The Silver Anklet Ch. 04

I struggled and cried out in frustration, but Uncle Ron's grip was too strong, and I gradually stopped trying to break free.

'Whoa...calm down! You'll just have to be patient.I want you gagging for it by tomorrow night Juicy. I want you to promise to behave yourself in the meantime.'

'Yes sir. I promise,' I replied, sobbing and sniffing quietly like a small child.

On the car journey northwards to Manchester, after I had pulled myself together and got myself under a degree of control, Uncle Ron told me that we were going there on behalf of his business and that I would be assisting him. I had often wondered what he did for a living as he seemed quite well off financially. My mother had told me that she understood he was in the 'entertainment' business, although she didn't know the specifics. Uncle Ron explained that he ran an agency that dealt with 'adult entertainment'. When I pressed him to explain exactly what that meant, he said that he organised hen and stag parties and that his agency had built up quite a notorious reputation. Apparently, his business was thriving as people tried to find ever more outrageous things to get up to at such gatherings.

'The women are the worst,' he went on to explain. 'You won't believe what happens at some of my hen night shows when there is a lot of horny women together and a lot of booze flying around.'

My mind was in a spin as I began to wonder what my role was going to be.

'Please sir, can you tell me what you would like me to do to help you?' I asked in the childish voice I knew turned him on.

'Well, Juicy. I'm going to leave the explanations to two of my colleagues, Jenny and Louise, who you will meet later,' he replied.

For the rest of the journey, my mind was speculating wildly about what Uncle Ron had in store for me and how I could possibly assist him in his business. I found myself thinking about all kinds of different, horny scenarios with the resultant dampness duly arriving between my legs, making me squirm uncomfortably in my seat.

When we arrived in Manchester, Uncle Ron booked us into a double room in a smart hotel. The female receptionist gave a knowing look to Uncle Ron as she passed him the keys and, in my embarrassment, I tried to avert making eye contact with her as we must have looked an unlikely couple -- a young attractive woman in her early twenties and a tall, bulky, elderly man old enough to be my grandfather.

After unpacking, I was expecting Uncle Ron to fling me on the bed so I was disappointed when he said we should go down to the hotel bar.

'Have I done something wrong sir?' I enquired.

'No, Juicy, not at all. I just want you to save yourself for later this evening; you'll need all the energy you can get,' he replied, smiling to himself. 'Let's go down and meet my associates.'

Jenny and Louise were sitting at a table in the bar area and Uncle Ron introduced us. They were both attractive women, probably about ten years older than me. Jenny was a tall, slim brunette with dark brooding eyes. Louise was slightly shorter, with long auburn hair, striking blue eyes and a pale complexion. I couldn't help noticing, however, that their main attributes were their gorgeous legs. Both wore skirts about six inches above the knee, and their shapely calves and thighs were accentuated by expensive-looking strappy sandals, with high heels. As they got up to greet me, I noticed some admiring glances in our direction from some of the men in the bar. They both hugged me as if I was a long lost friend, and I warmed to them immediately. While we were chatting amiably and making small talk, Uncle Ron excused himself, saying he had to go to sort out some last-minute arrangements for the evening event.

After he had left, Jenny and Louise told me that they had been working for Uncle Ron for a few years in various capacities in the adult entertainment shows he put on. They candidly admitted they were originally employed as strippers for the stag shows and still worked these occasionally, but they mostly now concentrated on the organisational and promotional side of Uncle Ron's business. They had obviously been briefed by Uncle Ron about my antics over the previous few days and pressed me to tell them all the details. Although I was clearly embarrassed, they were so friendly and welcoming that I eventually told them everything to their stunned silence. They were even more shocked when I told them I was happily married and worked as a primary school teacher.

'Wow, girl, you really don't look the type to get up to those sorts of things,' said Louise, with a look of amazement on her face. 'In fact, you look just like what you are -- a sweet little teacher girl.'

'Yeah -- no wonder old Ron has got a twinkle in his eye. I now know why he thinks you're perfect for tonight's show. You'll be great!' added Jenny, chuckling.

We ordered drinks (I kept to orange juice as instructed by Uncle Ron earlier) and Jenny and Louise explained what was planned for the evening. The event was, going to be a large, girls-only, affair organised by workers at a local call-centre. I breathed a sigh of relief as I had envisaged being asked to be a stag night stripper, and I didn't think I had the ability or indeed the courage to strip my clothes off in front of a crowd of wisecracking men. However, my relief was quickly removed when they explained my intended role. What they had in mind for me was equally outrageous and I listened to the two girls with increasing disbelief.

Apparently, there were three male strippers in the show and, after stripping down to a G-string or male pouch, they mingled in the audience and persuaded some of the ladies present to remove their final item of clothing, or to rub oil into their bodies, or to eat cream off their cocks. They went on to say that, occasionally, women in the audience would give them blow jobs and the strippers would either come on their faces, or the women would swallow. My role was to be the audience 'plant' for the final act; a stripper nicknamed the 'Black Bull'. He was a large, muscular, black man whose large size also extended to the size of his cock which, according to Louise, was like a 'shiny black snake'. He would initially be dressed as a stereotypical native African although they went on to explain that he was really from London and his name was Clive. He was in his forties, but had been a professional rugby player and still maintained an excellent physique.

I had to act like a genuine member of the audience, who had gone for a good night out with her girlfriends. However, when the Black Bull got to my table after cavorting amongst the crowd, I was to get carried away and not only suck his cock, but I would also let him fuck me in front of everyone! Jenny explained that this would be good for Uncle Ron's business as word would spread about the erotic and outrageous nature of his shows and people would be eager to book the services of his agency.

The thought of being fucked in front of a crowd of baying women and, added to that, being fucked by a black man (which would be a first for me, although black men often appeared in my deepest fantasies) made my knees go weak and my cunt moisten in anticipation, and I quickly agreed. My willingness to participate rather stunned my two new friends, who again mentioned that I did not look the type to agree to such a request.

'Those girls are going to go wild when they see the Black Bull screwing you, Lucy, with you looking so innocent,' exclaimed Jenny.

'I don't think the Bull will be too unhappy either!' said Louise, laughing. 'Better make sure your birth control is OK though as he's quite potent apparently. They say he has fathered at least eight kids. He needs the money he gets from stripping to pay the maintenance!' She saw the look on my face, and quickly added: 'He's clean though. Ron makes sure they have medical checks on a regular basis, so you've got no worries on that score.'

Jenny and Louise then told me that they would pick me up from the hotel at 7.30 that evening and would drive me to the venue of the show -- a function room attached to a pub on the outskirts of the town. In the meantime, I was to go to the hotel's beauty parlour where various treatments had been arranged for me and paid for by Uncle Ron's agency.

I spent the afternoon at the parlour having a facial, manicure and pedicure. My hair was washed and styled and my pubic and anal area was given a fresh waxing to remove any recently grown hair and my little landing strip trimmed neatly. My session at the parlour ended with a full body massage with soothing oils which was undertaken expertly by a middle-aged female therapist, dressed professionally in a white tunic, white tights and shoes. Her administrations made me feel wonderfully relaxed and, much to my surprise, I gradually became aroused sexually. While lying naked on my back, the therapist's soft hands moved gently across my chest and flicked very occasionally against my nipples causing them to become instantly erect. Her expert hands moved down and massaged my feet, manipulating each toe in turn, and then stroked my legs causing me to shiver involuntarily. Her hands travelled up my thighs and made circular movements across my belly, hips and upper thighs and occasionally, teasingly, flicked my pussy lips as if by accident, now glistening from my arousal. Almost in a trance-like state I began to respond and pushed my hips up off the couch to meet her touch, moving my legs apart inviting her to go further and give me the ultimate release. The therapist let out a quick, nervous giggle and gently but firmly applied pressure on my belly with her hands, pushed me back down onto the couch and held me there for few moments until my rapid breathing had slowed and I became still.

'Maybe another time, honey,' she whispered, giving me a big smile.

I realised I hadn't had an orgasm for several days, but even accounting for that I was dumbfounded by my behaviour and never thought of myself as having any lesbian leanings. However, what I had just experienced was absolutely delicious and I could only imagine how I would have felt had the therapist continued and responded to my urging. It was certainly something that would occupy my fantasies in future.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.....you know....,' I mumbled incoherently.

'Don't worry your pretty little head. It's quite natural', she replied and bent down and kissed me quickly on the lips. She turned away and pulled what appeared to be a small business card out of a pocket in her tunic, which she then pushed gently between my cunt lips so that it held in place. She then quietly left the room, indicating the shower in the corner before she left. I bent and picked up the card, which simply gave her name, Christine, and a mobile phone number, and I slipped it into my purse.

When I returned to my room, Uncle Ron had laid out the clothes I was to wear for that evening -- a short, coffee-coloured, silky dress, which I thought would really complement my golden hair; shiny, beige hold up stockings with brown lacy tops, and strappy, brown shoes with five inch heels. I was also to wear my chocolate brown lacy bra and pants set. I guess Uncle Ron felt that I should look as natural as possible, hence the underwear. I maintained the natural look by applying only minimal make-up. My fingernails and toenails had already been painted with golden, glittery nail varnish at the beauty parlour. I made sure that I wore no other jewellery but my little silver anklet.

Jenny and Louise picked me up promptly at 7.30 and told me the show would be starting at 8.30.

'Wow, you look stunning!' exclaimed Jenny, 'and your hair looks amazing,' she added, and Louise nodded in agreement. My long, flowing blonde hair had been expertly styled into loose waves that cascaded around my shoulders and down my back, and I was very pleased with the result.

When we arrived at the venue for the show, the place was filling up with groups of girls and women of all ages and most of them were dressed sexily. Jenny, Louise and I blended in quite well and we looked like any other group of friends out for a good time. I admitted to the girls that I was very nervous, but they reassured me that everything would be fine and that the 'Black Bull' would make sure I was OK (he had been fully briefed about my role).

The room was quite large, and consisted of a small, raised stage at one end and a long bar at the other. In between, the floor was scattered with several round tables of different sizes which were filling rapidly. The girls led me to one of the smaller tables and allowed me to have a few shots of tequila to steady my nerves. The alcohol had the required effect as I gradually relaxed and absorbed myself into the atmosphere of the evening.

The show started with a couple of male stand-up comedians who managed to warm up the audience with a series of blue jokes and smutty anecdotes which really seemed to get the all-female audience in a party mood. Then the Master of Ceremonies announced, to deafening applause, that the first of the night's strippers would be taking the stage. He pranced onto the stage dressed as a fire-fighter and the audience went wild, clapping and cheering loudly. Jenny, Louise and I really got into the swing of things and clapped and cheered along with the rest of the crowd as the stripper gyrated to hypnotic techno music. In no time at all, he had stripped down to just a bright red G-string which dangled between his thighs, indicating a sizeable piece of equipment. He jumped down from the stage and began to mingle with the audience, moving from table to table thrusting his groin into the faces of his willing admirers. One of the women, with the encouragement of her friends, grabbed hold of the sides of the stripper's G-string and pulled it down, revealing a large, semi-erect cock protruding from his hairless crotch.

As the music continued, the stripper moved on amongst the crowd and produced an aerosol can of whipping cream which he sprayed on his impressive cock. A number of the women took the hint and licked the cream greedily off his cock, which grew more erect as a result; Eventually, one of the women in the audience, a young Asian looking girl with long, jet-black hair, aged probably no more than twenty, rose from her seat, knelt down in front of the stripper and engulfed his cock in her mouth. This caused the audience to erupt, and many of them started to chant in unison:

'Make him come! Make him come!'

After a few minutes, during which the stripper stood almost motionless while the girl worked him with her mouth, making him fully erect, he suddenly pulled out of her and several spurts of semen shot over her face and hair, while he grunted with pleasure. The crowd were in raptures, and leapt to their feet clapping and cheering wildly as the stripper quickly left the room.

After the place had quietened down, the MC introduced the second stripper who, he said, was making his debut.

'Please welcome on stage, in his first ever performance, Pete the Plumber!'

The audience erupted again as a rather thin young man, aged about twenty, walked rather sheepishly on stage wearing the clothes of a builder, including overalls, heavy work boots and a wide belt carrying various tools. He quickly discarded these, revealing a long, thin, hairless penis which hung halfway down his thighs. He went amongst the audience with a look of trepidation on his face which he tried to conceal. An older woman, with bleach blonde hair, reached out and grabbed him as he walked past her. She pulled down the front of her dress exposing quite large, pendulous breasts. She took hold of his still flaccid cock and placed it between her tits and held it there while she rubbed it up and down, and bent down to occasionally push the tip of his cock in her mouth. He tried to release himself but her grip was strong and he quickly gave up and started panting heavily. His prick gradually stiffened, to the delight of the baying crowd, and he began to move his hips rhythmically. In a very short time he came in great spurts across the woman's neck and chin. This was met with catcalls and jeering from the audience, who felt short-changed because his performance had ended so quickly. Clearly embarrassed, the stripper rushed from the stage to a chorus of boos.

The MC then appeared again.

'Well, ladies, that was short and sweet. That was the quickest plumber I've ever seen!' This was met with a mixture of jeers and laughter from the audience. 'Anyway,' he went on, 'rather sooner than expected, we now come to the highlight of the evening. Please welcome, direct from the wilds of deepest Africa, the one and only Black Bull!'

Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I realised that I would soon be exposed to the full critical force of this hysterical bunch of women and I wondered how they would react to my behaviour if, indeed, I was able to summon enough courage to be taken in front of them. The audience again erupted, with many of the women leaping to their feet, as rhythmic, African drum music started playing loudly over the sound system.

The Black Bull (aka Clive) then leapt onto the small stage and my heart missed a beat as I looked him over. He was a huge man, well over six feet tall, with broad arms and chest, and thick, powerful looking thighs. He was completely bald and his skin was jet black and glistened in the spotlights which were trained on his giant frame as he cavorted on stage. He was wearing what looked like a short grass skirt and had straw bands around his ankles and above his elbows. He was carrying a tribal shield and spear and had white war-paint daubed on his face.

He was certainly a magnificent specimen of manhood and I stared at him lustfully. I twisted in my seat and parted my legs slightly as I felt a burst of moisture between my legs. I couldn't believe that in a few minutes the huge black man grinding his hips on the stage to the delight of the crowd of inebriated and randy women in front of him, would be fucking me.

The Black Bull gyrated on the stage in time with the incessant drum music and quickly threw away the shield and spear. He then leapt down into the audience, with the crowd on their feet clapping and cheering wildly. He wandered amongst the throng of screaming women, stopped at a table, and proceeded to push his groin in the face of a very pretty young blonde, telling her to remove his straw skirt. She seemed reluctant at first, but urged on loudly by her friends at the table she slowly pulled the skirt down to reveal a black leather pouch covering his genitals. The pouch dangled a good ten inches between his muscular thighs and was held in place by a thin string of leather.

'My god, surely he can't be that big,' I said to my two friends.

'You better believe it, girl,' replied Louise, laughing at my discomfort, 'I don't think you will be disappointed!'

'He's the main reason there's such a large crowd. Now you know why,' shouted Jenny, trying to make herself heard above the noise.

The Black Bull moved on to another table of women where his pouch was quickly ripped off him, exposing his huge cock and there was a collective gasp amongst the audience followed by deafening cheers and a few lewd comments. His magnificent member was poking out in front of him, not yet quite fully erect, with a large pair of balls hanging below. He was completely devoid of any pubic hair which made his cock seem even larger than it actually was. I was becoming increasingly nervous as he moved around the tables, but inching closer and closer to our table. He was wanked and sucked by a variety of women of all ages and colours and the atmosphere in the room was becoming rowdier by the minute.

When he eventually arrived at our table his cock was glistening with saliva but still not quite fully erect. He came up to me immediately, gave me a wink, and thrust himself in my face. I drew back and turned my head away coyly as I had been instructed to appear shy and reluctant initially. This was an attempt to make the situation look spontaneous and as real as possible to increase the shock factor. I could hear Jenny and Louise screaming next to me and urging me to take the Black Bull's saliva-covered cock in my mouth.