Invisible Girl - An Erotic Romance Pt. 04

Peter gazed at Chrissy for several moments, then back down at Jane. "Well...yeah," he drawled. "Looking at her in her undies like that kinda makes me wanna..."

He bent down and kissed the back of Jane's neck, simultaneously lifting up the back of her dress and slipping his hands underneath to reach up and cup her breasts. He pulled her tightly against him, and Jane could feel his erection pressing between her buttocks. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Now he was massaging her breasts, his breath hot in her ear. Ohhhh...

Then his hands were gone, and he was... Oh god, he's unzipping my dress, she thought, and tried to remember what underwear she had on. Did they even match?

They didn't, as she found out when her dress slid to the floor. Her bra was white, and her panties were light blue with thin green stripes. But this turned out not to matter when she felt her bra being unclasped and allowed to fall to the floor as well.

What was Peter doing?

Chrissy had finished and fallen silent.

"Wait here," whispered Peter, and headed across the room to where Chrissy was kneeling.

Fine, thought Jane. He strips me down to my panties then goes to play with Chrissy.

Again she wondered what he was up to.

She heard 'Father Brian' say, "Are you ready?"

And Chrissy replying, "I-I think so, Father."

She watched him help her to stand, and then lead her over towards the basement side of the room. As he did so he gestured to Jane with his free hand, indicating that she should come around the other way.

Wow, she thought to herself as she started walking, now he's got two girls in their underwear, all to himself. I sure hope he's happy.

As she came around the stairwell she saw Peter leading Chrissy towards the workbench. When they arrived, Peter held up his hand to tell her to wait where she was, so Jane stopped.

'Father Brian' then said to Chrissy, "Stand with your feet apart, please," and waited while Chrissy complied, saying, "Yes, Father," as she did so.

Jane thought, why, it's just like that first time in the bathroom. She wished she could send Chrissy home right now and take her place.

But meanwhile Peter had picked up a wooden sawhorse that stood near the workbench and was placing one end of it between Chrissy's legs.

What in the world... thought Jane.

The sawhorse had been there for several years but still looked fairly new, as Jane's father had never been all that much of a Mr. Fix-it. It was about six feet long, stood about two and a half feet high, and its crossbar was only about an inch wide.

Jane watched, fascinated, as Peter found an old, stained blanket under the workbench and placed it over the crossbar, then took two pieces of the rope Jane had supplied and began fastening Chrissy's ankles to the two sawhorse legs which stood between her own.

Ohhhh, thought Jane.

Chrissy was facing Jane, and though the mask covered most of her features, Jane could tell she was beginning to be afraid again—was probably dying to ask what was happening but didn't dare. Jane could see that she was beginning to breathe in gasps.

When Peter had finished tying her ankles he stood up and walked to the other end of the sawhorse. He picked up two more pieces of rope, then took Chrissy's gloved hands in his own, and slowly began drawing her forward and down.

Chrissy gasped, "Oh!", but otherwise remained silent as he drew her down until her chest was resting on the blanket, her breasts hanging down on either side of the crossbar. Peter quickly knelt and secured her wrists to the sawhorse's remaining legs.

Oh god, thought Jane, looking at Chrissy's terrified face...the shiny blue mask...the silly little hat...

Peter had finished. He stood up, and began walking towards Jane. Walked right past her, back out into the other side of the basement.

He returned quickly, carrying something in his hand. As he drew closer, Jane saw that it was one of the paddles from the Ping-Pong table.

Well, she thought, Chrissy's getting off pretty easy.

Jane considered herself something of a spanking connoisseur by now.

Peter took Jane by the hand and led her around the sawhorse to stand behind Chrissy. Jane saw that because the sawhorse was shorter than Chrissy's legs she had to keep them straight—unless she preferred having a one-inch piece of wood with two sharp edges pressing between her legs—which meant that her lovely, satiny behind was held invitingly in the air.

Jane stared at it-at the rosy flesh between the tops of Chrissy's stockings and her panties-and felt her nipples getting hard.

'Father Brian' spoke as if pronouncing a sentence, which he was. "Young lady, you are about to be punished for allowing—and encouraging—unwholesome thoughts about a man of God. I hope that if these thoughts come to you again, you will remember this day and act accordingly. Are you prepared?"

Her voice was a squeak. "Y...Ye-yes, F-f-father..."

"Very well," replied 'Father Brian'. "I want you to keep track of the number of strokes. And with each stroke you will beg God's forgiveness—is that clear?"

"Yes...I'm sorry. Oh god..."

Peter turned...and held out the paddle to Jane.

What?

Jane started to back away, shaking her head... And then stopped as she realized: this is what he'd had in mind all along! That's why he had stripped her down to her panties: he wanted to watch her punish Chrissy! Oh god, this was definitely not turning out the way she'd planned it. Still...

Peter had caught her by the arm and was pulling her back towards him. He pushed the paddle into her hand and turned her so she was again facing Chrissy's upraised behind.

He looked at Jane and then pointed between Chrissy's legs, indicating that Jane should look.

Jane leaned forward...and there, right where Chrissy's sex made a bulge in her panties was a small, but unmistakable wet spot.

Jane looked back at Peter, smiled, and gently pushed him out of the way.

He moved silently to her right and stood where he would have a good view of them both.

Jane's nipples were fully erect now and she was sure there was some moisture gathering in her own panties. She was already breathing hard and would have worried about being heard if Chrissy weren't breathing so much harder.

She moved to stand by Chrissy's hip, facing Peter across her.

Peter was staring at Jane with total concentration, his eyes bright, trying to breathe quietly through his mouth. She could see that the erection pressing against his zipper was now huge.

Oh god, she couldn't believe what was happening: that she was standing in the basement of her house, in her panties, and was about to spank a tied-up, half-undressed girl while her own boyfriend looked on.

She thought she might have an orgasm while just standing there.

But Chrissy was beginning to writhe on the sawhorse, saying, "Please, Father...oh please..."

It was incredibly sexy to watch, but Jane didn't want to make her wait any longer.

She raised the paddle, took one final glance at Peter, and struck.

The paddle made a loud whooshing sound as it cut through the air and hit Chrissy's behind with a loud smack that echoed through the basement.

Chrissy's head jerked up and her hat flew completely off as she uttered a loud, "Oh!" A few seconds later Jane heard her say, faintly, "...Ohhh...one. Forgive me..."

Jane looked over at Peter, who was staring at Chrissy as if hypnotized.

Jane wanted him looking at her. She quickly walked around to where he was standing and kissed him quickly but passionately, simultaneously reaching down to stroke his erection for a moment while she did so. Then she hurried back to her position, confident that she had his attention. She did.

She raised her arm and struck again.

Smack!

"Oh—ow! Two. I'm sorry..."

Chrissy was wriggling her behind as if trying to cool it off and Jane could see that the wet spot between her legs had gotten much larger already.

Oh god, she was so wet herself! She had never felt so aroused.

Peter was still looking at her, and his hand was now rubbing the front of his pants. Jane couldn't help herself: she slipped her left hand between her legs and began to stroke herself too as she raised her right arm again...

Smack! "Oh! Oh God! Three! Oh! Forgive me!"

Smack! "Uh! Ah!.... Oh please... Four! I'm so sorry!"

Smack!... Smack!... Smack!

Suddenly Peter came around and pulled Jane aside.

Jane felt as if she'd been snapped out of a trance. What was he doing?

Peter reached over and picked up a long piece of rope from the workbench. He folded it in two and stood holding the ends in his hand.

He stood behind Chrissy, and then 'Father Brian' said, "You're not convincing me, young lady."

Then he reached out with both hands and jerked her panties down as far as they would go.

Chrissy cried out, "No! Oh! Please...please don't!"

Her buttocks were uniformly red from being paddled and Jane could see the moisture glistening in the cleft between her legs.

'Father Brian' said only, "Keep counting!" and brought the rope whistling down on her naked cheeks.

The crack as it struck her was much sharper and nastier than the slap of the paddle.

Chrissy screamed, and Jane wondered how much of it was from pain and how much from sheer mortification.

Being spanked in your underwear was shameful enough, as she could well recall, but for someone like Chrissy being exposed like that must be completely humiliating. She wondered if Chrissy would remember the safety valve and whether she'd use it now. If she did, it would be up to Jane to stop things, since Peter didn't know about it.

Chrissy was practically howling now. "Ow! God, no! Stop!"

"Count!" said 'Father Brian', bringing the rope down again.

CRACK!

"OW! Oh God—eight! No—nine! Oh, stop! Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Jane thought that the rope was too thick and too soft to be all that painful—certainly not compared with a wooden baton or a metal ruler, for instance. Nevertheless she could now see faint welts beginning to rise on Chrissy's previously smooth, if reddened, bottom.

And even though she had never seen her own welts after being spanked, the sight of Chrissy's stirred her memories, and she was sure that Chrissy, consciously or not, was experiencing a great deal of pleasure with her pain.

She wasn't using her safety valve, at any rate.

CRACK!

"Oh! Owwww! Ten... Oh please..."

There was a pause, during which Chrissy gasped for breath several times.

And then Jane heard her say, so softly that she must have hardly been moving her lips:

"Faster..."

Startled, Jane looked at Peter to see if he'd heard.

He had, and quickly began to wield his rope with greater vigor.

Jane watched as the two of them quickly fell into a rhythm, with Chrissy raising her hips to meet each downstroke, giving up all pretense of keeping track and simply crying out wordlessly.

It was powerfully arousing to see her like that: panties down around her thighs, hips thrusting up and down, making it look as though she were having sex with the sawhorse. And suddenly Jane could no longer stand being a mere spectator.

She quickly moved behind Peter and, careful not to break his rhythm, put both arms around his waist and began to massage his cock through his shorts. Then, not content with this, she unfastened, unzipped and pulled down his shorts and then his underwear so she could actually wrap her hands around his cock. She began to pump it in rhythm with his strokes...

But it was too late. Chrissy had been moving faster and faster, and crying louder and louder, and now she suddenly arched her back, uttered one final, drawn-out cry—"AHHHHHHHhhhhh!"—and collapsed onto the sawhorse.

The sudden quiet was startling.

Now there was nothing but the sound of three people breathing heavily.

Jane quickly backed away, not wanting Chrissy to hear her. Not that there was much chance of that, Jane thought.

She walked quietly around to the front of the sawhorse, covering her mouth with her hand just in case.

Chrissy lay with her head turned to the side. Her hair was in disarray, and the sleep-mask was soaked with tears and sweat .The lower half of her face was smeared with make-up. Her hat still lay on the floor.

And although she was still breathing very hard, it seemed to Jane that she was smiling.

Peter had quickly pulled up and refastened his pants and was in the process of untying Chrissy's bonds. When he was done he stood up. He picked up the paddle and handed it to Jane, then bent down close to Chrissy's ear, and said softly, "Your punishment is complete, child. You did very well. I'll be on my way now. I'll send J...your friend down to you in a moment."

Chrissy stirred slightly, murmured, "Thank you, Father," and slipped back into her apparently blissful coma.

Peter started to head for the stairs, but Jane signaled him to wait while she quickly returned the Ping-Pong paddle and retrieved the rest of her clothes.

At the stairwell she picked up her sandals, then followed Peter up the stairs, trying to match her steps to his so that Chrissy, if by any chance she were paying attention, would hear only one person leaving the basement.

When they reached the kitchen and closed the door behind them, they both fell back against it, limbs slack, and said, "Whew!"

Then, slowly they turned their heads to look at each other. Jane watched him taking in her near-nakedness. She glanced down and saw that he still had an erection...and knew that it wasn't over yet.

Peter turned and stood in front of her, pushed the clothes and sandals she was carrying out of her hands so that they fell to the floor, and took her in his arms, pressing himself against her, smiling down at her and saying in a harsh whisper, "Only very bad little girls wet their panties."

Jane didn't bother to look down. She knew they were wet; wet nearly to the waistline, it felt like. Instead, defiantly holding his gaze, she pulled her panties down and let them fall to the floor.

She stepped out of them and, without breaking eye contact, crouched down to pick them up.

She held them out in front of his face with both hands, letting him see just how wet they were.

Then she said, her voice matching his, "You'd better spank me, then," and, wadding her panties into a ball, stuffed them into her mouth.

Peter's eyes went wide, but he didn't waste a second. He quickly bent and heaved her onto his shoulder, then turned and made for the stairs as fast as he could go.

Jane was glad he'd had the presence of mind to take her upstairs. It wouldn't do for Chrissy to wander up and find them playing in the kitchen, though Jane suspected it would be a while before Chrissy was sufficiently recovered to walk anywhere.

She was already regretting the gesture of putting her panties into her mouth, even though she'd known it would drive Peter crazy. The taste of her own juices was not pleasant and of course it was much more difficult to breathe.

Still, she had a good idea of what was coming and thought she might need help keeping quiet.

She was right.

When Peter, still carrying Jane, had climbed the stairs, he dashed into her room and pushed the door shut with his foot, but didn't bother to put her down. Instead, he quickly sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her legs sideways so that she fell face down over his lap.

Then, holding her in place with his left hand, he gave ten hard, open-palmed slaps to her naked behind with his right. He gave them quickly and without speaking, the silence broken only the slap of his hand striking her cheeks and Jane's well muffled screams.

Then he pushed her left leg off his lap and, reaching between her legs, stroked her there—delicately, sensuously—with his middle finger for about ten seconds.

Then he withdrew his hand...and gave her another vicious slap on the behind.

This was followed by another ten seconds of delicious pleasure...and another slap.

More stroking and another slap.

Jane, although finding it now extremely difficult to breathe, was very glad to have something in her mouth, as she wanted to shriek with both pain and uncontrollable lust.

Oh god, she was burning, from the outside in and from the inside out. She couldn't stand it!

She put a hand against his chest and pushed herself off his lap, falling to the floor in a heap.

She yanked the panties out of her mouth, scrambled to her feet, and said, hoarsely, "Oh god, Peter—fuck me!" before throwing herself past him onto the bed.

Peter said, "I didn't bring any condoms!" and Jane quickly got onto her hands and knees, grabbed a bottle of skin lotion from her bedside table and tossed it to him, saying, "Good!"

Then she put her face down on a pillow, raised her behind in the air and spread her knees apart as far as they would go.

With her face still buried in the pillow she heard him hurriedly shed his shorts and underwear. Heard the bottle of skin lotion make a farting sound as he squirted some into his hand. Heard the small squishy noises as he lubricated his cock.

Another farty sound...and then his finger, deliciously cool and slippery, anointing the area between her buttocks and then quickly tunneling up her passage, taking only long enough to coat it before withdrawing.

She felt the bed bouncing slightly as he knelt behind her and positioned himself.

His hands, warm—one of them slippery with lotion—on her hips.

Then, at last, the head of his cock, pushing urgently into her.

He must have been as uncontrollably aroused as she was because he buried his cock to its full length in her with his first thrust.

Jane pressed her face into her pillow and screamed...and came. And screamed again with the tidal force of her coming.

Peter only managed to withdraw and thrust into her a few more times before he too climaxed, with a long groan of pleasure and release. Then he quickly withdrew, and fell onto the bed beside her.

Jane let her knees slide out from under her and fell beside him.

She wanted nothing more than to put her arms around Peter and drift off into sweet oblivion. But she knew it wasn't to be.

She allowed herself a moment to snuggle up, however, and when she thought they were both somewhat recovered, she kissed him gently, knowing he must feel as sated and drowsy as she did. Then she shook his shoulder a little and said, "Peter, wake up. You have to go before Chrissy comes up."

Peter looked at her, slightly cross-eyed, and said, "Why? Can't I just hide up here until she leaves?"

"No," said Jane sitting up and tugging on his arm, "She has to hear you leave. She can't take off her mask until you're gone."

"Oh. " He swung his feet to the floor and started to rise.

"Jane?" he said, his back still to her.

"Yes?"

"One of these days...will you explain to me what just happened?"

He reached down for his shorts.

As the door closed on a confused but quizzically smiling Peter, sent on his way with kisses and promises of explanation in the near future, Jane hurried to the kitchen. She had hurriedly cleaned herself, snatched a fresh pair of panties from her bureau and put them on before coming downstairs with Peter, and now she hastened to don the clothes she had left by the cellar door.

When she was satisfied that she looked more or less as she had the last time Chrissy had seen her, she quietly opened the door and made her way downstairs.

She wondered whether she would find Chrissy still passed out on the sawhorse or, worse yet, curled up in a ball somewhere, sobbing from her traumatic experience. She opened the downstairs door as softly as she could, and was just about to call out Chrissy's name when she saw her standing by the couch.