Pony Boy Ch. 06

Jed, on the other hand, seemed to want to look right down into the depths of my soul. How wrong had I been about him! How foolish, how stupid! Talk about jumping to conclusions; I had written him off as this thug, this thing from the gutter, but, now that I had got to know him, I could see how much more of a man he was than me. Take me, Jed, take me, take me home and save me.

I could feel Jed starting to come; I could feel myself starting to come. He was pounding into me, driving himself as deep as he could go and even so I wanted more, please, more, Jed, more, just a little, please Jed, oh, Jed, oh, Jed, oh Jed!

As Jed exploded in my arse so I too exploded, my come shooting out of me, all over my chest. For two, three, four last strokes he milked every last drop before we collapsed together in an exhausted heap.

"Here, mop yourself up," Jed said as he handed me a box of tissues. "I'll go and make the coffee."

Once I had got myself cleaned up I got out of bed, found my panties and put them on. I could hear noises coming from the kitchen so I went through to find Jed who was now wearing a dressing gown. The kettle had just boiled and, as I watched, he made two mugs of coffee. He picked them up and I followed him through into the lounge.

"What's with you and those fucking panties," he asked as he sat on the sofa.

"I... I just like wearing them."

"You do, don't you. Kinky little perve. What about the rest of the Belinda get up? Does that turn you on as well?"

"I'm not quite as big a fan of Belinda's as I used to be," I replied ruefully. "It was fun at first but...."

"But it lost something when you found out that you've ended up as the fuck toy of every gangster in East London."

"Something like that. We're going to have to do it all again tonight. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

"You'll take whatever Mr. Mason tells you to take and you'll keep on taking it for as long as you're earning him money. He was making a fortune out of you as a pony boy and now that he's got Belinda fucking Bombshell he'll make even more."

"I wish I'd never...."

"You wish you'd never what?" Jed snarled at me. "Get real Ben, you are what you are and no amount of self pity is going to change one bit of it. We all have our 'wish I'd never' moments, every single one of us and we've all had to learn to live with it. So shut up and stop snivelling."

I looked at him, shocked. But he had a point, I guess, and I really wasn't any worse off than any of the other pony boys. I drained my coffee and put the empty mug down on a table.

"I'd best be off. If I want any clean clothes I've got to spend the rest of the day in the laundrette. Everything I own reeks of petrol."

"Archie?"

I just nodded.

"I knew something had scared the shit out of you. Well, fuck off then."

"Thanks for the coffee and..."

"And nothing. We've had a fuck, OK, nothing more. Doesn't mean you're my boyfriend, or my girlfriend for that matter. We just had a fuck, that's all it was, nothing more. And don't you go telling anyone, anyone at all. There's nothing between us, nothing to tell, nothing to talk about. Get that? Do you?"

"Yes, Jed but why?"

"Because I fucking say so. Now fuck off, you're making the place look crowded."

Jed watched over me as I threw on the rest of my clothes and headed for the door.

"Thanks, Jed, thanks for the coffee. I'll see you tonight." But Jed just slammed the door behind me.

I spent the rest of the day monopolising the local laundrette but even then there was a distinct reek of petrol around my stuff. I also took the time to check that the Belinda Bombshell costume was immaculate and that I had enough makeup, lube and condoms to see me through the night. I thought about going in costume but, if I did so, then I would have to come home in costume as well and I wasn't sure what state I would be in. In the end I put together a holdall with all the bits and pieces in it.

When I got to the club I found that, unlike last time, there was only one dressing room, a long thin room with mirrors all the way down one side. What's more, we weren't the only act booked for that night. There was also a comedian and a crooner who did Rat Pack covers. When I arrived both were already there passing back and forth a hip flask.

"Ello sunshine, come on in. Have a nip of whiskey."

"Err... no thanks."

"Go on, it'll put hairs on your chest."

"This one don't need hairs on his chest, he's with the sex act and I'll give pound to a penny he's the drag half. That's right, isn't it?"

"That's right. Belinda Bombshell at your service, gentlemen." I reckoned it would be best to be out and open. After all, in a few minutes I would be putting on my make up and then all pretence would be gone.

"Well then, Belinda, I'm Harry Harper and this is Tony Anderson. We're the other two acts for tonight. Pull up a pew. There's room for everyone."

And, after that, I was just another one of the acts, another performer. There was plenty of room for us all and I was able to unpack my hold all, hang up my costume and lay out all my makeup ready to start.

"So, what's the running order?" Tony asked after a while.

"There's a meal first, then you do a turn. After that I go out and do a few jokes followed by young Belinda here getting her arse shagged and then you're out again to see the night out."

"What's the occasion?"

"Birthday party. Len told me it was a fiftieth. Some bloke called Ian Shoesmith. Local councillor with a seat on the planning committee. This is to butter him up, wine him, dine him, let him feel the hero for the night and make sure he votes the right way when the new casino is being planned. My guess is that Belinda here will end up being part of the package."

Tony and Harry had a good laugh over this and I just shook my head and turned back to my make up.

I was all but finished by the time Jed arrived and, shortly after that Len Phillips put his head around the door to check that all was OK. Apparently he had been advised by Mr Mason to check that my makeup was up to scratch so he waited while I put together the last few finishing touches and then had me walk back and forth. I did my best Belinda Bombshell, camping it up like crazy.

"Yeah, you'll do," Len agreed rather reluctantly. "Now, the guest of honour is a Mr Shoesmith. I don't give a flying fuck about the rest of the guests, he's the one you're out to impress, got me. Once the show is over you get out there and give him whatever he wants. Anything at all. All I want to hear is how agreeable you were, how you let him do all the things he wanted"

"Yes, Mr Phillips."

"I'll come and get you after the show. He'll want to meet you. Understood?"

"Completely."

"OK, folks, the meal is being served and Tony, we'll be ready for you in thirty minutes or so."

"Right you are, Len."

And then there was nothing to do but wait. Well, there was one thing to do and that was get myself lubed up. I didn't fancy doing that in front of Harry and Tony so I went and checked out the bogs. It was a tiny room off the end of the dressing room and it was going to be very cramped but, even so, I reckoned it would be easier if Jed did it for me. We waited until Tony was out on stage before we got up and went to the toilet door at the end of the dressing room.

"Don't you boys go getting all shy on my account," Harry said from behind his newspaper. "You ain't got nothing I ain't seen a million times before and there's no room in those bogs to swing a cat, let alone shove grease up youngster's arsehole."

We both just stopped and looked at him. He lowered his paper and looked back at us.

"What? Do you think I didn't know? Give me a break. You're not the first and you won't be the last. Come on, bend over and spread 'em. I promise I won't look."

Harry returned to his paper. I looked at Jed, shrugged and went back to where our stuff was laid out. I took my panties right off, bent over and rested my elbows on the dressing table.

Ever since he had arrived Jed had been quiet, off hand, and there was no indication whatsoever that, only that morning, we had been close. It looked like the walls were back up and the old Jed was back in town. Even so, as he pushed the lube deep inside me with his finger, I was glad it was him and I pushed back, taking it as deep as it would go.

And then it was back to waiting. I spent the time mulling over what I had got myself into. My 'walk on the wild side' had spun completely out of control. Mr Mason, who, at first had seemed to be my protector, was actually the reason I had to carry on. I didn't dare let Len Phillips down because that would get back to Mr Mason and... and I didn't dare speculate what would be next. I did know I was shit scared and there was no end in sight.

After a while Tony's set was finished and he returned to the dressing room. This meant that Harry went on and, even from where we sat, we could hear the roars of laughter. From what I could gather his humour wasn't very politically correct but then, nor were his audience.

He was winding up his act when Len came to fetch Jed and I and lead us to the edge of the stage. I had butterflies in my stomach. It's show time. Here we go again.

"...so I says, that's no walrus, that's my mother in law! Thank you, thank you. And now, gentlemen, we've got the sweetest young thing here to entertain you. Put your hands together for Belinda Bombshell!"

The music started and, as Harry came off stage, so Jed and I went on.

The crowd were, if anything, drunker and rowdier than last time but that was great. My way of coping was to get as far as I could into the Belinda Bombshell role. Half dancing, half miming, I pleaded with 'schoolmaster' Jed not to cane me, going as far as to kiss his prick through his trousers. This got roars of approval from the audience. Jed, of course, followed the script and, in no time, I was up-ended, with my panties around my knees and my bare arse facing the audience. Jed was no gentler with the cane than last time and I couldn't help but thrash about a bit. As with last time, the audience were cheering every stroke and, if they had had their way, it would have gone far beyond the twelve strokes Jed actually gave me.

And then we got to the fucking. Jed positioned me side on to the audience and this meant that I could turn my head and look at them. Once again I played Belinda to the max, mugging and gurning, making out that I was a horny little slut who was loving every minute of it. It was easy to see which guest was Mr Shoesmith. I looked him straight in the eye and gave him a big, blatent wink. Then, with Jed still pounding into my arse, I started sucking my thumb, fellating it as suggestively as possible.

And then, suddenly, we were running out of music. There was a burst of frantic activity from Jed and, just in time, he managed to pull out and shoot his load over me even as the last chords were dying away.

We held the pose for quite a while as the applause filled the room and then I stood up and, still with my panties around my knees, I followed Jed to the front of the stage where he bowed and I curtseyed. This caused my panties to fall down completely so I picked them up and tossed them into the room where there was a bit of a scrum to try and catch them. I hope the lucky recipient would still find a pair of soiled panties a worthy trophy when he sobered up the next morning.

Tony was coming back onto the stage to do the second half of his set so Jed and I hurried back to the dressing room. I barely had time to wipe myself down and find my spare skirt and panties before one of the waiters arrived telling me that Mr Phillips was asking for me. I tucked a bunch of condoms into the pockets in my skirt and followed him out, into the party.

"Here she is, here's our naughty little schoolgirl," Mr Phillips leered as I approached.

"Ooh, Mr Phillips, I do hope you enjoyed our little show. And you must be Mr Shoesmith. Did you like what you saw?" I shimmied up to him and, almost inevitably, felt his hand groping around my arse. He pulled me towards him.

"You're a randy little tart, aren't you. I saw you, up on the stage. You were loving it, loving every minute of it, weren't you. You just loved having that boy's cock up your arse. And what about that caning? Was that real? I bet it wasn't."

"Sir! You do me an injustice!"

"Well, show us your arse then. Let's have a look see."

I turned around and flicked up the back of my skirt. I felt his fingers tracing out the lines that the cane had left.

"Gor, he really did go for you, didn't he. Is that what turns you on? Do you like a bit hanky spanky?"

"I'd rather have a real man. Are you a real man? I bet you are." I turned back round and snuggled up to him, batting my false eyelashes. I ran my fingers up his thigh and saw the bulge in his trousers as he responded. "Ooh, you're a big strong man, aren't you? A girl like me could easily fall for a big strong man like you."

I was going miles over the top and I felt I sounded like a false parody but Mr Shoesmith was lapping it up. I guess he was too drunk to tell the difference between sincerity and my desperation to please.

"And what do you like, Mr Shoesmith," I whispered in his ear. "What turns you on? Do you like it naughty or nice, or maybe a little bit of both? Would you like me to suck your prick for you? I'd like that. I love sucking pricks. I love it, down on my knees with a big fat prick filling my mouth. Or maybe you'd like to fuck me. Is that what you'd like. I like fucking, I'd just love to have your prick inside me. Just thinking about it makes me so hot and horny. Would you like to fuck me, please, Mr Shoesmith?"

He pulled me onto his lap and his hand delved into my panties, grabbing my prick and balls and squeezing them quite tightly. He started tugging away and I guess he thought he was wanking me but he was too drunk to realise how ineffective he was being.

"You're a horny little slag, aren't you?"

"I'm horny for you, Sir. I'd do anything for you, anything you wanted."

"Anything at all?"

"Try me."

"Len, is there anywhere...."

"Of course."

Mr Phillips called over a waiter who led us off to a side room. No sooner had the door closed behind us than Mr Shoesmith threw me to the floor.

"You like it dirty, don't you," he said as he undid his fly and pulled out his prick.

"Yes...," I started but, as soon as I opened my mouth he started to piss.

"Go on, drink it down, all of it!"

I didn't know what to do but I was more scared of the retribution that Mr Mason might mete out to me than the medical risks of drinking a strangers urine so that's what I did. It seemed to go on forever and, of course, there was no way I could swallow as fast as he was pissing so my blouse, my skirt, all of me, was soon drenched.

"Not so cocky now, are you bitch," he snarled. "Down on the floor, reeking of piss. That's where you belong, that's all you're worth. You're nothing, dirt, filth, you disgust me."

He had moved on from pissing and was now wanking himself.

"Your sort disgust me. You've no morals, no decency, you come from the gutter and that's where you belong. Look at me, bitch! Look at me!"

I looked up and, as seemed my lot nowadays, I ended up with a face full of spunk.

For a moment he just stood there as the last few drops dribbled off him and onto my upturned face. Then, with a sigh, he put his prick away and did up his flies.

"You disgust me," he snarled as he turned and left the room.