The Renaissance Faire

It went on like this for some time with each new man. One could not say that Pamela got entirely used to it, but her level of stress, and embarrassment, did decrease with time. She was reminded of when she and Polly, her roommate at the sorority house, took off their clothes and walked around their bedroom stark naked, the curtains fully open. It was a terribly naughty thing to do, and Pamela did wonder if she did it in part because she was feeling so deprived, so unsatisfied, in not being able to have any sex, compelled perhaps to do unusual and potentially risky things to at least experience something sexual.

In any case, they both found it quite fun and titillating, realizing that some guys out on the sidewalk would be able to see their naked bodies but they couldn't see them. If they did see them then they couldn't pretend that it was an innocent, unintentional mistake. At first they just dashed by the window, their boobs wiggling. Then they became more daring and strolled by nonchalantly, trying so desperately to keep a straight face. Neither of them would stand directly facing the window, but eventually Pamela stood with her back to the window, her bottom just inches away, giggling all the time, letting the whole world see her naked little tush. Polly was laughing hysterically on the bed. They knew that if Miss Wormer discovered what they were doing she would be very, very upset, but there was probably little risk in that. At one point Pamela even bent over, allowing a better peek at her feminine cunnie mound poking out from in between her thighs. Polly was very shocked at that but Pamela didn't pose like that for long. In fact, after having done that they closed the curtain, feeling that perhaps they had gone too far. Still, they giggled about it for sometime, and Pamela thought about it quite a bit that night, in bed, in the dark, her fingers providing the relief that a man would do so much better.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending upon her state of mind during the public spanking, none of the guys tried to do what she had done later that night. They were being very respectful, which was a considerable relief, or at least so she felt the vast majority of the time. On the other hand, not surprisingly, she was now finding the experience to be even more titillating, more stimulating, than when her bloomers were up and her dress was pulled down, much like it had been when she and Polly had exposed themselves through the open window. Perhaps she might not even mind if a guy did touch her, at least briefly. She was feeling a bit of an itch, a tingle, which she tried to relieve by squeezing and rubbing her thighs together

The wriggling and squirming of her clenched thighs was quite pleasing to the men who happened to be spanking her, although none of them understood its true meaning. They attributed it to the spanking, much like her wiggling and dancing around, ineffectively trying to avoid a spank, or trying to relieve a sting, rather than a tingling cunnie itch.

Pamela knew, if she thought about it, that in this position her cunnie mound was very clearly evident, peeking out from between her thighs. But, she didn't really want to know that, nor appreciate its implication. It was most certainly a very, very tempting target for the men, but they naturally assumed that it was off limits. They didn't have to be told not to take advantage of the young lady's vulnerable position. That would obviously be going much too far. Twenty-five dollars for a bare bottom spanking and a peek at a young lady's cunnie was more than a good deal, it was an excellent deal. They had naturally expected her to be clothed and this was then a very lovely bonus, and one that most assuredly deserved a large, grateful tip, as well as respectful consideration.

They would smile up at her as they dropped the handsome tip into her bucket, which was really filling up with money. Pamela smiled proudly. Miss Wormer was going to be so, so pleased. She wiggled her bottom in delight as she saw her last customer give her another big tip. "Thank you, kind sir," she would say. "I did so much enjoy your spanking," which at times caused them to give her even more money. Not calling the manager over when Mr. Wilson pulled down her bloomers had turned out to be a very, very good decision.

Some of the guys did let their fingers linger during a spanking. Pamela at times wriggled her bottom in protest, telling the scamp not to be so impertinent and rude, but as time passed she grew less concerned about that as well. She was warming up to the task, in more ways than one. As her bottom took on a nice rosy glow, so did her cunnie begin to swell and moisten. The lingering fingers came to be enjoyed and appreciated. They were certainly more pleasant to her ripening derriere than another stinging slap. They in fact helped to sooth her, even comfort and reassure her.

"My thanks to thee, kind sir," Pamela would exclaim, "I be forever indebted to thy healing touch."

The crowd howled in laughter at that, knowing that something was going on other than a spanking, and their speculation was not far from the truth.

Pamela's face would redden as she realized that the crowd realized that the man was rubbing her bottom, perhaps even caressing and fondling it. But, the soothing touches did seem worth the occasional embarrassment.

The caressing though never lasted for too long, as the crowd would demand the resumption of her spanking.

Pamela would then resume her pleas and protestations, consistent with the character she was playing, but also now felt with a bit more sincerity. She was beginning to wish the men would linger longer with their caressing.

One man even began with the caressing, not even trying to spank her, apparently preferring to simply fondle and explore the young lady's bottom, and Pamela was unsure if she in fact minded. The previous man had pushed the limits of his spanking and her bum was stinging a bit. She definitely wanted some respite from that, at least for a bit. Plus, well, she was just getting so warm and wet. She so hoped that none of the men ever noticed that. However, their audience might notice that he wasn't spanking her.

"Yeow!" Pamela suddenly exclaimed, pretending to have received a sharp slap on her bottom. "Please kind sir, you spank me too severely!"

The man was at first taken aback, as he hadn't spanked her at all, let alone hard. He immediately removed his hand.

"Oh, please sir," Pamela begged, "you mustn't spank me so hard," as she arched her back and raised up her bottom, inviting him to return, to resume what he was doing.

He suddenly understood. She didn't want the crowd to know what he was doing, as they both might get into some trouble, and apparently she actually wanted something other than just a spanking.

When his hand returned to her bum his suspicion was confirmed, as Pamela circled her bottom around and around against his palm and fingers, letting him know very clearly what she wanted, as she protested, "No, no! Please, not that! You're being so mean, sir!"

The crowd applauded as the man gently and softly explored the curves of Pamela's warm and tender derriere, even slipping the tips of his fingers down into her inviting but perhaps dangerous butt crack.

"Oh, not that!" Pamela squealed. "Please be respectful of this fair maiden, sir!" Her eyes widened with shock at where he seemed to be heading. She wanted a soothing caress. She wasn't so sure she wanted anything more than that.

The man, however, felt that her objection was just more of the same acting, a false protestation. He drew his fingers all the way down the crack of her bottom, past her little puckered butt hole, down in between her thighs, and then firmly planting his fingers against Pamela's soft, and very moist, cunnie.

"Oh my gracious, sir!" Pamela called out loudly, the crowd roaring in approval. "You must please stop!" She jumped and squirmed on his palm, trying to free herself from it, but there was really no escape.

And, then she saw her, Miss Wormer, the Housemother! She had pushed her way up to the front row. "Miss Wormer!" Pamela exclaimed. The Housemother had apparently decided to check up on her.

The man's hand froze on Pamela's cunt, feeling how swollen and wet it was but he did not know who this woman was. It was apparent that the young lady knew her and was quite concerned about her presence, which made him even more concerned.

Miss Wormer, however, only smiled, having seen the substantial amount of money within the tip bucket. She called up to her girl, "Very, very good, Pamela. I must say you are doing an excellent job!"

The crowd had grown a bit silent, at least those within the first few rows, noticing the concern on the girl's face upon recognizing the older woman and obviously curious as to the nature of the relationship and the conversation. Once they heard the older woman's expression of support and encouragement though they cheered uproariously.

And, the man in the booth smiled as well, resuming his exploration and fondling of Pamela's little swollen wet cunt.

"Oh!" gasped Pamela at the feel of the man's fingers on her cunnie lips. "Um, uh, thank you, Miss Wormer" she responded, her voice quite breathless.

"Now, you carry on and let this man give you the kind of attention that you most obviously deserve!"

The crowd cheered. Whomever she was, she most definitely had the right spirit.

"But, Miss Wormer!" Pamela objected.

The man's fingers again froze.

Miss Wormer cut her off. "No buts about it, young lady." She then smiled, "Well, maybe your butt's about it."

The crowed laughed and cheered.

"Yes, ma'am," Pamela sighed, feeling so aroused, so excited, yet feeling as well so wrong and shameful.

Smack!

"Yikes!" Pamela squealed, as the man surprised her by giving her an actual spank with his other hand, still though squeezing and fondling her hot, wet cunnie.

Miss Wormer applauded her approval. Yes, Pamela was doing extremely well, much better than any of the other girls she had visited so far. "Well, I'll leave you to lovebirds alone. I can see that you don't need me." She giggled at her little joke, and the crowd laughed as well, not realizing how close to the truth it perhaps was.

The man could tell that the girl was enjoying it. Her arousal was very clearly evident. He continued to gently caress and fondle the young lady's swollen cunnie lips, at times giving her an occasional spank to keep her, and them, honest.

Smack!

"Oh please, sir," Pamela pleaded, her eyes clenched tightly shut, feeling now so confused as to what she really wanted. She could not deny that the presence of his fingers there did feel so, so good. Yet, it was also so terribly embarrassing, and probably shamefully wrong. Yet, if she wanted it, if she in fact needed it, and if it would be good for the sorority, what was truly wrong with it? It wasn't like he was trying to have sex with her and, perhaps most importantly of all, Miss Wormer clearly wanted her to continue. She would be quite upset if she called it off now.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Oh my goodness!" Pamela squealed loudly. "Sir, please desist!"

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" Pamela repeatedly yipped with each smack and each blissful yet shameful massaging by the gentleman's fingers. She danced and pranced her bottom now more vigorously than ever before, but not entirely sure what she was trying to escape from or even if she wanted to. In fact, all of her writhing and wriggling only further increased the rubbing and squeezing of her cunnie.

The sensations she was experiencing were now just so strange, stinging spanking coupled with lustfully arousing caresses. She felt so confused, yet so thrilled.

"Oh my goodness, oh my gracious!"

The crowd felt that she must be getting quite the spanking indeed and they cheered uproariously. The other pillory girls could see that much of the crowd was now facing Pamela and they were growing increasingly jealous. Pamela was showing a continued enthusiasm and energy that was difficult for them to maintain, particularly this late into the day.

The man briefly stopped his spanking to use his left hand to remove his erection from his boxers and slacks.

He knew he was taking a chance, perhaps crossing a line, but how could any self-respecting virile man keep his dick in his pants at a time like this? It was just too fucking hot and crazy. His dick burst from his pants like an angry stiff snake and he quickly pressed it against the girl's butt, lodging it at first within the crack of her ass, like a hot dog squeezed within two soft buns.

"On no! No, no, no!" Pamela squealed, trying to pull away from the stiff penis but having really no room to maneuver.

Smack! Smack!

"Keep your bottom still, young lady," the gentleman warned her.

The crowd yelled it's approval.

The man pulled back and repositioned his cock in between the girl's thighs.

"Oh my goodness!" Pamela exclaimed as another smack landed on her bum as she felt the man's erection approaching her cunnie.

Pamela tightly wrapped her thighs around the hot stiff shaft to prevent it from finding its way inside. It was like having to hold onto a dangerously poisonous snake, not being able to escape but at least being able to prevent it from striking a deadly blow.

The man was not at all upset with the compromise. Who would be under such a circumstance? He settled for the very provocative dry humping of the girl between her thighs. It was like she was riding his cock on horseback, or perhaps more accurately riding on a fence rail. And, it wasn't really dry, as her cunnie and thighs were wet with the aroused lust.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Her prancing and wriggling while she was being spanked also had the added effect of feeling like she was intentionally humping his cock, purposely grinding and rubbing her hot, soft, drippy cunt against his yearning stiff shaft.

Pamela was both mortified and inflamed. She actually had her thighs tightly squeezing, in fact embracing, a man's stiff naked cock, her cunnie lips pressing firmly against its hot manliness, feeling as well her clit rubbing and grinding against the stiff masculine shaft as she jumped and wriggled with the spanking. It was just so intensely appealing and shamefully appalling.

How did she let it get this far? But, if she stopped now that would probably only get her into trouble as well. The man would most certainly tell the manager that her bloomers were down when he arrived, that she clearly indicated an interest in being fondled and touched. And, if prior customers were interviewed they could also confirm his side of the story. Imagine the damage to her reputation! Imagine the damage to the reputation of Omega Theta Pi! She really had no choice now but to let it continue, all the way to its likely fruition.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

With his right hand now free the man could use both hands on the girl's bottom, alternating the left and the right. It was like he was riding a horse, in this case a frisky bucking filly, encouraging her on with reasonably gentle smacks on her rear.

Pamela now knew that she really, really wanted him to continue."Oh my, oh my," she whimpered in resignation and lust as she wriggled and squirmed on the man's hot burning stiff rod. It felt oh so wrong but oh so hot to feel her wet swollen lips slipping around the man's stiff, hard, erection, as if she was trying to engulf his dick with her cunnie lips.

Pamela gasped and panted with lust. "Please, sir, no, no, no," not wanting to articulate anything more, not finding it particularly easy to do so and not being terribly confident that she wouldn't say something wrong, perhaps give something away.

But, fortunately, and unfortunately, for Pamela, the man quickly found himself reaching his climax, temporarily desisting in his spanking.

Pamela felt a particularly urgent twitch of his cock within her clenched thighs and then suddenly wetness squirting out from his dick, a bit of it caught between her thighs but much of it surging past her and landing on the inside of her slip that was still hanging down in front of her. It was like she had her own cock between her legs, gushing and spurting out onto the inside of her dress. She couldn't see it, but she could feel its jerking and knew that it must be leaving a pretty big mess.

The man briefly gasped in exultation at the first gush but quickly regained his composure, just smiling with a blissful satisfaction as he felt his cock jerk and spit between the girl's thighs, still continuing to spank the girl but now with considerably less energy or force.

smack. smack. smack.

He was just going through the motions as his mind and body were entirely elsewhere, somewhere very wonderful and fulfilling.

When he was done he pulled back, and Pamela let him free.

She whimpered though in frustration. "Oh please, sir, you must finish your spanking," which meant really to help her have a happy ending as well.

But, he felt spent and exhausted. He did though give her a few grateful pats on the bottom after he put himself away and zipped up.

Pamela sighed with deep frustration, and desire.

She saw though that he did leave a very, very gracious tip, probably the biggest one of the day.

Pamela was breathing quite heavily, feeling such a strong desire, need, and hunger, and when the next man came in she greeted him with as obscene of a presentation as she could muster, arching her back as much as possible, sticking her ass up and out as far as possible, and spreading out her legs so that he could not possibly miss what was so swollen and yearning between her thighs. She very much looked like the sluttiest of whores in the window.

"Prithee sir," she loudly exclaimed, "Give this wench what she deserves! Give it to her so hard! She is such a wanton, lost wench that she warrants no pity, no mercy!"

It was getting toward the end of the Wench-in-the-Docks festivity and it was apparent to the crowd that Pamela was pulling out all stops.

All of which was very, very much to the delight of her next customer, Timothy Boon.

As soon as he entered the booth Tim's eyes widened with shock and surprise. There she was, or more accurately, there it was: Pamela Button's bare bottom, just poking right out at him. Could he ever imagine a more delightful and inviting sight? Not in his wildest dreams. Actually, that was entirely untrue. Even in his typical, usual dreams he imagined seeing Pamela's bare bottom, and quite a few times at that, but never in his wildest dreams could he imagine such dreams ever coming true. Yet, there it was and, even better, she was waving and wagging it at him! He was no expert when it came to reading the intentions of girls, but it was hard to mistake this gesture. He was frozen in place, dumfounded, with the exception of his cock, which was rapidly swelling within his briefs.

Timothy Boon was in Pamela's art history class. He had often considered asking her out, as he found her terribly pretty and beguiling. He knew though that she was a member of Omega Theta Pi, and that probably meant no sex. Unlike many of her sorority sisters she notably did not wear a purity ring, which did suggest some potential, but the Omega girls had quite the reputation for being chaste and modest, which made her current state all the more provocatively magnificent, and wonderfully pleasing.

He never did ask Pamela out. He just couldn't muster the courage. He doubted that she would be interested. Actually, he was quite sure of that. She was much prettier than he was good looking. He was not unattractive, but he was just average and ordinary. He was no prize catch for a girl, and certainly not for a girl as pretty as Pamela. He was sure she could do much better than him.