The White Hart

'Yes... Yes,' she cried achieving the orgasm within seconds that had been denied her all night.

We had our doubts whether we would see her again, but she arrived for the Sunday lunchtime opening about an hour late and looking very short of sleep. She shamefacedly admitted that she had not been able to stop masturbating to sleep for longer than an hour or so at a time, but grinned and said, as my hopes of a repeat performance dropped, that while she would keep to her part of the bargain and never wear panties again at work, she was pleased that her punishment was over, 'at least until the next time I do something wrong.'

Every cloud has its silver lining and I resolved to watch her closely.

As it turned out that was not completely necessary as two or three days later, Chris, one of the newish 'regulars' came up to the bar at about ten o'clock after a few drinks and asked if we would mind him bringing his girlfriend in for chastisement. They had been in the bar on the Saturday evening and Sonia his girl friend had not stopped misbehaving since. He had eventually smacked her bottom last night, to their most mutual satisfaction apparently, for throwing his dinner in the oven after an argument, but last night she had for no explicable reason wet the bed, and that was just something that he would have to deal with.

He told her he would punish her later and she was consequently standing naked at home waiting for his return to hear her punishment. John was delighted to offer his premises, without even asking for a charge to hire the room. We left it up to Chris to determine the punishment but agreed that 9.30 Friday he could have the use of the centre of the saloon bar. We would put up a small notice accordingly, as much as anything to deter people who might be upset by it. John had no need to advertise the punishment, as the story spread by word of mouth. There were more people drinking there than ever before, I guess just in case something did happen. Arlene and Sheila were firm favourites around the bar but seemed to take longer and longer to collect the empties nowadays.

Wednesday evening arrived and Chris and Sonia arrived with a small crowd of six or seven friends at about seven o'clock. There was no sign of anything amiss except that Sonia was a little quieter than usual. Chris was, if anything, making up for that, organising a whip round for drinks and generally making sure that nobody, particularly Sonia was going thirsty. Sonia was boxed in by the wall and on at least one occasion had tried to get up to leave the room. It turned out that she had not been told when or where her punishment was due to take place. Just before 9.30 a male friend seated next to her rose to go to the toilet and she jumped to her feet and followed. John and I had had our eyes on them for a while waiting for a clue as to what would happen next.

Ross rose to his feet and said, 'Just a minute Sonia' and his friend stood still blocking her exit. She went a little pale as he continued, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, please excuse me for taking up your time and interrupting your evening's drinking but I have a sorry tale to tell. Sonia here has been a very bad girl and she knows she is due a punishment. Tell them what you did Sonia.'

She went bright red and stammered. 'I only wet the bed a little. I had had too much cider and......' she tailed off.

'Let the punishment fit the crime,' said Ross. 'Six smacks of the brush, because we are after all in the White Hart and that is the approved means of punishment .....and no wetting yourself while you are given them my girl, or the punishment will be a lot worse.'

'Oh, can I go now then,' cried Sonia. 'I am already bursting.'

A cheer arose as the bar understood her predicament. She was wearing a long hip length white sweater and ski pants. We waited to see how the punishment was to be delivered. Ross walked to the middle of the room with a low bar stool from one of the tables and asked four people sitting at a sturdy pub table to move to one side for a few minutes.

He put the stool on the table and said, 'Right Sonia, the longer you delay the worse it will be if you need a pee. Take off your ski pants and knickers and bend over the table. I think the sweater will have to come off as well. It may drop in the way.'

Now we knew and the bar hushed. Ross's friend loomed large in the doorway to the toilets so Sonia inched toward the table. 'I need to go,' she hissed as Ross laughed and patted the stool and John handed him the ceremonial hairbrush.

She eased down her black ski pants and her sloppy jumper dropped over her hips covering her bottom and underwear completely. A little hiss and a boo arose from the crowd gathered around.

'Jumper next Sonia,' he laughed. 'This has to be really embarrassing. I do not want you forgetting this in a hurry. She grasped the hem and eased it up to her waist and over her tits. Violet matching underwear caused a little frisson of interest, almost as much from the assembled girls as the men. A lacy push up bra, and soft French knickers, so as not to show a panty line under the trousers, I guessed. Movements were getting slower despite a damp patch showing in the groin of the panties. Ross had noticed this and was quick to ask whether it was leakage or arousal. What a predicament to answer that question.

She looked down at the floor and whispered, 'I want to come.'

Ross laughed not to be side tracked.

'You have got a long way to go before that happens, knickers off and on to the table.'

She slipped down her knickers to a rising murmur from the crowd. She was almost completely shaven, with just a tuft decorating the top of a lusciously pouting slit. Ross held out a hand and helped her to kneel on the table and she slowly bent over the table, affording those of us at this end of the bar a magnificent view of those puffy outer lips poking between her cheeks, moist and shiny with desire. The depilation had revealed a beautiful little puckered rosebud of an arsehole which captured my attention until Ross began the slaps. They were not as hard as John had given to either Arlene or Sheila, but certainly enough to cause a pink glow to spread over her cheeks. His was a much slower more deliberate style. He paused between slaps and asked Sonia if she was sorry yet. The sixth finished and Sonia scrambled to her feet.

'Where are you going?' Ross asked smirking. 'John, piss me a couple of pint pots. Whoops, sorry I meant pass me a couple of pint pots.'

Sonia went pale as she realised the meaning of his words.

'I said the punishment must fit the crime and this is the real punishment. That was only the warm up.'

The spectators in the bar had slowly got closer and closer and Sonia realised that there was no way she could get through to the toilets anyway.'

She kneeled up on the table and then stood with Ross's helping hand on her arm. She squatted into a crouch and widened her knees for balance. Her outer lips parted to show deep pink neat little flaps as she slapped her hand over them, less I think worried about her modesty, a little late for that, but in an effort not to pee until she was told she could. She took the proffered beer mug and held it below her. With a cry of relief she started to pee, little spurts at first followed by a torrent, tailing to a trickle and eventually only drops appearing. She handed the glass to the nearest person, and grabbed Ross who was still supporting her arm by the hair.

'Lick me dry,' she said, with a gleam in her eye. That caught the imagination of the bar and Ross had no option but to lay her flat across the table and place his tongue against her minor hole. She held on to his hair to bury his head deep into her slit.

'Lick me hard.'

Ross at last got into the mood and licked her hard and fast, his tongue disappearing into her slit and bum-hole. Dry was obviously going to be an impossibility, the harder he licked and nibbled the wetter she became until eventually the inevitable orgasm racked her body to another round of applause. As she struggled to her feet, reaching for her clothes, Ross said, 'What about me. I need to come.'

'This is your punishment,' she said to the amusement of the bar.

'I'm all right Jack, poor Rossie will have to wait till we get home.'

Well that was over a week ago now, and we have a steady succession of minor punishments or humiliations almost daily. A couple came in one evening and were sitting quietly drinking and talking in one corner. As the girl came back from the toilet she was very obviously carrying her bra in her hand and bright pink. Half an hour later she walked the same route. Loud mutterings of 'She's back,' echoed around the bar as she sat down with her panties in her hand. John offered her a drink on the house for another walk from the Ladies but her boyfriend said that they would save that journey for another time. Two young ladies have been seen under the tables at their boy-friends feet helping themselves to bodily fluids and one girl lost a bet and had to wear a cheer-leaders outfit with no panties.

So the old White Hart is a changed pub, John has ordered his new Jag and is having fun at the moment interviewing bar maids. We have been promised a final vote in the bar next Friday when he brings in the three finalists for selection. Arlene is now every mans dream of the older woman, as she spends a least one day a week shopping and one day at a health farm and as for Sheila, well she was caught taking ten pounds from the till earlier this evening!