Spanking At The Cider Orchard: The BBW Exhibitionists

By Jaye Steed

Firey BBW redhead Amanda and country gent Will are managers at the vast Cider Orchard Estate in the heart of rural England. When the Squire instructs them to investigate press reports of group sex activities on his land they uncover a secret culture of swingers who enjoy anonymous risky encounters in the open air. The daring exhibitionists are led by an elusive, suave playboy known only as The Saint. His preferences for larger ladies and his fondness for spanking their plump bottoms lead to a curious mix of business and pleasure.
This 14,000 word short story is for adults only and features explicit sex, oral and spanking themes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaye Steed
• Release date: Mar 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301378661

Jaye Steed

Jaye Steed lives in the heart of the English countryside and loves to write about BBW heroines and those who admire them.

Book preview

Spanking at The Cider Orchard - The BBW Exhibitionists

by

Jaye Steed

Smashwords Edition

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Published by Jaye Steed at Smashwords

Spanking at The Cider Orchard - The BBW Exhibitionists

Copyright 2013 by Jaye Steed

Amanda always felt a little uneasy when summoned to the Squire's study. As the Cider Orchard estate Business Manager it was her responsibility to oversee and promote the public and commercial side of the vast estate nestled in the heart of the English West Country. So the meeting could see the Squire agreeing to one of her recent ideas and rewarding her in return, or on the downside it could mean that something had gone wrong and he wanted to administer his usual punishment. The latter option was never such a bad thing. The Squire had a weakness for the plus sized firey redhead Business Manager, but she wasn't in the mood for an over the desk spanking today. She let out a little sigh of relief when Estate Manager Will arrived.

Morning Will. Do you know what this meeting is about?

Will shook his head. Haven't a clue, but he sounded irritable when he called. Poachers at it again I would guess.

The large ornate carved wooden door opened and the Squire beckoned them in like a Headmaster about to lecture the bike-shed smokers. He motioned them both to sit down, then moved over to the window, looking out across the surrounding estate meadows.

Twenty five full time staff. He turned and sat on the leather chair, reaching for his box of Cuban cigars. Twenty five! He clipped the end of his cigar with the Victorian ram's horn cutter that sat next to the onyx desk lighter. No Newton's Cradle or budget executive toys on this desk.

Sir? enquired Will, hoping that he would cut to the chase but knowing the Squire loved to keep his subordinates waiting.

Stable girls, office bods, brewers, farm hands, catering staff …and Managers! He lit the Cuban and blew out a mist of smoke that hung around the desk. "Twenty five staff supposedly look after this estate, yet it seems that's either not enough or some of you have your guard down. What do you say to that?"

Is it poachers again, Sir?

Poachers, Will? Poachers? No it's not poachers. If only it were that simple. You two know all about poachers. The Squire took another draw of his cigar, deliberately exhaling in Will and Amanda's direction. "Poachers maybe, but what do you know about dogging?"

Dogging? Will and Amanda said in unison.

Yes, dogging. I had some snotty nosed journalist from the local rag call me this morning. Did I know that the old shooting house car park was fast becoming the area's prime dogging location according to some internet contact site? My God, that newspaper pays their reporters to trawl porn sites all day, that's a fine occupation for an English Literature graduate. Well that's what I said to her before slamming the phone down. Look, I want you to track down these doggers or whatever they call themselves, monitor them and report back. This estate is going places and I want to make damn sure that I know everything that goes on. Take the camcorder, take the night vision goggles, take a bloody shotgun and scare the shit out of them if you think it necessary. Do whatever you think best, but do something! Any questions?

No Sir, they answered in tandem.

Off you go then, he barked as they left his office and headed down the main staircase.

"What on earth is dogging?", Amanda asked.

Will grinned. The Internet is your friend, remember?

Amanda closed the door of her small office at the back of the Manor House, locked the door and fired up the web browser on her computer. Within minutes she had clicked through the array of irrelevant porn pop-ups and found the true dogging enthusiast forum, a low-key site, which hid its lively content from the main page. Soon she had registered under a pseudonym and began moving between the discussions.

Dogging it seemed was a variation of group sex between anonymous strangers outdoors and the trend was growing. Hardly a town or village was without its own secret dogging location from derelict multi-storey car parks in city centres to secluded lay-byes and fields in the country. The activity spanned a wide range of ages and social classes with the odd celebrity outed as a closet