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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                    BOTTOMS IN BONDAGE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                       Chapter Eleven

         ÒGirls, we must begin to address the problem of your anal virginity,Ó 
Alexis announced next, standing and licking JeffÕs pre-cum from her lips.  
She surveyed us, her eyes dancing with untold mischiefs.  I glanced at 
Linda.  For once I shared a moment with her, our eyes expressing anxiety 
and concern.  I had not really thought of my anal virginity as a Òproblem.Ó  
I had expected that a boyfriend would want to take me that way someday, 
and at SandraÕs party IÕd been introduced, via the dance card round my 
wrist, as having a virgin bottom.  But now, faced with the blunt fact of 
AlexisÕ announcement, I felt misgivings.  After all, it WAS my bottom, 
wasnÕt it?  Perhaps that was the true problem.  It had been my bottom, but 
now it belonged to a strange, unknown master; and his devious assistant, 
Alexis.  She turned, her long red hair swaying behind her, the cheeks of her 
bottom rolling suavely, and walked across the room on her fine, bare legs, 
her pussy just peeping out between them.  Leaning forward slightly, she 
opened a secret compartment in the wall.  I had not seen it; the wallpaper 
covered its door as thoroughly as the wall it was set in, there was no 
handle, just a little finger-tab, a depression in the wood behind which one 
might slip the tip of a finger.  
         Alexis removed several items, closed the door.  She turned, looked at 
me first.  In her hands she held, like some waitress holding glasses, four 
butt plugs.  And neatly pressed between her two hands, quite full, was a 
clear bottle of baby oil.  Squirt cap, pint top.  To match the color of my 
bottomhole, perhaps, or my pussy or my nipples.  With confident steps 
Alexis approached me, swaying slightly on her feet as the carriage bumped 
over a patch of rough ground that sent our titties bouncing.  She bent, put 
her things down on the bench beside me, between my naked body and JeffÕs.  
His face had taken on a grimace.  His cock, stunningly hard, waggled up and 
down and side to side in response to the carriageÕs movements.  
         ÒRelax, Jeffrey,Ó Alexis said, not looking at him, as his hands groped 
her big, swinging breasts.  ÒPlease keep your hands to yourself, but not ON 
yourself.Ó
         ÒGod, PLEASE!Ó Jeff replied.  His countenance looked gruesome.  A 
desperate man in the throes of untold arousal.  He had drank more than the 
rest of us, boldly, boastingly.  And heÕd been rewarded for it (albeit 
modestly, given our circumstances) by AlexisÕ tongue).  
         ÒControl, young man,Ó Alexis admonished him.  ÒYou are quite young 
and gorgeous, but that counts for little here.  For too long youÕve been able 
to sweep girls off their feet just by looking at them, and fuck them at 
once.  I am going to teach you to discipline your passion.  When you leave 
my care you will be a REAL man, who knows his body, his cock and his 
balls, how to hold back and when to release.  You will be able to properly 
serve a woman, instead of just porking young girls.  Look at the lovely 
pussies of these young girls.  Out in the real world theyÕd let you fuck 
them in a minute, wouldnÕt they?  Look at them now, all spread for you, 
and desperate.  Yet I will not allow you to have any right now.  No sex for 
Jeffrey.  Later you will be asked to perform, though, and then I expect you 
to do very well, coming neither too soon nor too late, but timed perfectly 
for mine or some other femalesÕ pleasure.Ó  She had pity on him then, 
touched his cock lightly, between her fingers, and patted it on its head 
with her other hand, like a puppy that was being good.  ÒHold in your 
sperm.  With five pussies on hand youÕll need to pump and pump when the 
time comes.  But we are not at our destination yet.Ó
         Alexis reached down behind me, slipped a finger into the length of 
my bottomÕs groove.  ÒRise, Lisa,Ó she ordered.  Awkwardly, like a nervous 
filly, I stood as best I could in the rolling carriage.  I looked like some 
newborn filly, my legs recklessly wide, held by the spreader bar.  Above 
me my wrists still remained shackled.  My bosoms, full and round, 
responded eagerly to every jolt of the coach.  Squeamishly I watched as 
Alexis took the baby oil bottle from the bench.  She lifted it to my ass, so 
wobbly, so conveniently presented, and deftly poked the squirt tip into my 
hole.
         ÒUrch!Ó I gritted, feeling the knob enter my tightness.  Then a long 
tongue-like spurt shot up my insides, coating them, followed by three 
more.  I was being spermed, by Johnson and JohnsonÕs.  Industrial sperm it 
was, and I would have sleek oiled babies pop from my bottom before the 
night was through, all brown colored with little nuts speckling them.  
         But now, watching Alexis fretfully, my neck straining back, I 
watched her take the bottle from me and pick up a cock-plug.  It was 
wicked looking, short and stubby, with a flange at its base to keep the 
whole thing from being forced within me.  Alexis squirted it all over with 
baby oil, trying to keep the oil from running onto her fingertips, where she 
held it at its base.  She succeeded, largely, but my butt would not be so 
lucky.  Alexis reached behind me, pried apart my asscheeks with amazingly 
strong fingers.  Opened by her, I gasped.
         ÒYou are strong-fingered, maÕam,Ó I breathed.  My voice was muffled 
by my gag but she nodded understandingly.  She had done this before, to 
other girls, ungagged.  She knew what I would say, how I would react, long 
before I did.  She was practised, experienced.  Girls had been opened by her 
before, commenting on their own denouement, helpless to disobey, afraid 
to complain.  The air came cool to my opened anus.  My virgin anus, held 
open by Alexis.
         ÒI have milked many men with my fingers,Ó Alexis smiled.  Her voice 
was soft.  Suddenly she thrust the broad plug up me with merciless vigor.  
I squawked, screeched, a violated songbird.  An egg was not being taken 
from my nest but put within, forcefully.  A foreign egg, going where it did 
not belong.  Up it went, I shook all over, my golden hair sweeping about my 
face.  ÒIt is but a training plug, dear, you need not put on such a show,Ó 
Alexis admonished.  ÒYou will wear it to broaden you there, to make you 
more readily accessible to the male penis.  This is just a beginnerÕs plug.  
Later you will be given larger ones, in succession, until your ring is able 
to effortlessly receive whatever a man wishes to give you.  Do you feel 
stretched?Ó  She caressed my cheek.  I nodded, a scared child having just 
swallowed something mommie told me not to.  Up my butt instead of down 
my throat.  There had been no unhappy yummie face to warn me, just a 
plain butt plug, fetchingly shaped like a penis.  ÒIt is just a ring of 
muscle, inside you can accommodate most anything.  But the ring, it 
resists.  We must stretch it out so you will not be so difficult to fuck.  
MasterÕs orders, darling.  Enjoy them.Ó
         She plopped me back down on the seat.  I felt a discomforting jolt as 
the plug was forced even deeper by the weight of my ass.  The carriage 
bounced, the plug reminded me of its presence.  
         In sitting I felt an even more worrisome fullness, if it could 
possibly be thought of as such.  It was a fullness of my bladder.  The wine 
and ladled water was coming back to haunt me now.  Oh, God!  I had to pee!  
And just glancing at Alexis I knew she knew too, and wasnÕt going to let 
me.  How easy it would be to just piss out between my spread legs, a 
spring spouting from within my honeyed dell.  But it would ruin the floor 
of the carriage, so old, so grand.  With squirming hips I looked up at 
Alexis, mouthed words of desperation over my gag.  
         ÒHold yourself in, dear,Ó she replied with a smile.  ÒYou and Jeffrey 
both must learn control, I see.Ó  She turned, left me bereft with my ass 
plugged and my bladder full, my pussy aflame.  She did Sandra next, 
inserting the plug as Sandra tried to take it gracefully, jerking a little.  
She got a bigger one than the rest of us, I noticed.  Poor girl.  She was not 
that much older than us but they picked on her anyway, since sheÕd been 
our mistress.  Rose was next, mewling and difficult, but not purposely so.  
Linda was her naughty self, wriggling like a fish to avoid her inevitable 
denouement, finally crying aloud as Alexis rammed the thing home. 
         The carriage rolled on.  The four of us felt every awful bounce of it 
now, our bladders registering their fullness within us.  We wriggled 
shamelessly now, four women reduced to schoolchildren, thinking of 
nothing save our pussies, wanting to pee and rub ourselves.  There would 
be naptime.  We would piss in our beds and frig ourselves with crazy 
abandon.  Teacher would spank us afterwards, finding our wet spots.
         Alexis sat down in ArthurÕs lap.  She had to pee too, I saw, for she 
placed her hand tastefully between her legs and held herself.  Then, 
inspired, she turned her head to Arthur and they began kissing.  She did not 
frig herself, though, and he but caressed her figure with his fingertips.  
Their mouths, though, not ruled by any dictates from Master, kissed 
wantonly, luridly, their tongues plunging deep and twisting together, 
exploring, raping.  Jeff grabbed me by my hair and turned my face to his.  
He tore off my gag.  He kissed me, passionately, before a word could 
escape my lips.  My mouth opened to his and we let our saliva mix.  I felt 
his tongue probing me deeply and wished it was his cock.  My hands were 
shackled, though, I could not reach it.  
         Scotty liberated RoseÕs mouth.  He kissed her, she did not complain, 
did not even say anything in the few seconds his fumblings left her 
ungagged and unkissed.  Linda, watching, mewled her disapproval.  Sandra 
said nothing, looked down and watched her titties jiggle as the carriage 
continued on.
         A stop.  At first it felt strange, not moving.  Quickly the door opened 
and a man strode in.  He wore eighteenth-century garb.  A light mask 
crossed over his eyes, hiding his identity.  Within the eyeholes of the mask 
I saw steely eyes.
         ÒMaster!Ó Alexis cried.  She had still been kissing Arthur when he 
entered.  He gave her face a solid slap, though not one that could hurt a 
woman, but one hard enough to wake her up.  Alexis put a hand to her 
injured cheek, regarded him.  ÒSir, they must pee quite badly.  Let us take 
them in at once,Ó she said.  He slapped her again, harder.  She clutched at 
her pussy as if the bold sting of the slap would make her pee.
         ÒYour own cunt is all that needs to pee, IÕll bet,Ó Master growled.  He 
turned to me then, I gazed up at him with imploring eyes, trying to hold 
back my wrigglings.  His hands reached out to my breasts.  He was gloved, 
wearing fine leather.  Roughly he grabbed my bosoms as if they were but 
market fruit, on discount, held and squeezed them.  I squeaked out a 
protest, said nothing.  I was ungagged but too afraid to speak, gagged by 
the fearfulness of my surroundings.  Master opened my mouth.  He felt my 
gums, looked at my teeth, nodded.  I felt relieved that IÕd seen a dentist 
recently.  My teeth sparkled whitely for him.  Gently he closed my mouth, 
strode to Sandra.  He undid her gag, quickly but with a certain tenderness, 
as if he feared pulling out strands of her gorgeous hair if he worked to 
quickly.  Then he examined her teeth, and next her bosoms, his gloved 
hands cold and unfeeling against her soft, pliant flesh.  Again he nodded.  
         Rose was next.  He said nothing of her youth, as if raping a child 
were merely one more treat for his wicked bed.  Women, children, it made 
no difference to him, so long as they could experience pleasure.  Linda was 
last, jerking from him however she could, yet he treated her not harshly, 
seemed to relish her disobedience.  He looked at Scotty then, nodded, 
lifted Alexis to her feet and looked at Arthur, nodded again.  Then he 
turned, walked over to Jeffrey.  Without greeting the man, he reached out 
and grabbed his penis.  Jeff was too aroused to complain, though he did 
emit a surprised yelp.  
         ÒYou will be my prize stallion,Ó Master said to Jeff.  ÒI expect this 
organ of yours to deliver top performance.  There is much fucking ahead; 
each of these girls has three openings and there are only four cocks among 
us.  A dozen openings and only four cocks.  Are you up to it?Ó
         ÒWhat-what about the others?Ó Jeffrey croaked.
         ÒThey are older men, they come as they are able,Ó Master replied.  
ÒYou are young.  You will have to stand in for them, though I myself can 
hold my own, I assure you.Ó
         ÒI guess I could do it,Ó Jeffrey said.  ÒCould we start immediately?Ó
         ÒImmediately?Ó Master laughed.  ÒOf course not.  IÕm famished, 
dinner is waiting, a sumptuous feast.  YouÕll be allowed to pee, though, 
come!Ó  Rudely he pulled Jeffrey up by his cock.  Fortunately the boy had a 
strong one, at full erection, and the yank affected him not, though it got 
him right up.  I glanced at his balls, but they were too tight to swing or 
bob about as he walked, Master leading him by his prick.  Arthur rose, 
Scotty next.  Alexis moved to each of us and bade us behave, then loosed 
our wrists.
         We stepped from the coach a minute later, all naked and cold in the 
late-evening air.  Our bodies had warmed the coach, outside it was 
decidedly chilly now.  Perhaps a cool front had moved in while we rode, 
nature hoping to ease the fire in our wombs.  It only made us want to piss 
even more.  I rubbed my wrists.  They hurt after their long confinement.  I 
moved my arms to restore circulation to them.  
         Their butts naked, flexing manfully in the stillness of the night, the 
men stood with their backs to us, a little distance away.  I heard pissing 
sounds and saw that all four of them were peeing into a fishpond, shooting 
at darting goldfish.  I approached.  MasterÕs pants were at his ankles, his 
underwear too.  I guessed he would not restore them to his hips when he 
was through.  The tails of his coat kept his buttocks somewhat concealed, 
I grabbed them, lifted them.  Without even debating it, I let fly a stinging 
slap on his behind.
         ÒWhoa!Ó Master cried.  Urgent in my need to pee but feeling some 
kind of fiery fury, I delivered two more slaps to his hams.  Linda made to 
do the same, but Alexis restrained her.  Rose stood, shivering, reached out 
and touched a finger to a dimple in JeffÕs bottom.
         ÒAh, God, itÕs wonderful,Ó Jeff exulted, pissing hard into the pond.  It 
was shallow, the fish could flee but they could not escape.  Linda 
struggled with Alexis.  She delivered a warning slap to her bottom.  Sandra 
observed all, said nothing.  Her hands pressed tightly to her cunt to hold in 
her pee.
         The men finished, turned to us.  Like frightened lambs we stood, 
wanting to squat down but knowing we would look ungainly and unladylike, 
would piss in grass and splatter ourselves.  How I wished to be a man!  
Carefree, peeing in the air, directing his pee wherever he wished.  
         ÒCome, girls,Ó Master said, understanding in his voice.  Physically 
they took us and pushed us ahead of them.  In our heels we walked, picking 
our way across the lawn.  A large house loomed before us.  I prayed that I 
would not step into any holes with my spiked heels.  Soon we reached the 
broad stone steps of the house, safe at last, though only relatively so. We 
mounted them.  We could feel the menÕs eyes on our bottoms, evaluating 
us, admiring our desperateness.  Despite our urgent need we endeavored to 
walk daintily, all of us, even Linda.  None of us wanted to be found less 
ladylike than the next.  There was a sensuousness to our plight, I 
admitted, glancing back once to see the four erect cocks mounting the 
steps behind us.
         We reached the landing.  It was smooth, marbled, though I think the 
stone was carved from a lesser rock.  
         ÒRing the bell,Ó Master intoned behind us.  His words upon our 
shivering backs.
         ÒDo it quickly!Ó Linda urged.  Rose was closest, struck the buzzer 
with her finger.  A moment later and the heavy wooden door that barred 
our entry swung back.  A woman greeted us, old and beyond the years of 
pleasure.  She was clothed, a maidÕs uniform, an old maid.  Unblushingly 
she ushered us in, four girls still very much in their prime, and quite 
naked.  The men followed, nodded to her as their cocks bobbed a greeting.  
She seemed unmoved.  We had interrupted her knitting.  Baby shoes, 
perhaps, for a favored relative.  Fertility at a distance.
         Their hands pushing at our bottoms, the men urged us forward.  I 
wanted to step back, let them fondle me more, but my belly pushed me on.  
I could not hold myself for much more than I minute, I guessed, before my 
pee would come gushing out.  I looked down, saw expensive carpeting, 
wished I were still outside on the stone steps.
         We were pushed into a room.  The carpeting remained, though in the 
center of it I saw a stone clearing, dipping slightly at the center, with a 
drain there.  A kind of ladder rose up there, as if built for children to 
climb on.  There seemed to be stations built up its height, with handholds 
and footholds where one might crouch in mid-air.  Five stations, I counted, 
one right on top of the next.
         ÒMount the ladder,Ó Master called from behind us.  I could not hold 
myself in much longer, I obeyed unhesitatingly.  Like some monkey I 
climbed, Rose following, Linda next with Sandra pushing her up by her 
bottom.  Alexis came last, climbing just a little.
         Beyond the width of the ladder I saw two footholds.  ÒAssume the 
position, dear,Ó I heard Sandra say below me.  I looked down.  I saw Sandra 
put RoseÕs feet into the footholds that lay beyond the side rails of the 
ladder.  In obeying, Rose presented her bottom most lewdly, assuming a 
kind of broad-bottomed squat in mid-air.  
         I felt far too desperate to disobey.  I opened my legs, perched way up 
there on the ladder, let my bottom hang down obscenely.  I felt thankful 
that the butt plug blocked the menÕs view of my bottomhole.
         ÒPiss!Ó I heard then, from somewhere below.  Without hesitation I 
released my golden rain.  Rose squeaked as I showered my pee on her 
lovely head.  Below I heard screams, but each girl was as relieved to 
empty herself as she was mortified to be peed upon.  I gazed at the walls.  
We had been assured of total privacy for whatever perversions we might 
undergo, yet I thought I saw eyes beyond the walls, as if a host of people 
were watching.  They were mirrored walls, stretching to the ceiling, yet 
did I make out people beyond, shadowy figures, drinking cocktails and 
laughing?
         I nearly lost my grip, wondering at the sight.  Below the men seemed 
to watch us intently, as if praying that none of us fell.  Dashing our lovely 
bodies to the ground was apparently not in their playbook.  Not yet, 
anyway.  
         When we were finished, the men beckoned us down.  I did not want to 
go.  Yet I went down with the others, and awkwardly we stood before 
them, all but me dripping with pee.
         ÒYou mustÕve had to go really bad!Ó I heard Linda comment to Rose.
         ÒWasnÕt me,Ó Rose said, and pointed to me!  
         Still wearing our butt plugs, our heels reminding us of our ladyhood, 
we were ushered by the men into an adjoining room.  It was small, made of 
stone.  There were buckets, filled with water.  The men had us stand in the 
center of the room.  They picked up the buckets and surrounded us.  We 
huddled amongst ourselves, smelling each othersÕ urine upon our nude 
bodies.  
         SPLOOSH!  Suddenly we were hit with water.  Master had tossed his 
bucketful of water on us.  Three more followed at once, thrown by the 
other men.  We were hit from all sides.  We lurched under the blasting 
bucketloads.  There were more buckets, still filled, waiting to be emptied.  
Each man grabbed yet another bucket and threw its contents at us.  We 
reached for each other, held on for dear life.  None of us wanted to be 
knocked to the floor.  It would be so unladylike, sprawling across the 
floor, and it was made of stone. 
         Soon the pre-filled buckets were empty.  The men turned on a faucet, 
set low in the wall, and began re-filling the buckets.  They were boys 
playing water balloon, and for once the target girls were their helpless 
captives.  We screamed, the men ignored us.  Bucketful after bucketful 
dashed us in our faces, hit our breasts,  cascaded across our bottoms.  The 
water was icy cold, uncompromising.  Our makeup was utterly stripped 
from us, our hair was soaked.  
         As if to grant us some small favor for our sufferings, Master told us 
that our butt plugs could be removed.  But we would have to do it 
ourselves.  I felt a wave of relief and panic wash over me.  
         ÒIÕm not going to pull anything out of my bottom!Ó Linda cried out.  
         ÒLisa,Ó Alexis said, bending forward as Sandra helpfully unplugged 
her.  I found Alexis was pointing me to Linda.  I walked over to the girl, 
touched her shoulder.
         ÒBend forward a little,Ó I said.  I ran my hand down her spine.  She 
shivered, complied.  I pulled apart the cheeks of her bottom and got hold of 
the flanged end of her plug.  Linda drew in her breath, held it.  I pulled.  I 
tugged harder.  I did not want to break a nail, yanking on this stupid thing!  
I pulled again and finally it came out, all brown and greasy looking.  
Quickly I tossed it to the ground.  It rolled, stopped.  
         ÒNow you do me,Ó I told Linda.
         ÒNo way!Ó Linda cried.  I slapped her across her face.  I wanted my 
plug out, before the men changed their minds!  I turned, offered her my 
plugged-up derriere.  ÒDo it!Ó I hissed.  I felt like a girl begging to be 
fucked.  Linda spread my ass with hesitant hands.  I felt an outward 
nudging of the plug.  ÒYank on it!  DonÕt twist it around inside me,Ó I called.  
Reluctantly, inexpertly, she pulled on it.  Out it came, shitty as hers had 
been, and she tossed it thankfully away, flinging it at the men.  They 
darted out of its path, laughed.  She was racking up more misdemeanors 
with them than a skateboarder inside a shopping mall!  I heard SandraÕs 
pop out, saw Alexis do Rose.  Thankfully we rubbed our hineys and hoped 
we might be able to wash them.  The men read our minds.  They doused us 
again, making us spread our hinds for them and practically giving us 
enemas with the thoroughness of their splashings.  At last we were drawn 
from the stone water closet.  We trooped, dripping wet, back across the 
expensively carpeted room with the ladder at its center.  At least we were 
not spoiling the carpet with pee, though someone would have to dry our 
footsteps from it.
         A woman.  Standing in the shadows, with a man.  She looked like one 
of DraculaÕs daughters, standing there, her eyes softly glimmering.  I 
passed her.  We filed into a hallway.  I was the last in line.  ÒShe is too 
young,Ó I heard the woman say from somewhere behind me.  Fingers 
swished through my hair.  They encircled my throat.  Gently, firmly, I was 
held back.  My girlfriends stumbled before me, their bottomcheeks 
receding.  A hand held me round my throat and restrained me.  My bosoms 
peaked in front of me, bare, dripping, the teats uplifted, offered.  They 
were young breasts, girlÕs breasts.  Fingertips snaked out to my teats and 
gently clipped the pointed tits.  I was drawn around.  A mouth came to my 
lips, soft, scented.  I was kissed deeply.  My wet bosoms impressed 
themselves into a womanÕs blouse.
         ÒTake her away,Ó I heard.  Another woman.  Other men.  I had perhaps 
stumbled into a party.  There were many rooms in this house.  It was a fun 
house, with rooms for every taste, every occasion.
         Quietly I was led by the hand down a special hallway, a hallway of 
my very own.  I heard cooing behind me, soft moans, as if I had inspired 
the party that kept me from my friends.  Did I hear clothes husking off?  
The men were undressing.  Did I hear womenÕs stockingÕs slithering down 
their legs, daintily removed, with panties shimmied down hips and bras 
unhooked?  I was too far now, out of earshot.  A woman led me.  I went 
with her.  I did not protest.  I was meek, soft.  I wanted to be feminine.           
My new fearless leader unlocked a door.  She let me in.  It was a doctorÕs 
office.  In a house?  I could not understand, did not want to.  These people 
had too much money.  They played strange games.  My partner in passion 
stepped ahead of me, flicked on more lights.  It wa she who had kissed me.  
Lost in my wetness, in my coursing limbs, in my shaking and wobbling 
tits, I had not identified her clearly.  Now my thoughts settled on her more 
definitely.  She was young.  Early 20Õs.  I stood naked in the reception 
room.  She turned, glanced at me, at the stoutly upholstered chairs, at the 
magazines sitting patiently in the magazine rack on the wall.  ÒWomenÕs 
Monthly:  No Child is Safe!Ó blared the headline on the magazine on the 
wall.  Above it, nestled in the rack:  ÒCosmopolitan:  How to Undress for a 
Man.Ó  Above that, Seventeen:  Ò10 Sexy Things Boys Look for in a Girl.Ó  
         ÒHave a seat,Ó my woman-friend indicated to me, her eyes pointing 
to the nearest chair.  ÒThe doctor will be in shortly.Ó

30

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-END OF story EMISSION