--------------------------------------------------------------- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ 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 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/ Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive. Type: roller666@earthlink.net into the ÒPower SearchÓ box. Click on ÒFindÓ (the button to the right of the box). -----Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated Or via the Web: http://www.eroticstories.com http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges: Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com -----Great sites: http://www.nambla.org http://www.AlessandraSmile.com -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF story EMISSION