---------------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
DESIRE ISLE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Four
Kimberly walked hand in hand from the sauna with Gwendolyn. The
girl seemed smug, lost in a regal reverie, Melanie thought. And no wonder.
The girl had now seen two older females lashed by the whip, yet her own
bottom remained untouched. Kimberly's hips seemed to squirm lewdly,
swaying salaciously as she walked. The bare derriere of Gwendolyn
walked beside hers, also untouched. Melanie felt a strong desire to take a
crop to the bare rumps of both females. Walking lock step with David,
closer than Gwendolyn and Kimberly were to each other, she skittered her
hand over David's bare bottom. He gazed down at her, and smiled. He knew
not that she was cooking plans to scorch him with the crop.
Melanie knew she should leave Gwendolyn's chateau, but she feared
raising such a subject might produce another crop, one not controlled by
her. Reluctantly she realized she must stay, not only because she hadn't
the faintest idea where she was (and no phone seemed in evidence), but
because she hoped by staying she might revenge herself on her companions.
She longed to see their bottoms squirm beneath the crop as hers had done.
"Two wrongs don't make a right," drifted into the back of her mind, but it
was at once dismissed by the phrase following directly on its heels, "An
eye for an eye."
A few footsteps later Gwendolyn presented her companions with a
shower stall. It was just large enough for all four of them to fit. Melanie
still held Kimberly's riding crop in her hand, but judged the moment not
right to use it. One swish from her and, no doubt, David, beautiful lap dog
of Gwendolyn, would be on her in a flash. Discreetly Melanie passed a hand
over her bottom. It was still sore, and tender. At the least she must wait
until her bottom was better, lest she lose the contest with her foes and
wind up being the recipient of a lashing rather than the deliverer. Her
poor bottom could stand no more tonight.
Suddenly Melanie was hit with a spray of cold water, right on her
heinie, as it turned out. A general squeal arose from the foursome as all
of them got splashed with some portion of the shower stream, just
released by Gwendolyn. Melanie spun about to see Gwendolyn's hand still
on the knob that had turned on the shower.
"Auugh! Turn on the hot water," Melanie pleaded. Her hands rubbed
her bottom where the pin pricks of the shower water had stung her.
"There isn't any," Gwendolyn laughed of the hot water. "This shower
is only equipped with cold!" Melanie, and even Kimberly, made to get out
of the infernal cubicle with its harsh stream of icicles, but David blocked
their way. He had evidently been in the shower before, and stood
resolutely with the spray hitting his upper chest, running down his
stomach to drip off the end of his cock.
Gwendolyn danced under the devilish spray and splashed water onto
Kimberly. The little brunette got into the spirit of the act and splashed
back, her body slowly acclimating itself to the chilly water. Finally
Melanie too could bear the stream, and even felt her skin beginning to like
it. The cold was a welcome contrast after the heat of the sauna. David
began to rub her back with his hand, massaging it. A minute later and the
water was off again, and all four of them stepped out, dripping wet.
Gwendolyn folded back a latticed wood closet door and drew forth fluffy
colored towels. They dried each other, even Melanie losing some of her
inhibitions as she towelled down her companions, and was rubbed dry in
turn. Melanie felt frisky as she worked to remove the chilled water from
her acquaintances, and felt a glow come over her as they simultaneously
wiped off her. Melanie had to drop her crop to dry her companions, but
managed to pick it back up afterward before Kimberly could take notice of
it.
Kimberly seemed entranced with Gwendolyn. Melanie had never
known the girl to harbor lesbian intentions, and still doubted that she did.
In fact, she found it hard to imagine that Gwendolyn could be a lessie.
More likely, they had found each other's company so exhilarating in the
sauna that they simply did what came naturally to any two people in such
warm, intimate surroundings. Females were, after all, always more open
about pleasure and tenderness than men, sharing intimacies for them was
not necessarily a matter of declaring oneself to be gay.
Melanie was, perhaps wisely, given a bedroom of her own by
Gwendolyn. Had she been bedded with Kimberly the two would no doubt
have fallen quite quickly into a fight. Gwendolyn bid Melanie goodnight,
Kimberly by her side, grinning like a smug Cheshire cat. Melanie avoided
Kimberly's eyes as much as she could. She would pretend she was
downcast and humiliated until the moment when she could strike.
They stood in the doorway to Melanie's new bedroom, Melanie just
inside, David and Gwendolyn and Kimberly in the hall. "May I have my crop
back, ma'am?" Kimberly asked Gwendolyn. "Melanie took it from me in the
sauna." Melanie put up no resistance, she let Gwendolyn draw the crop
from her fist as she kept her eyes drooping toward her feet. "Thank you,
ma'am," Kimberly gushed affectionately. The little minx! Melanie would
teach her to thank a sadomasochistic vixen like Gwendolyn! Deep down
Melanie was certain that Kimberly would eventually be made a victim
herself, just like she had been.
It was not the first time her step sister had betrayed her, Melanie
thought as she turned away and the bedroom door was locked behind her.
She and Kimberly had battled over boyfriends, competed in school, vyed in
cheerleading. Melanie wished her mother had never married her
stepfather. Why couldn't she have a real sister, or none at all, instead of
stupid little Kimberly? Yet, her mother had remarried when she was only
2 1/2-years-old, and Kimberly 1. For all practical purposes, they were
real sisters. Melanie's earliest memory was of little Kimberly. Perhaps it
was from the day when Kimberly first intruded herself into her life.
Melanie got her first good look at the bedroom which had been given
her for the night. It was sumptuous, there was no doubt of that. The sort
of bedroom Melanie had always dreamed of having, though not, it should be
added, in these sort of circumstances. And it was all hers! Only a few
years ago had she gotten a room of her own, when she had, blooming late,
begun to take on the aspect of a woman. And then little Kimberly's
breasts sprouted shortly thereafter, causing Melanie's mother to remark in
her diffident way that perhaps a separate room for Melanie had been an
unnecessary expense after all.
Melanie padded over to the canopied bed and peeked inside its
curtains. It was fit for a princess, which Melanie had often fancied
herself to be in her younger days. Melanie slithered onto the coverlet and
wriggled underneath it. The sheets were of satin. A moment later and she
was sound asleep.
Gentle tugging of Melanie's earlobe waked her. It was Kimberly,
kneeling nude on the bed, bathed in morning light. Kimberly's crop was in
her hand. "Gwen says to come to breakfast," Kimberly announced. "But
bathe first, if you haven't already."
"IÑI just came in here and fell asleep," Melanie stammered, unsure of
where she was as the drowsiness lifted from her brain. She felt a great
need to pee.
"That's O.K., your sheets will be changed. Now go take a bath and
make it quick," Kimberly said. Finally it dawned on Melanie where she
was. In the house of the evil blonde woman who looked like God's favorite
angel! With her naughty little stepsister, who had betrayed her! Melanie
glowered at Kimberly. She wanted to lunge at the girl, but Kimberly,
perhaps reading Melanie's mind, raised her crop in warning. Then, perhaps
a bit gingerly, Kimberly backed herself off Melanie's bed. "You need a bath
because we haven't taken one since before last night, and we got all
sweaty in the sauna. A cold shower doesn't make up for a bath, you know,"
Kimberly said.
"That's not what I'm mad about...taking a bath!" Melanie scowled.
"Behave or I'll crop your bottom again," Kimberly warned. "I'm better
at it now, I've been whipping Gwendolyn's furniture for practise!" Sullenly
Melanie rose and wrapped her arms over her breasts. Even as she made for
the bathroom she somehow felt lanky, svelte, and forbiddingly cool. She
was taller than Kimberly, her hips fuller (though some men seemed to
relish Kimberly's boyish hips, she'd noticed), a high school graduate ready
for college! Let the little squirt brandish her crop! Nothing could break
the icy reserve that Melanie could muster when she was angry, the
demeanor that so quickly put Kimberly in her place. Behind her she heard
Kimberly switch her crop through the air. The little punk wanted to whack
her, to break her haughtiness, but dared not. While Melanie didn't win all
their fights, she won enough that Kimberly had to think twice before
taking her on, even when armed with the novel new weapon of a riding
crop. In the regal atmosphere known only to those who are the eldest
children, Melanie stalked into the bathroom and shut the door.
Melanie heard Kimberly patter from the bedroom as she looked for a
way to lock the doorknob. There was none. In any normal home this
intimate combination of bedroom and bathroom would have been
considered the master suite, fit only for mothers and fathers. They had no
need of locks to keep their ablutions from one another.
Melanie bent over the rim of a moderately sized tub and turned on its
tap. Then, becoming aware once more of the pressure in her bladder, she
went to the toilet and plopped down upon it. She looked down between her
legs as the first spray of pee ushered forth. Then she put her hands to her
bottom and rubbed the cheeks. They felt well now. When she was done
peeing she rose from the toilet and went to the bathroom mirror. She
stood with her back to it and lifted the cheeks of her bottom with her
palms. They were nearly white again, with only a trace of the red lines
which had so painfully scored them the night before. Melanie traced a
fingertip over the remnants of the lines. There was hardly any sensation
at all, save that one ordinarily felt when rubbing one's bottom.
Melanie stepped over to the tub. She found a bottle of bubble bath
perched on its rim and poured in some of the contents. She stirred the
water with her hand until the bubbles bloomed. Then she stepped in and
sank with a luxurious little sigh into the fullness of the waters.
Melanie must have drifted off to sleep for she awoke to see an
unfamiliar man staring down at her. Melanie gave a start and put her
hands to her floating bosoms to cover them. The rest of her was hidden
beneath the bubbles, though the foam had greatly dissipated from the time
she had first stirred it in. In his hand the man held a short thonged
schooling whip. "Hello, my name is Martin," the man said easily. He was
dressed in formal morningwear. Melanie felt a chill of fright run down her
spine. "Roll over," Martin advised.
"Please sir," Melanie begged.
"Please, I wish to be gentle with you," Martin said. "If you don't obey
I shall have to whip your breasts instead." Melanie's hands were over her
breasts, but she had little doubt the big man could overpower her and lift
her wrists high above her head, where they would be useless. Haplessly
Melanie rolled over in the warm, sudsy water. "Lift up your bottom," the
man instructed. "Let me see it."
Let him see it? Melanie knew very well he wanted to do more than
just look at her bottom! But what could she do? How could she escape?
She bit her lip and, looking up at the man, raised her bottom toward him
until the cheeks broke fully from the froth laden waters. The man reached
down with a gloved hand. It was of leather. Gently, almost tenderly, he
touched her heinie. He stroked it. "Yes, you are ready for more," the man
said. "Although," he bent closer. "I see two little lines still from your
discipline last night." Her bottom must have whitened more as she lay in
the tub. How long had she been here? Melanie felt a desire to pee again.
The room seemed brighter, as if it were mid-morning now.
"Finish your bath and come downstairs," the man said. "Breakfast
will have to be made again for you. Your meal grew cold and had to be
thrown out." He turned and walked from the room. Melanie shuddered and
flipped back onto her back. She wrapped her arms over her breasts.
Somehow, some way, she had been spared the whipping! All because of
two little pink lines that had not faded yet. Melanie wondered if she could
whip herself, give herself just enough lines to prevent anyone else from
whipping her again. She was still thinking on this when Gwendolyn walked
into the bathroom.
"I've had a complaint," Gwendolyn said simply. "About your bottom.
Roll over and let me inspect it." Melanie did as she was told. Gwendolyn
reached down and traced her bare hands over her posterior. "Hmm, yes,
those lines should fade by noon though," Gwendolyn said aloud to herself.
"Ma'am?" Melanie piped up. She wanted to call the woman a bitch but
dared not. "Why are you keeping me here? I'm frightened...I want to go
home." Gwendolyn smiled. It was a loving, tender smile. Her face seemed
to radiate goodness from underneath her cascading halo of golden hair.
"My dear," Gwendolyn said. "That man was Martin. Do you remember
him?" Melanie didn't want to think of anything but going home, but she
nonetheless must have used some part of her mind to attempt to answer
Gwendolyn's question, for she suddenly realized the man who nearly
whipped her had bumped into her on the ski slope just days before.
"Oh!" Melanie said, her bottom still thrusting from the water.
"That's Martin! Maria's lover!"
"Yes, well, Maria only told you she was his lover. No doubt they do
have fun in bed, but she is really just his whore. He employs her to find
young girls for him to fuck. Girls like you. Or, rather, he used to employ
her. He's fired her for being so foolish at Lady Burgess' party. She should
have gotten you and your little stepsister safely away from there after a
bit instead of staying and playing along with Lady Burgess'. Apparently
Maria was a double-whore, working for Martin but also taking money from
Lady Burgess. The two detest each other."
"Lady Burgess and Martin?" Melanie asked, not really knowing why.
Perhaps it was just to postpone any whippings Gwendolyn might have in
store for her. Melanie let her bottom sink beneath the waters of the tub.
The bubbles swirled over it, like ice covered waters closing over a lost
ship.
"Yes," Gwendolyn replied. "Now I have been hired by Martin to take
his place. As of this morning. Normally I wouldn't have allowed you to be
cropped so soon again after your lesson last night, but he insisted.
Perhaps Kimberly's inexperience saved you. She did hit you more harshly
than I would have liked. She has yet to develop finesse."
"Ma'am, I still want to go home," Melanie said.
"All girls who stay with me long enough learn to love the crop,"
Gwendolyn protested. "And many other fine implements as well."
"I don't want to love the crop, or the whip," Melanie said.
"Tell me," Gwendolyn said. She sat her lovely bottom down on the
rim of the tub. She was dressed in a charcoal garter belt and black fishnet
stockings. She wore shiny, inky pumps. Over-the-elbow fingerless
mittens encased her arms. She gave her blonde mane a toss. "Do you love
your stepsister?" Melanie scrunched up her face at this question.
"I guess so," Melanie said tentatively.
"But you are angry at her for whacking your bottom last night with
the crop, are you not?" Gwendolyn asked.
"Yes, and you too, ma'am," Melanie said. Gwendolyn laughed a laugh
like golden bells tinkling.
"So you want to get revenge on her, don't you?" Gwendolyn asked. "I
know I would have, when I was still burdened with a little sister."
"Yes," Melanie said. "With the riding crop, if truth be told."
"Then you must love the crop, at least a little," Gwendolyn replied.
"Only for punishing wrongdoers," Melanie said. "But I've never
actually used one."
"Well!" Gwendolyn said. "That can be remedied. Would you like to
practice a little on David's rump? He might actually enjoy it."
"Ma'am, I don't want any part of any of your plans," Melanie said
boldly. "I know if I join with you in your wicked pursuits I'll soon be the
victim again." Gwendolyn tittered.
"We are all victims," Gwendolyn said. "Slaves and masters, each in
our turn." She rose and walked from the room. A moment later she
returned with a small throw pillow. She placed it on the rim of the tub.
Melanie wondered at her intentions. Suddenly, surprisingly, Gwendolyn
stepped into the tub, without even removing her heels, which looked brand
new and surely deserved more thoughtful care. Gwendolyn turned her back
to Melanie and sank down on her knees. She bent forward, positioning the
cushion underneath her tummy. Her fingertips touched the tiled floor
outside the tub.
Melanie gazed in wonder at Gwendolyn's sumptuous bottom. Full,
round, arching out to whatever might befall it. Melanie could hardly
believe her eyes. Here was this woman, presenting her bottom, knowing
full well that Melanie had just said she wanted very much to punish it.
Martin walked into the bathroom, his voice preceding him. "Dammit!
That little bitch named Kimberly is hiding from me, Gwen, and she even
threw a Poptart at me--" Martin stopped in sudden awe. The schooling
whip was still in his hand, twitching idly.
"There is no need to exert yourself, darling," Gwendolyn cooed. "I
very meanly had Melanie cropped last night and she is going to pay me
back." There was laughter in Gwendolyn's voice, but Melanie needed no
further permission. Kneeling up in the tub, just behind Gwendolyn, she
brought her wet palm loudly down upon Gwendolyn's ass.
SPLAP! Gwendolyn's cheeks quivered as Melanie's little hand
delivered a blow. SLAP! SPLAP! Two more blows followed, Gwendolyn
giggling, Martin staring openmouthed. SPLAP! SLAP! SPLAP! Melanie hit
Gwendolyn's exposed bottom again and again, wetting the shimmying flesh
with her hand as she hit it, drying her hand with the heat of her blows.
Martin unzippered himself. He drew forth an impressive penis,
Melanie saw out of the corner of her eye as she continued the spanking.
Martin strode forward and, bending slightly, pressed the knob of his tool
into Gwendolyn's oral orifice. Between her slaps Melanie could hear
Gwendolyn begin to slurp upon Martin's dick. Suddenly Melanie felt evil,
like she was participating in the very wicked scheme she had forsworn.
Yet, here was this devilish woman's bottom, right here for her to smack as
hard as she could. Melanie did her best to put out of her mind what was
taking place in front of her between Martin and Gwendolyn. Sticking her
tongue out of the corner of her mouth, she spanked on.
A bit later, after Martin had come, with much loud exclamations of
pleasure, Melanie straightened her back for the final time and dropped her
hand. It hurt too much for her to continue. She panted. Gwendolyn's
bottom was a sea of red, on an otherwise flawlessly white body.
Gwendolyn erected her back. She looked over her shoulder at Melanie. The
18-year-old gasped, eyes meeting her own, saying nothing.
"You do better with your hand than Kimberly does with her crop, I
think," Gwendolyn said. Melanie sat back on her heels, her own bottom
sinking safely beneath the bubbled waters. Her white breasts jutted
forth, tipped by strawberry nipples.
"I babysit little kids sometimes," Melanie said. "Sometimes they
have to be spanked." Gwendolyn tittered.
"Little boys, you mean? You drop their pants and give them a
whaling?" the woman asked.
"And little girls too, if they're naughty," Melanie said. "If their
parents give permission. I'm not a sitter much anymore, though. I got a
job at McDonald's."
"McDonald's?" Gwendolyn threw back her hair and laughed as hard as
any sophisticated woman possibly could. "McDonald's?" She looked over at
Melanie through eyes slitted by humor. Melanie began to blush.
"There are much better ways you could serve society than by giving
them hamburgers," Gwendolyn said, recovering her composure. Melanie
became aware of the jutting of her breasts. Too late! Gwendolyn's
mittened hands, still dry, came to her titties. She cupped them firmly but
gently, as if handling rare hothouse fruit. "Look at these, just look at
yourself for once!" Gwendolyn exclaimed. With tentative eyes, more to
guard her tits than obey Gwen, Melanie looked down at her mammaries.
"You are an extraordinarily beautiful girl," Gwendolyn said. "That's one of
the reasons I whipped you, I confess, I was jealous of your beauty."
"You?" Melanie looked up at the woman with wide eyes. "You're the
one who's beautiful, even if I do hate you."
"Nonsense, darling," Gwendolyn said. "I'm simply older. Pretty, yes,
even very pretty, but you're another notch above me. Even Kimberly can't
quite compare with you, and I think she knows it."
"Well, I'm not going to defend stupid Kimberly's looks, though she is
very popular at school," Melanie said. Then, thoughtfully, "too popular. But
you are the most gorgeous of all."
"Be my pupil," Gwendolyn urged. Her eyes were bright, fierce. "I
want you more than any girl I've ever trained, and I've trained many that
men would have killed for."
"What-what do you want of me?" Melanie asked, overcome with
curiosity. Never in her life had she found herself in such a situation.
"I want to do with you what it is my job to do," Gwendolyn said.
"Train females in the art of love. Some are ex-wives who come to me,
hoping for a man, some are wives, sent by their husbands for lessons,
some are college girls, hoping to go a-whoring, some, like you, are young
girls who are captured or just wander into my life."
"I-I don't want to be trained in-" and here her voice caught in her
throat-"in the art of love," Melanie protested.
"Of course you do!" Gwendolyn hissed. "All girls do! They are rolled
over and spanked by their brothers at age 10 and they love it. At 12, or
13, they are giving blow jobs, surrendering their virginity. At 16 they are
succumbing to the football team captain in the back seat of his car. At 18
they are partying at college, in the frat house, amidst leering boys who
they know will rape them."
"And then?" Melanie asked, caught up in the story, much of it a
reprise of her own life.
"And then," Gwendolyn took on a faraway look. "And then some go for
an "M-r-s." degree, others try careers. Too many wind up with wrinkles
and glass ceilings and failed marriages and thoughtless children. I didn't
want that to happen to me. I decided to play for the rest of my life. As a
mistress, a madam."
"A very fucking expensive madam," Martin, who had seated himself
on the furred lid of the toilet, piped up.
"You must pay for the best if you expect to get it, darling,"
Gwendolyn said over her slim shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. She
looked marvelously demure, despite her dishabille, even to Melanie.
"I'm afraid," Melanie said. Gwendolyn turned back to her. "A-afraid
of being called a whore! And of being whipped."
"You were whipped last night, are you not better now?" Gwendolyn
asked. As if for emphasis her right hand slithered down Melanie's wet
side, but did not touch her bottom after all. It rested on the flare of her
hip.
"Yes, I'm better now, but it hurt very much last night," Melanie said.
"Do you plan to have children one day?" Gwendolyn asked frankly.
"Of course," Melanie said.
"And will it not hurt, and hurt extremely at the time, to give birth to
a baby?" Gwendolyn asked.
"So I've heard," Melanie said.
"Yet you plan to have children all the same, don't you?" Gwendolyn
asked.
"Yes, I do," Melanie said.
"And when you lost your virginity, you'd been told that would hurt
too, weren't you?" Gwendolyn asked, pressing her point.
"Yes," Melanie admitted.
"But you weathered in anyway, for the pleasure it would bring you
afterward," Gwendolyn summed up.
"Well, it wasn't enjoyable at all the first time, or the second either,"
Melanie protested.
"But last night you rode David like a horse, didn't you?" Gwendolyn
smiled.
"Mmm, yes," Melanie admitted.
"And the cropping? Did not it make your bulb glow, after a while,
glow with inner warmth?" Gwendolyn asked.
"Yes, but it still hurt too," Melanie said. Absently her hand went to
her bottom and rubbed her cheeks. Her nether cheeks. Eventually her
bottom had felt delicious, exuding a heat she had never felt before. And
she had felt delightful when she rubbed it on the satin satin sheets of her
bed too.
"And when you heard the other woman being beaten in the sauna,
with your own so recently punished bottom so close to the crop, did that
not drive you to a fever pitch of excitement, giving you more orgasms than
you'd ever dreamed?" Gwendolyn asked. Melanie felt very naughty talking
about orgasms, but she silently nodded her head. "So, you see," Gwendolyn
replied, artfully sliding a mittened palm back to cup a cheek of Melanie's
bottom. "Everything in life has its place, both pain and pleasure, and
sometimes, in the best of circumstances, they are combined; in childbirth,
in the loss of one's virginity, and in sexual games. You must let me teach
you, at least for a few days!"
"Nooo," Melanie said, but felt herself falling under the power of the
lovely Amazon even as she spoke. How she wanted to be like Gwendolyn!
Svelte, lovely, yet bold and powerful, master of her own pleasure, and
getting paid for it to boot! Melanie thought of the long hours she had put
in already at McDonald's. Sweat, smelly odors, being treated rudely, all
for a few measly dollars that could buy her little more than the gas to go
back the next day and work again. Was that really how she wanted to
spend her summer? Saving for college, sure, but what was college, really,
but more long hours, cooped up in a library with boring books nobody but
captive students would ever read. An image of herself, bejeweled,
ravishing, sinking into a canopied bed strewn with flowers flashed
through Melanie's mind. Beyond a man, dressed much like Martin, with
bulging muscles, observing her, lusting for her, but getting her only if he
paid, despite the fact that she was as attracted to him as he was to her.
"Maybe-maybe just for a little bit, a day or two," Melanie said.
"That's the answer I expected," Gwendolyn smiled, teeth flashing.
"You are as smart as you are beautiful. I only want to train you, darling.
Whether you choose to turn your training into a professional occupation is
up to you."
"Okay," Melanie said softly. She felt Gwendolyn find her hand and
take it. Together they rose from the tub. Melanie suddenly caught sight of
Martin and remembered his presence. She shrank back slightly. Gwendolyn
caught her feeling.
"Do I get to whip her now?" Martin asked bluntly, rising from the
toilet, flagellum in his hand.
"No, Martin, you will never lay another finger on her," Gwendolyn
said. "You are a pig." The girls stepped from the tub as Gwendolyn spoke.
"What?!" Martin cried, incredulous. Melanie felt bolder at
Gwendolyn's words, which even in her ears came as a shock. She had
rather liked Martin, despite his coarseness. At that moment Kimberly
appeared in the doorway. She threw a Poptart at Martin and giggled. There
was a riding crop in her hand. She made to run, hoping, apparently, that
Martin would give chase.
"As I said, Martin, you will never have Melanie," Gwendolyn said. "I
only offered her to you because I was jealous of her. Now we are sisters.
And we are going to put you in your place." Melanie didn't quite know what
to make of Gwendolyn's words, but they sounded enticing. Could the two
of them really gang up on this large man? Suddenly, impishly, Kimberly
dashed into the bathroom and wriggled her riding crop at Martin, as if to
engage his with a sword. Furiously, his face red, Martin lashed his whip
down through the air. Perhaps due to Kimberly's rapidly rising dexterity
with the crop, the thong of the whip caught round Kimberly's crop and
became wrapped about it.
At the same moment Gwendolyn rushed past Kimberly and seized
Martin. Melanie, taking her cue from Gwendolyn, ran at Martin too.
Martin's pants, never fully buttoned after his forced blow job on
Gwendolyn, fell from his hips as he raised up the hand he had been using to
hold them round his waist. The girls knocked him backward and his head
hit the tank of the toilet. The hard ceramic knocked him a blow on the
noggin as a flower pot perched there fell theatrically onto the side of his
head, spilling dirt, giving him another unwelcome blow.
It did not take Martin long to recover his addled senses, but when he
did the girls had already swiftly bound his wrists with rope. He still
slumped backward upon the toilet, and as he watched the girls roped his
ankles together.
"That's not how you tie a knot, silly," Melanie said to Kimberly.
Gwendolyn took over and finished the work in proper form.
"Hey! What are you up to?" Martin bleated.
"We ought to flush you down the toilet," Gwendolyn hissed.
"I paid my money," Martin complained. "And a lot of it, too."
"I'm sorry, I've just never liked you Martin," Gwendolyn said primly.
"I'm going to stash you in my basement for a few days while I play with
my new friends and then, after I've sold this chateau, I'm going to go away
where you'll never find me."
"Cursed bitch!" Martin swore. Gwendolyn rose and bid the girls
follow her. Together they padded out of the bathroom, Kimberly turning to
stick her tongue out at Martin as she left. "Fucking whore! Whorrre!"
Martin drew out the word, savoring it. "You're all whores! Whores from
Hell!"
"That's a good name," Gwendolyn said thoughtfully to the girls as
they exited the bedroom. "I like that!" Melanie and Kimberly giggled.
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