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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         DESIRE ISLE

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                                         Chapter Six

         That afternoon Gwendolyn insisted on the girls getting bundled up 
and going skiing.  Earlier David had mysteriously disappeared, and the 
room where Martin was confined was locked tight, with Gwendolyn 
refusing to breathe a word about the location of its key.  Both Melanie and 
Kimberly were considerably aroused from their lunch, and seemed 
distracted as Gwendolyn made them dress and outfit themselves in the 
proper gear.  Gwendolyn smiled to herself.  There would be no resistance 
on either girl's part when it came time for them to be led to love.
         Melanie got her first real look at the Chateau's surroundings when 
the girls went outside with Gwendolyn.  Melanie blew out her breath.  It 
seemed to fog the distant trees.  All about the air was quiet and still.  A 
sun mired behind haze nonetheless cast a bright, crisp light over the hills.  
Gwen's chateau sat all by itself, with only the occasional pine for 
company.  Farther out the road that snaked within a stone's throw of the 
house disappeared amidst a line of trees.  In the distance mountains rose.   
         "Ready girls?" Gwendolyn asked.
         "Yes ma'am," Melanie said.  She wondered why she still called the 
woman "ma'am."  Kimberly sometimes called her "Gwen," but then the two 
of them had made love to each other in the sauna.  No matter, the woman 
was rich, and older than they, and, if truth be told, a madam, at least for 
the highest strata of men in society.  It wasn't a bad way to earn a living, 
really, considering most women had to marry for their comfort and 
security, or work their asses off for some corporation.  Everyone made 
their living in the way that suited them best.  Gwendolyn just seemed to 
have more fun at it than most.
         With a wriggle of her curvaceous hips Gwendolyn shoved off, skiing 
down the hillock, parallel to the road.  Kimberly kicked off behind her, 
using her poles, giving a little squeal as she just managed to miss a bare 
little sapling growing in the snow covered front lawn.  Melanie followed.
         Down through the powder they raced, picking up speed as they went, 
coming to the bottom of the first little hill only to ride on to the slope of 
a bigger one.  Melanie felt the chill air biting into her face and felt an 
exhilarating sense of freedom.  She had a woman who attended to her 
every need, and a man who seemed to love her.  And, of course, there were 
always the goings on of her little stepsister for comic relief.  
         Kimberly's bottom still burned from her whipping, though it had been 
almost entirely replaced now by a warm, bulbous glow, leaving any pain 
she felt largely to the province of her imagination.  A cacophony of little 
girl thoughts raced round in her mind, a wish for bubblegum, an wondering 
about the imminent release of a new pop idol's record, an excitement at 
being on the snow.
         Much later the girls came to rest in a little clearing.  Gwendolyn sat 
down on a stump and heaved her chest as she pulled off her tasseled cap.  
Kimberly rubbed her mittened hands together.  "Gwen, I have to go to the 
bathroom," Kimberly said.  Melanie felt the need to go to.  It was the cold.
         "Well, this should be the perfect rest spot for you, then," Gwendolyn 
said cheerily to Kimberly.  "I've often gone here myself."
         "Right here?  In the snow?  How?" Kimberly asked.  Her hips gave a 
little quiver.
         "Look," Gwendolyn pointed.  "See that tree stump?"  It was an old 
stump that had somehow lost its middle.  Either edge of the stump still 
stood, but between the two halves there was nothing.  It was rather like a 
canyon, but with no front wall or back wall and a floor made of the 
surrounding snow.  "Sit there just like you would on a chair.  Then just pull 
down your pants and pee.  The ground slopes very nicely down and away 
from the rear of the slump, so your pee will just roll backward on the 
snow, away from your feet.  You can even poop too, if you wish."  Kimberly 
seemed in no position to argue, given the constant little movements her 
hips felt obliged to render.  She walked with a slightly awkward gait over 
to the stump.  She sat down carefully and undid her pants.  Then Kimberly 
lifted her bottom slightly from the surface of the stump and pulled her 
jeans down to her knees.  She sat her bottom well back on the stump.  
Then, with a sheepish grin, she began to pee.  Melanie couldn't help 
laughing.
         "What do they call Yellowstone in winter?" Melanie asked Gwendolyn.
         "Tell me," Gwendolyn smiled.
         "Yellowsnow," Melanie laughed.
         When Kimberly was finished she self-consciously pulled up her pants 
and got up from the makeshift potty.  Then Melanie, having had her little 
sport with Kimberly, surprised both her friends by revealing her own need 
to pee also.  She padded over to the stump and gingerly sat down.  She 
repeated the same actions as Kimberly.  Finally Gwendolyn, perhaps only 
wanting to join her friends, paid her own visit to the woodland potty.
         Gwendolyn knew a roundabout approach to her cabin that gave them 
almost as many hills to ski down as the outward journey had.  When they 
got back the sun was waning fast, and the chateau looked especially 
inviting.  Soon all three girls were stripped naked and in the sauna.  
         Kimberly sat shyly next to Gwendolyn, remembering their encounter 
the previous night.  For her own part Gwen kept up her staid countenance.  
She anointed herself with baby oil, then invited Kimberly to produce steam 
by pouring water over the sauna's hot coals.  The girl eagerly obliged, 
happy to have something to occupy her fidgety hands.  Melanie, demure and 
retiring like Gwendolyn, contented herself with merely soaking in the 
heat.  Later Gwen passed her the bottle of baby oil and, like some Egyptian 
princess, she oiled down her limbs, carefully working the salve into every 
inch of her body.  When finally she was still once more, the bottle empty 
beside her, she sat with eyes closed and legs spread wide.  She dreamed of 
being taken by Earl.
         That evening Gwendolyn took the girls to a shopping mall in her limo, 
driving them herself.  They all sat three abreast in the car, along the front 
seat.  The affairs of the previous night in the back of the limo surfaced 
briefly, but then were suppressed or forgotten.  Gwendolyn gave each of 
the girls a credit card with her name on it, and insisted over Melanie's 
objections that the girls spend some of her money.
         "First, however, each of you must accompany me to the beauty 
salon," Gwendolyn said.  "If you're to stay with me you must always look 
your very best."  Saying that, she took the girls to a little shop in the mall 
where the proprietress lavished every attention on them and didn't let 
them leave until every last strand of their hair had been assiduously 
attended to.  
         Later, on the way home, loaded with new clothes, shoes, and 
accessories, Melanie suggested that they must stop by the girl's hotel to 
check on their room and see if there had been any calls from their parents.  
There had, and, suppressing giggles, the girls called their parents collect 
and acted as if not a thing out of the ordinary had happened during their 
stay.  Of course they did not tell them that they were no longer sleeping in 
their hotel room.
         David did not reappear for dinner, but Gwendolyn cooked a meal 
herself for the girls and sat down with them.  Melanie found herself 
wishing Earl would drop by.
         "Where is David?" Kimberly asked, lifting a big spoonful of 
homemade chili to her lips.
         "Gone, I'm afraid," Gwendolyn said, stirring her soup and then lifting 
a helping to her own lips.  "He left me a note but I couldn't read it.  Such a 
nice boy."
         "He didn't even say goodbye," Melanie pouted.
         "Perhaps he's only out for a bit and will be back," Gwendolyn said.  
"I'm afraid the fact that he can't speak or write English makes him rather 
like one's dog, leaving the house, then coming back later, moving to his 
own schedule and timetable."
         "Well how about Martin?" Melanie asked.  "Are you just going to leave 
him locked up in the cellar?" 
         "He has a little room to himself with a toilet and sink, plus a small 
refrigerator to keep him fed until I move out this weekend," Gwendolyn 
said.  "You see, girls, you are not the only ones who have to depart at the 
end of the week.  I too must go."
         "But why?" Kimberly asked.  "It seems so nice here."
         "Yes, but I long for the sun," Gwen replied.  "I'm tired of snow in the 
winter.  I've found a place in Europe, on the Mediterranean.  Saturday the 
movers will come and pack me out.  Sunday the new tenant will move in.  
He's an acquaintance of mine.  I'll let him release Martin.  Then watch that 
pig snort and squeal when he finds I'm gone and he must hunt all over the 
coasts of Europe for me if he wishes to tell me off, or try to use his 
schooling whip on my behind!"  Gwendolyn tittered.
         "I rather liked him," Melanie said quietly, partaking of her chili.  The 
broth was thin, but it was chock full of little morsels of hamburger, with 
bits of tomato, celery, and cheese for accompaniment.
         "I did too once," Gwen said.  "So much so I contemplated marrying 
him."  Melanie looked up, surprised.  "But the more I was around him the 
more distasteful he became to me.  Trust me, girls, Martin is not for you, 
despite the fact that I almost put him to your bottom yesterday, Melanie.  
He is a grasping, greedy son ofa bitch."  Melanie winced at Gwen's 
profanity.  The woman must really have a dislike for the man.
         "May we visit you in France, Gwen?" Kimberly asked.  The girl was 
calling the woman by her first name almost always now.
         "You may stay with me if you wish, provided you can arrange it with 
your parents," Gwendolyn replied.  "Melanie no doubt can jet off with me no 
matter what her parents think but you, Kimberly, no matter how much you 
might wish it were not so, are still a minor.  I wouldn't want to be 
accused of kidnapping you."  A wry smile crossed Melanie's face.  Kimberly 
noticed it and glowered.
         After dinner Gwendolyn introduced Kimberly to some video games in 
her parlor.  The girl took to them with predictable relish.  Melanie only 
looked on, disinterested in such childish fare.  Gwen seemed pleased with 
Melanie's lack of interest, and drew her away into another room.
         At Gwen's urging Melanie seated herself on the soft cloth of a 
loveseat.  Gwen sat beside her, and drew off a pack of cards from a shelf 
behind them.  To Melanie's surprise, the cards were decorated to 
commemorate the profession of prostitution.  The king was the man who 
paid for pleasure, the queen the madam who received his money.  The jack 
was a young girl learning the ways of love.  The two began a simple, 
pleasant game.  The conversation naturally became concerned with 
harlotry.
         "There has been a change of plans," Gwen said quietly.  "About 
tomorrow."  Melanie looked up.
         "Oh, I so wanted to see Earl's office!" Melanie said.
         "You still may.  He just won't be there, is all," Gwen replied.  
"Another man will be, however."
         "To show us around?" Melanie asked.
         "In a manner of speaking," Gwen said.  In fact she had trouble 
suppressing a giggle.  Earl's absence was not unplanned.  He would be in a 
room adjacent to the office, taking pictures, which would later be shown 
around.  "I must ask you, how do you feel about trying out being a tart?"  
         Melanie sat quietly for a moment, pretending to study her cards.  A 
queen and jack stared up at her; nude, svelte, willing.  Beyond, lying face 
up on the cushion of the chair, was a king, his rod swollen and ready.  In 
the hand of the queen was a riding crop.  There was a touch of fright to the 
female jack's countenance.  It seemed to make her more appealing.  "IÑI 
would only ever be willing to try it with you," Melanie said to Gwen.  "With 
you as my madam."
         "Then tomorrow will be your first assignment," Gwen said.  "A man 
you do not know, have never seen before, and are unlikely to see again.  He 
has been tested, though, and found to be free of disease.  The other 
madams and I have a doctor downtown who we employ for just such a 
purpose.  All orders must be cleared by him before they can be filled."
         Melanie looked up.  She met Gwen's eyes and seemed to have faraway 
thoughts.  "Do you haveÑ do you have a doctor in Europe as well?"  
         "Of course dear, no party is allowed to proceed without one," Gwen 
said.  "There is a loose confederation of doctors around the world who 
exist for the sole purpose of insuring that the parties of the rich are 
infection free.  All of the men are checked, and some of the females.  We 
have had no problems.  The fee for tomorrow's assignment is $2,000."
         "$2,000?!" Melanie blurted.  Her eyes gaped wide.  A trace of a smile 
lifted up the corner of her lips.
         "With $500 for me," Gwen said.
         "I've heard of girls getting $200 an hour, but notÑ" Melanie began.
         "I run a high class service," Gwen said simply.  "Afterwards I shall 
take you shopping, if you likeÑ or you can save your money.  We're always 
paid in cash."
         "Tax free," Melanie said, musing over her cards once more.  She 
offered one up to the game.  It was the jack.
         "Of course," Gwen replied.  "Now let's finish this quickly and get you 
off to bed.  You will need your rest for tomorrow."  With quick cardplay 
Gwen managed to win the game betwixt them in less than three minutes.
         Gwendolyn came into Melanie's room after her bath and gave her a 
sleeping pill.  Melanie was happy for it, she knew she would have slept 
fitfully otherwise, anticipating the morrow.  Soon, snuggled up in her bed 
in a silk teddy Gwen had given her, Melanie slipped off to dreamland.
         Melanie was groggy in the morning when a rustling by her side 
roused her from her slumber.  Gwen was there, a porcelain teacup in her 
hand.  Melanie, still lying down, with her head propped up somewhat by her 
fluffy pillow, took the cup in both her small hands.  Gwen helped her tip it 
to her lips and drink it.  
         When the cup was empty, Gwen had Melanie sit up.  She took a brush 
and glossed Melanie's hair, getting out all the little kinks that had 
developed during a night of sleep.  Melanie sat with one of her teddy's 
spaghetti straps hanging down by her elbow.  It left her right bosom bare.  
As Gwen brushed Melanie's hair she smoothed the remaining strap off 
Melanie's shoulder.  The teddy fell down her torso, its straps confining her 
arms even as her breasts were left totally naked.  Gwen smoothed the 
remains of the teddy into a pool of folds in Melanie's lap.  Her tummy 
shone pale and flat, her darling little navel a reminder of the fucking that 
had brought her into the world, crying, with an umbilical cord stretching 
back into her mother's womb.  She had had to be spanked to get her 
breathing, to bring her into the world of the living.
         "After your bath you will find a few things lying on your bed to 
wear," Gwen said softly but firmly.  "Put them on, and nothing else.  Then 
come down the hall to my bedroom and I'll sit you down in front of my 
beauty mirror and do your makeup.  It must be perfect."  Melanie nodded.  
Gwen rose, picked up the empty teacup from where it had been placed on a 
nightstand beside the bed, and left the room.  Melanie watched the woman 
as she walked out.  Tall, regal, hips swaying with the fullness of 
womanhood, back straight and erect.  Melanie found herself hoping she one 
day might be as sophisticated and worldly as Gwen.  Perhaps this 
"assignment" would help.
         After a languorous bath Melanie walked back out to her bedroom, 
still towelling herself, to find a beautiful fur coat laid out.  Melanie 
gasped.  Was this to be hers?  She could hardly believe it!  Then she cast 
her eyes about for the remainder of her clothes.  There was nothing, save a 
long pair of polished black leather boots, and a skimpy pair of lacy white 
panties.  Melanie found herself letting out another gasp.  Was she expected 
to wear nothing but panties to her "assignment"?  
         After a rather contemplative dressing, Melanie swished her way 
down the hall in her new fur coat to Gwendolyn's bedroom.  "Ah, you're just 
in time!" Gwen smiled, rising from her beauty mirror.  She motioned for 
Melanie to remove her coat, which she hung in the closet.  Melanie took a 
seat in front of the makeup mirror and Gwendolyn trotted over.  They 
engaged in small talk as Melanie was fitted with large, dangling earrings 
and her face worked over until its natural beauty was absolutely 
exquisite.  By tacit agreement they said nothing of the upcoming event at 
the office.  Finally Gwen urged Melanie from the chair before the mirror 
and stepped back to admire the full effect of her work.  "You really don't 
need any makeup at all," Gwen grinned.  "But I suppose a male likes to 
know that his female has spent a lot of time dithering over her 
appearance."  Melanie brushed her hair back with a svelte caress of her 
hand and looked at herself in the mirror.  
         "I liked the attention," Melanie said.  "You've made me feel spoiled."
         "Back into your fur coat," Gwen said, fetching the garment from the 
closet and bringing it over.  Melanie slipped it back on.  It made her feel 
warm and secure.
         Gwendolyn and Melanie slipped quietly out of the house.  Melanie 
caught a glimpse of Kimberly as she passed the parlor.  The girl was 
sitting with a thick shawl draped over her shoulders, engrossed in a video 
game.  The twin hemispheres of her bottom stuck out nakedly beneath the 
fringe of the shawl.  She sat crosslegged on the floor, like a little child.  
She knew nothing of Melanie's "assignment."
         Melanie felt very privileged as she swayed her way out of the limo 
that dropped her and Gwendolyn off outside Earl's office building.  As the 
twin females moved together through the building's lobby Melanie felt the 
eyes of other girls upon her.  Even on the elevator and then down the hall 
where they got off females gazed at her.  The fur coat she wore was the 
envy of them all, and no doubt they thought it matched by equally splendid 
clothes underneath.
         Past a private secretary with perfectly coiffed hair and an ample 
bustline they walked, into a luxurious corner office.  A man rose from 
behind a big mahogany desk as Gwendolyn softly closed the door behind 
them, shutting out the secretary.  Melanie let her eyes take in the man in a 
steady, innocent stare.  He was at least 20 years older than she, but he 
moved with a grace and dignity unmatched by any males his junior.  Wide 
shoulders surmounted a trim frame.  His muscles seemed still taut and 
lean; with looks like that, he had no doubt trained many a girl.
         Melanie felt like a virgin.  She was in totally uncharted territory.  
Never before had she explored such a relationship.  Gwen stepped up behind 
her and slipped the fur coat off her shoulders.  Naked she stood now before 
the man, save for her teensy white panties.  Somehow she knew she would 
not be required to take off her glossy black boots.  
         The man came right up to Melanie and cupped her chin in his hand.  He 
lifted it.  "What is your name?" the man asked.
         "Melanie," the blonde answered, almost whispering.
         "You may call me Dick," the man replied.  Was it his real name?  Or 
just one he had made up for the event, Melanie wondered.  His eyes 
skimmed down to her breasts.  Naked they quivered before him.  He seemed 
to drink in their fullness, but evidenced no desire to touch them.  "Do you 
know why you are here?" Dick asked.
         "To be of assistance to you sir," Melanie replied.  She had been told 
by Gwen to say that.
         "Ah, how gracefully put," Dick smiled.  It was a friendly smile, 
fatherly, yet one that Melanie could see would brook no disobedience.
         "I brought the cane," Gwen said from behind.  Melanie felt a shiver 
run down her spine.  Must they cane her?  She knew if Gwen had not had her 
birched in the snow she would have bolted from the room then and there.
         "Ah, good," Dick replied, his eyes never leaving the front of Melanie's 
form.  His gaze drifted down to her undies.  Her little undies, so 
insignificant, insubstantial.  Yet Melanie could see in his demeanor that 
they would not be allowed to remain on her.  "Take off your panties," Dick 
said.
         "Yes sir," Melanie replied, trembling with awareness at the cane 
Gwen held at her back, at the rising tent in Dick's crotch.  She loosed the 
little ties of her drawers and, standing with her legs slightly parted, 
watched them flutter to the floor.  Dick cupped her chin once more and 
lifted her face to his.  
         "You are so very pretty," Dick said admiringly.  He kissed her once, 
lightly, on the forehead.  Melanie felt very much like a little girl.  A little 
girl in the omnipotent hands of her daddy.
         "Come and admire the view," Dick gestured, and led Melanie over to 
the picturesque window behind his desk.  It opened onto a breathtaking 
view of the lake.  Bottom bulbing, Melanie stood before the window.  She 
placed her hands to the glass.  It felt cold.  She pressed her breasts 
against it.  Her perky nipples squished against the hardness of the glass.  
The chill coming off the glass made her nipples feel an even greater need 
to erect themselves.  Melanie exhaled her breath and watched as it fogged 
the glass, then slowly cleared.  Beside her Dick stood, hand benignly on her 
bare shoulder, impeccably attired.  Behind her she could hear rustling.  
When she turned around again to face the office a small crimson cushion 
had been placed on the far edge of the desk.
         "May I fix you a drink?" Dick asked gallantly.
         "Yes," Melanie breathed.  She felt all tingly, as if possessed by a 
delirium tremens even before taking her first sip of wine.  Dick urged her 
to a small portable bar set against the wall and poured an expensive red 
into a glass for her.  Melanie lifted the glass with both hands and supped 
from it carefully, not wishing to smudge her lipstick or stain the corners 
of her mouth with the juice of the grape.  Dick imbibed as well, and, after 
a moment, Gwendolyn.  Melanie felt a bit silly as she stood before the 
male and female, they outfitted in the latest office wear, she stark naked.
         "Come, it is time for you to sit upon my desk," Dick said finally, 
mysteriously.  Melanie walked over to the edge of the desk and, at Dick's 
urging, perched her bottom upon the satin red cushion.  "Lie back," Dick 
insisted.  Melanie made to lean back on her elbows, but was eased further 
back until her head came to rest upon the hardness of the desk.  Gwen 
lifted her head then and slipped a second small cushion beneath her crown 
to comfort her.  
         "Relax, darling," Gwen said softly.  Her fingers whispered over 
Melanie's facial cheeks.  Melanie, her eyes before intent on keeping the end 
of the desk where her bottom lay in view, now let her eyes slip to a more 
relaxed pose, gazing up at the ceiling.  Melanie felt Dick grasp one of her 
ankles and pull it sideways along the front of the desk.  Suddenly a leather 
strap was looped about it.  Melanie made to look up but Gwen eased her 
face back down, forced her to stare once more at the ceiling instead of the 
suitor at her loins.  Melanie felt her ankle secured to what she knew must 
be the forward leg of the desk.  
         Melanie's other ankle was drawn apart, leaving her legs in a wide, 
vulnerable vee.  It too was latched down, this time to the other forward 
leg of the desk.  Melanie shivered visibly.  Her legs were practically 
straight, knees just allowed the slightest buckling.  Half her bottom, the 
cushion underneath, was jutting out beyond the end of the desk.  Her pussy 
was fully displayed to all who might wish to partake of its beauty, the 
tight, furred little lips still slumbering in virginal quietude, dry and 
untouched.
         One by one Gwen unbent Melanie's arms, taking them from where she 
had lain them protectively over her breasts.  They in turn were each 
adorned with a restraining leather strap, affixing them to each of the rear 
corners of the desk.  Finally a collar was looped around Melanie's throat 
and buckled.  A leash was attached and run back over the rim of the desk to 
be tied off to a knob protruding from the desk's center drawer.
         "She is ready," Gwen said softly, easily to Dick.
         "This will hurt a bit," Dick said.  Melanie twisted her eyes downward 
as best she could and caught a glimpse of the cane being uplifted.  It was a 
sliver of green bamboo fitted into an ivory handle.  So insubstantial, yet 
wicked looking.  Could such a slender implement really cause her pain?
         Melanie winced as the first blow fell.  Right on the inside of her 
creamy thigh, leaving a burning stripe in its wake.  Again.  Melanie bucked 
soundlessly upon the desk, hips uplifting, small of her back bowing.  Why 
were they whipping her front?  Why not her bottom?  A seizure of fear 
possessed Melanie as she thought of her sweet little quim open to the fall 
of the cane.  Would they dare to whip her there?  Melanie felt just the 
slightest tinge of moisture come to her pussy.  She couldn't believe it!  Her 
pussy was being aroused by the thought of being given pain.  The next blow 
fell and Melanie let out a little cry.  Pain, mixed with an undeniable sense 
of passion.
         Some time later Melanie was sobbing loudly.  Her big breasts 
wobbled upon her straight, firm chest, above the delineation of her ribs, 
the concavity of her stomach.  The juncture of her thighs was a welter of 
painful stripes.  They had hit her pussy, Gwen even taking part in the 
punishment.  Melanie couldn't believe she was even still alive, the pain 
was so intense.  She longed to see her loins, to nurse them, to pet the once 
pretty lips and kiss them until they were better.  Suddenly she felt a wet 
kiss and the tang of lipstick upon her quim.  Gwen was kissing her there.  
Then the woman unlaced the leather bands which held her ankles fast.  
         Dick came around behind Melanie and undid her wrist straps and 
collar.  With trepidation in her eyes Melanie struggled to sit up.  Dick's 
hand at her back helped her.  She had to scoot her bottom inward to get all 
of it back upon the desk.  The cushion travelled with the spheres of her 
flesh.  Legs parted for she feared to close them, Melanie looked down.  A 
mass of red striped covered her inner thighs.  A few had even been laid on 
her tummy.   With Gwen holding her shoulders from the front to steady her, 
Melanie put her hands very tenderly to her pussy lips and looked down at 
them.  Surprisingly, they were as pretty as ever, evincing almost no signs 
of the whacks they had sustained.  Obviously Melanie had been mistaken 
about the punishment they had received.  The few strokes which had hit 
her quim had become confused with those many more which had landed on 
her inner thighs.  
         Looking down at her quim, Melanie felt a need to pee.  She voiced her 
desire and the cushion was withdrawn from underneath her bottom.  Gwen 
and Dick had Melanie scoot forward on the desk until the aperture of her 
peehole was over the floor.  Melanie was half standing, half sitting, her 
booted toes resting on the floor, heels uptilted.  "Pee into this demitasse," 
Gwen cooed.  Melanie looked up, surprised.  The woman had placed an empty 
wine glass below the juncture of Melanie's thighs.  Seeing that the woman 
was dead serious, Melanie glanced at Dick, standing off to one side.  He 
just smiled back, waiting for her to begin.
         Melanie looked down at her pussy once more.  Her long hair, mussed 
from the writhing of her head during the caning, spilled unkempt locks 
over her slim shoulders.  Melanie drew in her breath and bit her lower lip.  
She put a pair of fingers to her pussy lips and parted them.  She began to 
pee.
         Melanie walked with a distinctly awkward gait as she left Earl's 
executive suite.  Her thighs burned at the slightest contact.  Her hair was 
mussed.  Her lipstick was prettily smeared.  She wore her expensive fur 
coat pulled tight, head bowed.
         Melanie felt ashamed, yet at the same time she knew that if she did 
not leave Earl's office with a bearing similar to that with which she had 
entered, his co-workers would know something was up.  Melanie stole a 
furtive glance at Earl's private secretary as she swished by the woman, 
Gwen at her side.  Earl's secretary sat at her desk, a tongue on her lip as, 
open mouthed, she seemed to busy herself with the task of scrolling a 
sheet of paper into a typewriter.  Did Melanie catch a knowing look on the 
woman's face?  For the first time she noticed the blonde woman's full 
bosom, seemingly braless.  Had she too tasted the forbidden fruits of 
Earl's office?  Earl had not come--he had not even taken out his penis!  Had 
Melanie been a mere prelude to Earl's excitement, to be followed by a more 
romantic encounter with his secretary?  All these thoughts did nothing to 
help Melanie keep her head up.
         In the limo Gwen caught sight of a tear pearling down Melanie's 
cheek.  With a whisper of compassion Gwen wiped it away with her nail.  
"Is something troubling you, darling?" Gwen asked when the tear had been 
removed.  Melanie snuffled.
         "I thought he loved me," Melanie whimpered.
         "Who?  Earl?" Gwen asked as the limo whisked them home.  Melanie 
nodded silently, to a titter of laughter from Gwen.  "My dear, there is love 
and lust in this world, and men seem to have a monopoly on the latter," 
Gwen smiled.  This remark sent Melanie's face into her hands, and a loud 
snuffle followed.  Gwen stroked Melanie's hair, her fingers perhaps 
returning a semblance of order to the girl's lemon locks as they slipped 
between the strands.  "Earl loves you for what you are; a sprightly young 
maiden who can buck and rear beneath his crop as well as any filly he has 
trained.  I know you pleased him because he insured that you get the full 
$2,000 fee, by giving us a generous tip."  Melanie only cried more, the sobs 
coming regularly now.  The limo's driver, separated by glass, heard 
nothing.  
         "I'm glad you're crying, do you know why?" Gwen asked after a bit.  
Melanie, head still in her hands, shook her head no.  "Because it means you 
weren't really submitting to Earl for the money.  You were doing it because 
you believed in it, and him.  I like that.  It means you have class.  That's 
how I am.  I didn't tell you earlier, because I didn't think you'd understand.  
I don't whore for the money, though every girl likes money, and what it can 
buy.  I whore because I respect and trust the men who pay me.  The money 
is only a bonus."
         "I think Kimberly would do it just for the money," Melanie said, 
lifting her tear streaked face, suddenly regaining her composure, becoming 
her old self again.  
         "Now, we don't know that," Gwen replied, still running her fingertips 
through Melanie's hair.  "In any event she's too young to get into the 
business, at least in my opinion.  Some men would disagree with me, of 
course.  It will be up to you to look after her once we part.  She's more 
inclined to get into mischief than you are, I think."
         "She loves to have strings of boys wallowing in her beauty and play 
them off against one another," Melanie said.  "She feels no commitment to 
them at all."  Gwen touched the tip of her nail to Melanie's chin.  She lifted 
it.  She looked the girl in the eyes; her deep, blue, widely spaced innocent 
eyes.  
         "You must learn to check your sense of commitment, and Kimberly 
must develop hers more.  I don't think I have to tell you that you will never 
see Earl again.  Oh, you might--there's always a chance.  But he's moving 
on too, sick of the cold, down to South America to find new adventures for 
himself amongst the Latin women.  You were used by him and he enjoyed 
you.  Now put him out of your mind, even as you relish the last traces of 
him in the burning in your thighs."  Melanie looked at Gwen for a moment 
like a frozen rabbit just before it bolts.  Then she crushed herself to Gwen 
and held the woman tightly, beginning to sob once more.
         "Oh, Gwen!  I hate you and love you at the same time!" Melanie cried.  
"My life before I met you seems so trite and boring now, in fact I longed to 
change it.  Yet now, now I'm frightened of the possibilities you've opened 
up to me!"  Gwen patted the girl on the back of her head.
         "We must part too, my dear, but the world is full of friends, if you 
know how to find them.  I shall introduce you to another before you go," 
Gwen said softly. 

30

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