- NND --------------------------------------------------------- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in A Martyr to Love Chapter One He felt the whip in his hand. It was solid, hard, like the part of himself in his pants that felt as if it would burst. He drew the whip back, enjoying the heaviness of it, the taut swing of the leather as it reached its rearmost point. With a quick lifting of his hand he let the whip fly. It struck his wifeÕs bottom. She screamed. Her buttocks, already lifted high, reared higher. He saw with satisfaction the red mark his whip made on her ass, making her shake it rudely, belying the professional status she held in the Ôreal worldÕ, the world of the everyday, where she was a doctor. He was a lawyer. A tort lawyer, suing for ÒclaimsÓ made mostly by people trying to increase the size of their purse. He sued for adultery, for sexual harassment, for child molestation, whatever the fad of the times paid most for. He broke peopleÕs lives, he liked to say, and his wife mended them. Going to the bureau, he opened the top drawer. He rummaged for a cigarette as his wife recovered. The movement of her bottom slowed, the cheeks, formerly so white and delicious but now stridently pink, relaxed. And then they tightened again, feeling the awfulness of the sting renew itself in a kind of afterglow, a renewed memory of the whipÕs blow. ÒUhhhhnnn,Ó Georgina gasped. Lars found a cigarette and put it to his lips. He scanned the open drawer for a lighter. ÒYouÕre getting soft,Ó he said to his wife. ÒYou used to hold back on that first gut-wrenching scream until at least the twentieth stroke.Ó He was not even hitting her particularly hard. She had a meeting tomorrow and she had made him promise that she would be able to sit down for it. He felt a sudden impulse to hit her harder, to make her pay for her laziness in screaming so soon. They did not do this as often anymore, him tying her up and whipping her before sex. Other things had begun to intrude. He had made senior partner at the firm, lengthening his hours (something everyone had always said would never happen), she had been promoted to the head doctor in her office. He stepped back to where heÕd been standing, three feet behind her. He drew back the whip, his cock straining in his pants. He let it fly once more. She screamed marvelously, the stroke harder than sheÕd expected, the danger of her not being able to sit tomorrow suddenly pregnant in her mind. She was gorgeous as she arched before him, still just 27, a full ten years younger than he. But he was restless, bored, despite her butt-wrenching similarity to any manÕs dream version of the Playmate of the Month. Something about her being a doctor bothered him. A professional, a person with outside obligations and commitments. He wanted her all for himself, forever, with nothing to intrude between them. But it couldnÕt be. She was too valuable. Too many people depended on her. Too many people expected her to show up for work in the morning. Every morning. There were her monthly clients, her bi- monthly clients, little old ladies and young men too, whose Òproblems,Ó as far as Lars could see, were confined solely to a need to re-charge their bedroom fantasies by spending a quarter hour or so face to face with someone they usually saw just in a magazine. When he was finished hitting her, they made love, her bottom wonderfully tender as he entered her and left the best of his bodily fluids in her. After that they lay in their bed. She laid on her belly to keep her sore ass from rubbing the sheets. He laid on his back, feeling the strength of himself slip away. Her face pressed to his chest, kissing his chest hairs as if one by one. Her hand stroked between his legs, encouraging him But he felt a sort of ennui, a kind of casual disobedience in his loins. He might rise again to give her seconds but then again he might simply smoke instead, denying her. ÒDo you love me?Ó she asked in the darkness. ÒOf course I love you,Ó he replied, lifting the cigarette from his lips and exhaling. For the first time he realized he had fucked her while he smoked, giving her all of himself but at the same time somehow keeping a cigarette balanced in his mouth, as if he were not her husband but a gigolo paid once too often for this sort of thing. ÒI think you do,Ó she agreed. She kissed him again, more slowly even than before, as if worshipping his chest hairs now, as if supplicating a God. Her fingers snaked along his organ between his legs. Obediently, indolently, it began to respond. He felt it rise. She gripped it, feeling the growing largeness of it in her hand. He stiffened more. She gasped appreciatively. ÒWe must think up new games,Ó she suggested. For some reason she sounded to him like a doctor diagnosing a condition, recommending a prescription. He stood up grandly, his back still pressed to the sheets but his cock stiff and hard. ÒYes,Ó he agreed. He walked along the hall. He admired the paintings on the panelled walls. They had cost a lot, but they had their intended effect. Clients, coming to his firm for the first time, saw the paintings and assumed he and his staff must know the law very well if they could afford such fine art. In fact, the paintings had been too expensive for even his firm to buy outright. They had taken out a loan whose payments were becoming a burden. But the clients didnÕt know that. They assumed the paintings were owned, outright, like the paintings they had at home that theyÕd bought at Wallmart, or the local gallery. The paintings had their desired effect on the help, too, Lars mused, as he saw a figure dart across the hall. She was Elaine. The new girl. Long brown hair, a quick, lithe body, sumptuous tits and an ass that looked like it hadnÕt put on an ounce of weight since eighth grade. Oh, and she could type, too, although the firm had felt obliged to buy her color paste- ons for her typewriter keyboard so she could increase her speed. Red paste-ons for the primary letters, yellow paste-ons for the secondary letters. Green for the numbers. New clients mistook the girl for a high school student, a daughter of one of the partners perhaps, but Lars didnÕt mind. ÒOh Elaine,Ó Lars called out. The girl turned. ÒYes sir?Ó she asked. There was a kind of distance in her gaze. She worked for another senior partner, not Lars. There were definite rules in the firm regarding who worked for whom, especially at the senior level. Her boss was an asshole. He didnÕt want her working on anything that wasnÕt his. Lars could see in her gaze her fear, that she would be given something to do by him that her own boss would later scold her for taking on. ÒUm, coffee. When you get the chance,Ó Lars said. The girl nodded. She disappeared. Lars wanted to look into the office that sheÕd disappeared into but it was Old IronsidesÕ office, as Lars called her boss. He would sit in there all day chain-smoking cigars and belching out orders. Lars couldnÕt imagine why the girl had ever signed on with the man, but she said it was for the art they had in their firm, on the walls, and he was grateful whatever the reason, for his own secretary, while highly efficient, was going on her fortieth year in law. ÒMr. James,Ó LarÕs secretary said as he passed into his own office. ÒYes?Ó Lars asked. ÒJust between you and I, sir, although your theory of this case is highly proficient, it may perhaps not be in the best interest of your client,Ó LarÕs secretary, one Magda Rene, told him. Lars stopped by her desk. He peered down at her word processor screen. ÒAnd?Ó Lars asked. ÒIÕve made a few changes,Ó Magda replied. ÒYes. Of course,Ó Lars said. ÒThank you.Ó He turned and went beyond her desk into the secondary room that formed his office proper, with the view of the bay and the ships. Another lawyer might have frowned on MagdaÕs intrusion into his work but Lars never did. He was a lawyer without any convictions, she was a one-time law student with a felony conviction for drugs, back in the days when she was much younger. To make up for fact that her conviction precluded her ever being a lawyer, she worked twice as hard. And sheÕd been doing it for 40 years. Lars trusted her judgement. She had, in fact, as they both privately knew, made him partner with her efforts. She did the bulk of the work and he got the plaudits. It was a great arrangement, even for her, because any other lawyer might well have stomped on her independence, perhaps even firing her for it. Lars let her do what she wanted. The only problem was, she would probably die at her desk, and in the meantime the firm saw no reason to give him another secretary. Old Ironsides got the sweet college girls, like Elaine, who would work for the firm for a year or so before moving on with their lives. Lars got Magda. There was a knock on the door of his office. He looked up. He hadnÕt even noticed that heÕd closed the door behind him. ÒCome in,Ó he called, expecting Magda, with another of her ÒsuggestedÓ changes. Instead, the figure that wafted into his office was as light and young as the steam rising up from the coffee cup she held in her hands. His cup. She held it with both her hands, as if it might be some precious vessel, belonging to a God. He shook his head. His thoughts, he told himself, were becoming clouded. The girl had been nice enough, in recent days, to fetch him coffee, even though Old Ironsides, if heÕd found out, would have read her the riot act. She stepped up to his desk. She held the coffee out to him, across his desk, like some awkward child. HeÕd told her before to come around the desk, to not seem so scared of him, but sheÕd replied that it wasnÕt him she was scared of, but Old Ironsides. She had to keep her distance. She couldnÕt stay long. He reached out for the coffee, re-enacting the clumsy passing of the cup as in days past. ÒThank you, Miss Klass,Ó Lars said. ÒYouÕre welcome,Ó Elaine answered. She blushed. He looked at her, taking in the rosiness of her cheeks, her bright eyes, her perfectly shaped rosebud lips and the way her eyelashes fluttered, first letting her look at him, then blinking, avoiding him, only to boldly open again and given him the fullness of her gaze. Their eyes had stared at each other for longer than either of them realized when she said, suddenly, ÒIÕd better go.Ó ÒOh. Yes,Ó Lars agreed. He felt as if he were coming out of a daze. For a moment he had seen her not in her conservative skirt and blouse and cute little girl scout-style necktie, complete with white nylons and office-appropriate heels, but naked, with a dog collar around her neck. She blushed again. As she turned he remarked anew, as he had many times before, to her similarity to the girls he saw every day getting out of the high school, down below his window and across the street. He still wondered sometimes if she werenÕt in fact a college freshman but a high school sophomore whoÕd somehow faked her school records to get into his firm. She turned, just as he was calling himself a pervert for imagining a whip hitting her ass. ÒOh Lars,Ó Elaine said in her soft, eager voice that she had begun using whenever they were truly alone, as they were now with the office door shut. ÒYes?Ó Lars asked. He looked at the door beyond her. When had she started closing that? A day before, two? She had left it open previously but now for the past several days she had closed it, giving them a moment of their own, just the two of them, even though she still refused to come around to his side of his desk. ÒIÕll be leaving at the end of the week,Ó Elaine said. ÒNo!Ó Lars blurted. Now it was his turn to blush. HeÕd never let on to his interest in her, not really, even scolding himself for the odd erotic thought about her. But now, with the suddenness of her revelation, his Id overpowered his better judgement. She smiled, sheepishly. ÒI have to,Ó she told him. LarsÕ face fell. ÒA boyfriend?Ó he asked. ÒNo, just a great offer,Ó Elaine answered. Lars imagined a great offer heÕd made to his wife once, a getaway weekend for two. That was when theyÕd discovered the little shop in New Orleans, on Royal street, selling whips. ÒI... see,Ó Lars said. He cleared his throat. She put her hand on the doorknob to his office door, as hesitant as ever to stay and say more than a few words to him. Old Ironsides would be wanting her. ÒBut what kind of offer?Ó Lars said. He realized there was a pleading note in his voice. And, at the same time, a sense of desperation, and longing not to hear the answer he was sure she would give, if only she had the courage. ÒMy brother is going horseback riding, out West, and he said I could come,Ó Elaine said. ÒOh,Ó Lars replied. He frowned. He tried to find a boyfriend angle in her statement somewhere, but ElaineÕs words were full of their usual innocence, an artless child babbling about ponies. ÒAnd who else will be going?Ó Lars asked. Now it was ElaineÕs turn to frown. ÒJust him,Ó she said. ÒHe didnÕt want me to come but when I heard he was going to be riding horses, I begged him. I really like horses!Ó Elaine said. ÒYou do,Ó Lars said. It was a kind of leaden statement. He didnÕt own any horses but he imagined perhaps he could get some, if the girl were really into them. ÒWell, and elephants too,Ó Elaine added. ÒSomeday IÕd like to ride those big elephants in India, way up there like IÕm royalty!Ó ÒYes,Ó Lars said, becoming confused now, his daydreams mingling with her youthful aspirations in a kind of surrealistic erotic nightmare, Elaine floating before him, a coffee cup in her hand, a dog collar on her neck and a big elephant suddenly rising, taking her with him, leading her off where he might never meet her again. And whipping the elephant, driving it, was her brother, Oedipedal longings written all over his face. ÒYes of course,Ó Lars said, the woodenness of his voice providing finality to his fears, for when he looked up again he was gone, and his door was closed, and there was nothing for him to stare at but a slab of expensive wood. That night he lay in bed with his wife, as they had before, she with a burning ass and he with a cigarette in his mouth. They had actually bothered to go downstairs, down to their cellar, to their makeshift dungeon, for a formal whipping there before coming up to the bed. He had tied her to a whipping post as if she were some Medieval penitent, and he the inquisitor charged with beating heresies out of her. She had screamed even earlier this time, but he had hit her harder, not caring this time if she wouldnÕt be able to sit the next morning. ÒYou were awful,Ó she told him, kissing his chest now, as he lay smoking. ÒI am to displease,Ó he replied. ÒIÕll have to stand tomorrow and theyÕll all wonder whatÕs wrong with me,Ó she chided. ÒYes,Ó he replied. And then she asked him the question again, the question sheÕd asked on the previous night. ÒDo you love me?Ó she whispered, between kisses. ÒOf course,Ó he answered. ÒWe must think up new games,Ó she said. She kissed his chest and then licked it. He kept the magazines in his office. He kept them locked in a safe, behind a painting on his office wall. He did not know that the girl had found the key to the safe, under the ashtray on his desk, when she had stepped in one afternoon after he was gone, and lovingly straightened the papers on his desk. He didnÕt know that she had lifted up the painting one afternoon, curious, wondering if she could learn more about it, and seeing the safe behind it. He hadnÕt been there when, with trembling hands, she had taken the painting down off the wall and tried the key in the safe. She had wondered if there might be more art in there, that she could write about for a college paper she had due. Instead she found the magazines. They shocked her, at first. They were porn magazines, of people doing things sheÕd never heard of before, or only vaguely imagined, in the way children sometimes imagine things when they become excited. She stared, she became heated. She put the magazines back in the safe and hurried out of his office only to return the next day, when he was gone, and look at them once more. In addition to the magazine were letters, love letters, from his wife. At first she had told herself they might be letters about the art on the office walls, letters from curators perhaps, but when she found out they were from his wife, whom sheÕd never met, she read them anyway. It was too tempting to read a married womanÕs thoughts not to. Especially a womanÕs thoughts about a man she was becoming more and more infatuated with. She wondered, as she read the letters, what Lars wrote back, or if he wrote anything at all. In her letters Georgina reproved Lars for punishing her bottom. Her bottom! And then, seemingly in the next breath, she complimented him for it, telling him how awful it had been, but also how it had made her feel special too, being the only woman in her office with such a well-loved ass. So it was not in complete ignorance that next afternoon when Elaine met LarsÕ wife, for the first time, in his office, when she brought in his after-lunch coffee. The girl said nothing of her discovery of the magazines or the letters, of course. And Georgina, taking an immediate liking to her, saw only artless innocence. Lars did too, as he admired the way Elaine and his wife seemed to ÔclickÕ with each other. Elaine, forgetting Old Ironsides for the first time in her visits, sat down. Georgina sat also, wincing a little, bringing a secretive smile to ElaineÕs lips. The two talked. ÒSo how long have you been married?Ó Elaine asked. Georgina, for her part, asked about ElaineÕs trip. Lars coffee grew cold in his hands. He said only a little. The girls seemed, for the moment, entirely interested in each other, as if sizing each other up, but in a friendly way. At last Old Ironsides called for Elaine. The girl leaped up. She blushed and apologized. She hurried out of the office, leaving Lars alone with his wife. ÒSheÕs sweet,Ó Georgina said, turning to Lars. ÒYes,Ó Lars agreed. He lifted his coffee. He took a swallow. He made a face as he found it cold. ÒWe could include her,Ó Georgina said. ÒWhat?Ó Lars asked. ÒIn our games,Ó Georgina told him. ÒNo,Ó Lars said. ÒSheÕs only a high school girl. Well, college actually.Ó ÒThen sheÕll do just fine,Ó Georgina told him. The following Monday evening, Elaine knocked on their door. SheÕd been invited to dinner. She was no longer working for the firm and Lars felt a sense of relief as he went to the door and let her inside. ÒHello,Ó Lars said. It was raining outside. The girl looked up at him from under a the hood of a yellow rain slicker. ÒHi!Ó Elaine answered cheerily. She stepped in. Immediately Lars took her yellow slicker, drawing it off her as he kicked closed the door. There was an eagerness in his touch. ÒIs that her?Ó Georgina called from their kitchen. ÒYes,Ó Lars said. ÒIÕm here!Ó Elaine said, as if to confirm her physical presence. ÒYou certainly are,Ó Lars gasped. Gone were the girlÕs conservative office clothes. Instead she wore a cropped blouse, showing her midriff, and a skirt that most certainly could be called ÔminiÕ. The girlÕs long legs were bare, stretching down to stiletto heels. Lars studied her back and behind and sensed the presence beneath not of a bra or panties, but of swimwear, very diminutive swimwear, the kind made not for the beach but for bedroom play. Lars opened a closet. He hung up the girlÕs yellow slicker. Rain dripped off it onto the closetÕs carpet, but LarsÕ barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, on the girl. She had summarily cancelled her trip, upon being invited to his place for dinner. But, curiously, she had still quit her job at his firm, with no explanation save that she was tired of studying art. Well, Lars mused. Perhaps it was for the best. He might know her more intimately, now that she was no longer on his firmÕs payroll. Old Ironsides wouldnÕt look kindly on him fucking the help. Elaine turned to Lars as he closed the door of the closet. She beamed at him. He wondered if she sensed a new freedom between them, now that they no longer worked at the same place. For the first time ElaineÕs hair was loose. Instead of being pulled back, to show all of her face, it hung suggestively close to her eyes, as if in a kind of veil. A sexy veil, the kind used to beckon, to make a girl look more mysterious, and yet at the same time to lure a man in. ElaineÕs hair was brown, not blonde like his wifeÕs. But it had a youthful appeal that his wifeÕs, with her years of professional work, was allowing to slip away. Lars walked to the girl. The next thing he knew, they were holding hands. Lars wasnÕt sure if he had taken her hand or if she had taken his. He walked her from the foyer into the living room, her eyes still studying him, her stride matching his, though her height was much less. ÒI need to tell you a secret,Ó Elaine said to Lars. Her voice was soft. ÒYes?Ó Lars asked. ÒI wouldnÕt ever have told you but now that I no longer work for the firm, I guess I can,Ó Elaine said. She blushed, fiercely. Her eyes darted away. She covered her face with her hand. Lars put his hands on her shoulders. She felt small in his hands, like a butterfly trying to take to the wind. He gripped her tight. ÒAre you alright?Ó Lars asked. The girl nodded. ÒJust... embarrassed,Ó Elaine confessed. ÒGo ahead. Tell me,Ó Lars said encouragingly. His voice was gentle. Elaine lifted her chin. With tears in her eyes, holding back a temptation to sniffle, she blurted, ÒI looked at your magazines. And your wifeÕs letters too!Ó ÒOhhh...Ó Lars said. The word came out like a gasp, like a deflating balloon. Then, realizing suddenly the full implication of what sheÕd said, and the fact that he was holding her even at this moment, he said, ÒWell, donÕt worry about it.Ó ÒIÕve never done anything like that,Ó Elaine told him frankly. ÒLooked at magazines?Ó Lars asked. ÒNo. I mean, yes, I mean-- what was IN the magazines,Ó Elaine said. ÒAnd I wouldnÕt want to either,Ó she added, hastily, but she did not look at Lars as she spoke the last bit, as if caught in a lie of her own making and knowing it. ÒWell, here you are!Ó Georgina said brightly, coming from the kitchen. LarsÕ wife was dressed in a long skirt and blouse. The blouse had a high collar, making her look vaguely like a school marm. She wore pearls around her neck. They sloped down over her bosom. The sparkling baubles drew attention to her wonderfully prominent breasts, catching LarsÕ eye and ElaineÕs. Georgina looked at the girl and smiled. Then, drawing her close, she bent down and kissed her. Elaine was about 5Õ 4Ó, but slender, except for her magnificent tits. Georgina was 5Õ 9Ó, a modelÕs height, her breasts pushing hard into ElaineÕs as she held the girl and kissed her, slightly lifting the smaller girl off of the floor, making Elaine stand on her tip toes. Lars admired the two of them touching lips and felt himself grow turgid. Their embrace ended. They separated. ÒWell!Ó Georgina said, slightly flustered, as was Elaine, for their kiss had lasted longer than either of them expected, not just a peck on the lips but a full kiss, like lovers might make. ÒYes!Ó Elaine agreed, recovering her footing on the floor. Lars, seeing the brightness in ElaineÕs eyes, wondered if she had acceded to something. His wife looked at the girl, holding her by her arms. ÒYou are dressed more casually than at the office,Ó Georgina said. ÒYes, not so stuffily, like a librarian,Ó Elaine said. ÒThough I used to wish I could be a librarian.Ó ÒOf course, and a ballerina too, I suppose,Ó Georgina chimed. ÒHow did you know?Ó Elaine asked. ÒI know everything,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd I know that youÕre wearing a bikini under all that. Did you think we had a pool?Ó ÒNo,Ó Elaine said. Then, blushing suddenly, she said ÒYes,Ó but didnÕt look at Elaine as she corrected herself. ÒIÕm sure you did,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd in honor of your wearing your swimsuit, even though we donÕt actually have a pool, IÕm going to enforce our dinner time rule for new guests,Ó Georgina told Elaine. ÒA rule?Ó the girl asked. Her eyes were wide and artless but Lars sensed complicity in her gaze. ÒYou must eat in your swimsuit,Ó Georgina told her. ÒSo we may admire you. ItÕs nice and warm. You wonÕt have to worry about getting cold.Ó She turned to Lars. ÒTurn up the heat, dear,Ó she told her husband. ÒI... of course,Ó Lars said, as bewildered now as Elaine was, and walking awkwardly as he turned and went to the closest thermostat. ÒOh but I donÕt think,Ó Elaine protested. ÒI donÕt care what you think,Ó Georgina said in a loving tone. ÒYouÕll eat in your swimsuit. Now take off these clothes. IÕll give you hangers for them.Ó To LarsÕ surprise, with only a quick glance at him, the girl began disrobing. He sensed an eagerness in her movements, as of a taut string finally allowed to ease, each piece of clothing, of which there were very few, representing some repressed part of herself that she was now finally giving herself permission to jettison. In no time her cropped blouse, her miniskirt and a chiffon neckerchief, the color of the slicker sheÕd been wearing, were folded neatly on a chair. Georgina brought some hangers. Together they put the clothes on the hanger and Georgina took them to the hall closet where Lars had hung the girlÕs rain slicker. Meanwhile, Lars was spellbound. He watched steadily, forgetting all about the thermostat, gazing raptly at the girl as she exposed her underthings. The bikini she wore was unfit for any beach. It barely contained her breasts, the tiny cups being either designed for a woman with no tits or, in ElaineÕs case, to cover only her nipples. These were hard, sticking out in seeking perfection, like twin cherry stems looking for babes to feed. As a result the little cups, already straining to cover the tips of her breasts, were pushed into points, further reducing the amount of flesh they covered. Meanwhile, some distance from her twin breasts, down below her flat soft childÕs belly, her pubic hair was contained by a small transverse of cloth. To say that it cupped her pussy was to exaggerate; it covered part of her pubic bush, not all. Beneath the triangle of her bush it narrowed to pencil-thinness, disappearing up between the lips of her cunt. Georgina gazed with approval at the girl. She gathered her things. Unselfconsciously Elaine helped Georgina take her clothes to the closet. The new view Elaine presented, when she turned with her clothes in her arms and showed Lars her ass, was astounding. There was only a small panty portion, cupping her bottom as if after a thousand trips through some drier. Most of her bottom crack showed, as did her cheeks, with only the lowermost portion, where her bottom curved under and met her legs, feeling the embrace of her panties. Together Georgina and Elaine put her things in the closet. Then they regarded each other again and then, turning, they both looked at Lars. ÒHi,Ó Elaine said, blushing anew. Lars wondered where such an innocent looking girl could find such a sexy swimsuit. ÒHi,Ó Lars stammered. He reached for the wall thermostat. Georgina smiled. ÒI think Elaine has something sheÕd like to tell you,Ó Georgina said. ÒShe told me over the phone, this weekend, and thatÕs why we decided on her wearing a swimsuit.Ó ÒOh, so youÕre in on this too?Ó Lars asked. He adjusted the thermostat, blindly, not looking at it, just feeling the notches and adjusting the dial to match. ÒYes,Ó Elaine said. There was an odd exuberance in her voice. She grinned, blushed. ÒIÕm a virgin,Ó Elaine said. ÒAnd IÕve chosen tonight to lose it.Ó Lars had trouble eating. Elaine ate with gusto mixed with a kind of anxiousness, like a child eager to go the fair but at the same time worried the roller coaster might make her lose her dinner. Lars marvelled at the girlÕs demeanor. As she explained at dinner to him, and had over the phone to his wife, she had saved herself for just the right man. And, for whatever reason, sheÕd chosen Lars. When sheÕd learned that Georgina wouldnÕt object, her enthusiasm to Ôdo itÕ doubled. And so now here she was, confident in her little bikini, proud of the way her every move entranced Lars and grateful to Georgina for letting her plan go through. ÒI liked you the first day I met you,Ó Elaine told Lars, between mouthfuls of spaghetti. Lars liked watching the way she twirled the spaghetti on her fork, and sucked it up. ÒBut I was sure you were married, since you were older,Ó Elaine said. ÒSo I hid my feelings, even from myself. I tried not to like you. But the more I tried, the worse it got. Then my dumb brother asked me to go riding and I thought, perfect! I told myself I loved horses, even though I only really liked them. But it would give me a chance to try to put you out of my mind. I even quit the firm, which IÕm still doing, since IÕm going to major in communications now instead of art.Ó She smiled at Lars. Her smile turned to a renewed blush and she dropped her fork. ÒOh, what am I doing?Ó she said. ÒI know youÕll hate me tomorrow if I give myself to you but I want you Lars, I really do!Ó She made to get up from the table. ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said in a stern voice. ÒI didnÕt give you permission to get up from the table.Ó Elaine sank back down in her chair. ÒYes maÕam,Ó Elaine answered. ÒAnd donÕt feel embarrassed about your bikini,Ó Georgina added. ÒI insisted you wear it.Ó ÒYes, but only after I told you how much I loved your husband,Ó Elaine countered. Georgina, not missing a beat, twirling her own spaghetti on her plate, replied, ÒIn fact, as I recall, I ordered you to wear it, did I not?Ó Georgina said. ÒYou sewed it a year ago yourself for the man of your dreams, and I told you that you absolutely must wear it. So there. And there is something else we must settle, young lady. As for your confession over the phone to me this weekend, reading my letters, and looking at my husbandÕs magazines. This is conduct that I cannot permit to go unrewarded, as they say in places of penal correction.Ó ÒOh but I--Ó Elaine interjected. ÒI was a young curious girl once too,Ó Georgina said. ÒWe play at being coy and prim and proper but we do have our wild side, donÕt we? In your case you waited until you were an intern at a prestigious law firm to explore the darker side, the side found in menÕs magazines and such. Most girls find out about such things at 12, donÕcha know. ItÕs called going to the 7/11 and looking at Leonardo and then noticing all the girlie magazines stacked on the high shelf above Leo and all his buddies.Ó Elaine blushed. ÒI never grabbed any of those,Ó Elaine said. There was a clearness in her gaze, a frankness. ÒI-- I was a little spoiled Bible girl... until last year when I met a guy and he taught me about New Age things,Ó Elaine said. ÒAnd you didnÕt?Ó Lars asked. Elaine blushed fiercely. ÒNO, I didnÕt,Ó Elaine said. ÒI may be small but I decide things for myself. He was a great kisser but not someone I wanted in my panties.Ó ÒActually you take your panties off for--Ó Lars began. ÒWeÕve talked,Ó Georgina told her husband. ÒShe learned a lot this weekend, over the phone, didnÕt you dear?Ó ÒYes,Ó Elaine said, her face becoming now a perpetual blush. ÒI still donÕt like those magazines,Ó Elaine told Lars. ÒAll the other parts of you I like but your magazines are DIS-gusting!Ó She began eating her spaghetti again. Lars marvelled at her childish nature and wondered if, in fact, she really knew what she was getting herself into, even at 19. He began to wonder if she somehow thought that sitting there in a very skimpy bikini was intercourse, the way she seemed so breezy and at the same time so abashed. What a great tragedy it would be if, after eating all her dinner, the girl got up and thanked him for deflowering her and left! ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said, after a few minutes of blushing silence had passed. ÒYes?Ó the girl asked meekly. Her plate was almost empty now and she seemed to be eating more slowly. ÒAs for your punishment,Ó Georgina said. ÒMy--?Ó Elaine asked. ÒFor reading my letters and my husbandÕs magazines,Ó Georgina said. ÒYessss?Ó Elaine asked anxiously, her breath escaping her lips in a gasp. ÒIt will be over my husbandÕs knee.Ó ÒA SPANKING?!Ó Elaine asked. Alarm showed in her face. ÒYes,Ó Georgina said. ÒBut-- IÕve NEVER been spanked!Ó Elaine insisted. ÒYour parents were too lenient,Ó Georgina said. And suddenly it all came together for Lars, what the girl had in mind, what she intended. SheÕd dreamed of a spanking and never gotten it, and he was supposed to give her one. God knows, perhaps the spanking itself was what she regarded, in some strange little girl way, as intercourse. Or perhaps she had no idea what Ôlosing itÕ meant, and expected him to do something like turn a secret knob in her body, or push a secret lever. Lars sighed. Somehow this girl, this naive innocent child, had gotten mixed up with himself and his wife, Ôdenizens of the dungeonÕ as they liked to call themselves, in their nightly trysts. It was not the most appropriate match. She needed a phallic version of Barney, and she was getting something much worse. For Lars knew, once their little game began, in earnest and not just as conversation at the table, that he wouldnÕt be able to stop with a spanking. HeÕd want to see her whipped, collared, defiled, down in the cellar where he played with his wife. And sheÕd even, in her foolish eagerness to find out about her body (albeit a few years later than she should have) cancelled her job with his firm. Given a little leeway, depending on her living arrangements, he might be able to keep her for days. Perhaps no one would miss her. HadnÕt she said she lived in a dorm, with friends? They might be too busy to notice the shy little girl who had slipped off on a Monday night. Surely with the body she had boys would be longing for her, but given that sheÕd never let them have her, they wouldnÕt hold out much hope. Lars sighed. Her friends, to the extent that they didnÕt just regard her as a prim little (well-stacked) wallflower, might think sheÕd gone off to a convent. Instead she was with him. ÒI really would prefer not to be spanked,Ó Elaine said. ÒI mean, perhaps I might need my wrist slapped or something, but to show my BOTTOM? CanÕt your husband just Ôdo meÕ and slap my wrist, and then weÕll say weÕre even? IÕm sorry I read your letters. ItÕs just... youÕre married to him, and I really do have a major crush on him. The letters and the magazines were an irresistible 411. I just couldnÕt help myself!Ó ÒWell I am going to help myself,Ó Georgina said. ÒTo your bottom. But first we must have dessert. Would you like cherry or apple pie?Ó ÒCherry,Ó Elaine said. Then she frowned and said, ÒNo, apple.Ó ÒWhichever,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd you, Lars?Ó ÒUh, cherryÕs fine,Ó Lars answered. Georgina smiled. ÒIÕm sure it is,Ó she said. She got up from the table. Elaine, perhaps due to good training from her mother, got up from the table also. Lars watched the girlÕs breasts as she leaped up. They wiggled, nearly spilling from her small brassiere, the tiny cups somehow miraculously holding her nipples under the fabric. ÒWhere are you going?Ó Georgina asked the girl. ÒIÕm going to help you take the dishes to the kitchen,Ó Elaine said. ÒAlright,Ó Georgina answered. LarsÕ eyes followed the girlÕs every move as she picked up the plates. Her titties jiggled, her ass moved like a greased ball. Proudly Elaine carried the plates, the confident jut of her bosom rising and falling above the dishes she carried. Her ass had an easy sway to it. With each movement of her bottom Lars prayed that the pantied triangle half-covering her behind would slip into her ass crack. But, like the bra holding her bosoms, the panties were tied with a nunÕs tightness. The fabric was simply pulled too taut for her breasts to escape, or for her ass to show more of itself than it already was. Despite her eagerness to Ôlose itÕ, as Elaine proclaimed, she seemed unnervingly chaste. Lars sighed. The girl was a sight to behold but she was, at the same time, a painful tease. He could feel himself swelling in his pants and yet he wondered if he would get what he wanted this evening. And what did he want? an inner voice asked. Lars fought back the voice of his conscience. He wanted to fuck this girl, this tender flower, and much more. Yet it would not happen without the consent of his wife. At least not tonight it wouldnÕt. And LarsÕ wife was being a flirt in her own right, prolonging their dinner with mindless chatter, insisting upon dessert. Lars wondered, with a sinking feeling, if Georgina might not be using the girl simply to make him hot. Then, when she had him mindlessly stiff, she might put Elaine back into her clothes and her yellow rain slicker, and dismiss her into the night. ÒHereÕs your pie, sir,Ó Elaine called out to Lars. Lars turned. The girl was returning from the kitchen. Above a warm slice of pie, carried on a fine china plate, the girlÕs breasts hovered. Her bra still clasped her, denying Lars a view of her nipples, teasing him with the fullness of her naked tit flesh and yet keeping from his view her lovely red tips. The girl placed the pie before Lars. He smelled cherries. As he looked at the pie he considered ripping her bra off, Elaine was so deliciously and unnervingly close. But then he heard his wife coming out from the kitchen. ÒElaine, would you like whipped cream on your pie?Ó Georgina called. ÒYes, please,Ó Elaine answered. ÒAlright,Ó Georgina said. She approached the table, deftly balancing both her pie and ElaineÕs in her hands, a can of Redi-Wip under her arm. Elaine went to her own place at the table. She slipped her hands across her behind, as if to smooth her skirt before sitting down. Then she blushed, realizing she wasnÕt wearing a skirt, but only a pair of very brief swim panties. She sat down. Georgina placed her pie before her. Elaine smiled. Her eyes widened as Georgina shook the whipped cream and aimed it and squirted it all over ElaineÕs slice of pie. Lars, watching, felt an urgent need in his pants. If only he could squirt himself like the can did. He swallowed, hard. Elaine, taking a fork primly in her hand, began to eat. ÒYum! ItÕs good!Ó Elaine declared, chewing and swallowing her pie. ÒThatÕs nice,Ó Georgina said. She sat down at her own place and, after applying the Redi-Wip to her pie, she began to eat. She looked at her husband. ÒLars,Ó she said. ÒYou havenÕt touched yours.Ó Lars cleared his throat. He had been staring at Elaine, watching the bounce and sway of her breasts as she brought forkfuls of pie, dripping with whipped cream, to her mouth. ÒOh. Yeah,Ó Lars said. He began to eat. His erection was killing him. More and more he began to suspect that this whole thing was a charade, something designed by his wife. Perhaps the ever-virginal Elaine had never looked at his magazines, but had only been told to say that, by his wife. Perhaps she had no intention of Ôlosing itÕ, as she said, but was only being asked by his wife to say it, in order to incite Lars. Well, he was incited all right. He was about to tear the clothes off both women and fuck out their brains. But he couldnÕt, not with his wife being a doctor. He would never sleep peacefully if he truly pissed off his wife. She knew surgery. HeÕd risk waking up without his balls if he made her angry. And so Lars sweated, there at the dinner table, sensing his wife was secretly laughing at him as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. As for Elaine, she was childishly oblivious to the effect she was having on him. She even asked for seconds, and Georgina, infuriatingly for Lars, brought the girl more pie, squirting it again with whipped cream and making Lars nearly sperm in his pants. Desperately he watched little Elaine, eating her pie, make her mouth all ringed with white gooey cream. ÒWell, that was a pleasant dessert,Ó Georgina announced when they had finished. Elaine smiled. Then her face, as she wiped her mouth, took on a worried look. ÒMust I be spanked now?Ó Elaine asked Georgina. ÒYes,Ó Lars wife answered. ÒBut first we must decide where it will be done. Will it be here, at the dinner table, or upstairs in our bedroom? Or downstairs in the basement?Ó She cast Lars a knowing glance. ÒWhatever will get it over with quickest,Ó Elaine said. ÒOh, are you in a hurry?Ó Georgina said to the girl. ÒNo-- I mean, yes, I--Ó Elaine looked confused. Georgina brushed back her blonde hair. It was pinned in a bun but several loose strands had fallen close to her eyes as she ate her pie. She looked at the girl. Concern showed on her face. ÒWell, you have never been spanked,Ó Georgina said to Elaine. ÒSo I must tell you a little about it. A quick spanking would be very hard on your bottom, especially for a novice. But a long, slow spanking, with the spanks spaced out over several hours, would be easier to bear, although it would take longer. Your behind would have time to recover between the blows, you see? It is early yet. You could have a long spanking and it would not matter, you would still get home at a decent hour.Ó ÒOh.Ó Elaine said. She put a finger to her long brown hair, her hair that she wore loose and free, and twirled it, much as she had twirled the spaghetti around her fork. ÒBut if she is to Ôlose itÕ?Ó Lars asked. His voice was strained, hesitant yet urgent, his dick killing him in his pants. ÒIf she is to lose it she must stay the night,Ó Georgina agreed. ÒOh!Ó Elaine said again, this exclamation bursting from her with a childÕs distress, as if being told for the first time that Santa was just her father, not a real man at the North Pole.Ó Gently Georgina asked, ÒCan you spend the night?Ó ElaineÕs eyes grew wide. ÒI- I suppose so, if it is absolutely necessary,Ó she said. Georgina smiled. ÒThen we have plenty of time for your spanking,Ó Georgina said. ÒCome here. I want to see how pretty you look in your little panties before we have to take them off.Ó With a nervous step, Elaine walked round the front of the dinner table, past Lars at the head of the table, to Georgina. The woman pushed back her chair. Lars did also, and watched as Georgina took hold of the girl round her hips. She seemed to weigh the girl, grasping her naked hips and judging her, then she slipped her hands lower to where ElaineÕs swim panties rode. Slowly she undid the ties of the girlÕs panties. Elaine, staring down over her breasts, watched. The ties came undone. From behind, Lars saw the swim panties sag. The small triangle of nylon covering the lowest part of ElaineÕs bottom gave way. The taut flesh was exposed. It was smooth and round like a ball. Like twin balls, jammed together as ElaineÕs bottom tensed. ÒYes,Ó Georgina said, revealing the lowermost part of the girlÕs neat bush in front. ÒYou can see my pussy,Ó Elaine commented. ÒIt is a very sweet little delta,Ó Georgina agreed. ÒI never showed myself like this before,Ó Elaine sighed. Her breath was hot against GeorginaÕs face. The woman looked up. Simultaneously she drew ElaineÕs panties out from between her thighs. She folded them. She slipped them into her blouse, tucking them into her bra. ÒWhy did you do that?Ó Elaine asked. ÒBecause I donÕt want you wearing them any more tonight,Ó Georgina said. ÒNow let me turn you around, so i can see your ass.Ó Primly, Elaine turned. GeorginaÕs eyes fell to the girlÕs ass while Lars, for the first time, was able to view her mons. ÒOh it is so nice and white. And dimpled!Ó Georgina remarked. Elaine tensed as the woman put a finger to the cheeks of her ass, feeling the dimples. Meanwhile Lars had a mouth-watering view of the girlÕs bush. He wanted to jam himself in there, splitting her legs and her nether lips, forcing himself up her and making her take him all the way to the root of himself. GeorginaÕs eyes looked past the girl at her husband. They exchanged glances. Lars felt a sudden sense of relief, combined with a newfound tension, as he realized his wife would let him have the girl after all. In fact, she wanted her downstairs, the same as he did. ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said, stroking the girlÕs bottom now, feeling its rondure, making Elaine quiver and tense herself more, ÒMy husband and I have some things in the basement. Like you saw in the magazines. We would like to show them to you but we donÕt wish to frighten you. Would you like to come downstairs?Ó Elaine shivered. She felt the womanÕs hands cup her cheeks. To her heartbeating surprise, she felt LarÕs wife pull her behind open, as if gently splitting a peach. ÒOh! But what about my spanking?Ó Elaine asked. Then, a moment later, she blurted, ÒYou are making me feel air in my ass crack!Ó ÒYes, you have a very lovely ass,Ó LarsÕ wife replied. She fought the squeezing of the girlÕs hinds as Elaine tried to draw herself back together. ÒRelax, dear,Ó Georgina said. ÒHave you ever had anything put up you back here?Ó ÒIn my BOTTOM?Ó Elaine gasped. ÒNo!Ó she shouted. Her voice was anxiously high in pitch, like a little girl slipping and falling down on her ass. ÒYes, in your little fanny,Ó Georgina laughed. She released the girlÕs cheeks. They sprang together, the twin halves pressing close, like lovers kissing. ÒWell, we shall discuss such things later,Ó Georgina said. ÒCome downstairs with myself and my husband. And please donÕt be scared. We only wish to show you some things, thatÕs all.Ó Georgina rose from her chair. She took ElaineÕs hand. The brunette looked up at her with large, wide eyes, still wearing her teensy bra, her pubis bared to LarsÕ view. Together they walked past the man. He jumped up and followed. Elaine looked over her shoulder. She saw Lars and where he was looking. Not at his wife, or even into ElaineÕs eyes, but right at her naked behind, wiggling and swaying and shaking tensely as she walked. ÒOh! Your husband is looking at me!Ó Elaine told Georgina. ÒHe will be spanking you soon,Ó Georgina replied. She squeezed the girlÕs hand, as if fearing she might escape. ÒOh but I thought you would do it!Ó Elaine quailed. ÒHereÕs the door, just around this corner,Ó Georgina replied, drawing Elaine out of the dining room and into the hall. Lars followed, Elaine giving him another look, a rabbit fleeing the fox. Georgina opened the door to the basement. She drew Elaine with her onto the topmost step. She turned on a light. With exaggerated curiosity, Elaine craned her neck and looked down the stairs. ÒOh. So you do wish to see,Ó Georgina said to the girl. ÒNo! I just--Ó Elaine answered. Georgina pulled her down the stairs, the girl following in her stiletto heels, taking the stairs carefully but with a spring to her step, a kind of watchful eagerness. Georgina wore modest heels, reminiscent of the common-sense heels that women wear to work. Together, with Lars coming down the stairs behind them, the two women reached the cellar. A gasp arose from ElaineÕs lips. She gazed at a panoply of dark-covered objects. She could not make out what the things were, but the blackness of the sheets covering them were ominous. ÒShall we have a look?Ó Georgina asked the girl. She held her hand tightly. ÒOh. Alright,Ó Elaine said. Lars reached the base of the stairs. The two women regarded him. ÒAnd shall you have a look too, sir?Ó Georgina said to her husband. ÒI suppose so,Ó Lars answered. He tried not to grin too hard. ÒOh my!Ó Elaine breathed, when Georgina, walking up to the first object, pulled off its shroud. Beneath was a cage. It was too small to stand up in, rising just to ElaineÕs waist. It had a bowl in it, and a blanket covered its floor. ÒIs this a dog cage?Ó Elaine asked. ÒIt could be used that way,Ó Georgina smiled. ÒWould you care to try it?Ó ÒTry it?Ó Elaine gasped. ÒBut IÕm not a doggie.Ó Georgina bent down and pulled open the latch on the cage. A lock hung nearby, on a cross-beam stretching across the bars. ÒGet in,Ó Georgina said to Elaine. ÒBut I--Ó Elaine cried. ÒIN!Ó Georgina said. She took hold of the girl by her shoulders. She forced her down to her knees. Elaine resisted, but only with half her strength. When she was on her knees, her lovely ass sticking up in the air, she looked into the cage. ÒOooo, itÕs almost like a small cage that dogs sit in to ride on an airplane,Ó Elaine remarked. ÒBut a little bigger. Just big enough for me, I think.Ó She crawled forward. She went into the cage, like a mouse exploring. Georgina closed the cage door behind her. She took the lock off the cross-bar and put it into the latch on the door. She turned to her husband. ÒYou have a key for this?Ó she asked. ÒSure,Ó Lars answered. ÒI keep it on my key ring, with all my other keys. Car, house, office...Ó ÒGood,Ó Georgina said. She snapped shut the lock. ÒOooooh! DonÕt lock me in!Ó Elaine walked. She turned around in the small crawl-space of the cage. She put her face to the bars. She gripped them with her hands. ÒYou will remain there until itÕs time for your spanking,Ó Georgina informed the girl. ÒAnd, in the meantime, youÕll learn from watching my husband and I.Ó She turned to Lars. ÒYour penis, sir. Take it out. I have need of it.Ó 30 --------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------ ----- Back issues (and stories): http://www.deja.com/ Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net DonÕt forget to click on ÒPower SearchÓ. Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive. ----- Other providers: Eli the Bearded: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ ArtÕs Erotic Stories and Photos: http://www.eroticstories.com AnyaÕs LilÕ Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/ Silver: http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- 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 2000 by Andrew Roller. Naughty Naked Dreamgirls and NND are trademarks of Andrew Roller. All rights reserved. ----- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html -----END OF story EMISSION