---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PARTY PUSSIES
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Seven
It was soon after that we stepped out into the night air. I had heard
Petra speak of us going into her living room. Now, however, we were being
taken outdoors instead, into the dark of the night. The moon was set. The
trees swayed above us, close to the house, like Shades rising from Hell. I
felt frightened. I heard an owl hoot and hoped it didnÕt mistake me for a
mouse as it went looking for prey. My feet were bare, pressing into the
soft, cold earth. I was glad for my long hair. It offered my body a little
protection from the chilly night air. My nipples burned, warmly. The men,
their cocks already cooled by the ÒNatural Ice,Ó must have felt worse off,
I guessed, as their genitals felt the night breeze blow against them. I held
GingerÕs hand. Behind me, Bethany and Bow held hands. The servants
followed, deferentially, Petra led the way.
We walked round to the side of the house. Petra stopped before a
pair of shuttered wooden doors, built into the earth. She bent down. She
held a key in her hand, plus the whip from the bathroom. She undid an iron
latch that kept the shuttered doors locked. Her hair fell about her
shoulders and breasts as she unlocked it, making her look quite dainty,
though I watched her with my hands clapped to my bottom, fearing the
worst. When the latch was undone, Petra raised one of the doors. It
creaked loudly as she raised it. I hoped there were no neighbors living
nearby, who might turn on a light and see us.
When the door had been drawn back, Petra beckoned to me. I
approached her, nervously, my hands still firmly placed on my bottom.
Tom laughed as I passed him, knowing what I was thinking.
ÒWho has the flashlight?Ó Petra asked.
ÒBethany,Ó I answered. I felt a little relieved to find that sheÕd only
wanted something to see by. We had some starlight, but now the shuttered
door, drawn back, exposed only an inky black hole in the earth.
ÒBethany, turn on your flashlight!Ó Petra said.
ÒBut somebody might see me!Ó Bethany squeaked.
ÒNever mind, Bethany. NobodyÕs here except us. Turn it on, no one
will see your nude little body. LisaÕs going to lead us downstairs.Ó
ÒNo, IÕm not!Ó I replied. For all I knew there were rats down there,
hordes of them, and spiders and snakes.
ÒTsk, dear. Holes are what this night is all about, donÕcha know,Ó
Petra replied. ÒDonÕt make me whip you.Ó
I saw her meaning. We would be fucked down there, apparently, by
the men with their big iced penises. I let myself be given the flashlight.
ÒGo forth, adventurer!Ó Petra told me, sounding rather like John Luc
Picard, except she gave my bottom a slap, which John Luc would never
have done. With a small yelp I let myself be made leader, and stepped into
the hole.
My foot touched raw wood. I worried I might step on a splinter. But
I shone the beam of the flashlight into the cellar and made my way down.
Stairs creaked under my weight. I went lower, lower, the others watching
as first my hips, then my chest, and finally my head disappeared into the
storm cellar. For a moment I worried that Petra might slam the door shut
above me, trapping me, making me a true love slave. But then I heard her
tell Bethany to go next, and knew she at least would share whatever fate
awaited me.
ÒOoooh, itÕs spooky,Ó I heard Bethany say on the stairs above me. Her
feet made the steps creak, as mine had. I heard little Bow ordered in next
by Petra, and she seemed as eager as Bethany to go exploring, though
Ginger, told to go next, protested.
ÒEeeek!Ó I cried.
ÒWaht is it?Ó Bethany gasped, behind me.
ÒItÕs -- itÕs a spider web!Ó I said. IÕd felt it brush my nude breast
and now I pushed it away, cringing from it.
ÒEEEEEEEEEK!Ó Bethany shouted. She ran back up the stairs, turning
Bow around too, but a crack of PetraÕs whip, over their heads, stopped
them in their tracks.
ÒDOWN, girls!Ó Petra ordered. ÒYou too, Ginger. Off you go, girl.
Down into the cellar.Ó
ÒOh, this is so awful!Ó Ginger whined.
I heard Tom laugh. ÒI donÕt mind holes, do you, Robin?Ó he asked.
ÒNot in the least. My dickÕs always ready to go into a hole,Ó Robin
answered. Stupid men. They didnÕt understand that girls didnÕt like things
like this, exploring dank cellars, especially in the nude, on dark nights,
when there wasnÕt even any moon out. We should be asleep in our beds, not
down here, all naked, cold (though it was warmer, I had to admit, in the
cellar), and shivering.
I felt earth below my feet and realized IÕd reached the cellarÕs
bottom. I passed the beam of my flashlight out into the darkness. I
gasped. I thought it fell upon a gynecological table and then, sweeping on,
a cage, and a rack, where one might be strung up and tortured. This was
noplace for me, or Bethany, or little Bow!
ÒWhoa, this is like Dungeons and Dragons,Ó I heard Tom announce
from the top of the stairs.
ÒA dragonÕs going to eat your penis if you donÕt quit banging it into
the back of my head,Ó Ginger answered. She sounded peeved, upset. I could
hardly blame her. I wanted as little of this as she did. But Bethany and
Bow, little eagle scouts both, (though in truth both were too young to
join), slipped past me and wandered out into the room.
ÒI sometimes play down here. ThereÕs lots of neat stuff down here,Ó
Bow told Bethany.
ÒDo you ever torture boys down here?Ó Bethany asked.
ÒSometimes,Ó Bow answered. I saw they were holding hands again,
now that they were off the stairs, and past me. I still stood at the base of
the stairs, hesitant to go beyond their relative safety.
ÒGirls,Ó I called. ÒDonÕt go out there. ItÕs not safe!Ó
ÒAnd do you cut off their penises?Ó Bethany asked, oblivious to my
warning.
Bow laughed. She gave no answer, but drew Bethany farther still
into the roomÕs darkness.
ÒGirls!Ó I called again. I felt slim fingers clasp my shoulders. I
yelped. There was a kiss at my neck. Ginger!
ÒHi,Ó she whispered. Her hips touched warmly to my bottom. ÒYou
go first,Ó she said. ÒIÕll follow.Ó
ÒOh, thanks,Ó I said. ÒIf thereÕs something sticking out into this
darkness, it will poke my belly, not yours.Ó
ÒThatÕs right,Ó Ginger agreed. She giggled. I think she was enjoying
her fright, now. Then she let out a yelp, as Tom, with his big prong,
stepped up behind her.
ÒForward, ho!Ó Tom announced. I felt myself impelled forward.
There was nothing I could do except be leader, with little Bow, smallest
of all, leading all of us to our doom.
As we padded into the room, all of us barefoot, save for the
servants, we came to a wall of bars. The flashlight beam could pierce
through them, but we could not, for they were bars just like those in a jail
cell. Even little Bow, curious as she was, couldnÕt get past them.
ÒWhen I was littler I could squeeze between them,Ó Bow confided to
Bethany, trying to get between the bars, but not quite able to, because,
apparently, her head and her pert bottom had gotten a bit too big. She
relented, drew back from them. Petra, guided by my light, advanced past
me. She still held her key, plus her whip. She told me to aim my light a
certain way, I did. I saw a keyhole revealed, in a metal plate, along one of
the bars. Petra slipped her key in and twisted it.
Silently, a portion of the bars swung open. A door! The barred door,
looking just the same as the wall it was a part of, opened outward to
admit us. Bow slipped in first, then Bethany. I followed, Ginger behind
me, then Tom and Robin. The servants entered and Petra came last.
Earlier IÕd heard her shut and bolt the door that had admitted us to the
storm cellar. Now, closing us within the cell, she locked that door with
her key.
Somebody flipped a switch. Perhaps it was one of the servants.
Suddenly the room was illuminated. Within the larger cellar, we were in a
barred cell. It was quite large, though, and included all the awful
equipment my flashlight had earlier fallen upon. We all gasped, seeing our
surroundings. Even Bow, apparently familiar with this place, emitted a
small gasp, as all its awful devices were suddenly revealed.
Just as I was ready to bolt, however I might, from this cage, I saw a
pleasant living room in its middle. It was just living room furniture,
actually, but it looked safe and pedestrian compared to the items of
torture all around us.
ÒYes, this is my party room,Ó Petra said. ÒWeÕll sit first and enjoy
ourselves a bit before we get started seeing what agonies we can put each
other through. Take your seats, everyone! None with their lover, though,
for that would indeed be a waste of opportunities,Ó she added, with a
glance at myself and Ginger.
The furniture was covered in vinyl. I worried that others might have
sat upon it, before me, spending themselves here, but it looked freshly
washed. So, casting my cares aside (as best I could, given my
surroundings), I plopped my bottom down onto a sofa. It sat facing another
sofa. Clearly we were meant to see each otherÕs nudity as we sat here,
even right between each otherÕs legs. I kept mine open, knowing I might be
scolded if I tried to block an intimate view of myself. Tom sat down
beside me. With his hard penis, he had no choice but to expose himself. It
stuck up like a flagpole and I wished dearly to simply sit atop it, getting
all this over with, but I knew IÕd feel PetraÕs whip on my backside if I did.
(That I might, in any event, feel her whip, did not, however, inspire me to
break what I knew were her rules of conduct.)
ÒNo touching, Bethany,Ó Petra warned, even as I speculated as to
what I myself might get away with. Bethany sat down next to Tom and
appeared to wish to yank on his tool. Bow, I guessed, had inspired her.
The girl was only eight but she seemed eager to see what a manÕs penis
could do. She peered past Bethany, seated beside her on the same couch as
I, gazing at TomÕs penis and urging Bethany to take hold of it. ÒBe good,
Bow,Ó Petra warned. ÒYouÕll do just as I say, and no more. I intend for you
to leave here tonight with all your parts intact. And that includes your
itchy little hymen.Ó
ÒOooh, I want his big thing to go right up me, just like it does to
you!Ó Bow replied. She placed a hand on her pussy and seemed to insert
one of her fingers into herself.
ÒNo, Bow!Ó Petra replied. ÒWe donÕt even know if Tom will fuck me.
And he certainly wonÕt be fucking you, little girl. My God, do you think IÕm
that wicked? Sit still. I should dismiss you right now, but I want you to
get at least a little education. IÕve heard youÕve been bringing boys down
here, and making them drop their pants for you.Ó
ÒJust Freddie,Ó Bow replied. ÒAnd Billie,Ó she added.
ÒI should never have let you know about my parties,Ó Petra said.
ÒYou didnÕt. I sneaked into the first one. Remember?Ó Bow asked.
ÒYes. I know. I thought you were safely in bed, and then you came
streaking naked, right through the dining room, when I was up on the table
being threaded by two men at once.Ó Petra looked at me. ÒIt was her first
orgy. Age six,Ó she said.
ÒI got to squirt whipped cream on EVERYBODY!Ó Bow said happily to
Bethany.
ÒI even had whipped cream on the ceiling,Ó Petra said, to no one in
particular, for IÕd frowned at her when sheÕd told me sheÕd let Bow see an
orgy. Yet tonight, would she see anything less? I wondered. I knew not
what awaited us down here.
I gazed across the rug at Robin. This portion of the room was
carpeted, where the twin couches sat, though elsewhere the cellar was
cement-floored, or even hardpacked earth. He gazed back at me. There
might have been a coffee table between us, but it had been omitted,
perhaps for fear that our sexes, so freely on view, might be less easily
seen. Side tables served for the placement of decorations and
refreshments. The servants did not come down with us empty-handed.
Verona brought with her a big ice bucket, made from silver, laden with
fresh ice from the kitchen. Within it, sticking up straight and tall, was a
bottle of champagne. The men, armed with machetes, which they still
carried, had cut flowers as we walked through the yard to the cellar door.
Now Verona, setting down her big heavy ice bucket on a side table beside
our couch, took the flowers from the men and placed them in vases on the
table. Already the fragrance of the flowers was noticeable in the room.
Roses, pink and yellow, daffodils, a spray of daisies. As she placed the
flowers the Mexican men squatted down onto the rug, at its very edge, as
if not permitted to enter any further into our nude sanctuary. One of them
took an oiled cloth out of his back pocket and absently began polishing his
big machete. Robin and Tom, with their stemming cocks, glanced at the
MexicanÕs mensÕ knives. It was obvious that the two Mexicans, though
smaller than our loves, and hardly poster boys as Tom and Robin were,
could nonetheless weild their knives most expertly. A single leap
forward, followed by a whack, and either Tom or Robin would be
Bobbitized forever. It would happen just as easily as the big-headed roses
had been cut from the bushes in the yard. Easily, swiftly. And Verona,
with her Incan ways, would hardly protest, I imagined, if Petra gave the
order. The Incans had practised human sacrifice, both of men and maiden
girls.
Petra smiled at Tom and Robin. Her eyes were warm, yet
commanding. She let them linger over the menÕs cocks. Her gaze had a
possessive air to it.
You could see, quite easily, where the men usually wore swimsuits.
There was a white patch of skin traversing each manÕs waist. Smack in
the middle of it was his pubic bush, with his naked cock rising a good ten
inches (or more, I had not measured them!) from his bush. The cock was
rigid, pulsing. Judging from the pre-cum dripping from its tip, I guessed
that each manÕs cock was already past the point of mere erectness. The
men were broiling with sperm, inside their organs. Their balls were
aching to cum. Indeed, Robin tossed his head a little. He was younger than
Tom. His face seemed to have a slightly feverish flush to it. His eyes
seemed to plead with me a little. Yet I could do nothing. Petra held her
whip lightly but firmly in her hand. I knew she would be happy to crack it
across bare skin, leaving her mark upon anyone who disobeyed her.
Tea had been brought downstairs, in a silver tea kettle. Petra spoke
to Verona. The woman finished arranging the flowers in the vases. She
rummaged in a small bag, made of burlap, brought down by one of the
Mexican men. She took from it a handful of fresh bars of soap. They were
small bars, the kind you find lying about for free in a hotel room. She
broke each bar in half. We watched her, wondering, then let our eyes
return to the display of one anotherÕs privates.
Tom squirmed his buttocks upon the vinyl seat. He reached out his
arms. He clasped me round my thin shoulders. He pulled me toward him,
so that I leaned against him. His body was warm. He caressed my blonde
hair where it fell spreading across my back. His other arm captured
Bethany. She squeaked as he drew her to him, then relented. Her one knee
fell inward, against her other, blocking the view of her sex.
ÒLegs apart, Bethany,Ó Petra warned. The woman gave a toss of her
long curly brown hair and slapped her whipÕs tip absently against the vinyl
seat between her own legs. The whip gave off a loud SMACK! as it cracked
against the couch. Bethany started. Her eyes widened. Hastily she opened
her legs, moving her bottom forward on the couch as she did it. As Tom
caressed her long hair on her head, tousling it, she showed off her newly
growing pubic hair to Robin and Petra and Ginger.
I sat with my own thighs splayed wide. I looked at Ginger, she at
me. We both had the marks of our swimsuits upon us. My waist was
adorned with a triangle of white flesh, showing where the crotch of my
suit covered me when I went swimming. A pale line banded my waist. It
showed where the waistband usually lay. For Ginger it was the same.
Now, of course, sitting without our suits on, our bushes were displayed. I
looked freely at her slit, she at mine. Robin put his arm about her. She
smiled at him, at me. I wished I had RobinÕs arm about me instead of
TomÕs. Or rather, perhaps, I wished I had both RobinÕs and TomÕs arms
around me. I was jealous, I suppose, I wanted both men for myself.
Tom kissed my forehead. I drew my face back from his. He leered at
me. He sat with his hips well forward on the couch. He displayed his
virility proudly. His eyes dropped to my breasts, passed over my smooth,
indrawn tummy, came to rest upon my muff. Unabashedly he dropped his
arm to my hips. His big hand circled round my waist and I gasped as I felt
one of his big fingers stab into my sex.
ÒNot yet, Tom,Ó Petra said. She added ÒpleaseÓ to be deferential to
him, yet I suspected that if he had continued she would have gladly let his
penis taste her whip. Tom, reluctantly, unspeared his finger from my slit.
I drew my thighs closer, feeling tense. I was awkward now. I did not
know what I wished for anymore. He had been so rude, so bold. So crass.
As if to spite Petra he raised his hand to my tits and yanked freely upon
the nipple of my right breast. I gasped again. Robin looked a little peeved,
but said nothing. Stealthily Ginger passed her hand across her lap and then
over to his. She stroked his cock, using just one finger, careful not to let
Petra see what she was doing. Robin suppressed a groan, shifted his ass
forward on the couch. He felt relieved, yet inspired. I feared she might
make him spurt out onto the floor.
Apparently the Mexican men were not strangers to this room, or to
seeing others like ourselves entertained inside it. One of them went to a
shelf along the back bars of the cage we sat in. He took down a bucket and
a length of rubber tubing. The bucket was made of tin. It was dented. The
tubing was wide, big enough for putting around the end of a big knockwurst
sausage.
ÒMen, I want you to pee before we go any further,Ó Petra said to Tom
and Robin. Alfonse will put the tubing heÕs holding around the end of your
penis. Then, pee. HeÕll take care of emptying the bucket. When youÕve both
peed, I guess IÕll go too, because weÕre all going to be a bit soapy in a
minute.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó Tom asked. He was growing impatient with her silly games.
But Robin, secretly pleasured by Ginger, seemed not to mind. He tossed his
head, apparently more concerned with holding back his seed than anything
Petra might be plotting.
The tubing was put to TomÕs penis first. Bethany and I watched,
wide-eyed, as Alfonse fitted the tube to the end of TomÕs dick. His
sunbaked hands worked expertly. TomÕs throbbing penis had its crown
captured, stuffed into the tube.
ÒOkay, piss. Piss, Anglo,Ó Alfonse said to Tom. Reluctantly,
gripping my right tit and its nipple as a boy might cling to some part of
his mother, Tom released his bladderfull of pee. I watched as his piss
went shooting down the tube and began to fill the bucket. Bethany,
impressed, let out a little sigh. He jetted out his fluid with ease, yet
vigorously, in full command of his person even as Alfonse leaned over him,
watching that the tube didnÕt pop off.
When at last Tom had emptied himself, Alfonse removed the tube. He
tore open a medicated wipe pad and, without asking TomÕs permission,
passed it over his pee hole.
ÒHey!Ó Tom said.
ÒJust cleaning you, Anglo,Ó Alfonse said. Then he stuffed the used
pad into his back pocket and tore open another. He wiped the inside of the
tubing, at its end, where it had been fitted over Tom. Then Alfonse picked
up the bucket and walked with the tube over to Robin. Ginger drew back
her hand. Petra, leaning out, saw GingerÕs hand retreating.
ÒCome here, Ginger,Ó Petra said. Her voice was low, commanding.
Soft yet firm. Ginger looked at me, swallowed, rose from the couch. Her
hands darted back to her bottom as she stood. She walked over to Petra as
Alfonse bent and fitted the end of the tube over RobinÕs cockhead.
ÒGinger, you must do as I say,Ó Petra said to the young woman.
ÒTurn around, please. Take your hands from your derriere.Ó
With a guilty shiver Ginger turned around, facing me, her bottom
facing Petra. She drew away her hands, did not know where to put them,
finally settled them like butterflies over her naked mount.
ÒYes, you have a lovely bottom, Ginger,Ó Petra said. She stroked the
girlÕs ass. Ginger looked at me with woeful eyes, knowing what must
happen, fearful of it, yet, I suspected, a little enthralled by it, for we
were all impatient in our private places to get on with deeper things. I
felt my own hand stray between my thighs and I stroked my slit. It was
wrong, I might be punished if Petra caught me, yet I could not help myself.
ÒThe skin of your bottom is so perfect, so pale in its color, like a
soft pearl,Ó Petra said to Ginger. It was silly, one girl praising anotherÕs
ass. Yet I felt aroused by it, and found my clit with my finger and
stealthily rubbed it. Robin began peeing. His pee trailed down inside the
tubing and mixed with what Tom had already put there.
ÒGinger, IÕm going to help you behave,Ó Petra said to the young
woman. Bethany and I watched with rapt attention. Little Bow clapped
her hands to her face, over her eyes. Yet her fingers were splayed. Her
eyes peeped out between them. ÒDo you understand, Ginger, that I love
you, but have to teach you?Ó Petra asked. She loved, I think, drawing out
what we all knew was inevitable. GingerÕs large lovely breasts began
shaking like fruit on a windswept tree as she stood, bent forward, her
bottom offered to Petra. She drew up her arms, clasped them round
herself, yet she did not cover her breasts with them. Instead she squeezed
her breasts within her clasping arms, letting us still see their ripe
fullness, their stiff nipples.
ÒBend over more, dear, let your ass protrude fully to me,Ó Petra told
Ginger. Robin ceased peeing and Alfonse removed the tube from his penis.
He opened a medicated pad and wiped it across the tip of RobinÕs dick.
ÒOhhh, I donÕt want...Ó Ginger moaned. But she leaned forward more,
as Petra ordered, until she was bent almost perpendicular to her toes.
Petra passed a hand all around GingerÕs nude bottom, savoring its
softness, the plumpness of her hemispheres.
ÒAre you girls comfy on your bottoms, hmmm?Ó Petra asked Bethany
and I. Her question, I think, didnÕt include Bow, but the little girl piped up
ÒYes!Ó as if to insist that she be included in the question too.
ÒYou and I will talk later, Bow,Ó Petra said. Then, with a sudden,
unexpected whack (in that she had just been addressing herself to little
Bow), Petra brought the tip of her whip down hard against GingerÕs bare
ass.
ÒYEEEEOOOUCH!Ó Ginger yelped. She straightened up like an arrow.
Her hands flew around to her behind. She rubbed it, vigorously. Her long
hair bounced aound her shoulders as her hands worked to soothe her tushy.
Apparently she thought sheÕd received all her just desserts, for her face
paled when Petra told her to bend back over again.
ÒIÕm not finished,Ó Petra explained. ÒIÕm in charge here, dear Ginger.
Not you.Ó
With trembling breasts and a panic-stricken face, Ginger bent over
again. I pressed my finger deeper into my slit. I liked watching, though I
would never have admitted that openly to myself. I sensed Ginger had
never tasted leather before and had defied Petra out of curiousity. Now
she was getting more than sheÕd bargained for.
The maid began serving tea. She poured the tea into tiny little china
cups and gave one first to little Bow, then to Bethany, then to Tom and
myself. I sipped mine, watching as Petra touched the mark sheÕd made on
GingerÕs fanny. The tea was Japanese green tea. I did not mind. It was
hot, had a soothing flavor to it. The steam from my cup tickled my nose.
With my free hand I diddled my slit, openly, not caring if Petra caught me.
I sensed we all had to be punished before we would be put to the men. Tom
stroked my right tit again. I pushed my breast forward, letting him take
its tip, encouraging him to take more of it in his hand. Bethany, on TomÕs
other side, squeaked as he found one of her breasts and pinched at one of
her nipples.
ÒYes, Ginger, you have a perfect bottom for whipping. So nice and
round, and you offer it so proudly,Ó Petra teased. She gave the bent over
Ginger another sudden whack. The young woman squealed, shot erect,
darted back her hands and assauged her naked hiney with them.
ÒSit down, Ginger, I must pee now,Ó Petra told the girl dismissively.
Still rubbing her bottom, but with her hips swaying quite salaciously,
Petra returned to her place beside Robin on the couch. She gasped when
she sat down. Robin smiled at her. He arched his hips farther forward on
the couch and invited her with his eyes to reclaim his cock. She kept her
fingers to herself this time. The maid served her tea.
Petra scooted her ass forward on the couch. She moved forward
until her sex was off the sofa, and most of her bottom, leaving only just
the smallest portion of her behind on it. She spread her legs and called for
the tin bucket. Alfonse had just emptied it, down a drainhole at the back
of the cell. There was a faucet there. Briefly he turned it on, washing out
the inside of the bucket. Then he dumped the rinsewater down the
drainhole. Petra spread her pussy lips, waiting for him.
Alfonse walked over to Petra. He knelt before her. He placed the
bucket between her legs and scooted it forward on the carpet until it was
under her spread-apart slit.
ÒAhhh, thank you, Alfonse,Ó Petra said. Studying the bucket,
carefully opening the flower of her cunt, she peed. Her pee squirted from
her cunt and fell splattering into the bucket.
ÒDamn! ThatÕs beautiful!Ó Tom roared. He took his arm from Bethany
and clapped it to his cock. With his eyes glued to Petra, he began to
furiously fist his penis.
ÒTom, bad boy,Ó Petra said. She continued to pee.
ÒI donÕt care,Ó Tom replied. ÒWhip me if you must! God, how lovely
you look, peeing like a mare in heat!Ó Tom cried. Ginger looked at me
glumly. WeÕd already peed, upstairs. Perhaps the Oriental tea would help
us make new pee, so we could be admired by the men too.
Robin was, I think, too close to spilling his load to indulge himself
in a fisting of his cock. He watched Petra with dreamy eyes, following the
arc of her pee as it sprang from her cunt like water does from a balloon
thatÕs sprung a leak. We were all inspired. I frigged myself, didling my
slit with my small finger. At the same time I drank my tea. The maid
watched me empty my small cup. Without being asked, she came silently
over to me and offered to refill it. I let her.
Petra ceased peeing. Alfonse broke open a medicated pad.
ÒThat will not be necessary, Alfonse,Ó Petra told her Mexican
servant. ÒWeÕre all going to wash our genitals now.Ó Alfonse nodded. I
felt a shiver run through me. Wash our genitals? Just our genitals,
sitting here on couches in this well-appointed (if well barred) living
room? I could not quite believe my ears. Then I remembered the soap.
The maid returned to the side table next to our couch. She replaced the
tea kettle on a small hot plate. She picked up the handfulls of broken soap.
She began passing them out. First to Bow, then to Bethany, then Tom and
me, and then to Ginger, Robin, and finally to Petra.
ÒRub your private with the soap,Ó Petra told us. ÒJust your private.
Not your breasts, or your tummies, or your legs. Just your sex. ThatÕs it.
I know the soap is dry, but rub it anyway. A little will rub off. My your
penis is big, Tom. Rub it all down the length of your cock. Bow? Put it
into your slit and rub it all about. Good girl. I may yet let you taste a
little pleasure on this night.Ó
ÒIt isnÕt doing anything,Ó Bethany whined. She always liked
immediate gratification, even in something silly like this.
ÒJust rub,Ó Petra told her. ÒRub your slit. Enjoy the feeling of your
soft bottom on the couch, not stinging from the whip as GingerÕs is, and
the openness of your legs, with two big men so hard and ready right beside
you and in front of you. Look at RobinÕs cock as you soap the inside of your
slit. Yes, Bethany, heÕs going to poke that big thing of his right into your
soapy little slit. And who knows where else? Are you not a virgin in your
bottom?Ó
ÒOooh! YouÕre scaring me. I only want him in my pussy,Ó Bethany
said. Eagerly, though, she rubbed the soap up and down her slit, and
through her pubic hair. Her bare butt squirmed on the couch. I suspected
if sheÕd been told to soap her bottom she would have done so just as
eagerly.
The maid drew a dripping wet squirt gun from the ice bucket that
held the champagne. She passed a soft cloth over it to dry it. It was just
a small gun, as a preschool age child might be given to play with. The
maid walked over to Ginger, and handed it to her. Ginger accepted the gun.
How silly she looked, a grown woman holding a small childÕs squirt gun!
ÒSquirt your dell with it,Ó Petra told Ginger. ÒYour pussy needs
water, doesnÕt it, for the soap to bloom? Squirt your slit with the gun.
That will give it the water it needs.Ó
Grinning rather nervously, feeling embarrassed, Ginger turned the
gun on herself. We all watched avidly as she depressed the trigger of the
gun. A stream of chilly water squirted from it. She gave a shout. The
water was cold as ice. Yet I think she shouted more from the silliness of
it all, squirting her sex with the little pistol, for the stream was thin as a
thread.
ÒThatÕs it. Give yourself several good shots with the squirt gun,Ó
Petra told Ginger. The young woman obeyed. She squirted her pussy,
wetting it, causing the soap to bubble up from it. As she squirted herself
she applied more soap to her dell. She rubbed the bar over the ridges of
her sex and delved between them. The bar invaded her pinkness, turned it
white as the squirtgun wet the residue of the soap.
ÒOoooh! Ahhhhh!Ó Ginger cried. She threw back her head. Clearly she
was enjoying herself now, able to masturbate herself even as she
pretended to be merely cleansing her ripe cunt. The men watched her with
particular interest. Their big cocks thrummed. She was sending them
maddening signals, toying with her slit right in front of them, bringing
herself to the brink of orgasm.
ÒTry not to cum, Ginger darling,Ó Petra advised. ÒCertainly the men
must not cum. What a waste it would be, for them to spill their seed on
the floor. Verona, Ginger is wet enough now. Give Robin the gun. He must
wet himself next.Ó
Robin accepted the gun from Verona. We watched as he squirted his
cock. The stream from the gun was small, his penis was big. It was like
watching a man try to put mustard on a big hot dog, except the stream
from the water gun was much thinner and smaller than a stream from a
mustard bottle would have been. Yet Robin squirted away, doing his
cockhead first, then down one side of his shaft, then down the other side.
He squirted along the top of his penis, then bent and squirted up the
underside. Finally, for he was eager to soap his balls as well, he squirted
the gun upon them.
The gun ran dry. The maid took it from him. Languidly she returned
to the champagne bucket. The ice was melting. She thrust the gun into its
depths. It filled with melted icewater. She lifted it out, toweled it dry.
She came to me. I saw she was avoiding Bow, Bethany. There was too
much risk that those two little girls, armed with the gun, might go on a
squirting spree.
I squirted myself. I gasped at the chilliness of the water.
Fortunately the stream from the gun was pathetically thin, though it did
jet out quite briskly. I squirted my pubic curls, my labial lips, then within
my cunt. At the same time I rubbed myself with the soap. The stream
from the gun found my clitoris. Wickedly I squirted the stream right upon
it. I shuddered. I longed to explode in an orgasm. My belly trembled. The
maid took the gun from me and gave it to Tom.
I sipped more tea. I swallowed with difficulty. I wanted to cum, yet
knew I should wait. I watched Tom soap himself. His organ bloomed with
soap. I longed to bend over and lick it clean.
Bethany soaped herself next, and finally Bow. The maid squirted
their pussies for them. She did not let them have possession of the gun.
Finally, Petra was given the gun. She bathed her sex in its thin stream.
Bubbles blossomed on her dell.
A cloth was passed around. We were told by Petra to just wipe our
hands with it. When that was done, she gazed at us all with admiring eyes.
We felt like her disciples (or at least I did), all of us with our sexes
soaped, waiting for her orders.
ÒIndulge me yet a little more,Ó Petra said. She looked at Tom. He
was the most dominant of the two males. He nodded, agreeing silently to
her request. Robin, tossing his head, yearned to cum. He could think of
little save his trembling penis. Rubbing himself with soap had taken him
right to the edge.
Boots were brought out by the maid and the two Mexican men. Long,
thigh length boots for us females (including even little Bow!). The men
were given shorter, knee length boots.
At PetraÕs request, I tried pulling my boots on. They were very tight.
I thought they might be too small for me but Petra assured me they were
the right size. The maid helped me get on my boots. When theyÕd been
drawn all the way up my legs they almost reached to my crotch. I felt odd,
clad in long leather boots, with my pussy all soapy. The maid told me to
stand. I did. She had me turn around and she tied the boots with laces to
the backs of my thighs. My boots had long, steepled heels. I wasnÕt sure I
could walk in them. I felt captured, held by them. Yet I also felt a desire
to rub my slit. But I didnÕt, for my fingers would get soapy and give away
my masturbating.
The men managed to yank on their boots. Theirs, like ours, were
lined with soft fur. They were easy to wear, soft and comfortable, but
(especially on me and the girls) quite binding. They inhibited the bending
of my knees. I wished to kick them off, to be barelegged again, for I still
was quite nude, with all the rest of me displayed. Why wear these silly
boots on my legs? But I knew that, without the maidÕs help, I was
probably doomed to keep them on. I didnÕt think I could get them off by
myself. Trying to would have gotten me in trouble with Petra.
Petra stood up. She walked around to each of us, swinging her whip,
admiring our boots as we sat like obedient mice on the couches before her.
The men offered their penises to her, ramrod stiff and aching. Bethany and
Ginger and I offered her views of our soaped pussies, between our legs,
and our stemming nipples on our bosoms.
ÒVery good, very good,Ó Petra said, murmuring. ÒI see I chose well,
at the night club. Excellent. Please remain seated. WeÕll put on gloves
next.Ó She sat back down. The maid distributed gloves. She gave black
opera length gloves to the females. To the men she gave tight, wrist-
length work gloves. I slid on the gloves I was given. They were black, like
my boots. They were made of soft rubber. I pulled them on with some
difficulty. When at last I got them on, they stretched all the way to the
tops of my arms. My shoulders were left bare, but my arms, like my legs,
were now covered completely. It was odd, being dressed this way. My tits
hung naked, my pussy was bared and soaped, my tummy showed its
indented navel, but my arms and legs were more thoroughly dressed than
at any time in my life! Jerry Falwell would have been pleased, if only the
logic were reversed. Instead, this way, with my privates totally bare and
my arms and legs suited up, I was, I was sure, an outrage to decency,
pleasing only (and then only in his secret thoughts) perverts and Jimmy
Swaggart!
There were laces hanging off my gloves where they met my bare
shoulders. The maid came around and tied off my gloves for me, to my
upper arms, so they wouldnÕt slip down. I flexed my hands. They were
encased in rubber. I looked past Tom at little Bow. I shivered. How
horrifying she looked! A little girl, just 8, clad in long leather boots with
stiletto heels, and her small thin arms bound in black rubber! Her blonde
hair hung loose down past her shoulders, down almost to her waist. She
shook her head. She smiled. She seemed not to mind her outfit. For her it
was like Halloween, perhaps, a mere game of dress-up. Her skin shone
white, kept from the sun so she could grow up to be Marilyn Monroe. Her
breast buds puckered pink and round on her chest. Her belly button
twinkled, a soft hole in her tummy. Between her legs she was soaped.
ÒWe will go exploring in a minute, but first we must all put on
wristcuffs,Ó Petra announced. Black bands were passed out. I saw that
each band had a D-ring in it. I knew the purpose of that, shivered. These
were pre-formed manacles she was giving us. The D-ring would allow any
of us to be quickly made secure, for sex or for whipping.
With a small gulp, I buckled one of the wristlets onto my arm. It
was like putting on a watch, except the band was bigger. When IÕd secured
the first cuff around my left wrist, I buckled the second around my right.
I was ready for action now, except I feared I would be the object of the
action, not its perpetrator.
The maid came round to each of us. She held ankle cuffs in her
hands. She bent and attached an ankle cuff to each of our ankles, buckling
them round our boots, doing both the men and the women. Even little Bow
was not spared.
I thought we were finished then, but there was still more. The maid
fetched more bands. These were longer, and we were told to put them
around our thighs, just above our knees. I looked at Ginger. She caught my
eye, looked back. But what could we do? Tom and Robin were going along
with all this. We needed them to save us. And we were locked in this
cage, with the Mexican men both armed with machetes. Petra smiled. All
was kept decorous. The maid offered more tea, I accepted. I sipped, felt
myself relax a little. Then I took the leg cuffs from her and buckled them
around my thighs.
Tom and Robin were not asked to put on thigh cuffs. This made them
happy, for they knew if we girls were being asked to put on more, it could
only be for one purpose, to let them do as they wished with our bodies.
They settled back, admiring us, grinning like foxes about to eat the hens in
a hen house. Robin shivered a little. He was desperately eager to shoot
out his load. He only managed to hold himself back with a great deal of
willpower. I think at that point even the gentlest touch, fondling his cock,
would have made him cum. Fortunately his genitals were soaped. Ginger
could not touch him without betraying herself, by getting soap on her
fingers.
Cuffs were passed out next for our arms. Petra was clearly in a
mood to hurry things now. She had us girls stand up. She told us to tie on
each otherÕs cuffs. Carefully Ginger walked over to me, balanced with
some trepidation on her new heels. She drew out my arm from my body.
She had me hold it there. She banded the cuff around my arm and then
buckled it tightly into place. I shivered. She was shivering too, knowing
its purpose. When sheÕd done my other arm, it was my turn to do her.
ÒIÕm afraid,Ó Ginger said to me in a soft voice, whispering, so that
Petra wouldnÕt hear.
ÒMmmm, me too,Ó I replied. ÒYou have soap on your pussy,Ó I said.
She giggled. I did not mean to make light of our plight, but at the same
time as I felt scared, I felt enthralled too, for we were utterly nude, and
wet in our most intimate place, with soap there to make us easier to slide
into. My nipples burned on my chest. They were still covered with Close-
Up, though the effects of the toothpaste had diminished somewhat since it
was first applied. Either that or IÕd begun to get used to it. Was I being
trained? I suspected I might be.
The maid next handed out collars for our throats. I didnÕt like the
look of them. They were leather, with D-rings on them, so I could be
quickly secured to whatever the men, or Petra, might wish to see me
attached to. In addtion the collars had small studs on them, as if to say,
ÔGo ahead, beat her. She is submissive.Õ I accepted a collar with
trepidation. But the one given to me was for Ginger, and the one given to
her was for me. I let her buckle mine around my throat first. As she did, I
watched Bow and Bethany. They were binding each other in similar
fashion. But they were happier than Ginger and I. They liked this dress-
up, not knowing, perhaps, its consquences. The men looked at Ginger and I
and the two smaller girls with equally wicked plans for us both.
Petra was not included in the female-specific collaring. She
remained as the men, except her boots were long, with spiked heels, not
work boots as the men wore. And she had opera gloves, not work gloves.
In addition, of course, she still held her whip, which even the men didnÕt
have, remaining ringmistress of us all.
ÒAnd now belts,Ó Petra said, when all four of us females assigned to
submissive roles had been collared. The maid passed out thick leather
belts, lined with fur. I wrapped mine around my belly, felt it weigh upon
the flare of my hips. I buckled it. It had D-rings on it, just as my
wristlets, my anklets, my leg bands and arms bands and my collar had. I
could, I supposed, be fixed in most any position now, even the most
extreme. And still my breasts hung free and bare, and my bottom wobbled
nakedly behind me, and my pussy showed its soap bubbles.
ÒI feel like a heroine... or a victim,Ó Ginger whispered to me,
adjusting her belt on her hips.
ÒYou look like BatGirl,Ó I giggled.
ÒYou do too,Ó she replied. Impulsively I leaned forward. My lips
touched hers. We kissed. Our breasts pressed together. Our nipples
touched, burned into each other. We kept our tummies and slits back from
each other, however, lest we smear soap over each otherÕs thighs.
Petra ordered us to separate.
ÒIÕm frightened,Ó Ginger whispered, when our mouths separated.
ÒYouÕre older than me,Ó I replied. ÒDo something!Ó
ÒI canÕt,Ó Ginger answered. Her hands drifted back behind her,
caught at the hind cheeks of her bottom. ÒI canÕt.Ó
ÒYou want it, then,Ó I said.
ÒYou do too,Ó she answered. I hoped she wasnÕt right.
ÒShall we see the sights?Ó Petra asked with a laugh. I wanted to
answer, ÔYes, as long as we arenÕt tied down to them!Õ but I said nothing
instead. I felt scared, yet submissive. I was collared, belted, booted,
gloved. A girl could not have been better prepared for what the night
portended. The men rose from their sofas, unbidden, knowing their hour
had come. They displayed their penises to Ginger and I, Bethany, Bow.
They had lust in their eyes.
ÒLet us proceed,Ó Petra said. She patted TomÕs bare fanny with her
gloved hand. She pointed with her whip in front of her. We glided toward
the equipment at the back of the cell.
There was a table there. It was low to the floor. It was covered
with fresh, soft-woven satin. Cut into the satin, in the center of the
table, was a square. It laid bare the wood of the table, and within the
square I saw a pattern of metal diodes.
Petra told Ginger to sit down on the table. Ginger obeyed. She sat
right down on the square. She shivered a little, looked up at Petra. She
crossed her arms over her breasts. Petra told her to lie back.
Ginger obeyed. Necessarily, she unwrapped her arms from her
bosom, lying back and spreading herself out on the table. Her blonde hair
fanned out on the felt. Her face looked worried, but she said nothing, was
silent, as we all were, save for Petra.
There were D-rings sewn into the table. Petra bent over the table,
over Ginger. She kissed the girlÕs belly. Ginger flinched. Still she said
nothing, no word of protest, though I could see by her eyes she was scared.
Speaking softly to Ginger, telling her how pretty she looked, all laid out on
the table like that, Petra attached GingerÕs wrists to D-rings along the
sides of her body. She had her bend her rubber-clad elbows upward, so
that her arms were doubled-up beside her, so she could, if she wished, lift
her hips without difficulty.
ÒThere,Ó Petra said. When sheÕd bound GingerÕs wrists to the table,
she went down to her legs. These she drew wide apart, bending them at
the knees. Then she fastened GingerÕs ankles to long D-rings near the far
end of the table.
ÒYour soft bottom is resting on electrical circuits, dear,Ó Petra told
Ginger when sheÕd finished securing the girl. IÕm going to turn on the
circuits, now, okay?Ó Ginger blinked, nodded. She did not guess what my
mind was already seizing upon.
ÒNo!Ó I cried. But it was too late. Petra had picked up a small box,
sitting innocuously on the floor, next to the table. She depressed a button.
ÒYEEEEOOOOOCH!Ó Ginger hollared. She tried to bolt up from the
table. But her arms were locked to it, and her booted legs. Only her hips
could rise, lifting her torso with it, and her wobbly breasts. The men
laughed. GingerÕs ass shot up from the square where the diodes nestled.
SheÕd been shocked, right on her bare seat.
ÒYes, exercise those hips, my dear,Ó Petra told Ginger. ÒHow lovely
you look, all booted and gloved, with your hips lifted up, so the men can
admire your neat little pussy. Show it to them. Ah, how wide your thighs
are spread. Let them look into you. DonÕt drop your derriere to the table,
whatever you do.Ó Petra laughed.
ÒOh my God, turn it off, turn it off! I canÕt keep my hips up forever,Ó
Ginger howled.
ÒYouÕll keep them up as long as I say,Ó Petra replied. ÒDo you need
help? Then I shall give it. Or, rather, Bow will.Ó Petra reached up to the
shelf, that hung from the back wall of our cell. She took down a cattle
prod. She gave it to little Bow. ÒGet under the table, dear,Ó she said.
ÒSlide back the electrical panel. Then stick your prod up through the hole
and stick Ginger in her ass.Ó
ÒHo! Ho! Ho!Ó Bow laughed. The small 8-year-old girl was delighted
at the prospect of poking GingerÕs ass with the prod. Even Bethany, who
should have known better, was laughing. Who was to say she, or I,
wouldnÕt be next? Yet I was mesmerized by the effect of GingerÕs hips,
forced into the air. All her sex was displayed, and there was nothing she
could do to save herself, or even her modestly.
Little Bow slipped under the table. I heard a sound. The electrical
panel in the center of the table was slid back. BowÕs face appeared,
glowing, chortling. Suddenly she stuck up the prod through the space.
ÒYEEEEEK!Ó Ginger wailed. Bow poked at her bare ass with the cattle
prod.
ÒStick her hiney hole with it,Ó Bethany told Bow. Beth was ecstatic,
as was Bow, both of them delighted to see a grown woman put into such
humorous agony.
ÒProd her all over, but just on her seat,Ó Petra told Bow. ÒAnd donÕt
touch her tailbone with it. Just her bottom cheeks, and within them, if
you wish to make her really leap.Ó
ÒYes, donÕt worry, I did this to Freddie once,Ó Bow said. She was
fingering herself, I think, as she worked the prod up through the space,
delightfully touching Ginger wherever she wished. Poor Ginger bounced up
and down, showing us her slit with abandon. Her breasts joggled about on
her chest, her eyes began weeping. Yet I saw her nipples were stiff, tight
points of pink coral. Was she enjoying, somewhere deep down inside
herself, this wanton display of her slitted sex to the men?
ÒOooooch! OOOOOOCH! YooooOOOOK!Ó Ginger howled. Each poke of the
prod sent her bare hips arching into the air. How strange she looked,
wearing a leather collar, leather boots, and long rubber gloves. I imagined
her as an animal of some sort, all outfitted, performing wicked games for
its master. Except she was female, and quite human. She wept openly
now. Her titties jiggled on her chest like big mounds of half-flattened
jello. Her bottom was in agony, each little descent of it met by the prod,
forcing it to rebound toward the ceiling.
ÒHee! Heee! YouÕll never be bad again!Ó Bow laughed from under the
table.
ÒWhat did I DOOOOOO!Ó Ginger yowled.
ÒYou bared your ass,Ó Bow replied, mirthfully. She was like a bad
little elf, sequestered under that table, tormenting the ShoemakerÕs wife.
While the rest of the elves were off making shoes for the shoemaker, and
he slept sound in his bed, this little one played tricks on wife, or his
daughter, perhaps, for Ginger was only 19.
ÒYEEEK! YAAAAWK! Ooooh, PLEASE! StoPPPP!Ó Ginger begged. Then,
suddenly, her face froze. Her mouth formed a rictus of fear. And then,
arching up, but unable to escape the evil prod, she cried, ÒHOOOOO! Not in
my HooOOOOLE!Ó
Bow burst out laughing, under the table. Ginger, bouncing
althletically above her, had managed to keep her bottomcheeks squeezed
tight, until now. Tiring, sheÕd let go of them, just a little. And now she
was paying the price for that. The little 8-year-old blonde jabbed the
cattle prod into her anus. It shocked her, repeatedly, though I guessed,
since Petra had suggested the idea to the little girl, the voltage was just
under the level where it might have caused her harm. But Ginger was
hardly comfortable. She lurched upward, her legs splayed wide, trying
hard to get off the prod, but losing the battle, for little Bow could follow
her up and keep jamming it ever deeper inside her.
ÒAnd your cunt, too,Ó Bow announced, at last. She pulled back the
prod, sending a wave of relief across GingerÕs features. But just as the
poor young woman relaxed, she stiffened again, even more breathtakingly
than before, for the 8-year-old was now set on spearing her pussy, and she
was wide as a Thanksgiving turkey before her.
Pressing a button on the box, Petra turned the tip of the prod off.
Bow offered the end of it to Alfonse, who wiped it quickly with several
medicated pads. Then Petra turned the device back on.
ÒOh, please!Ó Ginger begged. But she could see we were all too eager
to see her reaction to let her up now. I walked forward. I bent over her
face. My nude breasts caressed her lips. She snapped at my nipples with
her teeth. I jumped back. I didnÕt want to share her agony, only to console
her. I could do nothing to help her. I was only 13, she was 19, an adult.
She would have to bear up under the other adultsÕ punishment of her as
best as she could. But, bending more carefully, I kissed her lips with my
own.
ÒThere, there,Ó I said in a motherly voice. I felt sorry for her and at
the same time I felt a sinful desire to see her speared. I tried to banish
the wish from my mind. I succeeded, a little. I didnÕt wish to be bad, only
good. I kissed her mouth again.
ÒNooOOOOOHHH!Ó Ginger yelled. Her face bolted up past mine. I was
thrown back from her.
Under the table, Bow squealed with delight. SheÕd turned around
under the open square, changing her angle of attack. Now she was pushing
the prod up between GingerÕs widely offered legs. It looked like a long
penis, come to inseminate her.
ÒOh, God! NO!Ó Ginger howled. It was no use. Bow touched her tender
labial lips with the prod. Ginger shrieked. She delved between them with
the prodÕs tip. Ginger shouted even more loudly. She found GingerÕs clit,
stabbed it hard.
ÒYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!Ó Ginger yelled. Her voice was almost
hoarse now. Finally little Bow drove the prod within her cuntlips. I had to
hold my hands over my ears as Ginger cried hard, a long howling shriek
that made even the Mexicans jump.
At last Petra told Bow to come out from under the table.
ÒOh, I donÕt wanna,Ó Bow answered. ÒThis is FUN!Ó
ÒYes, but I donÕt want to wear her out completely,Ó Petra replied. ÒI
still have much more that I expect from her. Right, men?Ó she added,
glancing at Tom, then at Robin. The men stood in awe of her now. Their
cocks were ramrod stiff, their balls set to burst.
ÒYes,Ó Tom breathed. ÒYes indeed.Ó
ÒYour wife has a nice cunt,Ó Robin told Tom.
ÒSheÕs not my wife, just my girlfriend. But IÕll accept the
compliment anyway,Ó Tom said.
We all helped unbuckle Ginger from the table. She was half-
destroyed, lying there with her hair all messed from her twisting and
screaming. Her soft skin was bathed in sweat. Yet, as I kissed her lips,
hoping to make her feel better, she began to smile. Just a little. Her eyes
opened and she gazed up at me brightly. I giggled, as her tongue tried to
invade my mouth. I pushed her tongue back with my own. She drove
harder, straining upward with her tongue, until I finally, to be nice, let her
push it into my mouth. I sucked upon it.
ÒYouÕre next,Ó Petra told me. I froze. ÒNot on the table, but on
another one of my toys,Ó Petra added. I relaxed a little. I was aware of
the men, watching me with hot eyes. They were so handsome. For any
other two men I would never have let myself even be kissed, but for them,
and their well-displayed cocks, I was willing to try. Yes, I told myself.
Not to actually do whatever it was Petra had in mind, but to try it. I
assured myself that if I didnÕt like it sheÕd let me off, for I was only 13.
It was a lie, but it consoled me, and let me go to my doom.
Petra placed a gloved hand on my bottom. It felt alien against me. I
started, rose from GingerÕs lapping mouth. My bosoms hung above her, but
she was too weak to rise, though she lifted her hands to try to grasp them.
Petra drew me back. She placed both her hands possessively around my
slim waist. With a whisper in my ear, a soft confession of her love for
me, for my beauty, Petra guided me across the room to a big log.
ÒYes, this is our log ride,Ó Petra told me. I gazed at it. It hung in
the air, suspended at both ends, a fallen tree waiting for me to perch my
bottom upon it. It looked like a swing, but the bark was still on the log,
making it rough to sit on. Anxiously I let Petra scoot me around the log so
that my heinie was pressed up against it. I reached up and grasped the
chains which held the log like a swing with my gloved hands. I gripped
both chains, feeling their links in my small palms. I knew I should jump
up, hoist my ass upon the log, but I was worried I might get a splinter in
my bare bottom.
ÒLift her,Ó Petra told Tom. Not Robin, for he was my lover, and she
wished for me to be intimate with GingerÕs boyfriend. ÒDo not sit her ass
on the log, though. Sit her thighs on it,Ó Petra told Tom. For that, I was
deeply grateful. Poor me. I would soon find out a splinter in my bottom
would have been far preferable to what Petra had planned for me.
Tom came round to my front. He stood admiring me for a moment,
my nudity, him nude as well, his cock achingly standing upright between
us. I longed to have him, but Petra knew I did, and ordered Tom to restrain
himself, for he was eager to have me as well. Nonetheless when Tom
lifted me up, seizing me by my waist, I let my hips sag forward, hoping to
catch the knob of his thing on the lips of my cunt. He avoided me, pulling
his own hips back, and sat my thighs on the log. My boots covered my legs,
protecting me from its roughness.
ÒSlide back,Ó Petra told me. ÒLet yourself hang by your knees from
the log. Let your bottom drop down. It must swing freely. ThatÕs it.
Back, girl. Drop your bottom down.Ó Before I could fully appreicate what
was happening, Petra had urged me back, making me suspend my heinie
under the log, clutching at the log with the undersides of my knees. With
my hands I held tight to the swingÕs chains.
Each link in the swingÕs chain was just long enough for a band of
leather to be looped through them. At PetraÕs direction, Tom stuck a band
through each of the links closest to my wrists. The bands were equipped
with D-rings. Buckling the bands closed, so they couldnÕt slip back out of
the chain links, Tom fixed the D-rings on my wristlets to the bands
hanging from the chains. I was bound, by my wrists. With my bottom
hanging down, I couldnÕt raise my wrists and lift my bottom back up. My
ass was exposed, the bare cheeks neatly parted by my weight. I could feel
the cool air of the cellar upon the portal of my anus. It was then that I
realized IÕd made a mistake, letting my bottom overhang the log, and drop
down behind it. Petra laughed at my predicament. Tom gazed lovingly at
my ass, so naked, so wonderfully helpless, a big moon hanging down behind
me, offering itself to whatever depravities Petra could think up.
ÒYes, youÕll swing on the log, like on a swing,Ó Petra told me. ÒBut I
wonÕt push you to swing you. IÕll strike your rump with a crop.Ó
ÒNo!Ó I gasped. Wildly I glanced back over my shoulder for Ginger.
ÒGinger!Ó I cried. But it was my turn, and I guessed Ginger, who IÕd failed
to help, would do no more than kiss me now. She smiled at me. She was
just getting up from the table. She needing help from Robin to do it, for
her limbs ached from the effort of trying to avoid the prod. I knew she
must still be woefully sore in her privates. Through the hair that hung
down over her eyes, she smiled at me. But she showed no interest in
saving me from my plight.
ÒBethany!Ó I shrieked. My eyes darted to my friend. We were almost
the same age, but she liked being babyish. She stood holding hands with
Bow, looking at me, showing no interest in helping me. Traitorously, still
gazing at me, she bent and whispered something naughty about me into
BowÕs ear. Both of them laughed.
Tom wrenched apart my legs. He parted them as wide as he could,
drawing them out so that my knees were next to the swingÕs chains. Then
he clipped my knee bandsÕ D-rings into the nearest links of chain. I was
caught. My legs were held, with my knees wide apart, fastened to the
chains from which the swing hung suspended. I had no way to close my
legs. I looked down at my muff. It glistened with soap. At least the stale
bubbles provided me with a little protection. But they were only bubbles,
and Tom had a cock a foot long and Petra had wicked intentions.
With my bottom slung beneath the log, and no way for me to rise, I
was at PetraÕs mercy. I asked her to let me up.
ÒNo,Ó she replied. ÒAnd one thing more. I almost lost my hearing,
listening to Ginger scream. You, dear, wonÕt have such an opportunity. IÕm
going to gag you.Ó
ÒNO!Ó I shouted. But Tom, eager to see me forced to perform on the
log, clapped his hand over my mouth. He held it there until Petra had
fetched a cloth gag from the shelf at the back of our cell. It was black.
She gave it to Tom, let him have the pleasure of gagging me.
ÒOpen your mouth,Ó Tom told me, removing his hand. I did, not
knowing what he intended. He thrust the gag between my lips. It pushed
my tongue back. I tasted the linen cloth. It was fine linen, but I didnÕt
want it in my mouth!
Tom knotted the gag at the back of my head. The knot settled into
the mane of my blonde hair. I was captive now, booted and collared and
gagged, with my bottom hanging down, waiting for Petra to work mischief
upon its speres, and between them.
ÒIÕm going to wash your bottom, to make it nice and wet,Ó Petra
explained to me. I could only stare back at her, bug eyed. She called the
maid. Verona brought the ice bucket over and placed it on the floor, under
my ass.
Petra bent down, bathed her hands in the ice. ÒMy, this water is
cold,Ó she said. ÒIÕm glad I have gloves on.Ó Alfonse, thinking ahead,
brought her a sponge. ÒThankyou, Alfonse,Ó she said. ÒYou have been very
helpful. Put on a condom if you wish, and jerk yourself off, while you
watch this.Ó Petra leaned close, lifting the sponge dripping wet from the
water. She kissed my cheek. ÒAlfonse likes seeing young girls get
flogged,Ó she told me. I trembled. I blinked my eyes, tried looking back at
her. Suddenly I leapt like a fish. The wet, ice cold sponge grazed my soft
ass.
ÒOh! Is it too cold? DonÕt worry, IÕll warm your ass in a minute,Ó
Petra told me, laughing. She bathed the underside of my bottomcheeks,
loving my jerking, the pleading of my eyes. She told Tom to look over the
implements hanging from a peg board at the back of our cell. ÒPick your
favorite,Ó she said. ÒAnd IÕll use it on her.Ó
Tom turned away from me. I watched his tight buns as his figure
walked to the back of our cell. Below his bare, strong ass his legs
descended into work boots. He might have been a man hired to cut logs, or
fix the plumbing, well-dressed in work gloves and boots. But he lacked
any clothing. His back, his ass, his legs were all bare. And what hung
down between his legs was bare too, visible even from behind to my hot,
searching eyes.
I watched as Tom gazed up at the cellÕs back wall. There was a shelf
there. Next to it, a black curtain. He drew it back. The pegboard!
Suddenly a whole range of implements was revealed to my eyes. I gasped.
My gag caught my gasp, held it in me. I saw long single-thong whips, and
multi-thonged whips. I saw short whips and short knouts for beating the
body. There was a police nightstick, ramrod stiff, and next to it dry,
stubbled birch rids, sure to make a good girl of even the baddest child.
Tom put his hands on his hips. He gazed at the armory, apparenlty pleased,
for his head tilted to one side, as if studying the weapons with manly
appreciation. Behind him his bare ass flexed once, then again, as if
wondering what some of those awful things might feel like, connecting
with his own bare skin. But it was mine heÕd been asked to select a whip
for.
Petra kissed my cheek. I flinched. I was beginning to fear her
kisses. Always she was at her most loving when contemplating torture
for someone. Again she kissed me, loving my immobility, my inability to
protect myself. I could only hang from the log, my legs spread, my pussy a
flower aching to be speared. My bottom was like a big ripe fruit hanging
down, its fleshy halves already split open.
The sponge trailed its frozen wetness over my ass. I clenched my
cheeks. Tightly I held them together. Perhaps for fifteen seconds I was
able to hold them that way. Perhaps less. It was no use. When I could
hold them closed no longer, and let go, Petra drove the sponge up between
them. I flung back my head. I wriggled, trying to free myself from the log.
But I could not rise, could do little more than jerk, up and down, like a
marionette strung up on strings, with my ass hanging down all pretty and
white and bare.
ÒOhhh, is your pussy too hot? Let me soothe it,Ó Petra said. She
dipped the sponge anew in the bucket and passed it up between my legs. I
bit my gag, hard. That water was cold! Ruthlessly Petra rubbed it over my
lovelips. She bathed away the soap that had accumulated in my curls. She
left my muff wet, free of soap, glistening with ice droplets in its kinky
softness.
ÒMmmm, and now I must let you swing. Do you like swinging?Ó Petra
asked me. ÒAll little girls like swinging, hmmm?Ó Tom brought her a
long, swishy crop. It was made for horses, but there were no horses down
here. Just me, with my bare ass, hanging helpless from the log swing.
ÒYes, letÕs draw you back a bit,Ó Petra told me. Deftly holding the
crop in her fingers, she clasped me with both hands upon the wet cheeks of
my bottom. She drew me back, taking the swing with me. Then she let go.
The log swung forward. I swung with it. I looked back over my shoulder
as I flew forward. No! I knew what must come next. The log reached its
farthest point forward. I stared at Petra, over my shoulder. She was
waiting for my return.
I swung back. My ass displayed itself, watonly, bare and ready for
action. She swiped the crop hard across it.
ÒYEEEEEOOOCH!Ó I gasped in my gag. It stung! Oh, it stung! It was
slim and whippy and it dug into my soft skin like a hot branding iron, laid
on lengthwise, by its heated-up handle.
ÒIs your bottom still chilly?Ó Petra laughed. She watched me swing
forward, impelled by her blow. The swing reached its farthest point, then
swung back again.
CRACK! Again the crop caught me. Screeeching within my gag, my
hair flying out all blonde and free behind me, I went soaring forward. Tom
laughed, standing at my front. His cock was hard. As I neared him, my
legs spread, I know he wished he could stuff himself into me. I wished I
could accomodate him, but no sooner had I swung forward, I swung back to
Petra.
WHACK! The crop struck me anew. I felt tears in my eyes. There
was a high-pitched scream in the room and I knew it was me, crying
through my gag. I swung forward to Tom. ÔHelp Me!Õ my eyes pleaded. But
he did nothing, standing with his arms folded over his chest, watching, his
cock like a broom handle, sticking out lewdly in front of him.
ÒAughgh!Ó Robin groaned. Petra turned her head, missed her chance
to strike me.
ÒGirls!Ó I heard her cry. I looked back, over my shoulder. Bow and
Bethany had both knelt before Robin. They were licking his cock! Bow was
kneeling on the table, for she would have been too short, otherwise, to put
her mouth to him. Bethany knelt on the floor, but strained upward, just
able to reach him that way with her mouth. Robin had his hands on the
backs of both girlsÕ heads. I thought I heard Bethany utter a little gag, or
was it Bow? He was thrusting deep into one of them.
ÒOooh! PetraÕs looking!Ó Bow cried. She leapt back from RobinÕs
waist. I saw it was Bethany he was forcing to take his cock down his
throat.
ÒAh! Yes! Mmmmm! Swallow, girl!Ó Robin cried. Suddenly his hips
flexed, his cock seemed to thrust even deeper. Bethany tried to pull her
head back. He held her close to him. I watched, swinging bare-assed on
my swing, as Robin shot himself off into BethanyÕs mouth.
ÒAh, he will come up again,Ó Petra said. ÒHe is young. And he will
be stronger, in bed, having let off a little steam.Ó She turned, smiled at
Tom. ÒPut yourself in her,Ó she said to him.
ÒInto--?Ó Tom asked. He could hardly believe his ears. HeÕd been
made to wait half the night and now, suddenly, on the spur of the moment,
Petra was letting him have some fun. With me.
ÒYeeek!Ó I cried. Tom wasted no time waiting for Petra to answer.
As soon as he realized what sheÕd said, he strode forward. He seized my
bottom. He pulled me foward so that my pussy, strung up under the log,
could be fitted over his dick.
ÒWait,Ó Petra cautioned. She took her sponge and quickly bathed the
soap residue from his dick.
As soon as Petra was finished, Tom pushed his cockhead hard against
my vulnerable pubic lips. I tried to close my legs, to be at least a little
modest. It was no use. They were secured wide apart, to the chains. Tom
drove his newly scrubbed cock into my wet cunt. I received him with a hot
gasp. He found me a a tight fight, but not as unwilling as I would have
preferred, in my more modest moments, to be. I tried separating my legs
more widely, in fact, but found that the swingsÕ chains kept them fast,
whichever way I tried to move them.
Tom drove deeper into me. His fullness was almost unbearable for a
moment, he was so wide. I struggled to open myself for him. But I was
hanging helplessly. I could do little. He slid deeper still. I cried through
my gag, wishing heÕd not go so fast, so hard.
WHACK! Suddenly I felt the crop anew upon my bottom. I shrieked. I
did not want that! But it was no use, I was like a bunny, caught up my its
feet, left to hang by the hunter, over a fire, roasting on a spit. As Tom
drove into me from the front, Petra smacked me hard on my behind. She
laughed. She explored my open anus with her finger between strokes. I
squeezed my cheeks, but they were so widely separated by my weight that
they drew open my little nether ring too. It was virgin, yet she managed
to pierce it with her finger. I felt the tip of her finger inside me, and her
fingernail. It was sharp. I was impaled. Both ways I was impaled, with a
gag in my mouth to keep me quiet.
ÒOh, too bad. We used up all the tea washing RobinÕs cock,Ó Bow said
somewhere behind me. ÒIÕm thirsty.Ó
ÒLetÕs drink champagne!Ó Bethany told her.
ÒYes! But we must get Petra to open the bottle for us,Ó Bow said.
ÒNo, girls. YouÕre too young,Ó Petra replied. She whacked my fanny
as she turned to speak to the girls. I yelped. Her wrist was unmerciful. I
waggled my hot bum, hoping Bethany might somehow save me. ÒKneel by
the faucet and drink from it, if you must,Ó Petra told the girls.
ÒI have to pee too,Ó Bow said.
ÒDo it in the bucket,Ó Petra said. ÒAlfonse will wash it out when
youÕre through. Wait,Ó she added. ÒHeÕs jacking himself right now.Ó
I gasped. Indeed, I saw, turning my head wildly, both Alfonse and
Rico were watching me, rubbing their pricks with their hands. They wore
condoms. They were hired help, not permitted to loose their loads
wherever they might wish.
ÒCan we suck on their tools?Ó Bow asked.
ÒNo, dear, you may not,Ó Petra answered. ÒBe good and sit down on
the table. Just sit still for a minute, would you?Ó
WHACK! She hit me again, hard, frustrated by the girls. I howled. I
wriggled my ass. I would be happy to sit still for her, if only she would
quit whipping me!
Tom reared forward. His cock was in me now, filling me, forcing me
to gasp with the first pangs of orgasm. I wriggled on his tool. How huge
it was! I felt like I had some big snake up within me. His cockhead
bumped the back of my womb, somewhere far up inside me. I screamed in
my gag. Was I happy? Did it hurt? I didnÕt know anymore. Behind me,
Petra wiggled her finger inside my virgin ass. She should not do that! I
was saving myself for a man, back there, not for a woman! But it was too
late, she was up me already. I felt her finger slide back, as if to
withdraw. Then, suddenly, she drove it up me again.
Tom was eager to discharge. He pulled back. With both relief and
regret I felt him remove his tool. But this was no porno film. Just as his
cockhead was about to pop out of me, he shoved it up inside me again.
ÒWHOOOOOO!Ó I cried out, from under my gag. Tom drove up me like a
freight train. My eyes bulged in my head. I wished I could kiss him,
suddenly, but the gag he himself had tied upon me prevented that. Yet,
somehow, I brushed his cheek with my split apart lips. The gag was
between them, not over them. I think he felt my attempt at a kiss and
appreciated it.
He didnÕt spare me, though. With lusty fury Tom began a series of
in-and-out motions. I had barely accomodated him when he would yank
himself back. Then, just as I got used to that, or was trying to, he would
shove himself up me again. Bow and Bethany crept close. They watched
me with avid eyes, watched Tom.
ÒHeÕs fucking her,Ó Bow told Bethany. My friend watched me, wide-
eyed, virginal in her appearance, though sheÕd tasted as much cock as I, at
MalthusÕs and then at RobinÕs. But she was 12, and still retained some
childish aspects to her. She touched her bare navel with one of her
fingers, inserted it, then drew her hand off her tummy, leaving just her
pokey finger, jabbing at her small bellybutton. Watching me, she seemed
to imitate what she was seeing, and she stabbed herself in her belly
repeatedly with her small finger.
ÒLetÕs fuck!Ó Bow told Bethany. Clearly Bow was ready for it, but
only with a girl, I realized. Men still scared her. The two of them kissed,
Bethany tilting her head down to meet the uplifting face of Bow, who was
shorter.
Petra glanced at them. ÒGirls--Ó she began. But with her finger up
me, she hardly was in a position to admonish their kissing. Bow drew
Bethany over to the table upon which Ginger had been tormented. Twisting
my head back, my eyes followed them, even as I cried in my gag at TomÕs
attacks on my person. I saw the two of them lie down on the table. The
plate had apparently been slid back into place, giving them a full table to
lie on, not one with a hole in it. Or perhaps the girls paused, closing the
plate just then, before lying down. I couldnÕt tell, for sure. Each forward
thrust of TomÕs hips sent him slamming inside me. My head twisted to
him, kissed his chest, then swivelled back once more, trying to see what
Beth and Bow were up to. Were they really going to do it? But how could
they? They were both girls!
At that point I lost my ability to see what others were doing. Last I
saw of them, Beth had accepted the underside position, since she was
heavier, lying down on the table first, with Bow, like a frisky husband,
helping her down, in order to hop atop her. My orgasm built to a crying
crescendo in my tummy. It made my thighs shiver. I shuddered all up and
down my spine. I felt wet between my legs, and knew IÕd be wetter still
soon, for Tom was groaning with my tightness, his big cock squeezed hard
by me, stretching me even as I ringed and clamped upon him.
ÒAhhhhh!Ó I cried. TomÕs voice joined mine. He grunted, I shrieked.
Behind us, Petra issued a scream of her own. She was diddling her slit,
sliding her finger up and down within herself. How wicked, I thought.
There was no need to frig yourself with all these randy men down here.
Alfonse or Rico might have enjoyed her, but she consigned them to
masturbating, and came off on her finger instead. With her other hand, she
violated my bottom.
Some distance away, I heard girlish screams. Bethany and Bow, I
mused, but I hardly cared to know anymore, for now my belly seemed
suddenly to burst. I rode hard on Tom, he jammed hard within me. I was
like something hung from heaven for him, split wide, gasping, a perfect
target for his cock that he now began shooting his sperm into. We became
one, he and I, despite the log, or perhaps because of it, for he drew my
bottom forward, using the log which suspended me by my knees to attack
my privates more directly. I was a strung-up bottom, an offered cunt. He
clasped me by my hips. I felt his broad hands upon my bottom, splitting
open my cheeks. Petra pumped her finger in my hole. I kissed TomÕs chest.
He bent down, kissed my forhead. I think he wished I didnÕt have my gag on
then, for we might have kissed quite deeply without it, as his head bent
lower, seeking my lips. But, tasting my gag with his tongue, he consoled
himself with kissing my nose.
It ended. Slowly but surely, like a balloon gradually losing its air,
our orgasm subsided. I donÕt know if we had just one together, or more.
However many it was, the time came when the last one had gone shouting
through us, leaving us wet, panting, conscious of new things now.
I had to pee. I was sleepy. I smelled TomÕs aftershave and decided I
didnÕt quite like it as much as RobinÕs. My bottom hurt. I felt angry at
Petra for deflowering my hole without my permission, for whacking me
there so hard with her riding crop. Tom had brought her the crop.
My wrists were unfastened. Tom did the work. Petra retreated to
the couch, sat down, ordered tea. The maid told her the teapot was empty.
The girls had spilled tea all over RobinÕs dick to wash it.
ÒChampagne, then,Ó I heard Petra say.
I groaned. Tom walked round behind me. He unfastened my knees.
Gently as he could, he drew me backward. I was pulled from the log. My
feet kicked. My boots protected my legs and feet from being scraped by
the logÕs hard, splitered surface.
Cupping my bottom, Tom set me down on the floor. My legs wobbled
beneath me. Gradually I felt my stance strengthen. Tom held me until I
could stand on my own. I tossed my head. He kissed my face. Gently his
fingerÕs undid the gag at the back of my head.
ÒI have to pee,Ó I told Tom frankly, as soon as my gag was loosed. He
led me over to the bucket. ÒKneel,Ó he told me. I squatted over the bucket.
It was dented. Clean, though, for the Mexican servants rinsed it
thoroughly after anyone peed into it.
Tom cupped my under my arms. My bosoms hung from my chest. My
nipples were hard, but softening a little, for I was tired now. The night
had been long.
I loosed my pee. My bladder emptied itself through my cuntlips. I
let my head fall back. It came to rest against TomÕs strong thighs. I
looked up, sleepily. His penis hung above my lips. I saw a drop of cum
there, too slow to join its fellows in my womb. I stuck out my tongue. I
licked at it. It tasted rather like Robin did, or one of the other men IÕd
met, on my adventure. I both liked the taste and didnÕt like it. It was
male, I was female. It both attracted and repelled me. I was only 13.
ÒYeek!Ó I heard from not far off in our cell. I jerked my head up.
Still peeing, I saw Beth and Bow. They were doing the 69. Bow on top,
Beth underneath. Bow was getting her first fucking, I saw, courtesy of
BethÕs tongue. Did it count? I wasnÕt sure. It was something, and it was
being pushed up inside her, but whether Beth pushed hard enough to break
her hymen, I didnÕt know. It didnÕt look like she was. I saw no blood. She
was teasing little Bow, and being teased by her. I would have taken a crop
to them both, for doing that. All girls knew that was naught. But I was
too tired, and Petra seemed not to care. The maid attended to Petra,
serving her champagne, not minding the girls. Robin had stretched out on
one of the couches, exhausted. He had danced well at the nightclub, better
than all the other men. He was worn out now. His sperm was inside
BethanyÕs belly.
ÒOoooch! Oooooch! Deeper! Go deeper!Ó Bow hollared at Bethany.
She had her face down between the girlÕs thighs. Her own bottom rotated,
as Bethany stabbed at it with her tongue. It looked like a small ball,
balanced and spinning and jiggling above BethÕs face. Beth lifted her head
a little. She focused her efforts, delved into BowÕs cunt. ÒYEEEEEECH!Ó I
heard Bow scream. But instead of leaping off her attacker, she bent her
own head lower, and made Beth issue a scream as her own tongue plunged
into BethÕs cunny.
I could do nothing to stop them. I was pooped, too tired even to get
up off the bucket. Tom had to lift me. When I was standing again,
supported by him, I turned to face him. We kissed. I shut out the rest of
the world, with all its strangeness, its wickedness, and concentrated just
on the feel of his lips, and the press of his equipment between my legs.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Next,
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION Need a book? http://www.amazon.com