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Will Wendy lose her panties in the House of Fear?
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
HOUSE OF FEAR
Chapter One
She was dressing to be undressed. She knew this instinctively,
though no one had told her. The thought troubled her. A month ago her
boyfriend had coaxed her out of her virginity and now he was luring her
away, explaining that he needed a vacation and wanted her to come along.
What would her parents think? She was 16, her curves just
developing. He was older. He told her he was 22 and he looked it, but she
wondered. Some of his friends looked well past 22.
Adjusting her panties on her hips, she looked at herself in her
mirror. She liked the frilled look of her panties waistband and leg holes.
It made her look delicate, more than she already looked, with her child-
thin arms and legs, her slender waist, her breasts just filling out and her
hips needing to broaden more before she could bear children. She turned
around. She examined her bottom in the mirror. It was high and round, she
noted. He told her she still had a little girlÕs bottom, fat-cheeked and
saucy, but lacking the fulsome swell of womanly hips. She turned to face
the mirror again and cupped her breasts with her hands. Somehow she
knew they would not be alone, herself and her boyfriend. He had said they
would be staying with friends and she had dreamed it last night, had
dreamed, unbidden, herself being enticed out of her clothes, or perhaps
treated roughly, as in another part of her dream, ordered out of her
clothes...
Wendy shivered. She watched as her nipples rose. Quickly she
hurried to her underclothes drawer and drew out a bra. She slipped it on.
She covered her traitorously erect nipples. Then she put her hands to her
panties and tugged on them, looking down over her lace-covered breasts at
her pussy. No, her panties did not feel wet, between her legs. Thank God.
She did not have another pair of the frilled panties and she did not want to
spoil them by wetting them.
Still feeling the tremblings of excitement, Wendy finished dressing.
She put on a skirt. It was salaciously short, but her boyfriend had said he
wanted to see her in it. She sat down on her bed and pulled on long white
stockings. She looked at herself in her mirror again. She sighed. The
stockings helped. They covered the nudity of her long legs but
unfortunately they did not go all the way up her thighs, leaving the tops of
her thighs bare. She pulled at the hem of her skirt. No, it wouldnÕt go any
lower. She whirled about and watched as her skirt lifted, showing her
pantied bottom. Quickly she put on a blouse, but of course it did nothing to
save her ass, and she sighed again as she looked at herself once more in
the mirror, a slender young woman with prominent breasts and long legs
that seemed to reach all the way up to her belly. The skirt was nothing, a
bit of fabric that amounted to little more than a decoration. She whirled
again and watched once more as her skirt floated up to show off her pretty
ass.
She put on white gloves. Her boyfriend had not asked her to wear
them but she liked them. If she couldnÕt cover her bottom properly
perhaps she could cover her hands. She stroked her face with a gloved
hand. He had been rough with her once, when sheÕd disobeyed him, wearing
jeans instead of a skirt. He had hit her face, bruising her cheek. She had
explained it to her parents by saying that she had fallen.
Did her parents suspect that her story was a lie? That she wouldnÕt
be spending Spring Break at the beach, with her two girlfriends, but would
instead be going off with her boyfriend? Well, they had said she could go,
whatever their suspicions. She sighed. A part of her wished they had been
more suspicious.
An hour later she was riding with her boyfriend in his car. Casually
he reached over to her, reached between her legs.
ÒDonÕt!Ó she gasped. She felt herself wettening. His fingers were
intrusive. He looked at her.
ÒI popped you,Ó he said. His face was swarthy. His shoulders were
broad. His jaw was firm-set, brooking no disobedience.
ÒSo?Ó Wendy gasped.
ÒSo I feel I have certain rights,Ó he answered. ÒYour slit intrigues
me. Nice panties. I like how soft they feel.Ó
ÒJed-- please!Ó Wendy breathed. She felt herself grow wetter. ÒYou
ordered me not-- not to pack anything. Maybe youÕre going to buy things
for me but I would prefer not to spoil these panties until you do-oooo-oo!Ó
Her sentence ended in a moan.
Outside it was raining. The rain had come up suddenly, as the road
they were on wound into the mountains. She wondered if he had packed an
umbrella.
ÒYes,Ó he said, seemingly reading her thoughts. ÒDo you think I
would let my little pet get wet?Ó
ÒYou are right now!Ó she gasped.
He took his hand from her and put it again to the wheel as he rounded
a curve. They sped past a sheer cliff face, the slope of the mountain
suddenly vertical. She looked out her side window. She saw a precipitous
drop beyond the edge of the road.
He put his hand to her once again. She squirmed. She closed her legs
on him but he dug deeper, pushing apart her cuntlips and driving in one of
his fingers. Only her panties saved her. He did not try to dislodge them.
He seemed to savor the net of soft fabric that they provided, keeping his
finger back, keeping him from finger-fucking her right here in his car.
ÒWhen we arrive,Ó he said casually, his finger partway in her, ÒI am
going to have you take off your skirt.Ó
ÒNo!Ó she gasped. ÒJed, I--Ó
The curve ended. They were back on a road curving between stands
of trees.
ÒYes,Ó he insisted. ÒYou will take off your skirt and be seen in your
panties. It is the very first thing you will do, when you arrive.Ó
ÒMy panties are wet!Ó she hissed, feeling him probe inside her. They
drove on, herself watching the straight, tall trees by the side of the road
as she felt his finger intrude in her slit. Finally, her breath catching in
her throat, she asked, ÒHow- how many of your f-friends will be there?Ó
ÒAh! Yes,Ó Jed said. A truck passed them. The roar of its passing,
on the tree-lined narrow road, made her shiver. ÒThere will be perhaps a
dozen of us,Ó Jed said. ÒMale and female. WeÕll be staying a week. ItÕs a
big old stone place. An older guy owns it. HeÕs about 50. HeÕll be there, of
course, along with his 21-year-old wife.Ó
ÒJed I--Ó Wendy felt herself growing faint. She didnÕt want to spend
Spring Break with so many people, especially if they were more than
twice her age! What was he getting her into?
Jed drew away his hand. She was grateful. But at the same time,
despite her misgivings as to their destination, she was disappointed. He
had taken her far down the road of desire. Impulsively, as she felt his
hand leave her, she pushed forward her hips. She spread her legs. She
offered, and looked at him longingly.
ÒThatÕs enough,Ó Jed said.
ÒOh!Ó Wendy gasped. She realized the display she was making of
herself. She sat back in her seat and closed her legs.
ÒYou have a nice pussy,Ó Jed smiled at her. ÒNice and wet.Ó
They arrived at the place Jed had spoken of. It loomed in the trees,
surrounded by them, an old pile of stone, house-shaped, in the forest. He
pulled close to the structure. He stopped the car and got out. It was
drizzling and he got an umbrella out of the trunk. He came around to her
side of the car and opened the umbrella, then her side door, and she got
out. The umbrella shielded her from the rain.
ÒTake off your skirt,Ó he said.
ÒWhat?Ó she gasped. The air felt chilly. She smelled pine, heard the
rain as it fell down among the tree branches over their heads.
ÒYou heard me,Ó he ordered. She looked down. She was standing on
wet leaves. He nudged her in her ribs. She reached back behind herself
and, blushing, looking at him imploringly, she unzipped her skirt. She
hesitated, holding its separated halves aloft with her hands. He nodded.
His face looked severe. She let her skirt drop down her legs, holding it,
skimming it down her thighs and over her knees and down past her calves.
She stepped out of it, carefully, not wanting to brush the wet soles of her
shoes against the inside of her skirt.
ÒLeave it in the car,Ó he said. He reached over and re-opened the car
door. She bit her lip. Her legs felt chilly, despite her white stockings, for
the tops of her thighs were bare. She bent. She tossed her skirt onto the
seat sheÕd been sitting on. She looked down at herself and saw, to her
mortification, that she was still wet between her legs. The lowest part
of her pubis showed within the wet cupping crotch of her panties. She
could see the twin lips of her slit, clearly outlined in the fabric.
ÒYou have pretty panties,Ó he said, admiringly. She tugged nervously
on her blouse. But its hem was too short to cover her hips, her bottom, her
too-visible pussy within her undies. She would be seen like this, by his
friends, gloved and in long white stockings, with a blouse on but no skirt,
her frilled panties on view to all, her pussy showing wetly within them.
She shivered. He took her gloved hand. For the first time he noticed that
she was wearing gloves.
ÒI didnÕt tell you to wear these,Ó he said.
ÒI- I wanted to,Ó she answered.
ÒI should slap you for wearing them,Ó he told her. She shivered and
looked at him meekly.
They walked inbetween the trees. They came to a stone path and
followed it. The stones were flat, easy to walk on, but wet from the rain.
Her hard-soled shoes slipped. He caught her. Nervously she asked him, as
he held the umbrella studiously over her head, whether they would be
given a room of their own.
ÒOf our own?Ó he laughed. ÒYou mean, you and I together, our door
shut and our privacy ensured?Ó She nodded. His grin broadened. ÒNo,Ó he
said. ÒWe will not be given a room of our own.Ó
ÒBut--Ó her voice caught in her throat. With difficulty she managed
to continue, clasping his hand more tightly, feeling him respond. ÒBut
where will we sleep? Where will we--Ó She could not say more.
ÒFuck?Ó he laughed. She bit her lip again, nearly making it bleed. He
reached over and eased his finger into her mouth. She bit it, briefly. Then
she let him go. She closed her lips. He let his hand swing once more by
his side.
They walked up a short flight of stone steps. They arrived at the
door. He told her to knock. Obediently she reached up and clasped a big
knocker. It was made of brass. He admired the curve of her back, the
swell of her bottom, the brevity of her panties. He could see the upper
half of her ass crack, bare and vulnerable between her white cheeks. He
wanted to stick something in it. He touched his finger to it.
ÒDonÕt!Ó she gasped. She let go of the knocker. With a booming sound
it echoed around them, in the trees, in the house. She reached back
protectively to her ass and brushed away his hand. The front door of the
house opened.
ÒWell hello,Ó a female voice said. Anxiously Wendy found herself
staring into the face of a woman. She was taller. Wendy had to look up to
gaze into her eyes. She felt like a wet kitten looking up into the face of a
mother cat.
The woman had long brown hair, as long and brown as WendyÕs was
long and blonde. Wendy had tied her hair into two long pigtails but the
womanÕs was free, cascading down her back and even falling down her
front, down to the level of her belly. The womanÕs eyes danced as she saw
Wendy wore only panties, without a skirt. She glanced at the girlÕs white
gloves. ÒMy. You have come both adorned, and unadorned,Ó the woman said.
ÒHow nice. Please do come in.Ó The woman flashed a quick smile at Jed.
It was knowing, conspiratorial. Wendy felt Jed push her from behind. She
was ushered inside, having little say in the matter, JedÕs palm on her
bottom and the woman, taking her hand, leading her from in front.
The door was shut. It was warmer inside. Wendy, still feeling the
chill of the outdoor air on her skin, was grateful. Jed took his hand from
her fanny. He closed his umbrella. Wendy looked around, the older woman
letting go of her hand.
There were a dozen people. They smiled at her. To WendyÕs blushing
surprise, none of the other women were stripped to their panties. Some
wore jeans, others short skirts, still others dresses, but none of them
were making the spectacle she now made, with her hair in pigtails, her
hands gloved, her legs stockinged but without any skirt on, showing her
panties and, worse, showing off the wetness of her crotch. Wendy
retreated behind the big figure of her boyfriend. Her cheeks felt red. She
wanted to disappear into the floor.
ÒHey!Ó Jed said. He pulled Wendy out from behind himself. He
gripped her by her small shoulders. He faced her front and center, toward
their new friends.
ÒOh my! You are so pretty!Ó a woman said. She had long red hair, in
an abundance of curls. She looked mid-20Õs. Her beauty was in full bloom.
She had large breasts, covered by a frilled blouse and a leather vest. She
wore a short leather skirt that swung as she walked. She stepped
forward. She handed Wendy a drink. Her face was nonchalant. She
welcomed Wendy as if greeting one of her own.
Wendy accepted the drink. She sipped it. It tasted of cherries. She
felt her anxiety start draining away. They did not laugh at her in her
panties. They kept their admiration discreet.
An interval obtained, in which Jed, letting Wendy go her own way,
talked with the men, while Wendy, forgetting her panties, found herself
engrossed in small talk with the women. Some were almost her age, 17
and 19. The woman of the house, Melinda, was 21. The woman with red
hair, who had offered her such a delicious drink, was 24. Her name was
Anna.
When Wendy had met the women, Melinda ushered her over to the
men. They lounged around the living roomÕs wet bar.
ÒGentlemen, this is Wendy,Ó Melinda told the men. The males
greeted her with smiles. One of them gave Jed a knowing look. Wendy,
conscious again of her panties, stammered as she tried to speak.
ÒH- how do you do?Ó Wendy asked. She gave a brief curtsey.
ÒShe is well trained,Ó a man remarked.
30
(To be continued.)
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