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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
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Chapter Ten
Outside, beyond the confines of the house, the waves crashed against
the shoreline. To reach the island, as I learned later, you had to guide your
boat carefully into the one harbor where access was possible. That was
one reason why the island wound up in the hands of one man; it had been
regarded as useless, uninhabitable, until he found the one place where a
boat might safely moor. Then, using his own money, after buying the
island from a speculator, he widened the access point just enough so that
his own craft could slip ashore, guided by his own experienced hands.
Now I myself was below the level of the sea beyond, down in a
basement. It was hewn from the hard rock that composed the island. The
weight of the house stood above me, around me, imprisoning me in its
depths. And within this sanctuary from the sea, I stood stark naked. I
flicked the whip I held against my auntÕs nude, agonized bottom. She ran
with panting breaths upon the treadmill, shrieking at every mark I made
upon her fanny. I painted her bottom a cruel red with the whipÕs sharp
tail.
Beyond, bouncing on the bench where my boyfriend lay, could be seen
the twin lovely white bottoms of Chrissy and Pauline. ChrissyÕs faced me
directly. PaulineÕs could be seen with a glance at a cleverly placed mirror.
Both women huffed and puffed as they used my boyfriend to bring
themselves to orgasm. His tongue pierced Pauline deeply in her cunt. His
penis, rock hard as the walls which enclosed us, thrust much more deeply
into the cunny of Chrissy. Both womenÕs long hair bounced and tumbled on
their shoulders and backs as they worked themselves into a frenzy upon
my boyfriendÕs jutting organ and tongue. I wanted to rescue Brad, he
seemed so used by the women, as if he were just an object. I wanted to
run over to where they were sitting on him, using him like some obscene
bench, equipped for their pleasure, and use my whip on their fannies. But I
could not. John, the man who bought and built this island, watched my
every move. With his dark hands he regulated the tempo at which my aunt
had to run. He adjusted the treadmillÕs speed, making her run faster or
slower. He called out to me to whip her when he felt I was dawdling. And
if he felt I was whipping her too quickly, not giving her time to savor each
stroke as I applied it, he commanded me to slow down.
Steve watched his wife fuck my boyfriend. He frisked his long penis,
hating seeing her pleasure herself on another man, and yet excited by it.
Perhaps thatÕs why theyÕd chosen to come, to test themselves. To test
their love for each other by participating in a party where everyone had to
fuck everyone else.
ÒMmmmfff!Ó my aunt begged over the bit that was jammed into her
mouth. I couldnÕt make out what she was saying. John, however,
apparently could, for he replied,
ÒYou will be permitted to get off the treadmill, white girl, when you
have filled up this bag with pee.Ó A long plastic catheter ran from a bag
lying on a table up between my auntÕs legs. It penetrated her urethra and
trailed all the way up into her bladder. There, a small inflated bag of air
kept it in place inside her bladder, while permitting an open-mouthed tube
to receive her pee and communicate it down the long catheter into the
receptacle bag on the table. It was a bag just like one wears after
surgery, except my aunt had needed no surgery. John had thrust the bag up
between her healthy young legs to add to her torture.
I watched with horrified eyes as my aunt, her bottom flayed,
suddenly released a stream of yellow urine down the clear plastic tube
and deposited it on the table. It sloshed in the yellow bag lying on the
table, rocked by the rhythm of her running legs. Rebecca looked down at
the contents of her bladder, now displayed for all to see upon the table.
Her bare bosoms jostled on her chest. Her flat tummy drew in with fright.
Her ribs stuck out along her sides, looking succulent, as if she might be
barbecued. We would eat her after her run, savoring the bits of flesh that
clung to her well-cooked ribs.
I shivered. I was a prisoner, and yet I was tasked with tormenting
my aunt. I let the whip fly again, hurting her bottom, making her shriek. I
was getting the hang of it. I could make the whip strike her fanny while
avoiding her thighs, leaving them unmarked so we could enjoy their tanned
beauty, even as I turned her poor bottom into a mass of red-ribboned
welts. Her back, too I managed to avoid, concentrating solely on her ass.
It was so soft, so tender and lovely, the skin white where I had not struck
it (hardly anyplace now). The bottom was the seat of a femaleÕs beauty, I
thought. While the back and the legs might go uncovered, the bottom
remained covered always, except for a lover. Then it was revealed and,
like the cunt, given over to the lover for his own private pleasure. Now,
though, my poor aunt had been deprived of her privacy in that special
place. Her cunt was visibly moist and John, guiding her steps, could peer
at it between her running legs with abandon. And her bottom was at my
mercy.
I was no better off. I was nude, like my aunt. I wore a dog collar
around my neck and, incongruously, a short bib also, with Tweety Bird on
it. The bib though was too little to cover my bosoms, which hung freely
beneath it, the perkiness of my nipples showing my excitement and easily
seen by anyone. My tummy stretched between my breasts and my cunt,
tight and scared. My legs stood slightly apart, showing my pussy. Behind
me, my bottom huddled against the chill of the room, shivering with the
prospect of being whipped by my aunt. John had promised that I would
whip her, and then she would whip me.
ÒOooh! I have to go to the bathroom too!Ó I told John. My voice felt
abject. I disliked having to tell him my needs, but IÕd drank too much at
dinner and now I could feel it sloshing around in my tummy whenever I
swung the whip. I put my hand to my pussy. John looked past my aunt and
regarded me.
ÒThere is no toilet down here,Ó he told me. ÒBut I have a second
bag,Ó he said. He lifted up an empty bag and showed it to me. ÒAs soon as
sheÕs finished, IÕll put you on the treadmill. IÕll thread the bag up between
your legs and you can pee while youÕre running, just like she is.Ó
I trembled. I rubbed my cunt briskly with my fingers.
ÒOooooh! I donÕt want to pee into that awful bag!Ó I told John. And I
could hear PaulineÕs voice, inside my head, in response, though in reality
she was swooning at this moment upon my boyfriendÕs face, and incapable
of speech: ÒThatÕs the purpose of our party. To try new things, to
challenge ourselves.Ó But I still didnÕt want to wear a wicked bag, and
have to pee in it.
ÒWhip your aunt,Ó John ordered me. ÒGive her another stroke, or itÕll
be worse for you when itÕs your turn.Ó
ÒOh, noooo!Ó I cried. My voice was sorrowful. But I let the whip sing
across my auntÕs fanny again, scoring her anew. She shouted, she ran with
quick steps. She wanted to reach back and protect herself with her hands,
but they were cruelly bound above her head with leather restraints.
No other man, not even my boyfriend, could have put me in this
predicament, I told myself. But John was black, huge, with a 12-inch-
penis. He had rippling muscles and implacable dark eyes. What he
commanded, he got. And in his case, he loved nothing more than finding
white girls like me and my aunt and making us be his slaves. Technically,
it was still just a party. We were celebrating ourselves and each other.
We were here by choice. But in reality, there was no way to leave. Not
without JohnÕs permission. We were here for the duration, until he got
bored with us. Only he could guide us back home on his boat. Only he could
command with authority the dogs who roamed the island. We would do his
bidding for several days yet, suffering or not, as he chose. He would judge
our performance and punish or reward us according to how well we obeyed.
ÒWhip harder!Ó Pauline called gleefully from across the room. She
was in the throes of ecstasy now. She bounced on my boyfriendÕs face and
watched me with half-lidded eyes. Chrissy, her ass facing me, even
deigned to give me orders.
ÒYes, harder!Ó Chrissy cried with delight. She shrieked as my
boyfriendÕs penis, thrusting up inside her, took her over the edge. They
were wanton, Pauline and Chrissy. They were brazen with lust and loving
every tortuous thing they could do to my poor boyfriend. They clutched at
him with their legs. They worked their hips upon him as if he were some
exercise machine, like the other machines down here, built to order, made
to fuck. Steve, watching, loosed his sperm suddenly, spewing it into
PaulineÕs hair. She turned. She grabbed at his cock with her open mouth.
She caught his big thing between her teeth, and sucked on him, biting him
and making him wince. He groaned. My boyfriend, both women sitting on
him, called out some obscene phrase. Then, with a shudder, he fired his
sperm up into ChrissyÕs womb. I couldnÕt see it directly but the lewd
woman called out to all of us that Brad was fucking her.
ÒOooh! HeÕs giving it to me! HeÕs sperming me!Ó ChrissyÕs high-
pitched voice cried with frantic delight. Pauline, hearing it, jammed her
crotch down more fully on BradÕs face. It was as if she, seeing her friend
getting spermed between her legs by BradÕs cock, expected him to perform
the same jetting feat with his tongue. In the event it was Steve who
spermed her, filling her mouth with his seed as my boyfriendÕs tongue
wedged deeply into her cunt.
ÒOh! I have to pee!Ó I said insistently to John. I rubbed my fleecy
cunt harder. I did have to go, but I wanted to cum too, and I hoped I could
use the cover of needing to pee to masturbate myself to my own orgasm.
My aunt, her arms strung up above her head, ran with a frantic motion. I
supposed she too wished she could frig herself, make herself cum, in
unison with the others. John, casually stroking his cock, suddenly spurted
cum all over my auntÕs belly.
ÒAhhh, thatÕs better,Ó John remarked to himself. My aunt looked
down at herself and the mess heÕd made. ÒWhatÕs the matter, bitch? DonÕt
you like having a black manÕs sperm on you?Ó John asked. He laughed. ÒI
should have made you get off the treadmill and pumped it up between your
legs.Ó
ÒWe donÕt want any niggerÕs sperm,Ó I told John. He glared at me.
ÒYouÕll get more than a cuntfull of sperm from me, little girl,Ó he
said.
ÒIÕm too young. And your penis is too big, nigger,Ó I said to him. It
was true, too. I was only 13 and he was, like, over 20, too old for me even
to count. I could count the numbers, of course, any girl could do that, but I
had no idea what it was really like to be that old. Fourteen seemed a long
ways off to me. I wouldnÕt be that age until December. Twenty, or
however much over 20 John was, seemed an impossible age to understand.
It didnÕt stop him from glaring at me, though, knowing I was still little
and probably couldnÕt take him up between my legs even if IÕd wanted to.
ÒJust wait, bitch,Ó John said to me. He finished rubbing himself and
spurting his sperm all over my auntÕs belly. White stuff dripped down
between her legs and drooled off her crotch, as if she herself were a man,
but it was all JohnÕs sperm that now dripped down between her running
legs on to the moving treadmill.
ÒAhhh,Ó Chrissy said, across the room, receiving the last thrusts of
my boyfriendÕs cock. Pauline sighed with delight.
ÒGod, that felt good,Ó Steve admitted. He pumped himself into
PaulineÕs lips, savoring the chance to rid himself of his load of sperm.
WeÕd played for so long. At last some of us were getting what weÕd cum
for.
Except me, of course, and my poor aunt, running on the treadmill. I
rubbed my slit with increasing urgency. I had to pee, but I needed
something else too. I wasnÕt sure how IÕd get it now, with all three men
having just spent themselves, but it didnÕt stop me from trying anyway.
ÒYouÕre just a big, black nigger!Ó I told John. I looked at him with a
frankness that spoke volumes. I didnÕt just want to tease anymore. I
wanted to be taken. I was desperate for him to jump on me and grab me
and do to me what my boyfriend had just been forced to do to Pauline and
Chrissy.
ÒThatÕs it!Ó John swore. He let go of his cock and grabbed the
slender catheter that ran up between my auntÕs legs. He turned off the
treadmill. My aunt gasped and clung to the bar over her head. The
treadmill slowed, stopped. My aunt panted with relief. As I watched,
mesmerized, John carefully removed the catheter from my auntÕs body. He
pinched it off with a plastic clip so that her pee, collected in the bag on
the table, wouldnÕt run out onto the floor. Then he stood up. He unfastened
my auntÕs hands. With a whoosh of relief my aunt collapsed over the front
of the treadmill, where the controls for it lay. The treadmill started
again, by accident, but it trundled along at a slow speed, and she walked
on it, breathing deep and hard as her body recovered from its exertion.
ÒEEEEEk!Ó I yelled. John, checking that my aunt was okay, turned to
me. ÒNo! IÕm sorry!Ó I cried. He darted at me. I swung my whip at him,
but it was like trying to defend yourself with a whip against a charging
rhinoceros. The whip bit his shoulder. He ignored it. A moment later heÕd
scooped me up off the floor and was glaring into my eyes as I wiggled in
his arms. Like a dolt, I dropped the whip, leaving myself defenseless.
ÒNow I have you, white girl,Ó John said to me.
ÒOook! IÕm very, very sorry I called you a nigger, sir,Ó I said to him
in all honesty. He glanced at my bare bosoms, wobbling like stiff-nippled
jello on my chest.
ÒChloe, IÕm going to set you down on the floor and IÕm going to put a
catheter up between your legs, just like I did to your aunt,Ó John said to
me. His voice was surprisingly gently. I felt the steel of his muscled
arms cradling me and suddenly wanted very much to comply.
ÒYes, sir,Ó I said. I shivered. ÒMust you whip me too?Ó
ÒA little,Ó John said, again amazing me with how gentle his voice
was. ÒBut just on your bottom.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I said. My assent came out all lispy, as if this was, in fact,
what IÕd been waiting for, but was too scared to admit to myself. John set
me down on my bare feet. Openly he admired my small, nude 13-year-old
body. ÒI really do have to go to the bathroom,Ó I told him, wiggling my
hips.
ÒI know,Ó John said. ÒLet me get the catheter and run it up between
your legs and then you can pee all you want.Ó He drew me over to the
treadmill. My aunt stepped down off it. Her face was flushed. Her bottom
was even redder than her face and she clutched at it ruefully. She gazed
at me, accusingly, but too weary to say anything. I gulped. I averted my
eyes from hers. John reached over to the table where a fresh bag waited
and picked up the coil of a catheter that was attached to it. He unravelled
the tubing. Then he greased the end of it with lubricant and, turning to
me, cradled me where I stood with an arm placed around my hips. I felt
wanted, needed. I put a finger in my mouth and contemplated the catheter.
Its tip was shiny with oil. ÒNow I must put this up you,Ó John told me.
Our eyes met. I smiled, slightly. I sucked hard on my finger. He pushed
the catheter up between my legs.
ÒOoohh! It hoits!Ó I cried.
ÒShhhh, it just feels uncomfortable,Ó John told me. Then, wickedly,
he drew the end of the catheter back out of me. ÒIÕd love to fuck your pee
hole with this,Ó he said.
ÒOh, donÕt!Ó I gasped.
ÒYes, IÕll put it in and out,Ó John said. ÒWatch. I can make you pee in
the bag the minute I slide the catheter up and breach your bladder. And,
when I pull the cath back down, the sphincter at the base of your bladder
will close, automatically. Unless you will yourself to keep peeing, of
course, or canÕt bring yourself to stop.Ó
ÒEEEchchch!Ó I said, gritting my teeth, for already he was
introducing the catheter into me again, sliding its lubed tip up, my aunt
giggling now, watching me from behind, savoring the sight of my white
bare huddling ass cheeks, soon to be whipped by her own hand.
Up, up, up went the catheter, sliding up between my legs like some
narrow male penis. At last I felt the wicked thing poke into my bladder.
My pee immediately began racing from my bladder down the tubing, along
its length and into the bag on the table.
John pulled the catheter down. I fought to restrain myself and my
pee stopped.
ÒYes. Now up again,Ó John said. But instead he pulled the catheter
down. He removed it from me. Impulsively he kissed my pussy with his
lips. His big, broad-lipped mouth sucked upon the lips of my slit with
animal relish. ÒGod, you have such a small, tight little hole,Ó John
murmured.
I could control myself no more. JohnÕs tickling lips sent me over the
edge. The pee IÕd fought so hard to retain suddenly burst from between my
legs.
ÒOh! IÕm peeing on you!Ó I confessed in a frantic voice to John. He
hardly needed to hear me say it. My yellow urine spouted out onto his
face, drenching him. I thrust my fingers between my legs, trying to stop
it, yet in the end spreading my cunt with relief so I could pee it all out on
his face, reluctant though I was to do so. ÒIÕm sorry, nigger,Ó I said to
him. Then, gasping, I added, ÒOoops! I didnÕt mean to call you a nigger.Ó
John froze between my legs. It was like, he hated what I was doing
to him, and he was shocked, but at the same time he was also perversely
delighted. He let my pee run down over his swarthy, handsome features.
For a moment his lips held firm to my cunt. Then he began kissing me
again, even as I peed all over his big black face. You can imagine the sight
of it: my white, thin, 13-year-old legs, forcibly separated by his big black
head, and me wetting all over his slave-like face.
John stood up. As he stood, strangely, he kissed my bare belly. One
kiss, as if to thank me for what IÕd done to him, before he had to re-
assume his role of Master, and punish me for it. He rose like a giant over
me and he looked down upon me. I lifted my eyes guiltily.
ÒChloe, IÕm going to have to punish you for what you just did to me,Ó
John said to me in his amazingly gentle voice.
ÒOh, please donÕt,Ó I begged.
ÒI canÕt let you tell all your friends that you peed on me,Ó John said.
ÒOh, I wonÕt! Anyways all my friends are in America!Ó I said. ÒItÕs a
long ways from France to America!Ó John shook his head Ôno.Õ
ÒYouÕll tell your girlfriends, sooner or later, what you did to me. A
white girl, to a black man,Ó John said. ÒAnd theyÕll all laugh, unless--
unless youÕre forced to tell them how the story ended.Ó
ÒIt doesnÕt need to have an ending, does it?Ó I gasped. He put his big,
rough hand down between my legs and rubbed my pussy.
ÒYes it does,Ó John said. ÒYes it does.Ó He turned to his wife. She
was detaching herself from my boyfriendÕs tongue. She rose from the
bench where he lay prostrate, on his back. Chrissy, having satisfied
herself on his erection, got up off it. Both women walked away from Brad,
leaving him to collect his thoughts and to regain his composure. Brad lay
unmoving. His penis, once stiff, gradually declined in size until it lay used
and spent between his legs, no harder than a dishrag.
ÒCome on, weÕll take her upstairs. We have to go pee,Ó Pauline said
to her husband.
ÒGive her and and her aunt over to the white slave boys,Ó John said.
ÒTie them side by side in a bed and let the two slave boys with the
emeralds in their dicks mount them and take them however they please for
the night.Ó He looked at my auntÕs bottom. ÒAnd sheÕll need someone to
tend to her ass, also. In the morning, IÕll see to ChloeÕs hiney. She will be
punished for peeing in my face, and calling me a nigger.Ó
ÒYes, honey,Ó Pauline said to her husband.
ÒOh, donÕt be too hard on her!Ó Chrissy said.
ÒShe was messy at dinner, and she called my husband a nigger time
and again,Ó Pauline said. ÒIn the morning we will entertain ourselves with
her punishment.Ó
ÒOh, and weÕre going to carry each otherÕs children. DonÕt forget!Ó
Chrissy said. She looked at JohnÕs penis.
ÒYes,Ó Pauline agreed. ÒWe shall do that also. Skip taking your pill
in the morning, when you get up. Come, IÕll show you and your husband to
your bedroom.Ó She looked at my boyfriend, lying upon the bench. ÒUnless,
that is, you prefer spending the night with him.Ó
ÒOh, he was wonderful,Ó Chrissy said. ÒBut IÕd like to fall asleep in
the arms of my husband.Ó
ÒVery well. Come, then,Ó Pauline said. Together, both women took
hold of my aunt. They tutted over the state of her bottom, pitying her in a
pitiless way, and walked her toward the steps. Chrissy grabbed my hand
and pulled me along with them.
ÒOh, I donÕt want to go! I want to cum!Ó I said. I frisked my crotch
with my hand. I was quite eager for it now, though I hated admitting it to
myself.
ÒYou shall be taken care of upstairs,Ó Pauline said.
ÒI want him!Ó I said, pointing to her husband. ÒI want to be fucked
my him!Ó I donÕt know why I said it. Did the challenge of being fucked by a
big black man, with his 12-inch penis, tempt me beyond the limits of my
good sense? I donÕt know. But I do know one thing-- threatened with
punishment that seemed absolutely certain to befall me, I didnÕt call him a
nigger anymore.
Upstairs, the two white slave boys were made to fuck me and my
aunt until we screamed for them to stop.
The next morning, as the sun rose, I was bathed and prepared. I was
offered breakfast on a silver tray, by my bedside, but I declined. My aunt
was escorted to another room so that I couldnÕt turn to her for solace as I
was readied for my punishment. The slave boys who had used me so
remorselessly during the night were the ones who made me ready for my
ordeal. They wore emerald jewels in their cocks once more, their faces
were subdued. They put my makeup on. They brushed my hair. They
painted, with delicate grace, my fingernails and my toenails.
During the night the twin slave boys had lorded themselves over me.
They were the Masters of my bed. Fucking me, fucking my aunt. Now they
were submissive once more. But, despite their gentle, coaxing hands, they
were firm with me. When I tried to speak, they ordered me to be quiet.
They made it clear IÕd be gagged if I couldnÕt keep my mouth shut on my
own. When I tried to move, without their permission, they told me they
had full authority to whip me themselves, right here in my bedroom, if I
couldnÕt find it in myself to obey.
I was very obedient, once they showed me the many-thonged whip
John had given them, to enforce my compliance. I let them make me up
like a doll and dress me in provocative clothes. Then, after offering me
breakfast once more, they took me downstairs.
ÒShe refuses to eat, Master,Ó the slaves said to John, who was
eating downstairs at the dining table. He wore purple robes, like a king.
Pauline and Chrissy and Brad and Steve sat with him. My aunt, it was said,
was lying face down in a room of her own, her bottom recovering from the
whipping IÕd given her.
ÒShe is frightened, thatÕs all,Ó Pauline said to her husband.
ÒI donÕt want to be--Ó
ÒQUIET, Chloe! You will speak when I order it, and not when I donÕt,Ó
John told me. I shivered. I glanced down at myself. I was dressed all in
white. My hair was pulled into twin pigtails, each tied with a pretty
white bow. I wore a small white tank top. It left my shoulders bare, as
well as my arms. It just covered the swell of my tits. My flat belly was
bare, but I wore white stockings. They were made of elastic and clung to
my legs. There were ribbons sewn into them, at the top of each of my
thighs, so that they could be pulled tight, to keep them from falling down.
Above each snugly-tied ribbon, banding my leg, was a decorative frill of
lace. I loved the stockings, but I wished theyÕd given me something more
substantial to wear with them. Instead, I had only white high-heels,
fastened to my feet with thin straps, and white panties. The panties were
narrow in back and I had to reach behind myself and pull them out of my
ass crack to keep my behind properly covered. ÔKeep them on, if you can,Õ
one of the two slave boys had told me, upstairs in my bedroom. ÔYour
punishment will hurt less if you can manage to keep on your underwear.Õ I
asked for a dress. They told me none had been authorized.
ÒAh, she is a pretty slave girl, is she not?Ó John asked his guests at
the table. They all nodded. I looked at Brad for salvation but he gazed
from me down to his plate. It was heaped with eggs and toast. He speared
his food and avoided my pleading eyes. ÒHow are your bottoms, young men,
since I strapped you last night?Ó
ÒFine, sir,Ó one of the two slave boys answered. ÒWe look forward
to more instruction from Your Highness.Ó
ÒVery good,Ó John said. ÒYou will leave Chloe here with me now. Go
upstairs and attend to her aunt. She will need your sperm on her bottom
so it can heal properly.Ó
ÒWe put lotion on it last night, sir, between fucking her and her
niece,Ó one of the slave boys answered.
ÒYes. Very good,Ó John said. ÒBut when you fucked her last night,
did you not pump your seed up between her legs?Ó
ÒOf course, sir,Ó a slave boy answered.
ÒAnd her bottom too,Ó the other one said. ÒBut we refrained from
taking Chloe that way, knowing you would wish to have her that way
yourself.Ó
I froze, where I was standing, and felt my tummy churn. John was
going to fuck me up the ass? How could he? I wasnÕt even big enough to
take his penis the normal way!
ÒVery good,Ó John said. He put a mouthful of food in his mouth and
chewed it slowly. The two slave boys waiting until he spoke again. ÒNow,
white boys, I want you two slaves of mine to go upstairs and sperm the
bottom of ChloeÕs aunt. Oil and lotion and cream are fine, but what a
young woman really needs smeared all over her ass is male sperm. Both of
you will cum all over her ass for her, do you understand? Not once, not
even twice. Three times, at least. Sperm her, boys! Do your duty! I want
RebeccaÕs ass to be covered with so much sperm it looks like an iced cake!
Spend yourselves on her with the same abandon you pumped yourselves
into her last night.Ó
ÒYes, sir!Ó both slave boys said. They saluted John. There was a
wicked gleam in their eyes. They left the room, jauntily, rubbing their
wickedly displayed penises, and I knew now why theyÕd both agreed to be
slaves of a black man, who had a taste for whipping their heinies. They
endured the punishment, because the pleasure was the most any randy
young boy could hope for.
ÒOh, please sir, I didnÕt mean to be so bad last night,Ó I said to John.
I sank to my knees.
ÒPut your hand in your panties,Ó John told me. ÒI want them wet.
Wet with your own juices. Then we will go outside for your punishment.Ó
ÒOoooh!Ó I cried. I put a finger in my mouth. I sucked it hard. With
my other hand, I slipped a finger into my panties. I began frigging myself.
I didnÕt want to, but what could I do? ÒI promise to obey everything you
say from now on, sir!Ó I told John.
ÒIndeed. You most certainly will,Ó John answered. My head was on
the level of his lap. I watched with awestruck eyes as his big, 12-inch
penis emerged from between the folds of his purple robe. It grew and
grew until it had obtained its full length. It quivered with hard abandon,
eager for a morning fuck. And I knew exactly where this big giant of a
man sitting next to me intended to put it.
ÒSir?Ó I said, still frigging myself, feeling awkward, and
unbelievably frightened, yet at the same time beginning to feel a terrible
excitement down inbetween my legs. John ignored me. He ate his bacon
and eggs. ÒSir?Ó I asked again. Finally, with a bored gaze, he looked over
at me.
ÒWhat do you want, slave girl?Ó John asked.
ÒWould you please do me a small favor?Ó I told him. I tried not to
look at his big penis sticking up out of his bathrobe but I couldnÕt help
myself.
ÒWhat?Ó John said.
ÒPlease donÕt fuck me in my bottom,Ó I said.
ÒStand up,Ó John said. Hastily I pulled my hands out of my panties
and stood. I put some distance between my nose and his big, thick charger
and it made me feel relieved. ÒAre your panties wet yet?Ó John asked.
ÒA little,Ó I said. I looked down at myself as he reached over with
his large black hand and rubbed me between my thighs. ÒOooh. DonÕt,Ó I
begged.
ÒChloe,Ó John said. The gentleness returned to his voice, even
though at that moment he was rubbing me hard between my legs and
making me feel wet and disorderly. ÒHow lovely you look with the white
ribbons in your hair, and the little white tank top, and your long white
stockings.Ó
ÒThank you,Ó I said. ÒUm, and could you please stop rubbing me
there? ItÕs making me feel all gooey. I didnÕt pick out my clothes,
anyways. Your slave boys told me what to put on.Ó
ÒYes, they have fine taste,Ó John said. ÒPerhaps one day IÕll
command them to dress just as you are.Ó He laughed. ÒHow that would
shock my visitors!Ó
ÒYouÕll have to let their hair grow a little longer,Ó I said. His hand
had slipped from between my thighs and I was *so* glad the subject
wasnÕt me for a change. John cleared his throat. His eyes wandered up
above my head, as if he was imagining something. But then, remembering
me, his gaze returned and he focused his eyes on my tummy. It drew in,
making my ribs stick out from my sides. My bosoms quivered inside my
small white tank top. I wished I had a bra. The flimsy top barely
contained my tits. I was lucky they hadnÕt popped free of it already.
John reached up and tugged at the stretched fabric of my tank top.
My breasts looked like twin mounds of jello, confined in a too-small
container. Slowly he lifted it up until the hem cleared my nipples. They
wiggled happily as they broke free of the fabric. They sprouted. I gasped.
Must he undress me in front of all the guests? Sure, theyÕd seen me naked
before, but that was last night. This was a new day and I wanted to keep
my modesty intact this morning. I reached up and tried to pull the tank
top back down over my breasts. John caught my hands and stopped me. He
held them imprisoned in his own big hands, as if restraining the wings of a
small pet bird. I felt my hips waggle nervously. Was there no escape for
me? No relief?
ÒChloe,Ó John said. ÒI want you to go upstairs. You need to be
punished right away, but I donÕt think that will help you, do you?Ó
ÒIÕm sure it wonÕt, sir!Ó I said. My voice sounded loud in the room.
ÒThatÕs why IÕm going to send you upstairs for an hour,Ó John said.
ÒI want you to go into my bedroom. ItÕs the big master bedroom at the end
of the hall. The sheets on my bed should have been changed by now, by the
slave boys. ItÕs one of their duties. I want you to pull back the covers on
my bed and get into it.Ó
ÒIÕm really not sleepy,Ó I said. My hips kept wiggling around
nervously and I found myself unable to stop them. My knees felt weak.
ÒGet into my bed,Ó John said, ignoring my objections. ÒLie down on
your belly. DonÕt pull the covers up. Leave them down by your feet. Put
your hands into your panties and play with your pussy and make yourself
wet. But donÕt cum. You are not to enjoy yourself, you are to spend the
hour thinking about your naughtiness and how you need to be punished.
Meanwhile, IÕm going to finish my breakfast. Then Chrissy here will bring
me my pipe, and IÕm going to sit and smoke my pipe and discuss important
things with her husband Steve, and with your boyfriend Brad.Ó
ÒWhat sort of things?Ó I asked.
ÒMan things,Ó John said. ÒIt is not important what we discuss.
WhatÕs important is what you think about, while weÕre sitting down here
having our smoke. Think about the bad word you used last night.Ó
ÒAnd then?Ó I asked. I was trembling now. All the way from my
knees right up to my chin. I could hear my teeth chattering. I tried
tossing back my hair, to make myself feel composed, but it was neatly
bound into pigtails and wasnÕt in my eyes. The tails shivered across my
bare shoulders. My bosoms, free of my top, wobbled nakedly before JohnÕs
eyes. The pressure of the uplifted top along their upper curves distorted
them slightly, pressing down upon them, making them look as if they were
eager to express milk into his large mouth. He kissed me on my stomach.
It drew in before his lips but he pressed his face hard to my belly button
and kissed me.
ÒThen I am going to take you outside,Ó John said. ÒIÕm going to flay
your bottom so you never want to use the word ÔniggerÕ again in your life.Ó
ÒOhhhh, noooooo!Ó I screamed. My whole body felt like water. I
almost fainted. IÕd hoped, I guessed, that IÕd somehow talked him out of
punishing me, but it was not so. Despite his gentleness, despite his
kisses, he was still the same, hard implacable John, bent on teaching me a
lesson.
ÒTake this crybaby out of my sight!Ó John told his wife. I broke into
sobs. Pauline rose hastily from the table and grabbed my hand.
ÒSheÕs only 13,Ó Pauline said to her husband.
ÒSheÕs old enough to know not to call a black man a nigger,Ó John
said. ÒEspecially in his own house.Ó
ÒI think youÕre a big, fucking, ugly, whoring, ugly, nigger whoÕs penis
is too big to go up my bottom!Ó I screamed at John. My eyes were wet and
my temper, somehow, despite my fright, had exploded. But it did me no
good. Pauline hustled me from the room (perhaps for my protection) and
we hurried upstairs.
ÒLie down,Ó Pauline told me, when we had reached the bedroom she
shared with her husband. The bed was neatly made. She pulled down its
covers. I leapt into the bed, hearing, I thought, JohnÕs big footsteps
pounding up the stairs. I shoved my hands into the front of my panties to
try to please him, should he burst into the room. I frigged my slit. I felt a
curious warmth envelop my belly. Was I happy? I knew IÕd made him mad.
Very mad. I diddled my slit and spread my legs apart and tried to press
myself into the soft sheets of his bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. Let him
come. Let him take me, however he must. It was strange to think that,
but I did. I felt fingers pry at the lips of my mouth. I resisted, then
opened them. They were sharp-nailed. Without opening my eyes, I realized
they were PaulineÕs fingers.
ÒYou wonÕt be calling my husband any more names this morning, you
naughty girl,Ó Pauline said to me. Her voice was smooth, gentle. She
forced a rubber bulb into my mouth. My eyes sprang open and I realized it
was a pacifier. When sheÕd fitted it into my mouth she passed a cord
behind it. The cord held it in place against my lips. She tied the cord
behind the back of my neck. I tried to spit the pacifier out but it was too
late, it was secure in my mouth and I was forced to suck upon it.
ÒAnd now IÕm going to pull down the back of your panties,Ó Pauline
said to me. ÒYou will frig yourself for one hour, but you will stop
whenever you feel the need to cum. IÕll sit right here beside you to watch
you. If I see you cumming, IÕm going to whack your ass so hard you wonÕt
know what hit it.Ó Pauline opened a drawer. From it she drew the longest,
whippiest riding crop IÕd ever seen. She dandled it in her fingers. Her
hands were light and easy upon it and I realized, with a sinking horror,
that I wasnÕt the first girl to lie here in her husbandÕs bed, with her
panties pulled down. I wasnÕt even the last. Next weekend thereÕd be a
different girl, and another one the week after that.
ÒPwease! Let me go!Ó I tried to say over my pacifier. Pauline leaned
back in her chair beside the bed and smiled at me. I saw a tinge of
boredom in her eyes. I was just one more female, playing games with her
husband. But I didnÕt want to! I was convinced of that. Yet, as my fingers
obediently played in my snatch, I felt, mingled with my fear, a rising level
of awful excitement.
The minutes passed. I gasped out my pleasure as I played with
myself. Pauline threatened me with the crop whenever I seemed about to
cum. I had to lie still, then. Even my fingers had to be utterly still.
Several times I came really close to cumming and I lay with frightened
eyes, looking up at her, desperate not to go over the edge and yet so very,
very close to it I could scream.
I wept, a little, feeling the minutes pass, waiting for my
punishment. But it was useless. Pauline ignored my tears. I felt silly
doing it. I was the youngest on the island and I was desperate not to be
thought of as a little baby.
As the hour drew to a close Pauline took a jar from a drawer. Then
she took out a glass thermometer. It had a big rubber bulb on one end of it.
She opened the jar and greased the thermometerÕs narrow tip. Then she
leaned over me. She put her fingers to my ass. She prised apart my
cheeks. I flinched.
ÒWaÕre yhu dointh?Ó I asked over my pacifier.
ÒMany times girls visiting us are gagged,Ó Pauline said to me,
inspecting my bottom. ÒIt would be such trouble to ungag them, just to
take their temperature. Especially when the thermometer can just be
popped into their bottom. Hold still, dear. I must check to see that you
havenÕt given yourself a fever, lying here worrying about your punishment.
Only strong, healthy girls can endure a beating out at the whipping post.Ó
ÒOh, IÕm veryth sureth I havth a feverth!Ó I blurted. ÒYooooch!Ó I
cried. I felt the slim-tipped glass of the thermometer slide between the
cheeks of my ass.
ÒLie still, darling,Ó Pauline said. ÒI have to leave it in you for three
minutes.Ó
I lay on my belly, shivering. I felt the glass of the thermometer
stuck in my ass.
ÒIÕm going to put on your collar and leash now,Ó Pauline said to me,
as we both waited for my temperature to register on the thermometer.
She opened the drawer that contained all the wicked things. She took out
a dogÕs collar. It wasnÕt mine. It wasnÕt the one IÕd worn to the party. It
was expensive, with diamonds studding it. The leather was white, to
match my clothes. It looked like a collar one put on a very spoilt cat.
Pauline lifted my chin. She slid the collar under my throat. She buckled it
behind my neck. She checked its tightness by sliding a fingertip between
the collar and my neck. ÒVery good,Ó Pauline said. Then she got a length
of chain out of the drawer. She attached one end to my collar and the
other end to a wooden post on the bedÕs headboard. I wondered if IÕd get to
keep the collar and take it home with me. IÕd never have to bother with
eighth grade, or even getting a job, if I did. IÕd been hoping to work at
McDonaldÕs when I turned 15 but with a collar like this, I could probably
just buy the McDonaldÕs instead. ÒYou are so young,Ó Pauline said, patting
my bottom. ÒIÕll try to make my husband go easy on your ass. I know you
didnÕt really mean to call him a nigger.Ó
For some stupid reason, I giggled. A frown crossed PaulineÕs face.
ÒWell, if you think itÕs funny, then perhaps I wonÕt,Ó Pauline said. She
plopped down into her chair beside my bed and picked up her riding crop.
She swung it hard. It hit the bed beside me and I flinched. I broke into
tears. ÒJust between you and me, I think youÕre a brat, who loves asking
for it,Ó Pauline said to me. She smiled. Then she leaned over me and drew
the thermometer out of my ass. She showed it to me. It had a sheen on it
that wasnÕt composed entirely of the oil sheÕd rubbed on it. She checked
its reading. ÒA perfect temperature,Ó Pauline said. ÒIÕll have to check you
again, after youÕre whipping, to see what your temp is then.Ó She looked
down at me. ÒI was just like you once, do you know that? I liked teasing
boys and going out with them, and yet I wanted so badly to meet a man, a
real man, who would--Ó
Suddenly, a shadow fell across the doorway to the room.
ÒYeeeeth!Ó I screamed. My pacifier strangled my cry, made it half as
loud as it would have been if IÕd been able to open my lips.
ÒWhere is she?Ó a voice boomed. A big, heavy-chested black man
walked into the room. He strode with a purposefulness that men have
when they know exactly what theyÕre going to do and have no compunction
about it. He carried a long, thick whip in his right hand. It trailed on the
floor. He was naked. His penis stuck out in front of him like a well-hung
post on a hatrack.
ÒSheÕs right here, Sir. In your bed,Ó Pauline said to her husband.
ÒAh, yes,Ó John said. ÒDid she cum?Ó
ÒNo, Sir. Though she came close--Ó Pauline said.
ÒThen she is wet for me, and ready?Ó John asked. Pauline reached
between my thighs. I screeched and clipped them shut. With difficulty
she probed up between my legs and then extracted her fingers.
ÒYes, sheÕs quite wet,Ó Pauline said. She rubbed her fingers across
my bare ass to wipe them.
ÒVery good,Ó John said. He walked over to me. Pauline leapt back,
for he looked angry. John bent over me. He slid a hand under my stomach.
I felt a scream rise in my throat. He yanked me up from the bed. Pauline
hurried to unhook me from the headboard. John waited, me wiggling madly
as I hung face down from his big brawny arm. My bosoms wobbled freely,
my nipples hard. My legs kicked. My bottom, exposed, shivered its perfect
twin mounds. My hands were out of my panties now and I reached for the
floor with my fingertips.
Pauline got me unhooked. I screamed over my pacifier as John
carried me from the room.
We went downstairs. I struggled to break free of JohnÕs grip but
could not. Brad and Steve stood at the front door of the house. They
opened it for John and he carried me outside.
ÒBrath!Ó I cried. I needed my boyfriend now, very badly. I squirmed
in JohnÕs arm and managed to look back at the house. The front door was
closing. In the doorway, I saw Brad standing there, his penis fresh and
erect with the morning. Pauline and Chrissy both knelt down before him.
Worshipfully the both mouthed his tool. The door closed.
Dogs ran up beside us. Their paws made clouds of dust rise from the
ground. They sniffed at me. One of them tried to snap at my breasts.
Another one nosed inbetween my legs. He tried to lick my panties. John
shouted to the dogs to draw back. They did, a little, but were still randy
and eager to have me. Perhaps they thought I was being brought out to
them to eat.
I glanced ahead of me. My head bounced as we crossed over patches
of dirt and grass. Trees with long branches grew overhead. The seaborne
wind rustled their leaves. I saw a post, in the distance, across the broken
ground. It was made of wood. It looked thick, stout, perhaps 10 feet tall
or more. As we approached it I saw cuts had been made in the wood. At
first I assumed knives had been taken to it, perhaps to try to cut the post
down. Then I felt a knot of fear in my belly, a chill running along my
limbs, as I realized a whip, repeatedly applied to the wood, could leave
deep permanent cuts in it like those that I saw. My fear worsened when I
lifted my eyes up and saw two steel manacles hanging down from the top
of the post. They swayed slightly as a breeze shook the tree limbs above
us.
We reached the pillar. John set me down on my feet. I stood in high-
heels, my ankles fitted tightly with shoe straps, my feet wobbling
nervously in the heels. John raised up my arms. With firm, gentle hands
he clipped my wrists into the manacles. I could just reach them. I wished
I was shorter. I stood on tip-toe and felt my belly press against the stout
wooden post. John kissed my cheek.
ÒI must be very severe with you now, Chloe,Ó John said to me. His
hands skimmed my slim waist and followed the outcurving of my hips.
ÒDid you know I served briefly as a school principal, before I came to live
on this island?Ó he asked. ÒMostly I had to deal with boys, but
occasionally there was a girl who required my discipline. I want you to
know that I am not completely unaccustomed to dealing with 13-year-old
girls. You are young, to be sure, but the school where I worked was a
junior high school, and I had to ask several girls to pull down their panties
for me there, so I could attend to their bottoms.Ó He kissed my cheek
again. ÒOf course, it was quite unlawful for me to look at their nude
bottoms, but I didnÕt want to hurt them too badly, so it seemed only
natural that I should be able to see their naked flesh as I whipped them.Ó
He laughed. It was a big, hearty laugh. ÒThey never complained. After all,
I was doing them a favor, wasnÕt I? In your case, though, you will
complain. DonÕt expect to sit down too soon. Maybe next month you can sit
down.Ó He laughed again. He drew back from me. Immediately one of the
dogs, circling around us, leapt inwards. He ran up to me. He sniffed my
ass and then stood on his hind legs and presented his doggie thing to me. I
felt the wetness of its tip against my bare bottom.
ÒLance! Down, boy!Ó John called. He struck with his whip. I
shrieked, but the whip thudded against the ass of his dog. The dog let out
a howl. ÒGet down, boy!Ó John called. The dog ran off. The other dogs
whined and drew back. They watched with furtive eyes the wigglings of
my bare fanny.
For some reason, despite the horror of my plight, I fancied still that,
at the last minute, I would win a reprieve for my bottom. In my girlish
fantasies I saw myself being kissed, gently held and kissed, by all the
men. John, Brad, Steve, even the two slave boys whoÕd used me so
remorselessly during the night would appear, suddenly, and spend the
whole morning kissing me while I hung bound from the post. They would
appreciate me and they would stroke me and pet me and they would all
kiss me like it was ValentineÕs Day, and I was the only girl in the world.
This was my hope.
It was not to be. As soon as John had rid me of that awful dog who
tried to mount me I heard a whistling sound. It was a high, deliberate
sound. I was wondering if it was the wind in the branches above and
thinking, Ôno, it couldnÕt be, it sounds too man-made,Õ when suddenly there
was an explosion of pain across my bottom. I shrieked. I leapt against the
post. I pressed myself hard to it. I felt my bottom waggle frantically and
fiercely behind me.
ÒYeeeehoooooth!Ó I screamed over my pacifier. I heard the whip fall
away. It slithered back across the ground as John retrieved it.
ÒOne,Ó I heard him say in a deep, hard voice. ÒOnly 38 to go.Ó
The whip cracked again. It seared my flesh. My soft bottom cheeks
danced and I howled with a passion. Birds fluttered out of the branches
over my head.
ÒTwo,Ó the voice said behind me. It was callous. It seemed
uncaring. I burst into tears. They wet the post in front of my face.
THWA-ACKCK! I heard, and jolted upright as the whip hit me again.
Oh, how it burned! I deeply regretted now that IÕd ever learned the ÔnÕ
word.
ÒSpthare meeeee!Ó I shrieked. My bottom-cheeks seethed. I worked
them hard, feeling them churn, and wondered how much more I could take
before I passed out.
ÒThree,Ó the voice behind me announced. It sounded distant and
disembodied. I was only my bottom now, the sky far away and the
branches of the trees waving uncaring in the wind. I jerked hard against
the post and tried to disappear into it.
The high, deliberate singing sounded again behind me. Frantically I
bunched my ass cheeks together.
WHOOOOO---ITT!
ÒYeeeeowth!Ó I gritted. My bosoms squashed against the cut,
splintered post as my ass danced in naked agony. I saw stars. I prayed to
God and Jesus and the Holy Ghost. I shouted for Brad, my boyfriend, to
come and save me, but I knew he was enjoying himself with the women
and wouldnÕt come for me. I shouted his name anyway. The pacifier in my
mouth distorted it into incoherence.
ÒFour,Ó the black manÕs voice said behind me. It sounded bored.
Frantically I twisted my head back. He stood with his penis erect and his
hand busily frisking it. But despite being sexually excited, he seemed
world-weary. There was a distant look in his eyes, as if I were just
another bottom, and heÕd whipped too many to really care anymore about
it. He seemed to look right through me as he let fly with the whip again.
It struck my flesh and seared me. I howled for the circling birds, even the
dogs, to save me. The dogs seemed interested, but the birds only circled,
circled, waiting for my punishment to end so they could return to their
nests in the trees.
ÒOh, IÕm sowwwy!Ó I cried over my pacifier. Tears swam in my eyes.
My ass cheeks wobbled hot and disordered behind me.
John approached. He tossed down his whip. Beseechingly I looked in
his eyes, but I saw only the clouds reflected there. He saw me and yet did
not. He grasped my wriggling thighs. He hoisted me up. He nosed his penis
between my legs.
ÒI will fuck you now,Ó John said. He found my wet cunt, nosing past
the rolled down panties clinging to the tops of my thighs. He jammed his
big bulbous cockhead into my vaginal passage.
ÒOh, no!Ó I gasped.
ÒYou prefer I continue your whipping?Ó John said.
ÒNo! No!Ó I shrieked.
ÒYou wish me to fuck you up your ass?Ó John asked.
ÒYeeeeek!Ó was my only reply, for already he was ramming his hard
erection up into the depths of me, searching deeply for my womb.
ÒBe glad that I am feeling kind this morning,Ó John said. ÒWe can
postpone the rest of your lashes until tomorrow. Your bottom is too soft
to take them all at once.Ó
ÒNoooooo!Ó I hooted.
ÒI should split your fanny with my penis, but even I know IÕm too big
for you. I donÕt want to ruin you. Not yet, anyway,Ó John said. He grinned
at me but there was still that distant look in his eyes, as if I was just one
more girl that he felt compelled to whip and to fuck. I was just one more
bottom. His manly nature demanded he pump out his sperm on a regular
basis, but the boyish joy of doing it had long since left him. He was just
using me, like a man uses a urinal to relieve himself of his urine. With
quick, jabbing motions, he began fucking my cunt. I gasped with hot,
pained breaths over my pacifier as I felt his bulbous cockhead ramming
against the back wall of my womb. He was huge. I was 13 and he was a
full grown man. Yet we fit together, somehow. IÕm not sure how. But
somehow I managed to receive him and not die, though at the time I
thought for sure heÕd burst me wide open. ÒYes, youÕre a good fuck,Ó John
said to me. ÒDonÕt worry. IÕll pay for the abortion if you should need one.Ó
30
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