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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                      WANTON WINTER

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                      Chapter Sixteen

         We sat eating breakfast.  I wore my bikini, hoping for a swim after 
breakfast.  Jacob had arisen early and was wet.  I had not heard him leave.  
He smelled of salt.  It was in his hair and made it stand up as it dried.  The 
hair on his arms was also kinky from the salt, as was the hair on his legs 
and on his chest and belly.  He wore a suit but he had not worn it 
swimming.  He had swum naked and free in the waves, feeling the sea upon 
his long-suffering penis and balls, the surging of the surf caressing him 
where he had been tormented for so many days.  
         Now Jacob had a swimsuit on.  Sarife and my aunt had made him put 
it on for breakfast.  It was dry.  It looked striking as he sat down in it, his 
body still moist from the waves but the suit, hugging his loins, dry and 
clean.  The nylon was slightly wet from the contact and pressure of his 
wet dick and balls but it was not wet as it would have been if he had 
swum in it.  
         Jacob looked as if he would burst the suit.  It was a Speedo suit.  It 
was tailored for racing.  Although it was the proper size, given its 
function, Jacob had an unnaturally large penis and, in addition to that, his 
balls were very full and they swelled the suit.
         ÒDid you cum in the waves?Ó Sarife asked Jacob.  She leaned over 
him, a tight bodice hugging her midriff, a black dress swishing around and 
concealing the slim lines of her legs.  Her bosoms were pushed up by her 
bodice, which stopped below them.  The effect was to offer her breasts, 
like the twin eggs on the plate which she now placed before Jacob.
         ÒNo, mistress,Ó Jacob said.  His eyes moved hungrily from the eggs 
to her naked breasts, and back again to his plate.  Sarife brushed back her 
black hair from her face.  She stood erect.  She used both her hands to lift 
the long rope of her hair.  She pulled pins from her hair and fixed it so that 
it would not fall.  Her breasts quivered as she worked.  Jacob, still torn 
between her breasts and his eggs, picked up his knife and fork.  Anxiously 
he dug into his eggs.  Sitting next to him, I heard his stomach growl. 
         ÒYou donÕt have to lie to me,Ó Sarife said.  She gazed at Jacob.  ÒI can 
guess why a young man would slip out of the house in the wee hours of the 
morning, and swim alone.  It was so you could enjoy a discharge, was it 
not?Ó  JacobÕs face reddened.  He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth and 
stuffed them in.
         ÒNo, mistress,Ó Jacob said again.
         ÒDo not speak with food in your mouth,Ó Sarife said.  She caught a 
strand of her hair that was still loose and fitted it up into the bun she had 
formed of her hair.  ÒDo you know what must happen today?Ó she asked.
         ÒNo,Ó Jacob said.  There was still food in his mouth, but he spoke 
anyway.  He seemed insolent.
         ÒToday I must pierce you,Ó Sarife said.  ÒA ring through your penis.  
It will hurt, Jacob.  It will sting and there will be blood.Ó  Sarife bent 
forward.  With her fingers she brushed a lock of JacobÕs hair that was 
hanging down over his forehead.  She brushed it up and back but it was 
kinky with salt and it fell forward again.  Sarife sighed.
         ÒChloe, show him your ring,Ó my aunt said.  Jacob looked at me.  I 
flushed.  My eyes darted to my aunt, then to Sarife, then back to Jacob.  I 
put down my knife and fork.  I turned toward my beloved.  I spread my legs.  
I wore a white bikini, the fabric the color of purity, yet within my parted 
legs, where the lips of my cunny pressed into the nylon, a strange 
protuberance could be seen.  It was small.  It pushed outward from 
between my lips and kept them forced slightly apart.  I reached down and 
touched the ring.  I stroked the white nylon stretched over it.  Jacob 
gasped slightly and reached over and touched my ring, nudging my finger 
aside.
         ÒYou pierced her!Ó Jacob cried.
         ÒYes,Ó Sarife said.  ÒYesterday, while you were out chopping wood.Ó
         ÒYou didnÕt ask me,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒIt is her wedding ring.  You agreed to it on your first night here, out 
in the waves,Ó Sarife said.  ÒDo you not remember?Ó  She laughed.  ÒI 
remember,Ó she said.  ÒAnd as I recall, you were so worried about being 
pierced yourself that you did not pay much attention to the fact that little 
Chloe would also be pierced.Ó
         ÒI donÕt like it,Ó Jacob said.  A wave of mortification washed over 
me.  I gasped.  I felt myself turn pale.  But my beloved kept rubbing my 
ring.  It fascinated him, even as he claimed to disapprove of it.  Soon his 
attention caused me to moan.  I squirmed in my chair.  ÒDonÕt move,Ó Jacob 
snapped.  He kept his eyes on my ring and his finger continued to diddle it.  
Every stroke he applied went straight through my love bud.  I gasped more 
loudly and clapped my hands to my bare belly.  It sunk under my ribs, 
taking my hands inward with it.  At the same time, penis-like, the ring 
between my legs seemed to protrude with greater clarity from my suit.
         Jacob withdrew his finger.  He looked into my face and then back 
again between my legs, where the ring made its indentation in my bikiniÕs 
crotch.  ÒIt is a pleasant toy,Ó he said.  ÒTake down your bikini so I can 
admire it.Ó
         I put my hands to my hips.  I slid my tight bikini down to my knees.  I 
opened my legs.  The fabric at my knees stretched.  I stroked my smooth 
thighs and looked at the gold bauble stuck in my cuntlips.  I reached down 
and touched a fingernail to it.
         ÒOooh,Ó I said.
         ÒDoes it make you more aroused?Ó Jacob asked.
         ÒYes,Ó I admitted.  I licked my lips.  ÒIt makes me think always of 
myself there,Ó I said.
         ÒWhen we are married, and living together, I will invite my friends 
over,Ó Jacob told me.  ÒYou will serve them drinks.  But to allow them to 
see your ring, you will not wear a skirt and panties.  Though you may, if 
you wish, wear a blouse and heels, or boots.  They will tease you by pulling 
on your ring.  They will not be jealous of me having such a pretty wife 
because your ring will permit them the license to tease you.  They will 
touch you in your intimate place, usually reserved for a husband.  They 
will not feel guilty, because your ring will serve as an invitation.Ó
         ÒThen you do not mind that she has been pierced?Ó Sarife asked.  
There was a hint of nervousness in her voice.
         ÒI do not mind, anymore, now that I see it will be useful,Ó Jacob 
said.  I gulped.  I wasnÕt sure I wanted his randy friends feeling me there.  
Yet he was right.  With me pierced, showing off jewelry there, how could 
they resist?  Perhaps the evening would begin with them looking at my 
hands, innocently asking where my wedding ring was, and then Jacob 
would command me to show them my ring.  I shivered.  If we were really 
married, and did choose to live together, my ring would be a constant topic 
of conversation.
         ÒDonÕt I get a ring for my finger too?Ó I asked, lifting my eyes to 
Sarife.  She looked between my legs and laughed.
         ÒNo, Chloe,Ó she said.  ÒNot from an Indian wedding.  Just the one 
between your legs, where it matters.Ó
         ÒI do not like only having a ring between my legs,Ó I said.
         ÒYou wish for me to also pierce your nipples?Ó Sarife asked.  She 
licked her lips.
         ÒNo!Ó I cried.  I clapped my hands to my breasts.  I felt ridiculous 
sitting there, my panties pulled down to my knees, my legs open and 
displaying a gold ring, with my hands protecting my nipples.
         ÒThen do not tempt me,Ó Sarife said.  ÒEat your eggs, Jacob.  They 
will increase your sperm count.Ó
         ÒI... have enough sperm,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒA man can never have enough sperm,Ó Sarife said.  ÒYou will need 
more in any event, because after I pierce you, I am going to milk you, 
Jacob.  At an Indian wedding, after a man is pierced, before he is given 
formally to his bride, it is customary for his equipment to be checked, to 
make sure that the needle has not harmed him.  So when the ring has been 
freshly implanted in you, I will force you to cum, with my hands, so that I 
can check that you have not been damaged.  You will spurt.  Then, when I 
see that you are still working properly, I will give you to Chloe.  You will 
then need to fuck her, as soon as you are able.Ó  A lock of her hair broke 
free from the bun she had made and she brushed it back.  ÒSo you see, 
Jacob, you will need plenty of sperm.  Even though your balls are already 
bursting I want you to eat your eggs, so that you will have plenty of seed 
when the hour for ejaculation arrives.Ó
         ÒYes, mistress,Ó Jacob said.  He shifted his hips in his chair.  I 
looked at his cock and balls in his suit.  His poor Speedos looked stressed.  
Two apples seemed to have been jammed into them, along with a very big 
snake.
         ÒPull up your panties, Chloe,Ó Rebecca said to me.

         Despite our nudity and the perversity of the things we did to each 
other, there were times that we were almost normal.  JacobÕs piercing 
was not to happen until the evening, under a rising moon, and so Sarife had 
us play cards to while away the time.  We sat in the living room.  I shared 
a hand of cards with Jacob.  We exchanged smiles, and furtive caresses, as 
we studied our cards.  Sarife told us not to arouse each other, we must 
wait until evening, but she pretended not to notice our indiscretions.
         Poor Jacob.  I donÕt think he was helped any by my inquisitive 
fingers.  Every touch of my hand seemed to make him bulge more fiercely 
into his swimsuit.  As for myself, my nipples stood up hard and pinlike 
through the fabric of my thin bra.
         Sarife laughed.  ÒLook at you two!Ó she said.  ÒYou are practically 
panting over there.  And youÕre losing.  I donÕt think youÕre paying too much 
attention to your cards.Ó
         ÒWe-- weÕre trying,Ó I said.  My voice fluttered like a birdÕs.  I felt 
quivery, though in a pleasant way, my face flushed and my breath hot.
         ÒThere are many hours to go before the piercing ceremony,Ó Sarife 
said.  ÒTry to think of something besides your bodies.Ó
         ÒStud poker is not a good substitute,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒYou would prefer pinochle?Ó Sarife asked.  My aunt stifled a laugh.
         ÒNo,Ó Jacob groused.  My fingers flitted across his belly and fell to 
the bulge in his suit.  I felt it grow under my touch.  Jacob gritted his 
teeth.
         ÒThis evening,Ó Sarife said, ÒYou will be tied, Jacob.  Things will be 
exactly the reverse of the way they are in civilized life.  Normally a manÕs 
hands are free, but his penis is confined.  Tonight, your hands will be tied 
behind your back and your penis will be free.Ó
         ÒThatÕs nice,Ó Jacob said.  I pointed to a card and he pulled it from 
our hand.  He tossed it onto the coffee table that separated us from Sarife 
and my aunt.  Like us, they shared a hand of cards, though their hands were 
more discreet.
         ÒIn fact,Ó Sarife said, ÒYou will not merely be permitted your 
freedom, Jacob.  That is, with respect to your cock.  You will be expected 
to display yourself.  Your erection, I mean.  Though your mouth will be 
gagged and your hands will be bound and your ankles will be chained, you 
will be required to make a fine display of your penis.  It will be naked, and 
it is important that you offer it to us in a state of full tumescence.  I will 
expect to see you randy and hard.  There will be times today when I cannot 
watch you, perhaps when you take a shower, and you might be tempted to 
play with yourself and make yourself cum.  Do not, Jacob.  That is why I do 
not wish to see little Chloe flirting with you, like sheÕs doing now, though 
she thinks I donÕt notice.  You might cum in your suit, right there on the 
couch, and that might lessen your randiness this evening.Ó
         Sarife tossed a card onto the coffee table.  She selected another 
from the deck, looked at it, and placed it in the hand she shared with my 
aunt.  ÒAt an Indian wedding,Ó she continued, gazing again at Jacob, at his 
groin, ÒAt an Indian wedding, the man, when he is pierced, must be able to 
show himself in his natural state, at the peak of his abilities.  There must 
be no flagging of your cock tonight, Jacob.  No one should have to suck you, 
or fondle you, in order for you to display a fine instrument.  You are young, 
so I do not expect any difficulties.  But if you should disobey me, and jerk 
yourself off, there might perhaps be something less than a straining, fully 
engorged penis for you to present at our ceremony.  You see, Jacob, you 
must not simply be hard, tonight.  You must be utterly engorged.  You 
should be so full of sperm that your poor cock is stretched to its limit.  
Not pleasantly hard, but agonizingly hard.  Do you understand, Jacob?  Your 
cock is the complete focus of our attention tonight, and it must be in tip-
top condition.Ó
         ÒYes,Ó Jacob said.  His voice was tight, constricted.  His bare chest 
heaved as he spoke.
         Sarife sat thinking for a moment.  Our card game dawdled.  Nobody 
seemed to possess much interest in the cards.  At last Sarife, listening to 
the waves, looked over at my aunt.  She whispered to her.  My aunt 
considered a moment, and then nodded.
         ÒI agree,Ó she said.
         ÒIt is probably the only way,Ó Sarife said.  ÒHe is beyond his ability 
to cope, from the looks of him.Ó
         ÒYes,Ó my aunt said.
         Sarife cleared her throat.  She brushed back her hair from her eyes, 
or would have, except there were no loose strands to her hair at the 
moment, and so her fingers, brushing over her forehead, were but an 
empty, nervous gesture.
         ÒJacob,Ó Sarife said.  ÒRebecca and I have decided on something.  It 
will be more work for us, but I suppose we will enjoy it, and in any event 
there seems to be no choice, as my knowledge of men tells me you will 
never make it through the day without it.Ó
         ÒWhat?Ó Jacob asked.
         ÒYou must be spoiled,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒHuh?Ó Jacob replied.
         ÒSpoiled, Jacob,Ó Sarife agreed.  ÒPampered, like a king.  IÕm sure 
you will enjoy it,Ó she laughed.  ÒStand up.  Take off your swimsuit.  From 
now on, for the rest of the day, you will be coddled and catered to.  You 
may have whatever you wish, though you may not be free with us, and we 
may not, necessarily, be free with you, lest we cause you to spill that 
which we are trying so hard to preserve.Ó
         ÒWhat makes you think I want to take off my swimsuit?Ó Jacob said.
         ÒStand up, Jacob,Ó Sarife laughed.  ÒFree yourself.  There is no need 
to be defiant.Ó
         Jacob rose.  He dropped our cards, not caring that they fell face up, 
so that Sarife and my aunt could see them.  He grabbed his swimsuit.  With 
a single gesture he tore the suit from his loins.  His cock sprang out and 
his his belly as he bent low, yanking the suit down his legs.  Eagerly he 
stepped out of it.  He kicked it away from himself, as if afraid he might 
have to suffer within it again if he didnÕt.  Then, in a kind of victory dance, 
though not moving his feet, his wiggled his hips and watched himself as 
his cock gyrated around, a tuning fork looking for water.
         ÒAh, how deliciously stiff you are,Ó Sarife said, gazing at my 
boyfriendÕs penis.  My auntÕs face blushed.
         ÒThey are like PloverÕs eggs,Ó she said.
         ÒHmmm?Ó Sarife asked.
         ÒHis balls,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒOh, yes!Ó Sarife agreed.  ÒHe is full of himself and his seed has 
swollen his balls to the breaking point.Ó  They both giggled.  ÒSit down, 
Jacob,Ó Sarife said.  ÒLet us finish our game.Ó
         Bare-assed, Jacob plopped back down onto the couch that we shared.  
He seemed to relish the feel of the expensive cloth covering of the couch 
against his nude butt.  His balls sank into the couch, trapped between his 
thighs, and he smiled at the freedom and mild constriction that he felt, 
his testicles naked against the couch and yet supported by it, and pressed 
on both sides by his legs.  Above the sac of his balls his cock stood erect.  
He was hard with longing.  Yet he did not seem now to be tortured so much 
by his randiness, for he was able to stretch his dick forth as much as he 
pleased, with only our eyes upon it, his swimsuit lying useless on the 
floor.
         ÒDo you feel better now, Jacob?Ó Sarife asked.  Her eyes flashed.
         ÒYes,Ó Jacob grunted.
         ÒIs there anything you would like?  IÕm sure one of us would be 
delighted to get it for you,Ó Sarife said.
         ÒUm,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒAnything non-sexual, I mean,Ó Sarife said.
         ÒNo... I guess,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒJust tell us if there is.  WeÕre at your beck and call, now,Ó Sarife 
said.  ÒIn a little while weÕll take you upstairs and wash all that salt off 
you.  ItÕs just like a man to go swimming and then not shower afterward.  
DonÕt worry, Jacob.  WeÕll draw a hot bath for you and let you soak in it, 
and wash your hair for you, and then weÕll trim your nails for you too, and 
lastly weÕll powder your bottom.Ó  She laughed again, and a lock of her 
dark hair fell down over her forehead.
         ÒI donÕt need my ass powdered,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒOh, but you do, Master,Ó Sarife giggled.  ÒAnd your pubic hair must 
be combed, also.  Brushed and combed, and your dick oiled.  You will be 
pampered in every way possible, Jacob.  Every way but one.Ó
         ÒIt sounds more like torture,Ó Jacob said.  But he licked his lips, and 
seemed to enjoy the thought of so much female attention.  Then he said, 
ÒCan I suck your tits?Ó
         ÒHmmm?Ó Sarife asked.
         ÒCan I suck your tits?Ó Jacob said.
         ÒDo you wish me to nurse you, Jacob?Ó Sarife asked.
         ÒYes!  I want you all to nurse me,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒDonÕt bite our nipples,Ó my aunt said.  Her voice was soft.  But she 
began unbuttoning the blouse she wore.
         ÒIÕll... try not to,Ó Jacob said.

         The next hour was a revelry unlike any IÕd ever experienced before.  
Jacob was put into a bed, upstairs.  We didnÕt bother to give him a bath 
first.  We lay in bed with him and fed him our nipples in turn.  He sucked 
hard, making us gasp.  All the while his naked cock stuck up between us, 
but we did not touch it, except accidentally, for he was very excited and 
near the brink of orgasm.  How tempting it was to see that penis of his 
sticking up, and to be so close to him, and to feel his teeth upon my 
nipples, and yet to not conclude our lust!  When we finally broke free of 
each other we were as hot-faced and hungry as weÕd been when we first 
lay down.
         ÒGod, I am desperate myself,Ó Sarife said, looking at JacobÕs cock 
and running her hands up between the vee of her legs and touching her cunt.  
She gave a rueful smile.  ÒCome, Jacob.  YouÕve made my nipples sore.  Let 
us give you a bath.  And donÕt sperm the bubbles, okay?Ó
         ÒOkay,Ó Jacob said.  His voice was throaty, deep.  He let us pull him 
up from the bed, his cock still rampant, our own cunnies wet with our 
desire for him.  We stumbled down the hall with him.  We entered the 
bathroom and Sarife leaned over the tub and plugged it and turned on the 
tap.
         Jacob urinated into the toilet.  We watched his stream.  Our eyes 
were hungry.
         ÒNo!  DonÕt wast it!Ó Sarife said, suddenly.
         ÒHuh?Ó Jacob asked.  
         Sarife grabbed JacobÕs dick with two fingers, tweezer-like.  His 
flow stopped in mid-pee.
         ÒLetÕs get in the tub and let him pee on us,Ó Sarife suggested, 
looking at me and my aunt.  ÒEverything that comes out of his cock is 
precious.Ó
         ÒYes!Ó my aunt agreed.  Her voice was breathy, a whisper spoken in 
lust.
         ÒOh, God,Ó I said.  I let Sarife and my aunt take my hands.  We 
stepped into the tub together.  Sarife pulled the plug and the water gurgled 
away.  We knelt.  We looked at Jacob.
         ÒPee on us,Ó Sarife told him.
         ÒAm I a slave?Ó Jacob asked, his cock still poised over the toilet.
         ÒPlease pee on us, Master!Ó we all shouted, in unison.  I was amazed 
at how we all thought of the same words at the same time.  Jacob laughed.
         ÒNow things are truly going my way,Ó Jacob said.  He turned and, 
grinning, pointed his cock at us.  ÒReady?Ó he asked.
         ÒOpen your mouth, Chloe.  Like this,Ó Sarife said.  She leaned forward 
and parted her lips.  First a little, then wide, as if accepting a bit.  She 
extended her tongue.
         ÒYes!Ó my aunt cried.  She copied Sarife.  
         ÒOh, IÕm not a fire hydrant,Ó I said, but I did the same, bending 
toward JacobÕs cock and opening my mouth to him.
         ÒYes!Ó Jacob said.  Lustily he began peeing.  He aimed straight for 
SarifeÕs mouth.  He hit her on the nose, however, for his aim was a little 
off, and when he saw he wasnÕt getting his pee where he wanted it he 
clutched his dick with his hand and aimed lower.
         ÒAughghk!Ó Sarife said.  JacobÕs pee gurgled in her mouth and ran 
down her throat.  Yet she steeled herself against the immorality of it and 
forced her mouth to stay open.  He filled her and soon his pee was 
overflowing her lips and running down her neck.  Then he turned to my 
aunt, and pissed on her.
         ÒI want some too!Ó I protested, fearing he would be empty before he 
remembered me.
         ÒGod, I love this,Ó Jacob said, and he swung his dick in my direction 
and hit me between the eyes.
         ÒYeeek!Ó I cried.  I lifted my hands and covered my face.
         ÒChloe!  Do not!Ó Sarife, speaking through pee-filled lips, scolded me.  
She reached over and drew my hands away from my eyes.  Jacob peed, like 
a stallion, his stream strong and fierce.  His pee stung my cheeks and 
showered my lips.  Against my better judgement I opened wide and 
accepted him.
         ÒVery good,Ó Sarife said, when Jacob was finished relieving himself.  
Since he had only peed, his dick was still unbearably stiff.  He looked at 
himself, half expecting to no longer be tormented by an erection.  Yet 
there it was, as fine and big as ever.
         ÒGod, I need a fuck,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒGet in, Jacob,Ó Sarife said.  ÒGet in and lie down.  How delicious it 
will be to see your cock sticking up through the bubbles as we wash you.  
Rebecca, turn on the tap.  Mmmm, there are many hours yet in which you 
must remain hard, Jacob.  How exciting it is to test ourselves in this 
way!Ó

         In the afternoon, unable to think of any other way to amuse 
ourselves, we tied Jacob to a tree.  We tied him in shade, under the 
thickest branches, so that the sun would not scorch his body.  We kissed 
him as he hung there, to assure him that we loved him.  Then we took turns 
whipping him.  
         ÒSee how lovely the whip marks look, upon his white bottom?Ó 
Sarife asked.  She showed us how to twist oneÕs wrist, to make the whip 
strike in a certain manner.  She was careful not to hit JacobÕs balls, 
though she had insisted on opening his legs with a spreader bar.  It was 
tied between his ankles.  We were able to watch his balls bounce as the 
whip hit his ass.
         In the distance I saw a plume of dirt.  I wondered at it.  It rose up 
into the clear blue of the sky.  Beyond, there was the crack of the whip as 
Sarife made Jacob jerk.
         ÒI thought I was supposed to be pampered,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒAll our rules are made up, dear,Ó Sarife answered.  ÒWe may change 
them if we wish.Ó
         ÒUnh!  Do not hit so hard,Ó Jacob said, as the whip curled in upon him 
and marked him yet again.
         ÒHow sweet your cheeks look!  Do you think you can save yourself by 
squeezing them?Ó Sarife chuckled.  I was amazed at how Jacob had let us 
tie him.  He had not protested, seemed almost excited by it, yet now he 
clearly was having second thoughts.
         ÒDamn!  Enough already, woman!Ó Jacob said.  ÒI command you to let 
me loose.Ó
         ÒPerhaps we should,Ó my aunt said.  ÒWe did promise to pamper him 
all day.Ó
         ÒI do not wish to,Ó Sarife said.  ÒWe nursed him, we bathed him.  We 
let him pee on us.  Now let me have a little fun with this whip.Ó
         ÒBut--Ó my aunt said.
         ÒOuch!Ó Jacob cried, as the whip lashed him again.
         ÒPut something in his mouth,Ó Sarife said.  ÒI do not wish to listen 
to him complaining.Ó
         My aunt had tied a neckerchief around her neck and now she undid 
this with her fingers.  She walked forward to Jacob and stroked his 
bottom.  Jacob flinched under her touch.  Sarife waited, the whip dangling 
by her side.  My aunt asked Jacob to open his mouth for her.  He did.  I 
gazed with surprised eyes at how he accepted the gag she fitted between 
his teeth.  He looked rather silly, I thought, with my auntÕs neckerchief 
wadded into his mouth.  My aunt took the ends of it and brought them round 
behind his head and tied them.  When she was done she patted his bottom 
again, making him wiggle, and then she walked away.
         ÒThank you, Rebecca,Ó Sarife said.  She ran her whip over her palm, 
feeling the length of it, readying herself to renew her attack.
         ÒNot too many,Ó my aunt cautioned.
         ÒIt is only to pass the time,Ó Sarife said.
         The plume of dirt grew closer.  I guessed it was coming from the 
road and when it stopped, beyond the grassy knolls of the dunes, I turned 
to my aunt.
         ÒSomeone is coming,Ó I said.
         Sarife looked up.  She gazed into the dunes and then she lifted her 
hand to her eyes.
         ÒGo get the gun, Rebecca,Ó Sarife said.
         ÒYou must untie him!Ó I said.
         ÒYes,Ó Sarife agreed.  Then she thought a moment, and said, ÒNo.  We 
have the gun.  It is enough.  Let him greet whoever it is with his cock 
erect, and his arms uplifted, his ass marked by my whip.Ó
         ÒOh my God,Ó I gasped.

         Our driver stood laughing.  His hands were crossed over his chest.  He 
had come to check on us, with his wife, and now they both had quite 
amused expressions on their faces as they looked at Jacob.
         ÒWell, I done never seen no white man whipped before, though no 
doubts they do deserve it,Ó the driver said.
         ÒHe is big,Ó the driverÕs wife said, and pointed.
         ÒHe do have one the size of a banana, donÕt he?Ó the driver agreed.
         ÒIt wobbles quite nicely when the whip hits him, does it not, 
Chloe?Ó Sarife asked me, for I stood where I could admire his chest and 
his dick.
         ÒYes,Ó I gulped.
         ÒHe could bear much more than youÕre giving him,Ó the driver told 
Sarife.
         ÒOh, really?Ó Sarife asked.
         ÒI used to have to do some whippings, back in the old days,Ó the 
driver said.
         ÒPerhaps you would like a try,Ó Sarife said.
         ÒI would be most obliged, maÕam,Ó the driver said.
         ÒBut you must not hit his balls,Ó Sarife cautioned.  ÒWe do not wish 
to damage him.  Only to watch his cock jerk about, involuntarily, as the 
whip is applied.Ó
         ÒOf course,Ó our driver agreed.  She walked over to him and placed 
her whip into his hands.  He had big hands.  They were thick-fingered and 
gnarled from years of manual labor.
         ÒNot too hard,Ó my aunt cautioned.
         ÒAnd not on the back,Ó Sarife said.  ÒHe is not a slave.  We only wish 
him to be erotically punished.  Groomed, perhaps, is the best word for it.  
He must be attentive to his wifeÕs needs and this whipping will remind 
him of that.Ó
         ÒOh yes,Ó the driver said.  He twisted the whip in his hands, feeling 
its strength.  He looked at his wife.  ÒA husband must always keep his 
mind on his wifeÕs needs.Ó
         ÒHe will be a good husband if you whip him into shape,Ó the driverÕs 
wife agreed.  ÒRight now he... he looks a little too much like a spoiled 
playboy.Ó
         Jacob was not so acquiescent to our wishes as he watched Sarife put 
the whip in our driverÕs hands.  Being whipped by a woman had aroused 
him.  But now he was to be whipped by a man, and no ordinary man at that, 
but a man who had knowledge of how to whip other men.  Men who were 
slaves.  He tried speaking, but my auntÕs gag in his mouth stifled his 
words.  His big muscles pulled hard at the ropes binding his uplifted 
wrists.  He twisted his ankles against the cuffs of the spreader bar.  But 
Sarife had bound him, and despite the delicacy of her fingers she was no 
slouch when it came to making knots.  She had been trained, in India, on 
how to bind people.  It was used sometimes, in India, she had told us, when 
at a wedding a bride or groom proved recalcitrant. 
         The whip struck with alarming vigor.  Jacob screamed.  His cock 
waggled as never before.  His buttocks clenched.  His balls jumped.  The 
driver laughed and applied stroke after stroke to my belovedÕs behind.  He 
savored the red marks he made on JacobÕs bottom.  He licked his lips.  He 
paused to spit into his hands to make his grip more certain.
         The wind rustled the branches of the tree.  The sun baked down on 
our driver, who was not under the treeÕs shade, the whip being long and 
needing room for its work.  But despite the heat, our driverÕs aim was 
sure.  Each stroke sailed in and struck Jacob exactly where our driver 
intended.  JacobÕs ass went from white to a rosy red hue.  His bottom was 
not wealed, but rather polished.  My beloved reminded me of a 
thoroughbred being whipped into action in a race.  He would fuck me harder 
tonight, because of how we had punished him this afternoon.  
         The sun burned down.  The driver paused and pulled a handkerchief 
from his back pocket.  He wiped his brow.  
         ÒYou are weary?  You are finished?Ó Sarife asked.  We stood just 
within the perimeter of the treeÕs shade.
         ÒNo, maÕam,Ó the driver answered.  ÒJust catching my breath.Ó
         ÒYou do not have to continue if you do not wish to,Ó Sarife told him.
         ÒI am not finished,Ó the driver assured her.
         Jacob twisted in his bonds.  He was safe from the burning sun, under 
the thickest branches.  But his ass was not safe.  It was red, as if 
sunburned.  My breath moved tremulously in my throat.  My heart palpitated 
under my bosoms.  I squeezed my auntÕs hand.
         ÒI never saw a man whip a man before,Ó I whispered.
         ÒYes.  It is quite... arousing,Ó my aunt agreed.
         I gazed into the driverÕs eyes.  He had put his handkerchief away and 
was ready to continue his work.  He sized up JacobÕs bottom, itÕs 
condition, itÕs ability to take more.  Of course Jacob could take much 
more, if one wished to be sadistic.  But our driver was obedient to our 
wishes.
         SWIIIIK!  The whip unfurled and Jacob screamed anew.  The gag kept 
him from hurting our ears with his cry.  His dick moved with a life of its 
own.  His balls leapt.  He jerked forward his hips, as if offering himself to 
the trunk of the tree.  Our driver laughed.  Staring into his dark, grinning 
eyes, I guessed he would have gladly stripped all the skin off JacobÕs 
behind.  A single word from Sarife would have given him all the 
permission he needed.  He would have left my beloved bleeding and bare, 
marked for life by his wicked hands.  Yet he was not cruel, though he 
longed to be.  Instead he applied the strokes carefully, spoiling Jacob with 
a bottom-thrashing that was restrained.

         Jacob could not sit at dinner and had to lie on his side, on a couch, 
like a Roman.  We fed him sweetmeats brought by the driverÕs wife, and 
fruit dipped in honey.  He ate naked.  We were naked too, freed of the 
clothes we had worn outside, under the tree.
         ÒDid you enjoy your whipping?Ó Sarife asked Jacob.
         ÒNo,Ó he answered.  He frowned.  ÒWhy in GodÕs name would I have 
enjoyed it?Ó
         ÒYou let us tie you,Ó Sarife said.
         ÒI was stupid.Ó
         ÒThe driver could have hit you much harder,Ó my aunt told him.
         ÒHe could have hit your balls!Ó I said.
         ÒThat was the most humiliating fucking experience of my life,Ó 
Jacob said.  Sarife popped a sweetmeat into his mouth.
         ÒYou endured marvelously,Ó she said.  ÒA true man.  Even if the driver 
did show restraint.Ó  She kissed him.
         ÒYouÕre weird,Ó Jacob told her.
         ÒIÕm wicked,Ó she agreed.  Her eyes sparkled. 

         Because of the thrashing he had received from our driver, JacobÕs 
piercing was postponed for one day.  I still remember the look in his eyes 
when Sarife informed him.  It was a look of relief, mingled with terror.
         ÒSo we shall wait,Ó Sarife said, running her hand over JacobÕs ass.  
He clenched his cheeks.  She bent and kissed both his hams, left and right, 
savoring the heat from the whip that still lay within them.
         ÒSee?  You are being spared,Ó I told him, impishly, plopping down by 
his face on the couch.  He grabbed my thin legs.  He tore at my panties with 
his teeth.  The gusset gave way and my cunt lay exposed and he pillaged me 
with his tongue.  Sarife watched, to make sure he did not use his cock.
         ÒSuch strength,Ó Sarife murmured.
         ÒShe is getting the whole benefit of it too,Ó my aunt said.  Her voice 
was rueful.

         By the next evening JacobÕs ass was white.  Uncharacteristically, he 
wore his swimsuit at dinner.  Halfway through our meal Sarife looked at 
him and said,
         ÒJacob, your crotch of your swimsuit is awfully big.  DonÕt you think 
youÕd feel more comfortable if you took those Speedos off?Ó
         ÒNo,Ó Jacob answered.
         ÒIÕm sure you would,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒAt least take them off for the sake of the swimsuit,Ó I said.  Sarife 
and my aunt laughed.
         ÒYes, Jacob.  You mustÕnt be so hard on that poor swimsuit,Ó Sarife 
said.  ÒAs a member of the Women Against Swimsuit Abuse I really must 
insist.Ó
         ÒOkay,Ó Jacob grunted.  He stood.  He untied the front of his suit as 
we sat watching, our breath suddenly tremulous, our eyes excited and 
expectant.  He looked like he had a coconut stuffed into that little suit.
         Jacob freed his groin.  His penis popped out and hung in the air like a 
snake with rigor mortis.
         ÒThere, thatÕs better, is it not?Ó Sarife asked.  She prodded her meal 
with her fork.  With trembling fingers, which she somehow managed to 
still, she lifted a forkful of food to her lips and sucked it into her mouth.  
She chewed, lifting her eyes again to JacobÕs equipment, admiring it, 
savoring the sight of it all bare and ready for action.  She swallowed, not 
without difficulty.
         As for myself, I just sat and stared.  Even though this was not the 
first time IÕd seen him naked, Jacob still had the power to rivet me to my 
seat.  Had we been alone, I should have liked to feel him rivet me to a 
mattress!
         ÒItÕs a penis, Jacob.  Not a flag,Ó my aunt said softly.  ÒSit down.Ó
         Jacob sat.  The weight of his balls rested between his legs, framed 
by his thighs.  His cock hung over his balls, thick and upright, eager to 
pump out his seed.  How I wished to be the cushion under his bare ass!
         ÒGet your suit all the way off, Jacob.  You will split it if you leave it 
hanging like that, stretched between your thighs,Ó Sarife said.  
         Jacob took hold of his suit and pulled it down his legs.  When he had 
gotten it off his feet, Sarife reached out her hand and extended her fingers 
and said, quietly,
         ÒHere.  Give it to me.Ó

         The night was dark.  The moon had risen but a thick overhanging of 
clouds now obscured it.  Sarife leaned out the window in the kitchen, by 
our meal table.  Her breasts were freed from her dress and they rested 
like ripe gourds on the wood of the windowsill.  I feared she might get a 
splinter from the old wood, but she seemed unafraid.  The wind had picked 
up and it rustled the curtains, played at the strands of her hair.
         ÒThere is a storm coming,Ó Sarife said.  ÒCan you hear it?Ó
         We listened.  Far off, after a moment, I heard a thudding of thunder.
         ÒWe shall have to wait,Ó my aunt said.  There was disappointment in 
her voice, yet perhaps a touch of relief also.  
         ÒNo.  We can still do it.  The rain will not be here for some time,Ó 
Sarife said.  She turned her head.  She looked into the kitchen, where we 
sat round the table.  Her dark eyes shone.  ÒIn India we are visited each 
year by the monsoon.  It can be ferocious.  It trains us to think about the 
weather.  It will be some time before the rain comes.  We can still 
perform the procedure.Ó
         ÒI- I do not know much about the weather,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒWesterners have long since forgotten the ways of nature,Ó Sarife 
agreed.  She looked at me.  ÒYou probably know more about the TeleTubbies 
than the rain, do you not Chloe?Ó
         ÒI know if itÕs going to rain, you say ÔUh-oh,Õ just like Po,Ó I replied.
         Sarife laughed.  She looked at my beloved.  He sat rather awkwardly 
at his place, surrounded by females, yet subject to their will.
         ÒJacob?  You will behave?Ó Sarife asked.  She left the window and 
walked over to him.  She drew close to him and bent in towards him.  She 
let her naked breasts coddle the back of his head.
         Jacob turned.  I could see he wished to clutch at SarifeÕs breasts but 
instead he simply grazed his young, unshaven face against them.  
         ÒDonÕt,Ó Sarife said.  She shivered.  ÒDonÕt, Jacob.  Your face is 
rough.Ó  He opened his mouth and bit one of her nipples, lightly.  She 
gasped.  She did not say ÒdonÕtÓ again.  For the next several minutes Jacob 
nursed at her tits.  At last Sarife pushed him back.  His mouth freed her.  
She shook her bosoms.  They were wet from his saliva.
         ÒYou must handcuff him, Chloe.  HeÕs your husband,Ó Sarife said in 
the dark of the room, her hands stroking JacobÕs rough cheeks.  He opened 
his lips but took in only air.  She did not give him her breasts again.  He 
might have forced her to nurse him but instead he beguiled, a charmed 
snake.

         When the fire was ready, Sarife called to Jacob.  He approached her 
with his hands out of the way, behind his back.  Steel manacles bound his 
wrists.  His hands rested on the bare shelf of his buttocks.
         I led my beloved to her.  We walked along a path from the house.  We 
approached an open pit.  A low wall surrounded it.  The wall was made of 
rocks.  Within the pit a fire burned.  It looked like a simple campfire.  But 
lying upon the wall, metal instruments gleamed in the fireÕs light.  Tongs 
to hold my beloved by his penis, and a needle to pierce him with.  Next to 
the tongs and the needle was a gold ring, which would be forced into the 
hole made in his cock by the needle.
         In contrast to his hands, which were pulled back out of the way, 
JacobÕs penis stuck out in front of him like a bare iron rebar.  It looked as 
exposed as the rebars you see poking out of the sides of unfinished 
buildings.  There was the flat, rock hard surface of his stomach, blending 
with his powerful, trim legs, and then quite unexpectedly, at least for a 
girl like me, there was his humongous penis, jutting forth into the air, 
naked and free and wobbling slightly with the weight of its girth.  Under 
his cock his balls dangled between his legs, heavy with the weight of his 
seed.
         The waves rolled slowly in toward the shore.  I thought I sensed the 
sound of them in the pulsing of JacobÕs penis.  The sea surrounded me and 
it hung saltily in my belovedÕs balls and made his equipment tremor.  I 
drew Jacob along the path by his arm, looking up at him, my face turned 
away from the beach and studying his own face, then looking away when he 
glanced at me.  (Hoping to ask for mercy?)
         There was a small square of fur, cut from a bearskin rug, waiting on 
the side of the wall, by the instruments.
         ÒKneel here,Ó Sarife told Jacob.  Her breasts were bare and white.  
Her nipples stood erect.  A skirt bound her waist, covered the slim 
columns of her legs.  ÒKneel here on the fur, Jacob.  I wish for you to be as 
comfortable as you can be.Ó
         Jacob knelt.  His cock stuck out over the fire in the pit.
         ÒKeep your back straight,Ó Sarife said.  Jacob obeyed.  The muscles 
of his chest, under a short t-shirt he wore, rippled.  I patted his bottom.  I 
admired the stance of his bare, powerful legs.
         ÒCan you feel the heat of the flames on your dick and balls?Ó Sarife 
asked Jacob.  She passed a hand between his thighs.  She made him spread 
his legs wider.
         ÒYes,Ó Jacob said.
         ÒLet me cool you,Ó Sarife said.  She reached under the towel on 
which the metal instruments lay.  A lump that I thought was a 
discontinuity in the wall proved to be otherwise.  Sarife drew forth a 
small plastic squirt gun.  ÒItÕs been filled with ice water,Ó she told my 
beloved.  She aimed, pulled the trigger.  A thin stream of water spurted 
from the gunÕs nozzle and hit my beloved on the head of his cock.  ÒFire and 
ice,Ó Sarife murmured.  ÒThe essential elements of the universe.Ó
         Thunder sounded.  It was closer than it had been before and the noise 
of it surprised me.  Startled, I looked up.  Far out to sea I saw a thin 
crackle of lightning.
         ÒIt will be raining soon,Ó Sarife said.  A smile broke on her lips.  
ÒYou will be pierced by then, Jacob,Ó she said.
         ÒThe fire is hot,Ó Jacob said.  His penis was quite long and it hung 
over the flames like a sausage being roasted.
         ÒThatÕs why I have the squirtgun, darling,Ó Sarife said in a teasing 
voice.  She squirted him again.  Jacob trembled.  His cock quivered.
         ÒDonÕt,Ó Jacob said.  ÒYouÕll make me cum.Ó
         ÒWhat?  After all youÕve endured?  A thin little stream of water can 
make you cum?Ó Sarife asked.  She depressed the trigger again.  She aimed 
for the underside of my loveÕs cock, just under the head, where a man is 
most sensitive.
         Jacob gritted his teeth.  ÒIt tickles,Ó he said, after a moment.
         ÒThat is where I must pierce you,Ó Sarife told him.  She squirted him 
again, hitting him in the same exact spot.  ÒRight there.Ó
         ÒGod,Ó Jacob grunted.
         ÒNot God.  Me,Ó Sarife said.  ÒGod likes your penis just the way it is.  
But I wish to alter it, to put a ring through it.  After all, we girls are 
expected to have our ears pierced, even our bellies.  Cannot a man at least 
endure one piercing?Ó
         ÒYou could do it someplace else,Ó Jacob said.  There was a note of 
pleading in his voice.  I stroked his ass, loving the feel of his hard, 
muscled buns.  His helplessness.  His utter submission to me, to Sarife, to 
my aunt, even though, even now, he might at least have run away, if he 
wished, with his fast, powerful legs, and we could not have caught him.
         ÒOh yes,Ó Sarife said, as if my own thoughts had suddenly triggered 
her memory.  ÒDidnÕt I promise that you would be gagged?  And have your 
legs shackled?Ó
         There was another clap of thunder.  My aunt turned.  She looked out 
to sea.
         ÒWe must do it now, or go inside,Ó she said.  Her voice was soft, not 
insistent.  We would have pierced Jacob in the pouring rain if Sarife had 
required it.  We were all her slaves, bound to her by desire.
         ÒI am going to pierce you now, Jacob,Ó Sarife said.  She picked up the 
tongs.  With their hard, impersonal metal arms she grabbed for JacobÕs 
penis.  She caught him.  She held him.  She reached over and picked up the 
needle.
         ÒHold the tongs, Rebecca.  I must tug down a bit of his skin so that I 
can insert the needle,Ó Sarife said.
         My aunt, sitting on the wall, reached out her hand.  With trembling 
fingers she took hold of the tongs.
         ÒDo not shake,Ó Sarife told my aunt.  ÒYou are making his dick move 
around.Ó  
         My aunt bit her lip.  With one hand she took hold of the wrist of her 
other hand and steadied her grip on my loverÕs penis.  Jacob gasped.  The 
flames licked upward, as if yearning to impress themselves on his cock as 
the whip of our driver had.  Except their marks would be more long-
lasting, burning an imprint of themselves into his flesh.
         Fire and ice.
         Sarife picked up the needle.  She held it poised in her fingers.  With 
her other hand she reached up and drew on a bit of JacobÕs cockflesh.  She 
pulled the tight flesh away from the core of his muscle, that lay under his 
skin.
         ÒYou should swab him first,Ó I heard a voice say.  It was old, old as 
the waves on the beach.  We all looked up.
         There, on the other side of a dune, trudging up its grassy face toward 
us, was the old negro woman, the wife of our driver.
         ÒYou-- you came back?Ó Sarife said in a shocked voice.  She sounded 
like a child speaking, after the ancient crackle of the old womanÕs voice.
         ÒI want to make sure itÕs done right,Ó the old woman said.  She 
smiled.  Her face crinkled.  A thousand wrinkles showed.
         ÒShe must have driven up, but the storm concealed the sound of her 
carÕs engine,Ó my aunt said to Sarife.
         ÒI drove myself.  My husband is not here.  It is a dirt road.  Even an 
old woman like me canÕt get into too much trouble on it, being as thereÕs 
no traffic,Ó the driverÕs wife said.  She came over the crest of the dune, 
and down the other side.  She walked up to us.  She held out a small, 
battered first aid kit.
         ÒYou must swab him first,Ó she said again.
         ÒSwab him?Ó Sarife asked.
         ÒI thought you did this before,Ó Jacob said to Sarife.  She blushed.  
The old woman opened the first aid kit and took out a medicinal pad.  She 
placed the kit on the rock wall and tore open the pad.  She drew from it a 
tiny square of cloth.  I smelled alcohol.
         Carefully, lovingly, the old woman passed the pad around my loverÕs 
cock head.  She left a wet gleam where the pad had touched him.  The smell 
of alcohol was strong.
         ÒWe also pierce our men, here in Africa,Ó the old woman murmured.  
ÒIt is a custom, a ritual of manhood.  The women do it.  When the man has 
been pierced, then he is free to pierce the virgins of the tribe, with his 
penis.Ó
         My aunt gulped.  She put her hand to her throat.  ÒHow unique,Ó she 
said.
         ÒWe should do that in America,Ó I said.  My voice was high, delicate.  
A new flash of lightning signaled from the wastes of the sea, out on a 
horizon beyond which America lay.
         ÒThere is an acceptance of sexuality in India, and in Africa, that is 
not present in America,Ó Sarife said.  She admired the way the flames of 
the fire played on JacobÕs cock.  She dandled his balls on her fingers.  My 
aunt still held the tongs.  The old woman finished.
         ÒNow you may pierce him,Ó she said.
         JacobÕs scream fought with a spear of multi-tongued lightning for 
intensity.  His scream won.
         Afterward, Sarife gave relief to Jacob.  She jerked him off with her 
hand.  The fire hissed as his seed spilled into the flames.  Then the rain 
came.  We hurried into the house as large droplets spattered the fire, 
drowning it.
         The old woman sat downstairs in the dark, in a rocking chair, 
listening and chuckling as Jacob had his way with me.  I was a bride now, 
officially, and despite the pain of the ring ceremony Jacob did not shrink 
from his duties as a new husband.  In the morning I was sore, and the rain, 
outside, was still falling.


         We stood on a Paris street.  It was raining, as it had been raining 
when we departed from Africa.  Sarife was dressed in a black raincoat.  I 
wore a yellow slicker.  I had boots on my feet that had pictures of ducks 
on them.  One duck for each boot.  They were childish boots, but I liked 
them.  They made me feel young, not like a married woman.
         ÒNow you both are married,Ó Sarife said.  Her words were somewhat 
hushed by the traffic, and by the rain.  I looked up into JacobÕs eyes.  With 
his hand he reached down and cupped my chin.  He tugged on my face, 
lifting it.  I resisted.  He tugged harder and then bent down and kissed me, 
still grasping my chin and my cheeks, making my lips pucker to receive 
him.  ÒBut you are both still children,Ó Sarife said.  She glanced at my aunt 
and smiled.  There was smugness in her eyes, triumph.  ÒIt is the Indian 
way,Ó she said.
         ÒThey are too young to marry,Ó my aunt murmured.
         ÒOh, but that is the beauty of it, modernly,Ó Sarife said.  ÒIn former 
times, yes, the bride and the groom would immediately take up 
housekeeping together.  The husband was expected to do a vigorous job 
inseminating his new wife, and she was fully prepared to conceive.  She 
would have been quite embarrassed if, nine months after her wedding day, 
she did not deliver a bouncing new baby to her husband.Ó
         Jacob released my face from his grip.  My tongue, on the verge of 
finding its way through my lips, receded.  Jacob lifted his head away from 
mine.  Awkwardly I found myself licking my lips, tasting my lipstick 
instead of his mouth.  
         ÒChildren were a source of wealth in olden times,Ó Sarife said.  ÒAnd 
every child was a source of great pride.Ó
         ÒThe woman was a baby factory,Ó my aunt countered, her voice soft, 
almost drowned by the traffic.
         ÒToday of course there is a new dimension,Ó Sarife said.  ÒTwo 
people may marry, and then go their separate ways.  It is best, perhaps.  
The girl is expected to finish high school, and go to college, and then 
perhaps even to get an advanced degree and set herself up in a career.  And 
it is the same for the boy, of course.  But always they carry with them the 
symbol of their marriage, consummated in the heat of their youth.  The 
man with his ring, should he choose to wear it, through his member.  The 
bride with her ring, should she choose to bear it, hanging between her cunt 
lips.  In private moments by themselves they remember their commitment 
to each other.  That is the reason for the pain of the ring ceremony, for its 
necessity.  So that the marriage vows may be consummated, with a 
memorable act, yet the parties may still be free to depart from each 
other.  They will not look back on their time together as a mere tryst, as 
young people have sometimes these days.Ó  She looked at my aunt.  ÒIt is 
not uncommon, nowadays in the West, is it, for two young people to share 
a hotel room for the weekend?Ó
         ÒNo,Ó my aunt said.  Jacob grinned.  Looking at him I sensed his grin 
might have been one of complete smugness, of conquest, yet in his eyes I 
saw a flash of his memory of the ring ceremony.  He would always 
remember that.  Not only I had submitted.  He had submitted also.  Ours had 
not been merely a fling.  There had been too much torment for that, too 
much pain.  He would always remember his whipping under the tree, the 
polishing of his behind in preparation for our coupling.  And he would 
remember the needle, and the fire, and how he was both warmed and 
pierced at the same moment.
         ÒAnd so we depart,Ó Sarife said.  Jacob turned to her.
         ÒYes, I must go,Ó he said.  He looked again at me.  He seemed to wish 
to kiss me again but he did not.  ÒGoodbye, Chloe,Ó he said.
         ÒGoodbye Jacob,Ó I replied.
         ÒIÕll call you soon,Ó he said.
         ÒIt is no matter,Ó Sarife said.  ÒYou both bear the symbol of your 
submission to each other.  Remember that, as you surely must, and you 
will remember each other.Ó
         Jacob turned.  He walked away.  There was a break in the traffic and, 
looking both ways, he stepped out into the street.  Once he looked back at 
me but then a car, moving quickly, forced him to hurry on.  He waved to me 
from the safety of the sidewalk opposite ours.  I waved back.  We all did.
         ÒHow wonderful that he should win a swimming scholarship to the 
Army Preparatory Academy in America,Ó Sarife said.  She seemed to savor 
the words as she spoke them.  ÒHe is very powerful.  But he is most 
powerful where they think they have no use for him.Ó  She smiled.
         ÒYes,Ó I agreed.  ÒHe is quite powerful there.Ó                    

30

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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
  copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.  Work by others
  copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF story EMISSION