---------------------------------------------------------------
        PROBLEMS?  Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------

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

                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                      WANTON WINTER

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

                                        Chapter Seven

         The snow had melted by the time we got home, though it was still 
cold.  When I got upstairs to my bedroom I sprinkled LipsmackerÕs Anti-
Bacterial Hand Lotion on myself.  It smelled of apples.  My aunt, passing in 
the hall, looking for a ring she had lost, asked me what I was doing.
         ÒIÕm purifying myself,Ó I told her.  ÒSo I donÕt get cooties!Ó
         My aunt laughed.  She let me put a little of the Hand Lotion on her.  
We smiled at each other and she said, ÒWould you like to go out tonight, or 
would you rather stay home and watch T.V.?Ó
         ÒT.V.,Ó I told her.  ÒThe SimpsonÕs is on.Ó
         ÒAlright,Ó my aunt said.  She turned away, and hastily I asked:
         ÒAuntie, are you staying home with me?Ó  My aunt paused in the 
doorway to my bedroom.  I sensed she didnÕt want to answer.
         ÒIf youÕd like to watch T.V. it is alright,Ó my aunt said.  ÒI think 
youÕre old enough to take care of yourself, arenÕt you?Ó
         ÒAuntie,Ó I said.  ÒAre you going someplace?Ó  I looked at my aunt, 
so elegantly framed in my doorway, her back straight, her hair tumbling 
loosely down over her shoulders.  
         ÒJust-- out to eat,Ó my aunt said.  ÒBut IÕll be home late, so donÕt 
wait up for me.Ó
         ÒI want to go too, auntie!Ó I said.  I put down my bottle of 
LipsmackerÕs Hand Lotion.  I ran over to her and tugged on her dress.
         ÒDonÕt,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒTake me with you, auntie,Ó I pleaded.
         ÒChloe!Ó my aunt said.  ÒIt is just a dinner date.  I made it for 
myself.Ó
         ÒYou arenÕt going with anyone?Ó I asked.  I looked into her eyes, 
searching for truth.  How deep and beautiful her eyes were!  Hesistant, yet 
with a boldness lurking underneath.
         ÒNo,Ó my aunt said.  
         ÒOh,Ó I breathed.
         ÒIt is a restaurant IÕve been meaning to try, thatÕs all,Ó my aunt said.  
ÒI wasnÕt sure youÕd like it.  Why donÕt you just stay home and watch your 
T.V. show, and IÕll go see how it is, and tell you whether its good or not?Ó  
Her voice was high, light, false.
         ÒI want to come too, auntie,Ó I said.
         ÒChloe!Ó my aunt said.  
         ÒI canÕt let you eat all by yourself,Ó I said.
         ÒI wonÕt be the only one at the restaurant, dear.  IÕm sure there will 
be others,Ó my aunt told me.
         ÒIÕll bring my LipsmackerÕs Hand Gel, in case there are any men 
there,Ó I said.
         ÒOh, donÕt worry,Ó my aunt replied.  ÒThere will not be any men 
there, Chloe.  It is a restaurant run by a woman.  ItÕs for women only, in 
fact.  Really, you should let me go by myself.  It could prove quite boring 
without any guys there.Ó
         ÒNo guys means no cooties!Ó I said.
         ÒWell then wear a nice dress,Ó my aunt told me.  ÒA dress, Chloe, not 
just a skirt and a blouse.  And make up your face.  This restaurant has a 
dress code and we wonÕt be able to get in unless weÕre looking our best.  
Like I said, itÕs run by a woman.  We wonÕt be able to just rely on our 
natural beauty to get in.  We must actually take some pains to make 
ourselves presentable.Ó
         My aunt and I spent the next hour making ourselves look smashing.  
We put on fine long gowns and pinned up our hair.  We decorated ourselves 
with jewels and slipped into tight-fitting high heels.  Then we called a 
cab, and rode through dimly-lit streets in a gathering fog to the center of 
Paris.
         When we stepped from the cab, clutching our fur coats, the air cold 
upon our hands and faces, I looked up and saw a sign.  It was the sign of 
the restaurant we were to eat in.  It read, ÒLe bone,Ó and had a picture of a 
dog on it.  The dog was a Doberman.
         ÒAuntie,Ó I said, ÒI donÕt want to eat dog meat.Ó
         ÒDonÕt worry,Ó my aunt said.  ÒIt is an unusual restaurant, but they 
do not serve dogs.  Not in the sense of eating them, anyway.Ó  She looked 
at me.  Her eyes were bright, and looked a little apprehensive.  I wondered 
what she could be getting us into.  This was definitely a restaurant.  I 
could tell just by looking at it.  How could she possibly be worried about 
our having a meal, especially if no men were allowed in the place.
         ÒWell, I want a hamburger,Ó I told her.  ÒMade of cowÕs meat, or 
whatever hamburgers are made of.  Are they made of ham, auntie?  I donÕt 
want a hamburger if theyÕre made of ham, because ham comes from a pig!Ó
         My aunt took my hand.  She led me along the red-carpeted walkway 
that led to the restaurantÕs door.  A prim young woman in a cap and jacket 
stood by the door and looked at us and nodded.  I guessed she was the door 
girl, for there could obviously not be a door man if no men were allowed!
         We went inside.  A second girl in a cap and jacket met us and 
removed our coats for us.  Then we were greeted by the MaitÕre De.  She 
was a tall woman, wearing a black sequined gown.  There were boots on 
her feet.  They were ebony, polished to a bright gloss.  She had short hair.  
It was almost like a crewcut, except fuller, appropriate for a woman who 
desires her hair to be short but still wishes to retain an air of femininity.  
A ÒbutchÓ haircut one might have called it, but that is such a crude word, 
and she did not appear in the least bit crude.  She smiled at us.  We smiled 
back at her and I marvelled at her chest.  Despite being a ÒbutchÓ type 
woman she had a delicate face, like Sinead OÕConnor, and breasts any man 
would have died for.  They were big and slumbrous and pushed out her gown 
toward me.  They bounced temptingly with her every move; a fine carriage 
worthy of a Queen.
         ÒI am Hilda,Ó our hostess told us.  We gave her our first names and 
she checked her roster to see that we had made an appointment.
         ÒOh.  There is only an appointment for one,Ó Hilda said, looking at her 
list.  ÒFor Rebecca.Ó
         My aunt blushed.  ÒMy neice insisted on coming,Ó Rebecca said.
         ÒOh,Ó Hilda said.  She looked at me.  ÒYou are quite young,Ó she said.
         ÒShe is-- not inexperienced,Ó my aunt told her.
         ÒOh,Ó Hilda said again.  I wondered what my aunt meant.  How could I 
be inexperienced at eating in restaurants?  IÕd been doing it since I was a 
baby!
         ÒAlright,Ó Hilda said.  She put a check mark by RebeccaÕs name and 
wrote mine underneath it, then put a check mark by my name too.  She put 
down her list and led us to a table.  We sat down.  I looked around the 
restaurant.  In the hushed light I saw only a few others, all female, some 
sitting by themselves and others sitting in ones or twos.
         A waitress appeared.  She was neatly dressed.  She had a ponytail 
and a bib around her waist.  Her blouse was white.  She wore a black skirt 
and long black stockings.  She gave us menus.  I studied mine for dog meat, 
but found none listed.
         ÒI want a hamburger, auntie,Ó I said.
         ÒThis is a very nice restaurant, Chloe, with an excellent chef,Ó my 
aunt told me.  ÒWe are going to have a fine seven course meal; soup, salad, 
and IÕll have the roast salmon,Ó she said to our waitress.  
         I looked at my menu.  ÒIÕll have the same, I guess,Ó I said at last.  
Our waitress wrote it all down.  She had black hair, like many French girls 
so, with perfect white skin.  Her nametag read ÒAnnabelleÓ.  When she was 
done taking our order she looked at my aunt and asked,
         ÒAnd how about me?  Do you like me?Ó  My aunt blushed a little and 
nodded.
         ÒYou will be just fine,Ó my aunt said.
         The girl turned and left.  I watched her as she walked.  Her hips 
wriggled salaciously, carefree yet inviting.  She was no older than my 
aunt, perhaps only 18 or 17.  She had a delicate lilt to her step and I was 
glad she was our waitress.  When she had disappeared I turned to my aunt 
and asked,
         ÒAuntie, why does it matter if we like her or not?  I mean, itÕs nice 
of her to ask, but in most places the waitress doesnÕt say that.Ó
         My aunt fiddled with her napkin.  She unfolded it, then folded it up 
again, as if admiring the elegant way it had been placed on our table.
         ÒIt-- it is important here,Ó my aunt said.  She looked at me.  She 
cleared her throat, a high, nervous cough, and added, ÒI told you this 
restaurant would be a little different, Chloe.  ThatÕs why I wanted to come 
by myself.Ó
         ÒWell, she is a nice waitress,Ó I said.
         ÒIÕm glad you like her,Ó my aunt replied.
         The MaitÕre De glided past our table.  She looked at us and smiled.
         ÒIs everything fine?Ó she asked.  My aunt nodded.  I nodded too.  She 
walked on, leaving us to wait for our dinner.
         After a few minutes our waitress returned.  She brought a tray.  
There were twin glasses of water on it, each with a slice of lemon.  She 
placed the glasses on our table and then, as my aunt and I each sipped our 
water, the waitress did a most unusual thing.  She put two items down on 
our table.  They were made of leather.  She put one by me and one by my 
aunt.  They were dog collars.
         ÒWhenever youÕre ready,Ó our waitress said to my aunt.  Then she 
left us.
         ÒAuntie, what is this?Ó I asked.  I picked up the collar.  My aunt 
lifted hers off the table and smiled at me and said, 
         ÒPut it around your neck.Ó
         I looked at her.  I watched as Rebecca, perfectly coiffed and made-
up, wearing her best gown, slipped the dog collar around her throat.  It 
was thick and heavy.  It had a big buckle in the front and she deftly closed 
the buckle upon herself.  Rebecca blushed and insisted I do the same.  I did, 
awkwardly, fitting the dog collar to my neck, wondering all the while 
what Rebecca was getting us into.
         ÒI thought we were going to eat salmon,Ó I said to my aunt.
         ÒWe are, dear, donÕt worry,Ó Rebecca replied.
         When I had managed to get on my collar, we both sipped some more 
of our water.  I wondered why we needed collars to eat, but there was 
nobody to ask, save my aunt, and she wasnÕt saying.  I looked around me.  
The other diners had all disappered.  I wondered where they had gone.  I 
hadnÕt seen them eating when we came in, just sitting at their tables, 
talking quietly.  
         Our waitress returned.  She looked at our necks and said, ÒIf you will 
please come with me.Ó
         My aunt rose.  I wondered why we were leaving but I got up too.  I 
reached to take off my collar but instead my aunt took my hand and said,
         ÒNo, Chloe.  Leave it on.Ó
         We followed our waitress.  We walked to the end of the room and she 
opened a door for us.  ÒEverything but the collars,Ó she said to my aunt.
         ÒWe may keep our shoes?Ó my aunt asked our waitress.
         ÒYes, of course,Ó Annabelle said.  ÒAnd your jewels if you like.Ó
         Annabelle closed the door.  She left us to ourselves, in a small 
anteroom.  My aunt, still holding my hand, led me from this room through a 
door into a second, larger room.  I saw at once that it was a room like you 
find at the gym, with benches and lockers.  We stood alone in it and my 
aunt said to me,
         ÒTake off your gown, Chloe.  Turn around.  IÕll unzip it for you.Ó
         ÒBut auntie!Ó I whined.  ÒI thought we were going to dinner!Ó
         ÒWe are,Ó my aunt said.  ÒTurn around, dear.  I told you this was an 
ususual restaurant.Ó
         ÒItÕs MOST unusual,Ó I said, ÒIf I must take off my gown and put on a 
collar!Ó  But I turned, my curiosity up, and I let my aunt unzip me.  When 
she had my gown off, and I had stepped out of it and let her hang it up for 
me in a locker, my aunt unhooked my bra.
         ÒAuntie!Ó I cried.  ÒYou are getting me completely undressed!Ó
         ÒOf course, dear,Ó my aunt said.  ÒIÕm undressing too.  DonÕt complain 
about it.  Take off your panties.  Then take off your shoes and slip out of 
your stockings also.  After that you may put your shoes back on, though you 
will not actually be doing much walking.  Nonetheless they will make you 
look prettier.Ó
         ÒI should think IÕll be doing a lot of sitting, so I can eat!Ó I told her.  
ÒIÕm hungry.  Are we really going to have roast salmon, auntie?Ó I asked.
         ÒYes, dear.  I promise,Ó my aunt said.  I watched her undress.  She did 
it decorously, unselfconsciously, her hands moving swiftly, easily over 
her perfect body.  
         ÒAre we going swimming, auntie?Ó I asked her.
         ÒNo, dear,Ó my aunt said.
         ÒItÕs not smart to eat and swim at the same time,Ó I said.  ÒYou 
might get cramps and drown.Ó
         We finished undressing.  I looked at myself in a mirror.  I was 
completely naked, wearing just my jewels and my shoes, with my hair 
pinned up elegantly, and a dog collar around my thorat.  I looked at my 
aunt.  She was as bare as I was, but still managed to look ravishing, 
despite the fact that she had not a stitch on.
         At either end of our dressing room there was a door.  Both were 
closed, but I heard now, at the far end, on a door we had yet to pass 
through, a knock.  It was light, not insistent.  My aunt, stepping with quick, 
shy steps, went to the door and opened it and peeked out.
         ÒYour dinner is ready,Ó I heard Annabelle say.  I wondered how she 
had managed to leave us at one end of the room, and pass round to the far 
end.  My aunt nodded.  She looked over her shoulder at me.
         ÒCome, Chloe,Ó my aunt said.  I walked to the door.  I put a hand in 
hers and she drew me through the door.
         ÒNo.  Do not walk,Ó Annabelle told us.  ÒYou must both kneel.  From 
now on you will crawl, on all fours.Ó
         ÒWhat?Ó I asked.  But Rebecca, obeying Annabelle, though she was 
only our waitress, knelt down on the floor.  Since my hand was in hers, my 
aunt managed to bring me down to my knees too.  Then my aunt let go of 
my hand and rested her palms on the floor.  She looked at me.  
         ÒGet on all fours, Chloe,Ó Rebecca told me.
         ÒAuntie!Ó I cried.
         ÒIs there a problem?Ó I heard a voice ask.  Heels clicked on the hard 
tiled floor.  I looked up and saw Hilda.  She stood over me, tall and regal, 
with her bust prominent and imposing.  She looked down at me, crouched 
on the floor.  ÒChloe, is it?Ó Hilda asked.  ÒYou are a dog now, Chloe.  
ThatÕs why my restaurant is called ÔLe boneÕ.  It is a celebration of all 
things canine, and of the similarities between canines and the human 
female.  Get on your hands and knees, Chloe.  Your dinner is ready.  Seven 
courses, just like your aunt ordered.  I wouldnÕt be happy if your dinner 
grew cold.  We have one of the finest female chefs in the world and she 
worked hard to prepare your meal.Ó
         I looked up at Hilda.  My eyes were big, bug eyes, and I sensed she 
was not unused to dealing with girls who showed recalcitrance.  She 
turned and spoke softly to our waitress and the girl nodded and drew back.  
A moment later she reappeared, and she passed a heavy wooden object to 
Hilda.  It was a paddle.
         Quickly I got on all fours.  I looked up at Hilda, praying she wouldnÕt 
spank me.  She hefted the paddle in her hand, amused at how my bottom 
stuck out behind me now that I had obeyed her.  I was slim, young, with an 
apple-round ass that stuck out behind me in twin perfect spheres of flesh.
         ÒVery good, Chloe,Ó Hilda said.  ÒYou will now crawl to your dinner.  
ItÕs right around the corner, waiting for you.  Do not at any time rise up 
off your knees.  You will stay on all fours for the rest of the night.  You 
will eat here, and when you must relieve yourself you will do it in the 
manner of a dog.  When you get sleepy you may lie down and rest, just like 
a dog would.  In the morning you will be permitted to leave.Ó  She smiled.  
ÒAnd yes, Chloe, if you are accustomed to it, then that will happen also, 
later this evening.  You will be mounted and mated, just like a female 
dog.Ó
         ÒAuntie!Ó I cried.  Frantically I looked at my aunt.  But I remained on 
my hands and knees, for I could sense that Hilda felt no compunction about 
connecting that big wooden paddle with my behind.  In fact, I supposed she 
would enjoy it.
         As for Rebecca, she offered me no solace.  She knelt perfectly on all 
fours, her back dipped, her bottom raised up like a slender, elegant dog.  
Her breasts hung heavily under her, full cones of flesh that looked ready to 
suckle a whole litter of puppies.  Her nipples were stiff.  Her eyes were 
closed but her lips were parted.  As she knelt beside me she gently wagged 
her ass back and forth.  She was a happy dog.
         ÒWag your tail, Chloe,Ó Hilda said.  ÒDo like your aunt is doing.  How 
easily and well she takes on the role of a dog!Ó
         ÒOh, I do not want to be a dog,Ó I whined.  But I offered my ass more 
completely, and pressed down the small of my back, and gently, ever so 
shyly, I wiggled my ass.
         ÒVery nice, Chloe,Ó Hilda said.  ÒYou will make a good dog.  Now I 
want both of you to crawl forward to your dinner.  Right around the corner 
here is where you will find it.  Come, doggies!  DonÕt make me put leashes 
on you and pull you.Ó
         We crawled.  I felt like an animal, moving on my hands and knees, my 
face so close to the floor.  My breasts wiggled as I crawled.  We rounded 
the corner and an amazing sight greeted my eyes.
         The diners IÕd seen earlier were all there.  They were all naked, 
securely collared, and on all fours, like myself and my aunt.  They were 
eating their dinner, but from dog dishes, each course served in turn, by 
fetching young waitresses in tasteful uniforms.
         Along one wall was a row of cages.  Above it was a sign that read, 
ÒDog PoundÓ.  Some of the cages were empty but in other cages girls sat 
trapped, nude and wearing their collars, gazing out at me from between 
the bars with soulful eyes.  There were other items in the room:  A tub 
where a girl could be washed, complete with brushes for brushing her hair 
out after her bath.  There was also a pillory, where a girl could be bound 
by her feet, still kneeling on the floor, and given a spanking with a leather 
strap that hung on the wall.  There was also a pair of boards through which 
a girlÕs neck could be fitted, to hold her in place while she was mated.  Yet 
amidst all this horror I saw that the girls who were not busy eating, or 
locked in their cages, were curled on the floor, softly sleeping, like 
pampered pets.  They seemed to be enjoying their collars and their 
captivity.  I wondered at such submission.  Was I too capable of it?  I 
looked at my aunt.  She kept her eyes, which were open now, straight 
ahead, crawling along beside me, her breasts shaking under her and her 
nipples stiff.
         We were led to a pair of bowls.  In each one there was a salad.  I saw 
fresh lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, mushrooms and bits of cheese.  It was a 
royal chefÕs salad, served in a doggie dish.  I looked up.  Annabelle stood 
over me.  She was balancing a container of condiments in her hands, and 
she asked me what sort of salad dressing I preferred.
         ÒThousand Island,Ó I said.  My voice was small, soft, obedient.  I 
watched Annabelle as she dipped a spoon into one of the containers she 
held.  Then she bent and poured out orange dressing onto my salad, in my 
dog dish.  ÒNot too much,Ó I told her.  ÒI still sort of like eating salad 
plain.Ó
         Annabelle gave me just a little of the Thousand Island.  Then she 
asked my aunt which she preferred.
         ÒRanch,Ó my aunt said.  Annabelle served her.  ÒPut it on thick,Ó 
Rebecca said.  
         ÒNow eat,Ó Hilda, still hovering near us, ordered.  I did as I was told.  
I put my face down into my doggie dish and pushed my mouth against my 
salad.  How strange it was, eating this way!  I felt my bottom high up in 
the air behind me, and hoped Hilda wouldnÕt be tempted to spank it.  Beside 
me I heard my aunt crunch into her salad.  It was tough to eat it without 
smearing it all over my face.  I wondered how she was managing, with her 
dressing spread so thickly.  I did my best to eat delicately, sticking my 
tongue into my salad, trying to draw up the leaves with it.  But really 
when you got down to it you just had to push your face into the food, there 
was no other way to get at it.  I felt the bowl looming around me, I felt my 
collar sturdy upon my neck.  In the distance I heard someone tell one of the 
girls that she had spilled some of her food, causing it to fall out of her 
bowl onto the floor.
         ÒYou are a bad dog,Ó the woman said.  ÒI shall have to put you in the 
pillory and punish you, so that you learn to eat properly.Ó  
         A shiver ran down my spine to my tail bone.  I wasnÕt sure Hilda 
would go to the trouble of locking me into a pillory.  She seemed eager to 
use the heavy paddle she held; I could just feel that thing whacking with 
sudden vigor upon my ass.  Gently I ate my food, trying hard not to knock 
any out of my bowl.  Eating on my hands and knees in front of all these 
people was already humiliating enough.  I didnÕt want the extra 
embarrassment of being spanked!
         With my fanny undulating nervously back and forth, I finished my 
salad.  I looked up at Annabelle.  There was dressing upon my lips.  She 
bent and wiped my face with a napkin.  Then she stepped over to my aunt, 
who knelt next to me, and wiped her face too.
         ÒThere, you have both done very well,Ó Annabelle told us.  ÒNow it is 
time for your soup!Ó

         We fed for an hour.  We were relatively neat; I only let a little of my 
food fall out of my doggie dish, and was apparently forgiven for it.  
Nothing was permitted to be wasted.  My aunt and I had to lick our bowls 
clean after each course of our meal before the next course was put in it.  
Wine was served in large goblets, placed on the floor.  Water was also 
served, the same way, and my aunt and I drank our fill, lapping at the fluid 
in the goblet as dogs did.  When we were at last done eating, my belly was 
full.  Hilda told us both we could rest if we wished.  Since we had both 
been Ògood, obedient dogsÓ, as she put it, my aunt and I were free to find 
any spot we fancied and lie down for our nap, restrained only by our 
collars.
         Eating on my hands and knees had made me tired.  Gratefully I found 
a place in a corner and curled into it.  I fell sound asleep, despite being in 
such a strange place, surrounded by strangers.  When I awoke I saw my 
aunt, her hair slightly disheveled, picking up a rolled newspaper off the 
floor with her mouth.
         ÒYes, fetch doggie!Ó Hilda was saying to her.  The woman still wore 
her black sequined gown, but now instead of holding a paddle in her hand 
she held a walking stick.  My aunt, naked and all fours, brought the 
newspaper to Hilda with her mouth.  Hilda bent down and took it from her.  
Then, smiling at how my auntÕs mouth had left saliva on the paper, Hilda 
tossed it out into the room again, and it landed once more on the floor.  
ÒFetch!Ó Hilda commanded anew.  My aunt rushed to get the paper, crawling 
fast on her hands and knees, her breasts wobbling freely under her chest, 
her nipples bright red and stiffly-tipped.  She bent low, picked up the 
paper.  I admired the curve of her untanned bottom.  How strange it looked 
to see her, with the tan lines of her absent swimsuit showing, her ass and 
breasts lovely and white, yet behaving like a dog!  Once more my aunt 
brought the paper to Hilda, and once more Hilda took it from her and then 
tossed it back out into the room.
         ÒOh, auntie!Ó I cried.
         ÒShhh.  She is having her exercise,Ó Hilda told me.

         If you have never spoken to someone on all fours, yourself on all 
fours, it is a rather unique experience.  I bumped into a girl as I left my 
sleeping spot, a girl like me, collared and on her hands and knees.  She 
smiled.  I smiled back.  She asked me my name and I told her.  We chatted.  
It was quite unusual, for we spoke about many things, but at no time about 
our situation.  We talked just as we would if weÕd bumped at each other at 
school, or in the park, yet all the while we were kneeling like dogs, and 
wearing dog collars.  Finally we parted, and I went my way, and she hers, 
both of us crawling across the floor.  She went to her waitress, who 
served as her master.  I was going to crawl to Annabelle but then I 
blushed, feeling a need inside me, and decided not to.
         After a little while I spoke to another girl.  She was kneeling on the 
floor and had wonderful blonde curls, and a high, well-shaped rump.  Her 
bosoms were heavy and free, like mine, and she seemed to enjoy being able 
to swing them about as she crawled.  We exchanged small talk for a few 
minutes.  Then, blushing, I said to her:
         ÒExcuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom.  What should I do?  Ask 
for permission to get up and go use it?Ó
         ÒOh, you just lift your leg!Ó she laughed.  Her curls bounced.  ÒEven 
though we are girl dogs, we pee like boy dogs do.  Its the rule.  It amuses 
our masters, I suppose.Ó  She lifted her leg and a jet of urine came 
squirting out of her cunt.  ÒSee?Ó she told me.  ÒSome girls go around the 
corner to do it but I donÕt mind being seen.  ItÕs our one consolation, that 
we can pee wherever and whenever we please.  DonÕt worry.  Someone will 
come and clean it up.  IÕm just a puppy, anyway.  This is my first time 
here.  Puppies arenÕt house-broken, you know.Ó  She laughed.
         And, indeed, a maid did come and clean up her puddle, bringing a mop 
and bucket to do it with.  At the same time another maid bent and 
examined the blondeÕs legs and buttocks, and wiped away the bit of urine 
that had splashed onto her as she peed.  I watched with my teeth biting my 
lip.  Could I bear to be like that?  I wondered if I could go around the 
corner to do it, or if Hilda would scold me.  As I watched the blonde having 
herself cleaned, I felt my need increase.  I pressed my thighs together.  
Hilda must have read my thoughts, or seen my posture, for she came up 
behind me and said,
         ÒWhatÕs this?  Does somebody have to go to the bathroom?  Chloe?  
Please pee if you have to, Chloe, and since this is your first visit, you will 
do it right out here, in front of everyone.  No going around the corner for 
you.  Piss on the floor right here, where we can all see it.  Come, puppy.  
DonÕt torment yourself, for heavenÕs sake.  Let it right out if you have to!Ó
         I did.  I peed in front of the girls in the cages and the girls who were 
still eating their dinner, and the girls who were lying on the floor sleeping 
like dogs.  My aunt fetched her newspaper while I peed, and when I was 
done a maid cleaned the floor for me and another maid checked my derriere 
and my legs and wiped me.
         ÒVery good, Chloe,Ó Hilda told me when I was done.  ÒYou donÕt need 
permission to pee.  Just do it whenever you feel like.  One of the maids 
will take care of cleaning up your mess.  You are, after all, a guest at my 
restaurant, and entitled to some privledges.Ó
         Later that evening, when everyone had eaten, and I was resting 
again, on the floor, a girl came into the room on all fours.  She had a pony 
tail.  It was black, and at once I thought of Annabelle.  She had a hood over 
her head.  It was made of black leather.  There was a hole in the back of 
the hood for her pony tail and holes for her eyes and nostrils.  A zipper, 
zipped closed, was where her mouth should have been.  I trembled at the 
sight of her, crawling across the floor in a hood.  She was being led by a 
leash, held by Hilda.  A harness was around AnnabelleÕs waist.  It was a 
harness for a dildo, and between her legs a big one was hanging down, 
swinging stiffly as she crawled.
         Hilda led Annabelle by her leash across the room to where my aunt 
was sleeping.  Hilda roused my aunt, kicking her nude figure gently with 
her booted foot.  Then Hilda bent down and took hold of my aunt by her 
collar.  She made my aunt rise to her hands and knees.  Then she drew my 
aunt over to the wooden slats built for mating.  She put my auntÕs head 
between the slats.  Then she tightened them.  
         My auntÕs face looked frightened.  I watched as Hilda opened a bottle 
of oil and sprinkled some on her finger and then inserted it into my auntÕs 
behind.  She lubricated her bottom.  She paid no attention to her cunt.  My 
aunt whimpered, but Hilda either did not hear her or did not care.  When my 
auntÕs nether hole had been lubricated Hilda took AnnabelleÕs leash and 
drew her over to where my aunt was kneeling.  As my aunt waited, her 
head trapped in the mating booth, Hilda put vaseline all over AnnabelleÕs 
dildo.  Annabelle sat quietly, watching through the eye slits of her hood.  
The dildo she wore remained stiff as Hilda fondled it.  There was no 
chance of it spurting.
         ÒMount!Ó Hilda ordered our waitress, when the dildo had been 
prepared.  The girl kissed my auntÕs bare bottom, and then rose up behind 
her, like a male dog, and presented her fake cock to my auntÕs ass.  My aunt 
tensed.  Annabelle pushed the dildo against my auntÕs hole.  My aunt 
shrieked.  Girls turned their heads to look, but said nothing.  Hilda stood 
over Annabelle, watching, her hands on her hips.  With firm, obedient 
pressure, Annabelle introduced the fake cock into my auntÕs rectum.
         I was next.  I had no choice.  My aunt was pulled from the mating 
booth after she was fucked and Hilda made me take her place.  AnnabelleÕs 
cock was washed and then relubricated.  I was made to offer my bottom 
and she stuck her thing into me, making me cry out, making me hurt.
         Later, my aunt and I were both made to offer ourselves again, this 
time without the need of the booth, for it was intended that we should be 
taken via our cunts.  Hilda herself did us this time, stripped nude, wearing 
a cock harness.  I accepted her as best I was able; she selected a 
particularly large dildo for me, and it was difficult for me to take it.
         ÒShe will need to visit here again,Ó Hilda told my aunt afterward.  
ÒShe is quite tight.  But with repeated visits, I think I can get her to open 
completely.Ó
         ÒYes,Ó my aunt answered, with dog-like obedience.  But after weÕd 
both been put in a cab, dressed again, wearing our furs, I made her promise 
me that we would never visit ÒLe boneÓ again.

30

----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories):  type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Find the box labelled ÒMain ArchiveÓ.
Change ÒMain ArchiveÓ to ÒComplete ArchiveÓ.

Next, do you see a blank box labelled ÒPower SearchÓ ?
Type in:  roller666@earthlink.net   in the blank box on the screen
   that has ÒPower SearchÓ written next to it.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).

-Other providers:  
Usenet Newsgroup:  alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail:  file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web:  http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/

-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for:  Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
  Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton:  A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
  of an Artist      Need a book?  http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18!  Plus scholarly books.  Publishing for over
  a decade, itÕs AlessandraÕs Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
 10185-2377.  Phone:  1-212-505-6985; Web:
  http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization!  Send $35.00 to The North
  American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
  NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
  Phone:  1-212-807-8578; Web:  http://www.nambla.org
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
  copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION