Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in BUSH LEAGUE Chapter Two We returned to the castle. Stepping out of the limo, I gazed up at it. From a solid facade vine-covered spires rose up to pierce the high, scudding clouds. The driver ushered us inside. Polly was still playing Centipede. He had to guide her steps to keep her from stumbling on the stairs that led up the castle door. He was like Lurch, our driver. Tall, silent, tuxedoed, with big hands and a bow tie. I turned my face up and looked at him but he ignored me. ÒAre you gay?Ó I needled him. ÒI,Ó he paused. ÒI serve,Ó was all he said in reply. Nothing more. A mysterious man. Inside we found Rose sitting in the parlor with Louis and Andre. They were each reading a newspaper, she was knitting. I let my eyes flit over their crotches but saw no sign of movement. Just as I suspected. But they were hardy men. TheyÕd be up for more antics soon, I had no doubt. As for me, I was feeling a bit sleepy, despite the sunshine outside. ÒHow was your visit to child protective services?Ó Rose asked. She did not look up from her knitting. ÒFleurry tried to take the worldÕs biggest prick up her bottom,Ó Polly reported. Rose cocked her eyebrow. ÒReally?Ó she asked, still knitting. ÒWas it bigger even than LouisÕs?Ó ÒOf course it was bigger than LouisÕs!Ó Polly replied, as I stood blushing beside her. ÒWhat?Ó Louis asked, looking up for the first time from his paper. He turned to Rose. ÒI thought you sent them to child protective services!Ó He seemed jealous. Despite his thoroughly relaxed crotch. ÒI did, darling,Ó Rose replied to Louis. She pulled the yarn through her knitting and lofted it high, finishing off a corner of the pouch she was sewing. ÒYou donÕt have to insult my cock just because you donÕt like it,Ó Louis said to both Polly and I, thinking, perhaps, that we were in cahoots in her comments. ÒI like your cock, Louis, but this one was bigger,Ó Polly teased. She sashayed past him. ÒWhere are you going, dear?Ó Rose asked her. ÒSwimming!Ó Polly replied. She unzipped the back of her dress as she headed out the back of the parlor. A moment later and there was nothing but her dress on the floor. Beyond that, following just a little, but not leaving the parlor, I saw her panties abandoned on the rug. So much for being an innocent schoolgirl. ÒI need a nap,Ó I said, sauntering over the couch on which Louis and Andre were sitting. I guess a year makes a difference sometimes. Either that or the sheer rigor of what IÕd been through, being anally probed, whipped the night before, fucked this morning. ÒDonÕt lie down here if you donÕt like my cock,Ó Louis warned. I plopped down beside him anyway and let my head fall back into his crotch. It felt satisfied beneath me, though I detected perhaps a slight bulging when I looked up at him, babylike and parted my lips. ÒGoo,Ó I said to Louis. ÒYouÕre my daddy now. Please donÕt spank me for trying to take the worldÕs biggest cock up my ass.Ó ÒGo to your room if you want to sleep, Fleurry,Ó Rose told me. ÒWe have a party tonight and the men need to save up their energy for it.Ó She looked up from her knitting. ÒWhere it counts.Ó ÒOh, IÕm too tired to get up now,Ó I said, yawning. ÒUp! Scat! Or I wonÕt invite you to the party tonight,Ó Rose told me. ÒIÕll lock you up in your room and who knows who might visit you then? YouÕll have to lie awake all night waiting, just to see.Ó Somehow I found the energy to spring up from the couch. ÒYou are a bitch, Rose,Ó I told our hostess. I stalked from the room, feeling quite mature and grown-up. I might be her guest, or, rather, a female brought here by my boyfriend Louis to be trained to be a love slave, but I didnÕt like being ordered around. Not all the time, anyway. I think I was getting grumpy in my sleepiness. Rose ignored me. Louis and Andre went back to reading their newspapers. I ascended the stairs, broad polished steps that made me feel like Scarlet at Tara. Now I knew why I liked this place. Mingled with the sense of submission was an extraordinary freedom. And binding it all was RoseÕs mindbending sense of elegance. I stopped to look at a Monet hanging halfway up the stairs. Water lillies. It was a reproduction of course, but it was still pretty. I proceeded up the rest of the stairs and down the hall to my room. I undressed slowly and carefully lay my schoolgirl clothes on a chair. Someone would come and hang them for me, or iron them, or wash them or whatever needed to be done, but I still wanted to be neater, at least, than Polly. When I stripped to my panties, though, I tip-toed to my window. I drew back the drapes. I took my underpants off and, leaning out the window just a little, I dropped them. They fluttered toward the ground. From a distance they looked like a handkerchief or, when the wind briefly caught them, like a dove. I watched them until they landed in the grass. Then I slipped into bed and pulled up my covers and waited to see if anybody would find them. My door to my room was unlocked. Perhaps heÕd bring them to me, whoever he was, and graciously return them. Or perhaps heÕd just be Branson, whip in hand, come with my panties and ready to scold me for tossing them out the window. I shuddered and turned on my side and tried not to think of that possibility. As I shut my eyes, sleep overcame me. I had slept perhaps an hour or two when, just lingering on the edge of sleep, I heard my bedroom door open. Rose entered. She had a folded parasol in her hand which she laid down just inside my door, as if sheÕd been out walking. She held aloft my panties that IÕd dropped from my window. She let them dangle from her finger, significantly, it seemed to me. I felt a shiver run down my back to my tailbone. ÒYou seem to have lost these,Ó Rose said in a low, disciplined voice. ÒI-Ó What could I say? I should have put them away, I guess, but I wanted to be naughty. I wanted to tease and taunt passersby under my window. A man might have come to the castle to get closer to his wife and then, strolling along with her on the castle grounds, he might have seen my panties, the panties of a mere 14-year-old girl, and suddenly his mind might be gripped with an insensate lust for someone much younger than his wife. For me, Fleurry. Rose moved closer to me and her figure, fully formed and with its dominant bust line, overshadowed me as I lay in my bed. Her breasts, couched in a low cut gown, but with a series of straps leading up to her neck where they formed a tight collar, loomed large and impressive. Twin hindenburgs, filled with hot air and ready to burst upon me. ÒMay I remind you, Fleurry, that while you are given many freedoms here at my castle, you are in fact not free. You are expected to behave as LouisÕ love slave, especially when he is present. He was not the least amused to find two young men eagerly inquiring as to the possessor of these panties. They seemed to think they had a right to return them to the Ôpoor girl,Õ as they called you, whoÕd ÔlostÕ them. A fight almost ensued right in my living room. I had the men ejected, of course. They should not have been invited in the first place if they are going to let their lust get out of hand like that. But I mustnÕt let you go unpunished for such an indiscretion, clever and sexy as it might have been. Least because it caused me trouble, and thatÕs enough of a standard for me.Ó ÒOh, IÕm sorry,Ó I begged her. I drew my covers tightly under my chin. ÒYou are not Polly,Ó Rose told me. ÒYou are older, and more experienced. Do you wish to remain my guest at the castle, or should I send you home now?Ó She took my covers from my hands, persuading them out of my grip. ÒNo-- no I like it here,Ó I answered, truthfully, though I felt my tummy all aflutter. She pulled down my sheets and my bedcover and looked at my nude body. The panties, so important a moment ago, lay dropped on the covers and got rolled under them as she drew them down. ÒLook at you, you didnÕt even bathe before getting into your nice clean bed,Ó Rose said. Then, speculatively, she took both my breasts in her hands and palped them, squeezed my tits a little, as if she might be picking up where Glenda had left off. ÒPolly resists sometimes, but I do not expect you to, Fleurry. You are to obey. You are old enough to understand this. I will have JoAnn and Sylvia come and bathe you. You are entitled to that, at least, as a prisoner. This is not a real prison, as I sometimes have to remind Branson. It is a prison of love. Your cuffs will be put back on after your bath, and your collar too. Then you will report to me, downstairs, and I will punish you for throwing your panties out the window.Ó I felt my hands slip quickly beneath my bottom. ÒOh, not on my heinie!Ó I begged. ÒIt hurts still from last night!Ó ÒWherever Louis wishes it, thatÕs where it will be done,Ó Rose said. She bent low and kissed my forehead. ÒYou are loved, my dear. Never forget that. You are a captive of love. The men may mistreat you sometimes, but it is only because they enjoy seeing your young little body wriggling around, showing all your forbidden parts. There will be time enough in life for your mind, my dear. Now is the time for your body. We must awaken it to all the pleasures of life. Think of all the dowdy girls who long for love, but find none or, worse, find themselves shunned, ostracized by their peers because theyÕre too fat, or wear glasses, or have stupid hair that just wonÕt set right.Ó ÒI still donÕt want to be punished,Ó I mourned. ÒOf course you donÕt,Ó Rose replied. ÒNo girl does. I didnÕt. But a sharp slap on your beautiful fanny is nothing compared to what those other girls suffer, the ones who waste their lives reading Tiger Beat long after they should have outgrown it, because nobody likes them and nobody plays with them.Ó Rose pulled down the front of her dress and her tits bulged out, her nipples and tit flesh extruded up by the bunched down gown. She offered me her nipples. They were coral-tipped, like jewels. ÒLick my nipples,Ó Rose told me. ÒSuck them, yes, ah like a baby you suck!Ó she exclaimed, as I, hoping perhaps to win a repreive, took her nearest nipple tip in my mouth and sucked on it urgently. ÒGood, good,Ó Rose told me, encouraging my hopes. I let my eyes bulge wide and I suckled her breasts as if my life depended on it for, indeed, my bottom no doubt did! When IÕd made one of her jug-like breasts all wet at its tip with my saliva I went to her other one. I sucked on it just as greedily. I was hungry for her forgiveness. Rose seemed torn between lifting her dress and frigging herself and desisting. Alas for me, her conscience won out. ÒEnough!Ó she declared, and tore my lips from her bosom. ÒGo fill your tub. JoAnn and Sylvia will be fetched and in attendance on you. Obey them. Do not fight them. Let them wash you and prepare you.Ó ÒBut-Ó I begged. I did not want my hard work to be wasted. ÒI will put in a good word with Louis,Ó Rose replied. ÒYou fucked him this afternoon while I was at child protective services,Ó I snapped at her. Rose put her palm over my mouth. She lowered her teeth to my right nipple. She clamped her incisors over it. Within the cold grip of her teeth she let the tip of her tongue flick across my tender nipple tip. ÒDo you feel this?Ó she asked, squeezing my nipple harder with her teeth, making me really feel its presence. Her words were understandable despite her clenched jaws. ÒYes!Ó I breathed. ÒI am in charge,Ó Rose told me. I nodded, watching her bite my nipple. She unclenched it. Smiling, she lifted her head, licked her teeth with her tongue. Her hand found my other nipple and pinched it. ÒOw!Ó I said. ÒOne hour,Ó Rose warned me. ÒThen I expect you to be downstairs and all ready for your punishment, whatever it may be. Tell JoAnn and Sylvia to keep track of the time.Ó ÒYes, mistress,Ó I said quietly. She unfolded my bedcovers. She drew my panties out of them and inspected them. Then she reached past my head and tossed them out the window. ÒWhat-?Ó I began. Her breasts swung over my face like ripe watermelon. ÒLove is obedience, my dear,Ó Rose told me. She patted my face. ÒYou will make a good wife someday because I will have trained you well.Ó She turned and walked away from my bed, toward the door. I watched as her hips undulated with a blatant sexuality. She did not intend it, I think. She was just so perfectly formed, so fulsome, with a waspish waist, that her hips could do naught but invite the eye, and make men especially lust after her tail. I wondered if I might someday take a whip to her tush. The thought made my spot tingle. I donÕt know why, but seeing her bent over and howling sent a shiver of pleasure through my belly and up my thighs. Yes! Despite all she did to me, I vowed someday it would be my turn. IÕd show her how well IÕd learned all her love lessons. Her bottom would smart for days after from all my learning. I was presented by JoAnn and Sylvia. I had a big pink bow in my hair. I looked utterly precious. My long blonde locks were drawn back in a ponytail that bobbed when I walked. I wore long white stockings, the frail kind that get runs in them almost from being touched. They were white, and held aloft by frilly garter straps hooked to a garter belt. Pink little bows decorated the fasteners. I wore new white patent leather pumps. Long white gloves hugged my arms. They were tied off in little bows above my elbows, but remained fingerless upon my hands, letting my fingers stick through as if I wore no gloves at all. Otherwise, I was completely naked, save for my de riguer collar and cuffs. I bowed my head. Perhaps in my submissiveness they would spare me. My hands played over my bottom, apprehensive. I felt my cheeks tighten and relax. They felt much better now. My weal was subsiding. Soon it would be as if IÕd never been hit on my behind. And yet, and yet, they wanted more. More! I was just a schoolgirl. I felt a sudden yearning for home. It was safe, if sexless. I let my eyes lift up just a little. I looked at Louis to convince myself I must stay here. Ah! He had not shaved all day. The stubble on his face looked so manly. He was robust and tanned, wearing a suit and slacks. I saw, tucked into his coat like a manÕs handkerchief, my panties. HeÕd retreived them again and had put them away for safekeeping. Rose and I would not be frivolous with them anymore. I let my gaze pass to Andre. He was as well-built as Louis, a tad shorter, but with a cock that was wider, though not as long, like a sausage made to order by a girl who stared at too many fireplugs. I used to like watching male dogs pee against fire plugs. It was so bold, somehow, seeing a dog simply lift his leg and pee while all the female dogs had to squat. When youÕre eight, such things are interesting, I assure you. Polly was not present, but Cheyenne was. She sat between Louis and Andre. She regarded me with curious eyes, a little haughty (or was I just jealous?), as if saying, Ôyou must perform today, my dear, my time is not yet come for this.Õ Her breasts were bare. They hung ripely from her chest. Her every movement made them jiggle a little. She tossed her head to get her lovely brown hair back from her face. It fell in clouds round her head and down over her shoulders. It seemed to always be sneaking back into her eyes, making her toss her head again which, of course, made her breasts jiggle anew. She wore her glistening long jade-like penis earrings that IÕd first seen on her at the cabana. She had fingerless gloves like me and long stockings with a matching garter belt. But there the comparison ended, for she was permitted panties. IÕd asked for a new pair upstairs but been denied by JoAnn and Sylvia, though there were plenty lying in my dresser. I gazed at CheyenneÕs panties, with her cunny snug inside them, her bottom cupped by them. They were simple drawstring panties, tied at the sides with white bows, but for me they looked divine, for I had nothing at all to protect me. Cheyenne had a small white purse in her hands, as if she were sitting in church, waiting for the service to begin, or a wedding. Her lipstick was moist and red. Her shoes were patent leather, like mine. She had her slim ankles crossed demurely. But her thighs were sweetly parted. Simply by glancing down, Louis or Andre could amuse himself with the sight of her cunny offering itself softly within her panties. She had her hips shifted forward on the sofa a little, despite the erectness of her back, to display her little female pouch more distinctly. We were in the sunroom. There would be little privacy here for whatever they had planned for me. My punishment would be in the nature of a public entertainment. The sun was sinking toward the horizon but it was still plenty bright to illuminate my suffering. I wished it was night, pitch black, as it had been before, when Branson visited Polly and Brandi punished me. There was a raised dias in the center of the room. I glanced at it suspiciously. The furniture had been pushed aside to accomdate it. Twin poles, looking like mayfair poles, with white bunting winding up them, stood side by side on the dias. They were about six feet apart. Hanging down from the top of each pole was a slim silver chain. It looked too thin and delicate to hold anything. At the end was a clip. I looked down at my toes and saw that the clip would fit quite neatly into my ankle cuffs, or my wrist cuffs, if they were preferred. My head turned to Rose. She had something planned, I could tell, no matter how good I tried to appear. She was dressed in a very tight corset that was laced up her front and back, in the center, which meant it had taken at least a half hour to put it on, and needed the help of others to fit it, for it was just two unattached shells until it was all tied together. Despite the exactness and prolonged effort required to fit Rose into her corset, nothing had been done to cover her breasts. The corset forced them up a little, hefting them, making them more prominent than they usually were, which meant they looked now like two overfilled blimps quivering at their ports waiting for takeoff. Dangling over her breasts, held in her hand like my panties had been, was a small cat oÕ nine tails with knotted tips at the end. I gasped when I saw them. Rose let them swing about a little, taunting me with them. Moving closer to her, mesmerized, I saw that they were made of the softest silk, tied at the tips of silk cords. Yet, applied with sufficient force, they promised to make themselves felt most viciously, or so I imagined, for IÕd never felt such and didnÕt want to. ÒWhereÕs Polly?Ó I asked. ÒSheÕs been engaged in a game of hopscotch out on the front walk,Ó Rose said. ÒI do have some consideration for her age. SheÕs probably drawing up all the squares and numbers right now, wearing nothing at all, since she likes to swim that way, with the limo driver keeping watch over her.Ó ÒLurch?Ó I said. IÕd named him myself, in my imagination, and Rose simply nodded. No name seemed needed for him. One was as good as another. He simply guided, served, always on call, always ready for duty. ÒHe said he wanted to see how girls play hopscotch, at least thatÕs what I told him to tell her. Polly, sweet dear, was happy to oblige, and happier still when I gave her a set of colored chalk to draw on the sidewalk with. She had always used chalk rocks before, I guess, having to find them first before she could play.Ó ÒStep up on the dias,Ó Sylvia urged me. There would be no more conversation. All was in readiness. Polly could not be kept occupied forever. As if to hurry things along Sylvia pushed me up onto the first step of the dias. There were four more. Each was lined with felt, in case a barefoot girl might have to mount the dias, I supposed, to give her as much comfort as they could. Louis stood and walked over to me. He drew my twice discarded panties from his pocket. They were slightly damp, as if someone had washed them for me while I was taking my bath. ÒPolly washed them, at the sink, in the kitchen,Ó Louis said. ÒSheÕs the one who found them the second time. She was racing around the castle trying to see how fast she could run while Lurch? is that his name? timed her. I watched her while she washed them for you. She was quite jolly doing it, wearing long yellow gloves to protect her hands and arms but with nothing else on, of course. She delighted in seeing the small stains from your bowels on your panties. I must say, watching her crow over your stains and sing and wriggle her nude bottom about, I was pleasantly entertained. Another good mark in your column that will mitigate your punishment.Ó ÒThank you,Ó I said. He responded by parting my lips with his finger and stuffing my panties into my mouth. I resisted him at first. I stuck my tongue against his protruding finger. We battled, much as if our two tongues were jabbing at each other. His finger beat my tongue, of course. I was forced to retreat. I accepted my panties with as much equinimity as I could muster. They were mine, after all. I shouldnÕt have thrown them out the window. Sylvia brought a soft canvas gag to my mouth and fitted it between my teeth. To give the gag extra bulk, after it was tied behind my head she drew both ends of my panties out around my gag and tied them to the gag itself. This forced my tongue back very far, and I choked, shaking my breasts. She stroked my slim throat and I at last accepted my new condition. With a kind of sardonic glee Sylvia then offered me her hand and encouraged me to mount the remaining steps of the dias. I put my hands protectively to my hind cheeks and let her guide me up. She palmed my bare belly, her other hand pressed to the small of my back, while I concentrated on protecting my bottom. The top of the dias was sheathed with a covering of white fur. It was short, very soft. Sylvia guided me to the center of it, between the poles. There I saw, on the floor of the dias, a bolster taken from one of the couches. It was made of white vinyl, businesslike, but it had a silk cloth draped over it, as if to catch spillings. I was made to kneel. Sylvia kneed her way onto the platform, not using the steps. I hoped to just crouch in my new heels next to the bolster but she made me lie down with my bottom perched atop it. JoAnn joined her and stood over me. Sylvia drew my hands over my head and behind my neck and affixed them to the back of my dog collar. JoAnn, standing, lifted each of my long legs and fastened them to the end of the short chain that dangled down from the festive poles. I found myself spread-legged, my arms virtually immobile. My graceful, slim legs were in a wide vee, showing off my bare pussy as if I might be posing for Penthouse. My ass cheeks, partly unsupported by the narrow bolster, hung mostly free, jiggling in their nakedness and making me feel like I must be the Great Pumpkin, rising from the pumpkin patch for Linus to see. JoAnn and Sylvia got off the dias, using the steps. When they had departed Rose very sexily came up the little stairs, swaying her bottom, which was naked, letting me see her thatch from below, and her long legs which were sheathed in black fishnet stockings. Except for them, her corset, and matching gloves, plus a bondage collar tightly circling her neck, and earrings, she was naked. Of course she wore high heels, but nothing else, and she carried the small silk whip. ÒThis is a special treat few girls receive, and never from a man, for they donÕt know how to do it,Ó Rose told me. With jolly eyes she dangled the knotted tips of her whip right over my cunt! I was helpless, like a spread turkey waiting to be stuffed. I wondered if Cheyenne would loan me her panties but I couldnÕt ask, with the gag in my mouth. WHICKCK! I heard, and I felt myself lurch. My smooth belly rippled and my clamlike cunt smarted under the blow, my lips hungering to close, but wrenched wide with my legs all tied up straight and tall to the mayfair poles. My bare fanny bounced atop the bolster. WHICKCKCK! Again the silken whip rained down on my cunny. I felt the silken tips land smartly all round my spot. She would find it soon. WHICKCK! Oh! She hit me! Right on my tenderest, most vulnerable spot! I screamed into my gag but there was no mercy for me. She struck me again, and was lucky again. I squeezed my eyes shut and begged her to stop. For answer, she lifted her whip and stung my wobbling titties. Then, feeling perhaps a little pity for me, she summoned JoAnn and Sylvia. ÒCome and lick her parts between my whippings,Ó she told them. ÒIt will ease her pain a little. Nothing can be done to abate the strokes, but perhaps immediate treatment will help her bear them.Ó ÒYes, weÕll make them better,Ó JoAnn offered. Her voice was sincere. But I think Sylvia had more wicked intentions. She simply wanted to tongue me and make me feel her lust. She truly enjoyed seeing me suffer. JoAnn, I think, would have stopped it at once if sheÕd been in charge. Rose halted a moment and let JoAnn and Sylvia, clad in their Ôoffering dresses,Õ as I thought of them, offering their bottoms and tits and cunnies to all who cared to see, knelt down beside me. Greedily Sylvia took possession of my wounded cunny with her mouth. JoAnn tended to my nipples. I felt my breasts roll around beneath the probing of JoAnnÕs tongue. Sylvia intruded her tongue penis-like into my slit. ÒOh, how delicate these stockings are,Ó Rose said to me, stroking my thighs. ÒYou shouldnÕt have worn these, dear. IÕll have to be extra careful not to hit them with my whip. IÕd hate to put runs in them.Ó ÒRuin them,Ó a male voice declared. Louis. My captor. ÒIÕm enjoying this. DonÕt spare her.Ó I managed to tip my head slightly to one side. There, on the couch, sat my lover, with Cheyenne sitting primly beside him. She was still clad in her panties, but LouisÕ cock reared up through his pants fly. AndreÕs was similarly displayed. Cheyenne was playing her mittened fingers underneath their cocks, very lightly, as if preparing them for something herself. ÒOh, how I would love to trade Fleurry for one of you!Ó Rose declared, seeing Cheyenne entertaining the twin cocks. Suddenly, in my mind, I saw Louis tied in my place, with his cock stemming high, waving like a third pole, but without the bunting, and the little silken whip raining down on his balls and his glans. I felt a rush of excitement between my legs. ÒIÕve struck oil!Ó Sylvia announced for all the world to hear. My essence was secreting itself. I heard a laugh and turned my head and blushed as I saw people outside, looking in, some nicely dressed, others just in swimsuits. They stared at my gagged face. But they looked more intensely at my breasts, or especially between my legs, where a lifting of SylviaÕs head to catch her breath allowed the guests outside to see my slit. Wide open, yeilding, quite wet now. Rose eased SylviaÕs head aside and brought her whip down once more. I howled. My breasts shook. JoAnn lifted her face and let Rose strike my titties. Then my cunt again. Then my titties. After each blow my twin girlfriends immediately attempted to soothe me with their tongues. On and on it went. In the distance Cheyenne kept fingering Louis and AndreÕs cock, very discreetly. They undid her panties at last, slipping the drawstrings. They got up and urged her toward the dias. She cried out and dropped her purse. ÒYes, you must be next dear. You are too pretty to pass up,Ó Rose said. I was untied by JoAnn and Sylvia. I was shunted aside like a toy from some Christmas past and Cheyenne was fastened down in my place. They did not bother to change the silk cloth on the bolster. They stuffed her panties in her mouth, skipped the gag, and began beating her with the whip. I lay curled in a fetal position nearby. My cunny stung, my nipples stung, my bottom was still sore from last night. All my tenderest places, which should have been properly clothed, were nude and stinging. They made Cheyenne suffer just as I had. JoAnn and Sylvia tongued her to give her a little respite from the blows. Louis and Andre watched, standing over her, ignoring me, letting their pricks stand out like hard locks, but not touching them, for Rose insisted they must not. ÒNow for you, Andre,Ó Rose said when CheyenneÕs turn was over. Bawling, she was rolled over to me and Louis laughingly tied his friend down. JoAnn and Sylvia helped, as well as Rose. Andre was resistant. But he did not use all his strength to prevent his fate, and so at last Louis won, and to my heartbeating surprise I found myself staring at AndreÕs big sausage-like pecker, sticking straight up and showing its glory. Even Cheyenne stopped her sobbing to admire such a glorious sight. Rose licked her lips and began the torture. At once Andre shouted. It hurt far worse than he imagined. Rose eased up a little and played over him awhile. She stung his cock all up and down its length. Andre asked her to spare his nuts but she did not. Despite her wishes to see him be a father, she bounced the cruel tips all over his bulging sack with its precious twin testicles. Andre bellowed like a steer being neutered. The guests outside laughed. It was not their genitals on display, suffering under the cat. ÒCum, cum, cum,Ó JoAnn and Sylvia began chanting. Cheyenne joined them. Rose chimed in, timing each ÒcumÓ with another blow of her cat. I could not speak. I was still gagged. A recess was called. JoAnn and Sylvia were permitted to tongue and soothe our bold heroÕs loins. Andre whimpered like a dog. It was so pleasurable, feeling two young females attend to his stiff groin, and yet the whip was such agony, its sting lasting even as JoAnn and Sylvia did their best to make him feel only pleasure. ÒWhat? The girls didnÕt make you cum? After all that work?Ó Rose scolded Andre when JoAnn and Sylvia stopped to catch their breaths. They had really given him their all, hoping to make him cum so Rose would release him. Andre seemed confused. To cum was often a crime here, spoiling our pleasure. Yet now it seemed to be required. But for Andre, cumming was now a more distant option, for instead of letting the girls please him again Rose beat him instead. WHICKCK! WHICKCK! came the silken, knotted cords down on poor AndreÕs shaft and balls. I was feeling quite sorry for him now, knowing how much RoseÕs torture had hurt me. Still gagged, but with my hands free, I suddenly leapt up and crawled to Andre and grabbed his cock with both my hands. ÒNo! No more!Ó I cried. My words were mangled but there was no mistaking my desire. My breasts wiggled freely beneath me. My bottom stuck out in back, impudently, and I had no doubt Louis felt like kicking me in the ass with his sharp pointed shoes. AndreÕs pants, removed and discarded, lay dangling off the edge of the dias. He was helpless. Only I cared enough to save him. I put my cheek to his penis and, despite the gag, I rubbed my cheek up and down his meaty pole. Rose relented. She let me have Andre all to myself. JoAnn bent down and untied my gag for me. I spit it out as soon as I could. Awful thing. It had my saliva on it and would have had my blood on it too if IÕd been allowed to bite as IÕd wished to. Hungrily I stuffed AndreÕs poor organ into my mouth. I did not care about anything except getting as much of his injured tool safely into my mouth as I could. I rammed him down my throat. I gagged on his penis but I did not try to stop myself. Louis gazed down at me. Sylvia watched with amusement. Rose let her cat dangle, unsure how to proceed, or whether to proceed at all. I felt like a little rabbit, hunched down, my eyes attentive, my mouth gorged on AndreÕs manhood. For at least a minute all remained like this, the crowd watching, Cheyenne watching, Louis watching. And then, deep in my throat, I felt a sudden spurting. Andre shouted like a boy having his first spurt. His mouth gasped. The crowd outside erupted into laughter and then, after a moment, applause. I let Andre jet deep into my throat. I worked as best as I could to swallow all he gave me. It was too much, though, and it came oozing and then rushing out of my widespread lips, running down the length of his sausage that I hadnÕt been able to fit into me. After an especially long ejaculation, my palms palming his balls and feeling their swelling ease, Andre sighed. I felt his huge worm lose some of its hardness within my mouth and throat. Down he slipped, retracting on his own. At last I spat out his cockhead, regretfully. I gazed at its saliva slicked surface, a sheen of his own sperm mingled with my eager spit. I kissed his softened cockhead and stood. I grimaced as, in standing, I felt the torture anew upon my cunt, where Rose had beaten me. I stumbled backward and Louis caught me. Cheyenne crawled to me and placed her mouth upon my bush. I stood hanging in LouisÕs arms, my legs akimbo, my cunny pulsing. Oblivious to her own pain, Cheyenne began tounging me. Then, lightly, carefully, she put a hand to her own slit as she licked mine. It was no use, I saw. She could not touch herself with her fingertips. It was too painful. But a tongue would be just right. She desisted, taking her fingers away from herself, but nobody came to her aid. JoAnn had gone down on Sylvia, the two of them entertaining each other, while Rose found herself consoling Andre and, eventually, lying with him on the dias and kissing him again and again, running her hands over his chest, toying with his cat-kissed member. Cheyenne remained kneeling disciple-like before me. She tongued me until my chest heaved and my bosoms bounced, my breath coming in quick gasps and then fretful moans and finally blurting out orgasmic screams. As soon as IÕd had my turn, I let Louis drop me and I licked Cheyenne between her own legs. She trembled under my tongings. Louis watched with fascination. He began stroking himself. He warned us he would spurt all over our lovely hair but we didnÕt care. Cheyenne gazed up at him, her breasts bare, her nipples hard and her eyes soft. Her mouth mouthed out gasps of increasing pleasure. At last, under my helpful tongue, she cried out in alarm and felt herself go over the edge. As soon as she did, Louis hosed us both down with his sperm. ÒLouis!Ó I cried, my mouth buried in CheyenneÕs cunt. I didnÕt really think he would do it, perhaps, but he did, and I knew IÕd have to spend an hour in the tub now getting all his stickiness out. He spurted over me, then, showing enormous restraint, he waggled over to CheyenneÕs face and gave her the rest of himself, squirting her right on her nose and then decorating her lovely brown hair as if it were a chocolate cake in search of vanilla icing. ÒOh, Louis!Ó Cheyenne breathed, but she was otherwise to pleasurably entertained by my mouth to protest. I finished her, then lifted my face and kissed LouisÕs leg. He smiled at me. There were drippings left, and he turned and offered to sprinkle them over me. I let him. It was too late now. I was doomed to the bath anyhow. After all of us were spent we went our separate ways. Louis and Cheyenne, and I, however, agreed to take our bath together. As the sun set outside, we all spent the next hour in my bathtub in my room. We soaped each otherÕs privates, Louis doing Cheyenne and I very tenderly, so as not to hurt us. Then Cheyenne and I did him. We washed our hair, too, Cheyenne and I, and it took awhile to get LouisÕs very virile sperm out of our hair, but Louis helped a little, massaging our scalps and kissing our eyelids. Afterwards, standing outside the tub and patting each other down with a towel, Cheyenne made a suggestion. ÒLetÕs go downstairs and get a bite to eat and then come back up and start all over again, in bed,Ó she said. Her eyes glowed. Despite my whipping I felt renewed somehow within my cunny lips and along the tips of my tits. My bottom felt better, my weal sinking back down flush with my skin. I looked at her. She looked at me. Louis gazed at us with a maleÕs possessiveness and we both giggled as we watched his cock begin to rise. ÒJust tongues this time, no whip,Ó I said to Cheyenne. ÒYes, please,Ó she answered. ÒOkay,Ó I agreed. We leaned into each other, our hands at our sides, and let our tongues touch, opening our mouths to let them out. Louis caressed our bottoms. ÒCome on! IÕm hungry!Ó Cheyenne said suddenly, breaking our kiss. We couldnÕt continue or weÕd wind up going all night on empty stomachs. She turned and took my hand and we walked together to the bathroom door. Cheyenne beckoned for Louis who was beside us like a hound in heat, and she took his hand also. Together we marched downstairs, quite naked. Nobody minded seeing us muching in the kitchen. Our bodies were lithe and tanned. Our boobies were cute and full and white, a nice contrast to our limbs and tummies, and our bottoms matched our boobs, with even my marks from my whipping by Bambi almost gone. CheyenneÕs bottom had yet to feel the lash. Louis, of course, was a real attention getter, with his giant organ sticking straight up by now, an open invitation to any female within 200 miles. We found ourselves joined by curious specatators in the kitchen, and the recipients of many offers, but we declined them all. When we were done eating we retreated upstairs, where some kind soul had changed my bedsheets yet again. But we knew theyÕd soon require changing yet again, for as soon as we hit the sheets Louis was already dripping pre-cum on them. Cheyenne and I quickly set about getting each other moist also. We spent the night tearing the bed apart, moaning and crying aloud and loving each other til dawn. No whips, no punishments, just the sensuous torture of delicate tongues and probing fingers and, amidst it all, LouisÕs powerful cock. ÒItÕs morning, time to go to sleep,Ó Cheyenne said to me at last. She giggled and took my face in her hands and kissed me. ÒYeth,Ó I answered. LouisÕs groin was against my bottom but he was utterly spent now. There was a wet spot under my hip. My cunny and bottomhole ached with his comings and goings. Cheyenne was as ravaged as me. I felt down between her legs for her slit and she winced as I touched it. ÒOh, please donÕt,Ó she begged. ÒIÕm worn out too,Ó I admitted. And, speaking in hushed tones like that to each other in the fresh light of dawn, we fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Free Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller666@aol.com -My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 -Back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -or send e-mail to: file.archives@backdrop.com -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -NEW small Usenet newsgroup: uw.alt.sex.stories -END OF ftp EMISSION