Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in LOVE LESSONS Chapter One Mom always told me to stay away from older men. Naturally, I didnÕt listen. I was 16 when I met him. He was gorgeous. We made love like wild things in the jungle. (When mom wasnÕt home, naturally.) And so it was, on the day before New YearÕs, that I found myself chatting with a woman about a New YearÕs Eve party I planned to attend. ÒAre you showing?Ó she asked. We were both young, she 19, me just 16. We were going to different parties, comparing notes. ÒWell, just a little,Ó I replied. I told her my dress would be longer in front than in back. And the top would be cut so I might ÒloseÓ it without being completely undressed. ÒOhhh, thatÕs even racier than IÕve planned,Ó she said admiringly. And she told me about her New YearÕs Eve dress. ÒItÕs sort of like a string bikini, but with lots of extra ties to make it into a dress.Ó We shared wicked smiles. We were young and naughty. We parted with a hug and I found myself briefly clinging to her, for comfort. I hadnÕt actually been to a sexy New YearÕs Eve party before and I had a feeling I was getting myself into more than IÕd bargained for. If she noticed my fear she let a simple pat on my back be my sole consolation. I was in uncharted water. Mom was away for a week, in Aspen. SheÕd met a new boyfriend and suddenly her fears about my virginity gave way to her own need for love. IÕd been pushing against her, telling her to give me more freedom. So she did. My boyfriend picked me up after school. His name was Ted. He was 24, an investment banker, and he drove a way cool Plymouth Prowler. It was colored purple and it looked a little bit like a big purple penis as it nosed through New YorkÕs late afternoon traffic. He took me to his apartment. I thought we might have a fling on his bed before the party but, when he took me into his bedroom, there was a stunning pink party dress laid out for me on his bed. ÒOh, Ted, itÕs beautiful!Ó I gushed. I darted over to inspect my first New YearÕs Eve party dress (my first ÔadultÕ one, anyway). As I lingered over itÕs satin bows and its soft, almost sheer folds a Mexican woman stepped into the bedroom behind us. ÒJuanita will see to your bath and your hair and will help you dress,Ó Ted told me. ÒSheÕs a licensed cosmetologist, so listen to her advice.Ó ÒYes, Ted,Ó I answered. I batted my eyes submissively. He stepped out of the room and Juanita closed the door. ÒTake everything off,Ó she instructed me. She was short and plump and her dark hair was bundled up to keep it out of her eyes. She wore a starched white blouse and an efficient knee-length skirt. Her legs were swaddled in stockings, perhaps due to poor circulation. Under her watchful gaze, feeling nervous, I peeled off my plaid schoolgirlÕs skirt and my collared white blouse and I even was made to take the barrettes out of my hair. She insisted on scrubbing me in the bath. When I was all sparkling clean and sheÕd dried me she did up my hair, lingering over it, telling me how pretty it was. I had blonde hair, like delicate finespun gold. My eyes were blue and she gave them just a touch of eye shadow, to make my gaze even more vivid. Then she put my gown on. It was sexy beyond belief. There were no sleeves on the gown. There was, indeed, no top. The gown stretched from my toes all the way up to my bosoms, and then just stopped, right underneath them. I looked at myself bare-bosomed in the mirror. The gown was delicate, sequined, every little girlÕs dream of Barbie on New YearÕs Eve. It simply had no top, thatÕs all. Juanita tied up the two spaghetti-like drawstrings that met behind my neck to keep the gown from falling off me. I felt the simple bow hugging the back of my neck when she was done. ÒThis wonÕt come untied, will it?Ó I asked worriedly. ÒShould you be concerned?Ó she asked. There was a touch of wry disdain in her voice. Was she jealous? My young breasts stuck up from my chest like twin cantaloups, already bare, ready for suckling. She passed a fingertip over them and my nipples became erect. I reached up and re-tied the bow behind my neck myself. I intended to double-knot it but, as I stared at the dress, I was afraid I might hurt the strings if I forced them into a double-knot. (A silly thought, I know, but thatÕs how you feel when youÕre 16 and going to your first New YearÕs Eve party!) When IÕd made sure the strings behind my neck were properly tied I turned about and looked at my backside. My dress was lusciously long in front but the seamstress whoÕd made it must have run out of material. In back, there was simply no dress at all. The hem rose from my toes in front all the way up to my waist in back. My dress wasnÕt just slitted in back, it was completely open. My legs, completely bare, could be seen, as well as the full round cheeks of my bottom. It was almost frightening to see my bare bottom sticking out so lewdly from such a gorgeous dress. It was white and creamy and high-perched, with my dress hanging uselessly above it, covering only my back. I reached behind myself and tugged at the hem of my dress, futilely. It covered me only down to my waist and left everything below quite enticingly naked. Juanita seemed to feel a touch of sympathy for me. No doubt with TedÕs permission, though she acted grandly, as if doing me a personal favor, she drew a small pair of panties out of a drawer. They were white, in contrast to the pink of my gown. ÒHere, put these on,Ó she said to me. Gratefully I took the panties from her. They were so fine and small and delicate that I had trouble figuring out which was the front and which was the back. Finally I got it straight and she helped lift my dress as I stepped into the panties and pulled them up. When I looked at myself in the mirror again my bottom was half-covered by the white undies. They looked ridiculous, I thought, being all white and not matching the pink of my gown, and they only covered half my butt. But they beat having a completely bare bottom, I had to admit. I gazed at the crack of my plump fanny where it rose uncovered from the panties. I touched a finger to my crack and then hooked my finger in the ÔwaistbandÕ of the panties and tugged them up. They didnÕt budge. They were as high as they could go. There was a crease in them where they dipped into the part of my buttcrack that they did manage to cover. I smoothed the panties as best I could, trying to get rid of the crease. But as soon as I took a step the little panties dipped into my crack again. ÒDonÕt trouble yourself too much about them. I canÕt think youÕll keep them on for long,Ó Juanita said with a wry, self-satisfied grin. She was meek and humble but she had a way, in her meekness, of letting me know that she, at least, would spend a dignified New YearÕs, not sashaying around some expensive party in a gown that showed off her bottom. The last item of clothing that I was permitted was a small bikini top. Jaunita tied it on me. It tied around behind my neck and also behind my back, like an ordinary bikini top, but it (thankfully) matched the pink of my gown. To the unobservant eye one might think my gown was complete, once the top was tied on. But a quick loosing of its twin drawstrings would reduce me again to my topless state. ÒYou are lovely,Ó Juanita admitted, checking my lipstick once sheÕd got me fitted into the top. ÒHave fun at your party. And donÕt turn into a pumpkin.Ó Dressed in my new gown, Juanita led me out of the bedroom to Ted. He smiled at me and gave me a small gift. I opened it, as he stood admiring me. I expected a ring or a bracelet. Instead, it turned out to be a small, delicate gold chain. At one end was a little clip. ÒWhat is this?Ó I asked. It was lovely but I had no idea what to do with it. ÒItÕs a clit clip,Ó Ted said nonchalantly. I looked up at him gawk-eyed, a 16-year-old schoolgirl with puffy, childish cheeks confronting her womanhood. ÒYou clip it onto your labia,Ó Juanita interjected. Her English was broken, laced with a thick Spanish accent, but I understood her all too clearly. ÒIÕm not clipping anything to my labia!Ó I protested. Ted bent and hoisted the front of my gown. He lifted it up until my belly showed. Gently he lowered my panties. As I watched, my breath moving my bosoms, my belly taut and frightened, Ted nudged my legs open and placed the clip over one of my labial folds and let go. ÒYeeeech!Ó I gasped. My voice was high, squeaky. I was just a schoolgirl but, suddenly, I was a schoolgirl with a clit clip! ÒThere. It matches your pubic hair perfectly,Ó Ted said. He ran the length of gold chain across his fingers. Then he coiled the thin little chain and deposited it inside my panties and pulled them up. As Ted watched, Juanita helped me into the fur coat Ted had given me earlier in the year. It was a lovely mink fur. It had the dual benefit of keeping me warm and my bottom unseen. Ted took my arm. ÒShall we go?Ó he asked me. I stared meekly up at him. Not waiting for me to answer, he pulled open the door of his townhouse and led me out into the street. The wind had picked up. A flurry of snow hit us as soon as we stepped out onto the walk. Ted held me close and protected me, lifting his coat to shield me from the bitterness of the snow-laden breeze. Inside my coat I could feel my pantied bottom rubbing against the fur lining. It felt so soft, and yet, as he held me close, Ted whispered to me, ÒI shall want to whip you tonight.Ó I gasped. Had I heard him correctly? My thighs trembled. The clit clip bit more vigorously, I thought, into the labial fold where heÕd affixed it. Ted opened the door of his Prowler and slipped me inside. When he closed the door with a bang I felt comfortable, cared for, yet what had he said to me in the wind? Ted walked around the front of the car and I thought his gait looked a bit awkward. When he slipped in beside me (the top on the car was up, thankfully) he said not a word more. He stared ahead into the street. I wanted to ask what heÕd said to me, but, as I looked across at him, and he started the car, looking so noble and fine, I couldnÕt bring myself to. We drove downtown. Ted stopped in front of the Trump Plaza and a valet helped me out of TedÕs Prowler and took the car. Ted escorted me into the lobby. It was colored all in gold and a beautiful fountain gushed up from the center of the floor. We stopped to admire it. Tropical fishes swam languidly in the water. Silver dollars and pennies and newly-minted quarters and dimes were sprinkled across the floor of the fountain, like jewels. The fishes seemed oblivious to their wealth, taking it for granted. Ted bought me flowers in the lobby, a dozen roses. Then he took me to the elevator. ÒFloor 14,Ó Ted said to the bellhop in the elevator. He was a young boy, all smiles, and he pressed the button for the 14th floor. The lift ascended quickly. We exited with the bellhop staring after my bottom as it jiggled within my coat. Ted knocked at Suite 1401 and a woman answered. She smiled first at Ted, then at me. She seemed a little suprised at my youth. But if she had any questions, she refrained from raising them. Instead she gave Ted a peck on the lips, then turned to me and asked for my coat. As she turned, as we stepped inside, I saw she wore a dress identical to mine. Without a coat on her bottom was quite visible, and she wore panties that matched the color of her dress. She reached for my coat and slipped it from my shoulders. ÒAh, you are properly attired then, dear, very good,Ó she said in a smooth, softly confident voice. A hispanic maid appeared, outfitted in a typical maidÕs uniform. Our hostess handed the maid my coat and she disappeared with it. ÒMy panties donÕt match my dress,Ó I said ruefully, seeing our hostessÕs. ÒYou have white schoolgirl panties on,Ó our hostess smiled. ÒBe happy. They befit you. Over there, as you can see, some girls have to do without any panties at all!Ó My eyes darted to the party at large. A big room beckoned. I stepped toward it to get a better view of it. Metallic balloons, some grey, some pink, floated amidst tables packed with food. Partiers, the men in suits and the women all in gowns like I and the hostess wore, helped themselves to the food. They chatted and sipped drinks, all of them quite decorous and content, yet the females all showed their bottoms, some in panties and some utterly bare-assed. ÒLet me take your flowers for you. They are so lovely,Ó our hostess said to me. She eased the dozen roses from my fingers. ÒIÕll see that their stems are cut back a little and theyÕre put in water.Ó She gave them to the maid. I watched her take them away. Ted nudged me forward. He was eager to join the party. Ted and I drifted into the big party room. We were received with admiring glances. A woman, acting perhaps as the hostessÕ helper, gave me a glass of chablis. Ted kissed her. A man approached us and Ted introduced him as Rod. I smiled, blushing. Rod stepped behind me and admired my ass. Large glass windows provided a view of the city. We strolled to the nearest. IÕd taken a stalk of celery from one of the buffet tables. The woman, RodÕs wife, sipped chablis and nibbled on an olive. I dipped my celery stalk in a little paper bowl of cheddar cheese that Rod offered to me. I liked Rod. He was strong and handsome like Ted but dark, with a mean, swarthy look, yet he treated me very politely. ÒItÕs beautiful, isnÕt it?Ó Jennifer, TedÕs wife, asked me. We looked down on the city, its lights glowing and twinkling, the cars moving slowly through the streets, snow drifting down in big flakes and covering everything. ÒYes,Ó I agreed. She placed a hand on my waist, right where the hem of my dress gave way to the swell of my bottom. I giggled. She sighed and let out a little laugh. It sounded like bells tinkling at Christmas. I was introduced to everyone. Men smiled at me gallantly as I sifted within the crowd, gazing at my bottom as discreetly as possible, yet not hiding their interest in it. Women received me with soft kisses and blandishments. The drinks flowed freely. I tried not to drink too much, being still young and unaccostomed to it. I munched more celery and tried bits of pink salmon and smoked, thinly sliced sausage. The hour moved from 10 to 11. Our hostess came round and began removing the bikini halter tops of each of the female guests. She had a party hat on, small and pointy, with streamers billowing out the top of it, kept on her head by a chin strap under her chin. Gaily she snipped off each womanÕs halter top, using a scissors. The tops were not to be retrieved or replaced. Gradually the floor became littered with ruined bras as the hostess moved from one female to the next. ÒTime to show your breasts,Ó she smiled brightly to me when she reached me. As I watched, she cut away my top. It fell into my hands. Ted brushed my elbow and made me drop the top to the floor. The hostess stepped on it as she moved from me to Jennifer. I watched open-mouthed. I could not believe the shamelessness of it. Beside me Jennifer let out a little squeal as her big bosoms spilled into view. They trembled and her nipples stood up immediately. Ted reached up and cupped one of her breasts and palped it, like a doctor examining a patient. Jennifer blushed. I noticed I was blushing too. ÒYou have lovely breasts,Ó Rod said to me. ÒThank you,Ó I replied. ÒYouÕre the first person beside Ted to see them.Ó ÒHow nice,Ó he answered. He reached up and palmed them. They were heavy but because I was so young they stuck right up in his hands, my nipples excitedly capping them, extruding themselves from the tips of my breasts and demanding attention. Rod lightly pinched one of my nipples. I let out a gasp between nervously gritted teeth. ÒThere will be dancing in a few minutes. Will you give me the first?Ó Rod asked. ÒYesssss,Ó I answered. I didnÕt want him to pinch my nipples again. Our hostess passed through the crowd again. This time she bore a can of whipped cream. As everyone patiently waited, the females no doubt as nervous as I, she sprayed whipped cream onto all of our nipples. ÒYour turn, dear,Ó our hostess smiled at me when she reached me. And then, just like for the others, she spritzed out the cream. It was ice cold and it made me squeal a little as it hit my warm nipples. ÒAnd now you, Jennifer,Ó our hostess said, turning to her next. Jennifer managed to suppress a cry as she was creamed. ÒNow, gentlemen,Ó our hostess announced, ringing a little bell when sheÕd finished applying the cream. ÒYour job is to lick off the cream. But none to his own wife or girlfriend, for that would indeed be a waste of opportunities. Lick the cream from some other female, and one male each, please, no hogging.Ó I gasped as Rod rudely seized my bosoms and bent his head down and sucked them. Suddenly they were no longer on display, but things to be mauled and sucked and eaten. With unabashed relish Rod gripped and squeezed my poor breasts and savagely licked off the cream. All his politeness was gone. I almost screamed, he was so direct in his lust, so unflinching. Yet I managed to bite my lip, taking a cue from Jennifer, and suffered in silence. Turning my head, I watched as my own Ted sucked quite greedily upon hers. At last, when all the cream that had covered our nipples was long gone, the men felt satisfied and came up for air. Rod licked his lips and made a pretence of straightening my dress. He hooked his fingers into the material under my breasts and smoothed it. I gazed at him. I wanted to be angry at him but I fear my eyes instead had a dazed, loving look in them. I found myself licking my own lips. Briefly Rod kissed me. I could smell his aftershave, Brut, as he put his lips to my own. ÒAnd now for the nipple clamps,Ó our hostess announced. I nearly fainted. Rod stroked my bare arm and held me close. Slowly the hostess began moving through the crowd again, this time attaching small gold clamps to the (quite erect) nipples of each female. Some pretended to be unaffected, casually trying to sip a drink as the clamps were applied. Others frankly let out a shriek. ÒSuch new, lovely young breasts,Ó our hostess complimented me when she reached me. As Rod held me tight, his arms encircling me, I was forced to present my bare bosoms. The hostess nipped one of my nipples. I shouted as I felt the clamp bite down on it. ÒNow for the other one,Ó she said. She lifted a second clamp, connected to the first by a shimmering golden chain, and affixed it to my other teat. I gave a higher-pitched cry. ÒOhhhh, it hurts!Ó I complained. Rod stroked my shoulders, so frail and small in his big hands. He lofted up each of my breasts in turn, feeling their plumpness, admiring the jeweled gold clamps that held my nipples so tightly. My eager nipples were contained, constrained, within metal holders. I shivered. Rod led me out on the dance floor and music began to play. A curtain lifted and I saw a white-suited ensemble, a quartet. They gazed at their music and pretended to take no notice of the state of my bosoms. Other guests followed us out onto the floor. In a whirl of skirts and jacket tails we began to dance. Out beyond the big picture windows the clouds parted. A late moon began to rise. At midnight the music stopped and we gathered round the hostess. Bare-bosomed as the rest of us females, with clamps stuck on her nipples, she raised a little alarm clock. ÒAt twelve, all the females are to have their panties removed, if theyÕre wearing them. Toss them into the air so we can see them! And men, when youÕre done with that duty, but not before, please unzip yourselves, and show us your strength. Then you are free to do as you please. The night is yours. Enjoy the rest of the food, drink yourself silly, dance your hearts away, as you like. There are two bedrooms in back for the very eager. They are not big enough to accomodate more than a few of you, though, so I trust the rest of you will find some other way to pass the time. Leave when you like, no later than 9 tomorrow, to give the maid time to clean up a little before I return the room.Ó The clock struck 12 just as she finished. The hostessÕs alarm went off as, against the wall, a big grandfather clock began striking out the hour in deep sonorous chimes. A cheer went up. Confetti spewed from the ceiling. The ensemble struck up ÒAld Lang Sine.Ó I felt hands on my bottom and, giving a shriek, turned to see Rod hustling down my panties. My clit chain unfurled. It tugged at my labia, making its weight felt. I was scared to death that in his haste to remove my panties Rod would yank on my chain and somehow tear my cuntlips. I breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to get my tight little undies down to my ankles. I felt male, with the leash-like chain dangling between my legs. Yet I was utterly female, with a tight little cunt and a full, womanly bottom. I felt the cool air of the room wash over the underside of my bottomcheeks. Then, a moment later, I felt RodÕs hot breath, blowing against my fanny as he made me lift my feet so he could get my panties off. As demurely as I could I lifted my feet for him. In his haste he almost made me trip on my own undies. I emitted a cry of alarm, barely caught my balance. At that moment I donÕt think he would have cared if IÕd fallen. Ridding me of my underpants was all he could think of. Jennifer let out a cry and I saw her panties, pink to match the color of her dress, go flying into the air. My own quickly followed. I watched with dismay as Rod tossed my dove-like panties high up into the air. He wickedly lofted them in an arc so theyÕd fall too far from where we were standing for me to retrieve them. Yellow panties, matched to the gown of another woman, fell from the sky and hit Jennifer in the face. She squealed. She blew at them with her mouth, where they draped down from her nose. Then she shook her head a little and they fell off her, dropping to the floor. She placed a heel over them and ground them into the dancefloor, laughing. We walked out onto the balcony. There was a rush to our walk, the men hurrying me, and Jennifer. Rod still had possession of me and Ted still had Jennifer, but they switched us at the last moment, and I fell into my own TedÕs arms and kissed him passionately. His hands grabbed my fanny and squeezed it. His fingers were like steel grips pressing into it. I was soft. I was open. He spread my cheeks and let my bottomhole feel the cold night air upon it. Suddenly I was spun around. Ted bent me forward over the railing of the porch. It was cold outside, apart from his arms. Ted pushed me into a deeper bow. My clamped nipples offered their shimmering chain to the passing cars far below. The city loomed under me, beckoning. As I gasped in my bent over position, scared of being toppled over the railing, I felt a sudden stab between my legs. ÒTed! Nooo!Ó I cried. He shoved himself into me, rudely, not asking permission or anything. There were no words of entreaty, just a rough, hard entry, splitting me up between my legs, making me take him. Beside me, Jennifer was bent over the railing. ÒOh, God!Ó she gasped. RodÕs hips lurched forward and he rammed himself up into her. With lusty abandon the two men fucked us. Ted moved within me like a Jaguar, fast and lean and full of spirit. My clit chain waggled helplessly under me. Its weight pulled on me, teasing me, annoying me. Beside me Jennifer received Rod. He was as ruthless as my boyfriend, perhaps more so. Jennifer and I gasped at the moon and the street below and the buildings across from us. Were they watching? Could they see us? I did not know, did not care a moment later as I felt a rush of desire well up within me. Snow sprinkled onto my lovely chignon. The flakes bit at my cheeks and stung the snowy hanging gourds of my breasts. Behind me Ted made me buck to his thrusts. I gasped and keened and protested again, but there was no stopping the fucking. I felt like a pet, captured and loved. A captive bird. Caught by a bird of prey. ÒI cannot train you properly. I love you too much,Ó Ted said to me at the partyÕs conclusion. And with that, Jennifer gazing at me anxiously, me even more fearful, Ted exchanged me. I went to Rod, she went to Ted. The men promised us that each of us would be trained by him, each by the man who loved her less. He could be more dutiful with the whip. It was a totally new development. It had arisen unexpectedly in the wee hours of the morning, at least from my point of view, as we dallied again over the food, drinking more, dancing a little. But I think the men had planned it all along. And so, at 3 oÕclock, in the dead of night, Ted kissed me goodbye and handed me over to Rod, and Rod gave Ted his wife. They were newlyweds. They had been together only two months. He promised her she would be more faithful to him after a week of training. ÒBut IÕve been utterly faithful to you!Ó Jennifer said to him. I could not tell if she was going along with the swap or complaining. Perhaps we were both too excited to really complain, our nipples stiff and freed of the clamps, the men hard and erect again. ÒThen you can show your faithfulness to me by fucking whomever I tell you to,Ó Rod replied. ÒMake her submissive, Ted. I want no backtalk from her when you return her to me a week from now.Ó ÒOf course,Ó Ted nodded. ÒAnd do the same for me, would you? Beth is still wilful at 16, a spoilt little schoolgirl sometimes, if you know what I mean.Ó Rod hugged me. ÒYouÕll have no trouble from her, a week from now, I assure you.Ó He pinched my bottom. I shouted. None of the other guests heard, or cared. Moans emanated from one of the bedrooms. The quartet played lazily. The violinist was a little too friendly with the maid who gave them drinks. I rode with Rod in his Lamborghini to his apartment. It was conveniently close to Trump Plaza. Perhaps heÕd been to other parties there, and driven other girls to his place afterwards, I mused. Perhaps it was a regular thing of his. I looked across at him but he was scowling at the late night traffic so I looked quickly away. It was drizzling when we parked. He helped me out of his car and sheltered me under his coat. We mounted a flight of steps to an entryway and were within, then took another flight of stairs up to the second floor. Our breaths were puffing by the time he got me upstairs and into his apartment. It was a small but well decorated flat, tastefully male, with a touch of the female, no doubt provided by his newlywed wife. ÒDo you have anyplace I could put my roses?Ó I asked Rod. IÕd fetched my roses back again on leaving the party. ÒNo,Ó he said. He took them from me. He laid them on a table. ÒUndress.Ó He stepped back from me and began undoing his suit. Seeing me hesitate, he added, ÒDonÕt make me rip it off you.Ó With butterflies in my tummy I removed my dress. I hadnÕt dressed myself and so I first had to orient myself. Reaching back, I found the zipper to the gown high up, behind my neck. ÒI canÕt get it,Ó I complained to Rod. He snarled, and for a moment he would simply grab my dress and tear it. Instead, perhaps softening under my 16-year-old schoolgirl eyes, gazing at him balefully, he turned me around and got hold of the zipper. Quickly he zipped it down, baring my back. A moment later the gown fell away from me and I caught it with my hands. ÒNow, letÕs go to the bedroom,Ó Rod said. He guided me forward, still wearing his pants, but with his zipper open again (after heÕd zipped it up, upon leaving the party). With his thing bobbing beside my thigh he guided me quickly into his master bedroom. A dollop of pre-cum deposited itself on my thigh and I brushed my hand down to get it off me. As I did my fingers met the big head of his penis and, sheepishly, instinctively, they darted away from it. Rod laughed. He shoved me into his bedroom. A big canopied bed awaited us. I stood stock still, admiring it. IÕd always dreamed of making love in a canopy bed since I was a little girl. Behind me Rod got off his pants. ÒKneel down on the floor,Ó he said. ÒWhat?Ó I asked. ÒDown on the floor!Ó he barked. Reluctantly, wanting to be in the bed and not on the floor, I knelt down on a soft fuzzy throwrug that laid on the bare wooden floor. I heard RodÕs belt being drawn from his pants. ÒFace on the floor, down on the rug, bottom high,Ó he ordered. His voice was absolutely no-nonsense. ÒRodddd,Ó I whined. A sharp crack of the belt somewhere in the air behind me made me quickly obey. I pressed my childish right cheek into the rug. I checked the pool of spittle that instantly began forming in the hollow of my cheek by swallowing. ÒUp with your bottom more,Ó Rod commanded. I felt myself lift my heinie. The air in the room was cool and as I spread my thighs, showing all of myself to him, I felt an involuntary shiver. Dangling down from between my legs the clit chain still taunted me. As I moved it wiggled, pulling at my labia, reminding me of my female sex even as it vaguely hinted at the male. ÒNow, keep your hands down on the rug,Ó Rod said to me. I pressed my palms flat against the rug opposite my face. ÒWhat are you going to do?Ó I asked. My voice sounded silly and childish coming out of my floor-pressed cheeks. ÒYouÕll see,Ó Rod answered. ÒOr, rather, feel...Ó There was a sharp crack of leather and I felt a sudden searing of heat across my bottom. I screamed and bounced forward on the rug. My palms flew up behind me and clutched at my wounded heinie. ÒOw, that hurt!Ó I gasped when IÕd recovered myself. I rubbed my bottom ruefully. ÒIÕm going to have to cuff you to keep your hands out the way, I see,Ó Rod sighed. ÒExtra strokes for that, I assure you.Ó ÒRod, donÕt!Ó I protested, but he didnÕt hear. HeÕd locked the bedroom door upon our entering and there was noplace for me to run. I was just a slender 16-year-old girl. He was a grown man. Rod took a leather collar out of a dresser drawer along with two wrist straps. A pair of his wifeÕs panties fell from the drawer as he hastily took out the cuffs and straps. I wondered at that. They kept her panties and dog collars and straps for her in the same drawer? Did she wear them everyday, as often as her underwear? Kneeling down in front of me, Rod made me kneel up and face him. He was utterly, gloriously nude, and despite the stinging in my bottom I couldnÕt help admiring his broad shoulders and hairy chest. He saw the admiration in my eyes and took advantage of it to quickly fit my throat into a collar. ÒMmm, Rod, itÕs tight,Ó I complained. He paused and loosened my collar a notch. When I was properly collared and he let go of me I looked down at his penis. It was huge and throbbing, every high school girlÕs fantasy and every little girlÕs nightmare. I fondled the big purplish head of his dick with my little fingers. My nails were polished, sharp. Yet he was in command, I was submissive. ÒOh Rod, just put me in your bed and DO me,Ó I begged. ÒThat would be too good for you,Ó he answered. ÒThat is my wifeÕs bed. You are just a slave. Although a very pretty one,Ó he admitted. Quickly he lifted each of my wrists and fitted them with leather wrist straps. Then, lifting my hands, he snapped them securely into rings hanging down off the sides of my collar. I found myself staring at him, at his big chest and penis, with my hands cuffed to my neck. He admired me for a moment, toyed with the nipples of my breasts. Then he kissed my nose and bent me slowly and carefully over so that, kneeling I was face-flat on the floor again, with my bottom high in the air. ÒNow IÕll give you the training you need, without your hands getting in the way,Ó he said to me. He patted my head solicitously but I felt no better for it. Then he rose up, like Samson rising with his final strength to bring down DagonÕs temple. His pillar-like penis rose up with him, sticking out from his groin, promising much but delivering nothing. Rod walked behind me and picked up his belt again. ÒDonÕt scream, or IÕll have to gag you,Ó he warned. But the first stroke, falling hard and fast and wickedly across my soft bottom, made me cry out like a cat sprung from Hell. ÒYou are totally undisciplined,Ó Rod growled. As I knelt whimpering, wanting to rub my bottom but unable to, he got down beside me again and fitted me with a gag. His penis made love to my hair, sticking itself in my chignon, but it was uncaring love, made accidentally due to the very long length of his organ. He rose up again, taking himself away from me. Gagged, cuffed, collared, I received the belt again. It burned as it slashed across my girlish heinie, and I screamed at each blow. Finally I could take no more and I threw myself belly-flat on the throw rug. ÒDamn!Ó Rod swore. He watched as I writhed on the rug, trying to throw off the pain from my bottom, at the same time enjoying the fuzz that stuck up between my hot thighs. He grabbed my clit chain and yanked it hard. I screamed louder, only my gag keeping the neighbors from hearing. I pressed my thighs together to try to keep him from pulling the chain, but he pulled it again, having lifted it up so that it stuck out the back of my thighs, right where they met my bottom. He tortured me with the chain. My labia felt sore. He yanked and yanked on it, not as hard as the first time, but firmly and surely and awfully, reminding me each time of my place. Lying flat on my belly, with a gag stuffed in my mouth, my wrists bound uselessly to my face, I could only grind my body against the soft carpet and wish all the world were as soft and fuzzy and friendly as it. My bottom burned in the cool air of the room. I heard a key in the door of the bedroom. I glanced up. I was shocked, fearful. Rod turned, equally surprised, I think, for we were both quite naked and compromised, me gagged and him visibly erect and aroused, no doubt close to coming. The door opened. I saw black stiletto heels and lifted my eyes to see a dark-gowned woman enter the room. ÒElsa!Ó Rod groaned. ÒWhy Rod, did you forget about me?Ó she asked. She had jet black hair and eyes like a witch. She put her slim white hands on her narrow hips. ÒItÕs been a year, I know, but I thought you might like a visit from me on the anniversary of your kicking me out!Ó ÒI didnÕt...Ó Rod gasped. ÒI know, you didnÕt manage to take back my keys to your apartment.Ó She smiled at him. ÒAnd being a man, of course, and me a woman, you never bothered to change the locks, did you? WhoÕs this? The pretty new wife you told me about? A bit young, isnÕt she? Did you marry her as soon as she graduated from elementary school?Ó ÒSheÕs 16,Ó Rod said, recovering himself a little, but still wide-eyed, though not as wide-eyed as me! Elsa reached out and clasped RodÕs stiff penis with her bare hand. It was soft and white, and I think it felt creamy against his skin, like the over-creamed hands of an aunt or a grandmother sometimes does. He flinched, but her sharp nails indented his cockhead where they rested. He dare not try to remove himself from her spider-like grip. ÒPut the belt down, dear. It is too slow. A riding crop is much preferable. It marks the skin more deeply and quickly,Ó Elsa said. ÒDo you have a riding crop? I donÕt feel like going back to my car to get mine.Ó ÒNo,Ó Rod said. She squeezed the head of his penis hard, letting her nails bite into his flesh. ÒI mean, yes! Of course! I still have ours that we used last year.Ó ÒGet it, darling,Ó Elsa said to him in a whispery voice that sounded, nonetheless, like the Voice of Doom. ÒRight,Ó Rod answered. He managed to free himself with a backward yank from her grasp. He hurried over to his chest of drawers. His big cock bobbled lewdly with his every step. Bending over, showing his ass and his bouncing testicles to my gazing eyes, he opened the bottom drawer. Up he rose with a riding crop. It was short and workmanlike, but with a big decorative leather loop at the end. ÒYes, that will do quite nicely,Ó Elsa said. She strode over to him and took it from him. ÒNow, letÕs see how this little dearÕs bottom responds to the crop,Ó Elsa said. She bent over me. I felt a quick impress and shouted as a burning line made itself felt across my seat. ÒYes, thatÕs much better,Ó Elsa said. Rod could only stare at her and watch. Again she struck me, lying flat on my belly on the rug, and again I bleated like a sheep within my gag. She waited while I twisted about on the rug, my ass burning, my cunny hot and hungry and the fuzz of the rug endlessly rising up into the aperature of my legs and teasing me. ÒWhatÕs this? A little chain. My, arenÕt we naughty?Ó Elsa asked aloud. She reached down between my thighs where the chain had fallen and lifted it up. ÒHmmm, I wonder what itÕs connected to?Ó she asked with feigned innocence. She pulled hard on it and my labia tugged under it and I screamed anew. ÒAhh, the cunny. A cunny chain. How cute. How obedient this little lass will be now that IÕve got her sex on a leash!Ó I pressed my thighs tightly together but it was useless. SheÕd already drawn the chain up and away from me, holding it up over my bottom. Only the very tip, the business end of it, with the clamp, still dipped between my legs, at the base of my bottom. There my thighs actually separated a little, giving it room, despite my squeezing, keeping me from controlling it. I was whipped repeatedly with the crop. After each blow Elsa waited while I squirmed like a fish on the carpet. I squeezed my hind cheeks together to try to throw off the pain but it only seemed to make it worse. ÒYes, you need training,Ó she told me simply. And she hit me again, right on my fanny, marking me with the crop. ----------------------- Fuck Decency! ----------------------- -Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller666@aol.com -To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 Diapergirls! (CuntCastle2d) -My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller6666 CuntCastle3b here! -My ftp site is: members.aol.com/nnd666 NudieNursery5 here! -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com -Fuck Decency: http://members.aol.com/nnd6/fuckdecency.html -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF ftp EMISSION