Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in 
LUSTÕS LAIR

Chapter One

	Deep in the mountains of Bosnia, there is a refuge from the modern world.  A castle looms amidst the rocks there, often so shrouded by mist that it cannot be seen.  Dense forest blocks all but a single road to the castle.  For the last 30 miles it is a dirt road.  Here, like a lost island, the rules and codes of the 20th century fall away.  
	Few know about the castle.  For the peasants, living in the hamlets scattered beyond the forestÕs deepest parts, the castle is a dangerously mysterious place.  In Europe, and in America, and increasingly in Russia, the castle is known as a daunting sexual retreat.  A few bold couples choose to go there, despite the expense, despite the rumors of things gone wrong.  This is the story of one of them.

	They arrived looking like the perfect tourists.  The man was from Connecticut, 25, dressed in a slick Armani suit for the occasion.  The woman, just a girl really, for she was only 17, wore a pretty brimmed hat with a daisy in it.  When she spoke her voice had an artless Southern drawl to it.  Not deep, just the light, civilized drawl of a Southern girl brought up in a proper middle class home.  A black mesh veil of fine silk covered her eyes.  She wore a white blazer that matched her hat and elegant high heeled booties.  She had white gloves on her hands.  Her skirt was the only clue she might be daring, it hugged her bottom like a glove and stopped just below it.
	AngelaÕs servant met them at the door and brought them to her.  She greeted them where she greeted all her guests, in the parlor, amidst the eighteenth century photo albums of relatives long-dead and the much-fingered King James Bible.  It was a small room, with tall windows that looked out on the forest, giving a spectacular view, but the drapes, on this day, as on most days, were drawn shut.
	ÒPlease go upstairs and undress,Ó were the first words Angela spoke to her guests.  She was drinking tea, but she did not even turn her head to acknowledge the young couple standing in the entrance to the parlor.  She did not care to waste her time with the uncommitted.  
	The man began to speak.  Angela put her teacup down.  She looked the man straight in the eye.  ÒPerhaps youÕve come to the wrong address,Ó she smiled sweetly.  But her eyes held a look of contempt.  ÒPlease go upstairs and undress.Ó  She saw them fidget.  A small concession was required here, if she were to keep them, she realized.  And, since they were both as beautiful as their pictures had indicated, the girl with long flowing blonde hair and the man dark and rugged, she decided to make it.  ÒThere are swimsuits on the guest bed,Ó she explained.  She saw a wave of relief wash over the guestsÕ faces.  Always they clung to this little straw, she said to herself.  This last little straw that helped them lie to themselves.  About themselves.
	She looked the girl over with increasing interest.  She was petite, and a minor to boot, but with luscious round breasts and a narrow waist with svelte hourglass hips.  Her legs, sticking out from her short, glove-like skirt, were breathtaking in their length.  Angela liked the girlÕs choice of clothes.  It was a pity that she got to see so little of this aspect of a girl, but it couldnÕt be helped.  Gazing at the girlÕs bust, she said to her, ÒDo not put on the bikini bra the servant laid out for you.Ó The girl, following AngelaÕs eyes, glanced self-consciously down at her chest.  ÒJust the panties will be fine,Ó Angela told her.
	The girl blushed.  Jill was her name.  She looked at her boyfriend, Dave.  For help, for approval.  But he gave none.  ÒWell, it is Europe, after all,Ó Jill finally said.  Only then did her boyfriend notice her and her misgivings.  Tearing his eyes away from Angela, he nodded in agreement with her.
	Yes, the small concession had been worth it for this one, Angela told herself.  She gazed admiringly at the young man and did not try to conceal it.  Some boyfriends, or husbands, were not much to look at.  But this one was a true Adonis.  She would have to keep his girlfriend occupied so she could enjoy him.  

	The servant led the young couple upstairs.  Angela permitted them this small moment of privacy, but she could easily guess their movements, their hushed words.  She painted a picture of it in her mind and knew it was correct.
	The guest bedroom was large and spacious.  The couple was surprised.  They had come seeking strangeness, instead found luxurious convention.  A stately bed bore embroidered covers, sewn by the women in the village, patterns of baroque trees and flowers and, hidden within the trees, a shy fawn.  The bedÕs frame, right up to its pillar-like bedposts, was sturdy.  Pillows lay plumped against the headboard like conspiring lovers.
	The maid closed the bedroom door to give them privacy.  But she listened, her ear against the door.  It interested her to hear what was spoken.  Her friends in the village would enjoy the fresh gossip.  They would give her fresh loaves of bread in exchange for it.
	Within, the intimate conversation of the couple.
	ÔShould we?Õ the girl asks her lover.
	ÔWe must.  We have come already,Õ he replies gruffly.  He does not wish to be asked to reconsider their decision.  He is too hard up now to reconsider it.  Too drawn in by AngelaÕs eyes and her awesome figure.
	The girl beside him figets.  She holds her purse like a talisman, as if it will protect her from her decision.  Taking off his shirt, seeing her hesitancy, her lover comes over to her and unceremoniously unzips the back of her skirt.  
	The girl drops her purse and claps her hands to her unzipped skirt.  It is half-fallen already, showing her bottom.  He puts his hand to the back of her panties.  He yanks down their seat, showing himself her white cheeks that he longs for.  The girl utters a screamy gasp.  The maid outside must put her hand to her mouth quickly to avoid giving herself away in laughter.
	A gruff command inside the bedroom.  Then, silence, as the two of them undress themselves.  A peace renews itself between them as their clothes fall away and they find themselves both naked.  The girl asks her lover again if they can leave.  She approaches him, seeks intimacy, compassion.  Lightly her fingers graze his stemming cock.  She feels she is stroking a lion.
	ÒShe is the best,Ó he tells her.  The girl looks up at his face, wide-eyed, still running her fingers over his erection.
	ÒAt what?Ó she asks.  He pulls away and motions to the swimsuit laid out for her on the bed.  He walks to the side of the bed where his own suit lays waiting.
	ÒAt what?Ó she asks him again.  She looks forlorn.  The man picks up the trunks the maid has laid out for him.  He looks them over with a quick, manly interest.  They are Speedoes.  A mistake has been made.  They are a size too small.  He considers requesting a larger size for himself but decides to make do with what he has been given.  He struggles into the suit.  It cups his balls hard and he has to work to get his erection somehow within it.  He considers stroking himself off but knows, somehow, that Angela would not approve of this method of accomodating himself to the suit.
	The girl holds the miniscule panties assigned to her in her hands.  It is a small, white bikini bottom, looking quite pure but at the same time so unsubstantial as to obviously not be for swimming.  A vee of fabric in front promises to cover at least part of her bush.  But, despite this small token of privacy, it quickly repents.  The part of the panties designed to run between her legs has no gusset.  Instead there is only a string-like strip of cloth.  She knows it will wedge itself into her and rub her spot the minute she puts it on.  
	She checks the back.  A mere demi-seat, barely able to cup the center of her fanny, forms the pantyÕs rear.  She looks at her lover again in hopes that he might repent and take her away, clothed again in her pretty Sunday clothes, with the specially-short dress that he bought her to show her off in, but he merely adjusts himself in his swimsuit and looks at her expectantly.       

	In a little while, the couple returned.  Angela glanced up at them as they came to the parlor door.  The servant led them.  They halted at the door, afraid, perhaps, to enter.  Like a referee before a race Angela looked over their bodies.  
	The man was naked now, except for a competition-style Speedo swimsuit.  It hugged his genitals and his butt with crude efficiency.  His penis, trapped by the nylon fabric, hung in front of him.  He looked as if a snake had been curled and then dropped in the front of his suit.  Marie could even make out the outline of his circumcised cockhead.  Arriving in the doorway, he asked Angela if they could have towels.
	Angela laughed.  ÒPlease, come sit down and share my tea,Ó she replied.  The couple entered the parlor.  The manÕs well-hung equipment jostled within his suit with his every step.  His girlfriend walked calmly, letting her breasts bounce freely and nakedly.  She blushed a little as she walked into the parlor.  Angela gazed at her bosoms with practised interest.  She watched as the girl became uncomfortable under her gaze.  Yet her nipples stuck out with promising stiffness.  She did not try to hide her breasts behind her hands and she had bravely cast her long mane of hair behind her back so that it would not conceal her.
	The servant indicated a loveseat across from Angela for them to sit in.  The two Americans sat down.  The girl noticed that there was a white doily under her, on the seat, as she sat down on it.  Astutely, she did not try to remove it.  As gracefully as she could she planted her bottom on it, causing the plushly upholstered seat to sink under her.  When she looked down between her legs she saw that the doily was present there.  A bit of its round lace edge peeped up at her between her thighs.
	ÒPlease put a hand in your panties,Ó Angela said to the girl.
	ÒWhat?Ó Jill replied.  
	ÒI have given you the option of modesty, but thatÕs all,Ó Angela replied.  ÒYou may wear panties if you wish as we share tea, but you must put your hand in them.Ó
	The girl cast a quick glance at her boyfriend.  He offered little help.  His swimsuit had stretched considerably in front.  He seemed almost to be grinning, just barely holding back a devilish smile.  Angela smiled at him and indicated silently with her eyes that she approved of his eagerness.
	ÒDo as she says,Ó Dave said distractedly to Jill.
	Jill blushed.  Hesitantly, she put her fingertips inside the waistband of her panties.
	ÒAll the way in,Ó Angela said to her in a no-nonsense voice.  Her eyes were uncompromising.  ÒPut them in and play with yourself.  Play with your cunt.  Do not stop unless I tell you to.Ó
	Jill blushed fiercely but complied.  As her boyfriend watched with eager eyes, she slid her fingers all the way into her panties.  Like her skirt and blazer and gloves had been, they were white, but they gave her no protection.  As her fingers reached the base of the vee that covered her pussy, they popped out again.  Only the string covered her between her legs, where Angela wanted her to touch herself.  Jill was forced to lift the string from between her legs, which gave her a momentÕs relief, using her trapped fingers in her panties to do it.  But then she was obliged to stick her fingers underneath the uplifted string and find her spot with her fingertips.
 	Divested of all but this tiny fragment of her former white-clothed purity, itself a gift, her own, more substantial panties, left upstairs, Jill began to play with herself.  She tried to do it delicately but Angela frowned and snapped at her, ÒDonÕt just diddle yourself.  Stick your fingers into your cunt.Ó  
	Jill looked plaintively at her boyfriend but he was preoccupied with AngelaÕs gaze.  She looked down at herself.  With her other hand she helpfully lifted up the crotch-string that made a negligible effort to inhibit her.  Then, freed of it, holding it up from herself, with her other hand she dove deeper still, within her nether lips, and wiggled her fingers within her snug tightness.
	The servant, a middle-aged woman, poured tea from a silver teapot.  She served Dave first.  Then she poured a cup for Jill.  She handed it to Jill just as JillÕs fingers touched her sexual core.    
	ÒOh!Ó Jill blurted.  Her exploring fingers felt a juicing of wetness inside her.  She blushed again, but Angela merely stared expectantly, and the maid waited to give her tea.  Jill let go of her crotch-string and accepted the tea.  She glanced at her boyfriend.  He showed no interest in her.  He was unconcerned with her plight.  She was making herself wet but he remained with his eyes fixed on Angela.
	Their host, however, was quite attentive to JillÕs condition.
	ÒKeep playing with yourself, Jill,Ó Angela ordered her as Jill attempted to sip from her teacup.  Jill pouted in disapproval but obeyed.
	So, drinking as delicately as she could from the china cup containing her tea, the young girl brought herself to new unexpected spasms.  Small, unexpected explosions of sound escaped her throat as she attempted to drink her tea.  
	Jill tried as hard as she could to ignore her rising pleasure.  Certainly her boyfriend paid no attention.  The maid, waiting as if to give her more tea but actually watching her masturbate, observed her much more closely than he did.  He was entranced with Angela.  Angela sipped tea and watched Jill as a mother does, ready to reprove mistakes.
	Glancing about the curtain-shrouded room, trying not to dwell on her feelings, Jill drank her tea.  She drank with a sensitivity to manners, despite her masturbating, for sheÕd been raised in a home that prized its manners and its southern traditions.  Her mother had taught her to always hold the cup with one finger extended, and Jill did this, though now her finger trembled a little.  When sheÕd finished her cup of tea, the maid took it and refilled it without Jill having to ask.  She understood that she was to drink this second cup too, and she hoped she did not have to ask permission, when the time came, to visit the restroom.  Tea tended to go through her rather quickly.
	Sitting like a dark-haired lion on the loveseat next to her, Dave, JillÕs boyfriend, needed no encouragement to stroke his genitals.  Angela could see they were paining him and his hands ran hopefully along his flanks, stroking even the insides of his thighs like a female might.  But she gave him no permission to pleasure himself.  The male did not need to be brought up to speed, like the female.  He needed to learn restraint.  He needed to learn to hold his seed inside himself until the female was ready for him.
	It was a big change from just a few minutes ago, Angela thought, when heÕd attempted to challenge her request that they undress.  She watched his hands running along his hair-laden thighs and when he suddenly jerked and reached for his suit in some spasm of need, not to masturbate but to adjust himself, she felt sorry for him.  She smiled at him and told him he could play with himself if he wished.
	He cleared his throat.  Keeping his hand from himself, taking a re-filled teacup from the servant, he asked, ÒShall we be going swimming, then?Ó  His voice was manly, commanding.  She saw that he was trying hard to act his age and even to take control of the situation.  He did not want to be seen as a masturbating little boy, despite his desperation.
	ÒOnly in the sea of love,Ó Angela smiled.  He looked up, startled, as he sipped his tea.  His cock lengthened even more in his suit.  ÒThis isnÕt the Holiday Inn,Ó she added quietly.
	ÒNo,Ó he replied.
	ÒWhy do you wish me to do this?Ó the girl asked.  Her nipples were harder than ever and she shook her hair back.  She was becoming heated.  Her hands worked inside her cunny, her crotch-string pushed aside, a wetness had formed on her nether lips.
	ÒYou must not speak unless you are spoken to,Ó Angela replied.  She did not look at the girl.  She kept her eyes fixed expectantly on DaveÕs crotch.
	ÒBut IÕll be... well I already am...Ó the girl said.  She looked down between her legs.
	ÒWet?Ó Angela asked.  ÒYou are swimming, then, as your boyfriend wishes.  But in your own juices.Ó
	ÒOh, I donÕt--!Ó the girl began.  Angela silenced her with a finger to her lips and a quick glance.
	ÒIt may seem indelicate for me to inquire, but I must know her sexual history,Ó Angela said to her boyfriend.  
	The servant brought a riding crop, a very long and slender one, and handed it to Angela.
	ÒYes, thank you,Ó Angela said, almost distractedly.  She placed the crop across her lap.  She continued to gaze with interest at Dave, alternating her glance between his face and his swimsuit.  A wet spot was forming on it where his pee slit was, issuing forth the pre-cum of his arousal.
	To further enflame him, not waiting for him to answer her question, Angela told him about herself.
	She was almost 30, and felt every nuance of her age, though she might have, she admitted, easily passed for someone younger, for she had high breasts and trim hips and liked to keep her hair hanging free, though on this afternoon it was piled up in a bun on her head to give her a look of authority.
	Angela had Ôbegun early,Õ as they say, and quickly tired of conventional sex.  When she came into money unexpectedly, she quit college.  She went on a tour around the globe.  It had one purpose, concealed beneath its respectable appearance.  She wanted to find a sexual hideaway where she could practise and discover the rarest and most beautiful aspects of human sexuality.  
	She almost bought in Myanmar.  There was a lovely run-down Buddhist temple there that she longed to restore and make an earthly paradise, devoted to sin.  But the generals who ran Myanmar were too harsh and unpredictable, she decided.  So she settled on Bosnia.  Passing through, at the height of the war, she heard of the castle.  Against all advice, the peasants fearing the castle more than they feared the war, afraid to even speak of it, she drove to it and entered it.  Alone.  She came at dusk and unrolled her sleeping bag in the living room.  Then she undressed.  Crawling into her sleeping bag utterly nude, she dared the castle to destroy her.  She felt a heart-racing thrill as she watched the last bits of daylight disappear from the living room.  In the blackness of the night she met her match.  A man from the dead.
	Angela relished the attentiveness of her listeners.  Despite his hard-on, the man listened intently, absorbed in her life and her story.  The girl, still inciting herself, though as diffidently as possible, listened raptly.   
	Angela sipped her tea and continued.  The peasants, she discovered, had not been foolish in their fear.  In the depths of the night she met the castleÕs spectral ruler.  He was gaunt and handsome and she could not touch him but she felt touched by him.  She nearly died of fright within his illusionary hands.  He made her perform unspeakable acts for her, all by herself with him watching, goading, forcing her to do what she longed to do but could not do without someone making her.  She was forced to play with herself and he made her pee in her sleeping bag.  He took her outdoors and in the cold he made her cut a birch branch for herself, with a knife he gave her, or was it one she found in the grass?  She had to bend herself over a trestle in the castleÕs cellar and whip her own bottom.  As she whipped herself he made her suck him, though another might have thought it merely a dildo she sucked, she knew it was him, for when she was sore and tender he issued a cold brew into her mouth.
	She ran to the top of the castle stairs when she felt the need and she pooped her dinner out of a window.  There should not have been a wagon below but somehow, despite the late hour, there was, and a funeral procession no less, and she plopped her turds on the half-swathed dead body that lay in the wagon, and she knew it was him, passing below her even as he watched her within the castle tower itself.
	In the wee hours of the morning he presented himself to her anew.  Stemming freely and lustily despite his untimely death, despite the centuries that had passed since he walked on the earth and could dig it up and hold it in his hands, he carried her swooning downstairs again, to the cellar, and he fucked her boldly.  He was relentless with her.  She screamed but his need was that of a madman and for several hours she could not satisfy him, no matter how hard she tried.  He kept pummeling her.  He fucked her like an animal fucks one of its own kind, for she was human but her lusts, he told her, were inhuman, as he himself now was.
	When daybreak came she found a bargain struck between them:  the castle could be hers, if she used it for sex.  She promised him she would.

	The girl had experimented a little.  Her boyfriend described to Angela, as Jill sat listening, still required to play with herself, how theyÕd gone to an orgy.  And heÕd taken her to a sex dungeon in New York.  Jill figeted a little as he spoke of it, as if her bottom still remembered it.
	ÒAnd the anus?Ó Angela asked, still addressing JillÕs boyfriend exclusively.  ÒShe has been fucked there too?  I donÕt permit virgins here, vaginally or anally.Ó
	ÒWell, um,Ó the young man with the very full swimsuit coughed.  ÒUh, yeah, I guess...Ó he looked over at Angela.
	Sensing she might be relieved of her duty to rub herself, Angela piped up, ÒNo.  IÕm a virgin back there.  IÕd never let anyone violate my hiney.Ó
	Angela frowned.  SheÕd sent them a questionnaire while they were both still in America.  Jill had put herself down as an anal virgin then, too.  ÒI gave you explicit instructions to fuck her in all of her holes before you brought her here,Ó Angela said to Dave.  ÒYou wrote back assuring me that you would.Ó
	ÒWell, I...Ó Dave began.
	Angela flicked the riding crop on her lap.
	ÒHe just didnÕt, thatÕs all,Ó Jill piped up, as if fearing she might get in trouble for refusing him.  The man was older than Jill but perhaps he was still too sensitive, Angela mused.  He must be made a thorough-going master, not one who permits his female improper liberties.  She glanced at the girl.  She was a high-schooler still, a little more daring than her friends, perhaps, but still wilful and disobedient like a girl, enjoying her refusals.  She must be brought to the full flower of womanhood.  She must learn to accept her body and its needs and, more importantly, the needs of the men in her life.   
	ÒCome here, both of you,Ó Angela said.  The lovers looked at each other and then rose up from their loveseat.  Instinctively, turning her head, Jill looked down at the doily on the seat.  It was wet from her sitting on it.  She had drawn her hand from her panties and now she walked self-consciously with her boyfriend over to Angela.  
	The woman sized up her new guests.  She was only a few years older than the male, but she exceeded him by vast amounts, she guessed, in experience.  His cock jutted so rudely and energetically at her face, trapped in his swimsuit, that she dismissed all thought of sending him away unfulfilled, despite his broken promise.  She would teach him how to handle a young woman and make her behave and do as he wished.
	Angela looked directly at Jill.  ÒThis will be the roughest sex youÕve ever had,Ó Angela said.  She decided not to mince any words with this virgin.  She had lost her own virginity long ago and the mind games of silly young girls were tiresome to her.  ÒVery rough.Ó  She gazed intently at Jill.  ÒYou will have to give everything youÕve got, just to survive.Ó
	Jill, standing all but naked in her little white panties in front of Angela, shivered and stroked her thighs with her hands.  A glance at her boyfriend was only rewarded with a passionate smile.  He gazed at her now, at her breasts, at her tummy that heaved inward under her ribs.  As instructed she had not brought any pills with her.  She realized she wanted him, not just for a boyfriend but for life, and she knew it was a big decision and the fact that she was willing to make such a decision scared her.  Yet he looked at her now with such interest that she could not stand the thought of leaving him or of denying him anything.  
	ÒWill... will it hurt?Ó Jill managed to stammer.
	Angela smiled at her.  ÒSome days the pain will be so intense youÕll think youÕre going to die.  Other days the pleasure will be so overwhelming youÕll forget who you are,Ó Angela said.  JillÕs hands sleeked from the outside of her thighs to their creamy insides.  She looked as if she wished to put them into her panties again.  ÒYou must consider this a mission, my dear,Ó Angela continued.  ÒA quite impossible mission, one you may decline, even now, if you wish.  But once you begin your journey, there will be no going back.  No let up.  No escape.  I will not allow it.  The integrity of the experience must be preserved.Ó  
	Angela eyed Jill expectantly.  Jill looked to her boyfriend, found he was barely inside his swimsuit anymore.  His cockhead threatened to burst from its waistband.  
	Her breathing shaky with excitement and fear, but too aroused to decline, thanks to her busy fingers, Jill nodded.  When she realized sheÕd nodded, she froze.  Then she let out a great sigh of relief that sheÕd decided, only to freeze again as she realized how momentous her decision had been.
	ÒVery good.  ItÕs settled then,Ó Angela said to Jill, but not looking at her anymore, as if she were just a doll.  
	ÒAnd, uh, I guess I will too,Ó Dave coughed.  His cockhead peeped out of the top of his swimsuit.  Just the pee slit, but enough to show he wasnÕt thinking of going anywhere at all.  Angela looked at him and laughed.  
	ÒYou men have a handy instrument that makes all your decisions for you,Ó she smiled.
	ÒDo I... do I have to take off my panties now?Ó Jill piped up helpfully.  Perhaps she hoped to find satisfaction with her boyfriendÕs hard on, pleasing both herself and him, avoiding the scary abyss that was lurking in AngelaÕs words.  Perhaps she hoped all would be merely conventional, like it had always been between them before.
	ÒOh my love, this is my castle youÕre in now,Ó Angela purred to Jill.  She watched as the girlÕs nervous, anxious fingers played tensely across her panties and settled on her pantied bush.  Her clit was just below, aching.  ÒYou could mount your boyfriend in America.  ThereÕs no need for you to come here to get what heÕs already given you elsewhere.Ó  Angela lifted her riding crop.  ÒHave you been whipped before, my dear?Ó
	ÒNo,Ó Jill gasped.  She stared at the wicked crop balanced between AngelaÕs fingers.
	ÒIt is important at the beginning of any relationship to establish who is in charge and who is not,Ó Angela said to the girl.  The words were the same she spoke to every girl who came to her castle.  She said them with disinterest, as if they were nothing, like a cab driver giving his fare.  She flicked her eyes at Ron.  He was included too, of course, but the girl had always to be dealt with first.  Girls could cause the most trouble in a castle run by a woman.  The men were easy.
	ÒYes,Ó Jill said, nodding.  She bit her lip compliantly, reassuring herself that she was making the right decision, not permitting a contrary thought to break through.
	ÒPlease pull down your panties and turn around and show me your bottom,Ó Angela told Jill.  The girl flinched.  She looked at her boyfriend but heÕd slyly slid a hand to his crotch.  Ostensibly it was to straighten himself but his hand lingered unnecessarily.
	ÒI--Ó Jill began.
	ÒDo you remember what I said about not speaking unless youÕre spoken to?Ó Angela asked.  Jill reluctantly nodded.
	Angela lifted her crop with a tentative air.  She motioned for Jill to turn around.  The maidÕs hand took JillÕs teacup from her.  Jill glanced anxiously at her boyfriend and then she turned around so that her bottom faced Angela.  It was a large, well-formed ripe pumpkin, jutting back fulsomely behind her despite the trimness of her hips.  Angela tapped her pantied seat with her riding crop.  Jill bit her lip and squeamishly pulled her panties down in back to show Jill the bottom that Dave had insisted on spanking with his hand when they visited the dungeon in New York.
	ÒYes, nice and plump.  You choose your bottoms well,Ó Angela said slyly to Dave.  She tapped JillÕs bare seat and the girl gave an insecure cry of alarm, despite the lightness of the tap and AngelaÕs complimentary words.  For a moment she was at home in her motherÕs parlor and she blushed at how sheÕd never have been allowed to pull down her panties in her motherÕs parlor.  Yet now here she was, in a parlor at least as prim and conservative as her motherÕs, yet despite being a small girl wondering if she could moon the visiting pastor she was a big girl, and knew better, but her bottom was bare.
	Angela tugged lightly on the tip of her crop and then released it.  The hard length of it snapped against JillÕs ass.  The girl leapt like a fish.
	ÒDoes it excite you to feel my crop hitting your butt?Ó Angela asked Jill frankly.
	ÒN-no,Ó Jill protested.  But her tummy felt all fluttery and she knew no matter how much she loved Dave she would not be standing there showing off her fanny to Angela if it didnÕt thrill her a little.  The sinfulness of it made her tremble.  Angela was beautiful and eminently mature, just like JillÕs lady friends who used to play bridge with her in the parlor.  And here Jill was, showing off her proud young bottom and daring Angela with it.
	ÒPart your legs,Ó Angela said to Jill.  She touched her bottom with her fingertips.  Jill, taut like a bow, opened her legs slightly. 
	Angela inserted the tip of her crop between JillÕs legs.  Jill drew her breath in abruptly.  Angela rubbed her cunt.  She threaded her crop between JillÕs nether lips and worked the crop across JillÕs spot like a saw.
	ÒWe will go to the barn,Ó Angela said to Jill.  She withdrew her crop.  ÒPull up your panties so the workmen donÕt see your bottom.Ó
	Angela rose behind Jill.  The girl felt her commanding presence behind her and quickly drew up her panties to hide her bottom.  They did not hide as nearly as much of her seat as she liked but she understood that they would do.  She smoothed her seat to tidy it but the minute she took a step forward her seat wedged up into her bottom, showing even more of her than it already did.
	
	Outside it was cold and the sun was going down.  The workmen who had seen the two Americans arrive in their rented Porsche now saw them step out of the house, with Angela, dressed in swimsuits as if for European swimming, the girl topless.  But the three headed for the barn and the workmen knew there was no swimming pool in the barn.
	Angela herself remained clothed, walking in her black dress that hugged her hips and her prominent bosom, her dark hair piled high on her head.  Gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears.  Jill also wore earrings, and heels, belying her swimsuit, which was itself too small, despite being made of nylon, for anything short of swimming in a private pool.  The workmen tipped their hat to Jill as she passed them.  She walked hand-in-hand with her boyfriend.  He strode confidently across the grass, wearing only his shoes.  She walked less surely, dragged along behind him, like a cork bobbing along in the wake of a speedboat, tethered to it.  Toadstools sprouted in the grass and although he walked oblivious to them, kicking off their tender heads with his every footstep, Jill tried delicately to avoid them.  Angela whisked at a few with her crop, decapitating them.
	Dave flushed a little as he saw the workmen but tried to ignore them.  He was 25, young and strong, and except for his lack of clothing he had no reason to feel unconfident before them.  Certainly, pulling up in his porsche, with a beautiful young girl beside him, he had been the very picture of confidence.  HeÕd spoken to them with that measured disdain one reserves for the lower classes, workmen who toil in the dirt, digging ditches and hauling rocks, making the world pretty for the wealthy, brash young men who play in it with their girlfriends.  TheyÕd directed him to the house when heÕd asked them if Angela lived there.  TheyÕd been silent, as they were now, but they did not keep their eyes lowered now as they had before.  Instead they stared at him frankly, at his swimsuit which wouldnÕt get wet, except with his pre-cum.  They looked at his penis as it joggled inside his suit, a joystick yearning to break free.  Dave did not look at them at all this time.  Instead he kept his eyes straight ahead, walking with his love across the mushroomed grass with Angela walking beside him, swinging her crop.
	A workman, breaking from the others, ran ahead to open the barn.  He lifted a heavy wooden bar from double doors.  He was old and frail, not like the others, who were middle-aged, but he still managed to get the bar up and, heaving it onto the grass, he pulled wide the barn doors.  Angela walked past him, Dave beside her, towing Jill.  
	The workman pushed the doors closed.  Jill found herself standing in the hushed silence of the barn.  She could smell a horse and she heard the whisking of the horseÕs tail as it flicked it across its haunches.
	It was chilly in the barn, but not excessively so.  Outdoors it had been cold but JillÕs first hint that this was much more than a barn came as Angela bent and lit an oil lamp.  Its flame sputtered to life.  Shapes that had lay hidden in the dark suddenly were illuminated.
	ÒMy God!Ó Jill blurted.  As she spoke she heard the workman outside replace the bar in the door with a heavy thud.  She thought she could hear laughter from the grass beyond but she wasnÕt sure.
	Huge machines loomed around her.  Some were clearly farm equipment, intended for sowing and reaping, but others had a much more sinister aspect.  They reminded her of things sheÕd briefly seen in the New York dungeon as her boyfriend hurried her to a private room to give her a hand spanking.
	Bars and trestles lay about her, and two sturdy posts stood in the center, while yet more devices lay beyond, some with blades, as if for shearing crops, or the appendages of humans.  Around her on the walls hung whips and chains and paddles, and rings to put on people, and to constrict their most intimate parts with.  And there were long oblong objects, suitable for fucking, but they were brutish and insensate, not living things, like her boyfriendÕs penis.  And amidst the items of abuse, lay a clutter of oils and gels, and condoms, strewn out ready for use on two tables in the midst of all the equipment.
	ÒTake off your swimsuits,Ó Angela said to her guests.
	Dave let go of JillÕs hand abruptly.  As she watched in horror he quickly untied his suit and pulled it down his legs.  His cock sprang to attention.  It pulsed with its wicked need, all hard and bulging with veins.  Despite her fears at being punished herself, she felt equally alarmed at the display of his penis.  Did he not see the scythes and the cutting blades all around them?  Did he feel so overwhelmed by his passion that he was simply willing to ingore the danger they posed?  Yet her own nipples stood stiffly on her breasts, as hard as his big cock was.
	Jill felt a hard slim object poking into the front of her panties, pulling it down.  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of AngelaÕs riding crop.  Angela pulled on the vee of JillÕs panties, where they covered her in front, exposing her bush.  Jill felt so scared she did not try to resist.  She watched the uncovering for a moment, looking at her curly bush as its wisps of hair were exposed.  Then, fearing she might be punished it she didnÕt help, though she surely would be punished even if she did help, Jill stuck her hands into the waistband of her panties and drew them quickly down her legs.
	ÒYes.  Get them right off.  You wonÕt be needing them here,Ó Angela said to Jill.  The girl drew her panties down to her feet and then bent over nervously to pull them off her heels.  She was all too aware of Angela standing there with her crop as she offered her bottom in getting her panties off.
	As if to ensure the girl that she was, indeed, getting herself into hot water, Angela whisked her crop lightly across JillÕs bare seat as Jill bent to relieve her feet of her tangled panties.  JillÕs nether cheeks retracted with fright.  The rubbery spheres were so bulging and perfect and yet such a tempting target, for wicked minds, as Jill knew.  She was only 9 when sheÕd first noticed boys and even perverted men gazing at them.  Always they seemed to want to poke something between them or, failing that, to swat them.  Jill looked back at her boyfriend but found to her dismay that he only watched with interest, not interfering at all.  He appeared to expect her to be hit.
	ÒGive me your panties,Ó Angela said to Jill.  Meekly Jill handed them over.  Angela thrust her crop into a sash round her waist for safekeeping.  She held up JillÕs panties and appeared to examine them.  Jill blushed at how wet they were, especially on the little string that had run through her cuntlips.  Suddenly, with her long-nailed fingers, Angela began ripping the panties.  Jill watched in horror for the workmen were outside and she had nothing to put on to go back to the house.  Angela shredded the panties until they were nothing but torn bits of fabric.  Then she opened her slender hands and let the pieces flutter to the smooth dirt floor of the barn.
	ÒThere, so much for that nonsense,Ó Angela said.  Jill looked down at her panties like a mother hen regarding eggs which the farmer has taken.  Eggs soon to be smashed to make someoneÕs breakfast.
	ÒGive me your swimsuit,Ó Angela said to Dave.  Willingly, if somewhat in awe of her, JillÕs boyfriend handed over his Speedoes.  Angela sniffed the pre-cum stain on the front of his suit.  Then she ripped up his swimsuit just as lustily as sheÕd destroyed JillÕs.
	ÒAlright, you two, letÕs begin,Ó Angela said to them.  She made no attempt to remove her own clothes.  Instead she brandished her crop at them both and motioned for them to retreat before her.  
	Jill turned and anxiously took DaveÕs hand.
	ÒNo hand holding,Ó Angela snapped.  Dave let go of Jill and she was made to walk beside him without the consolation of his touch.  They came to a trestle.  It was made of bare wood and there were marks on it, as if someone had struggled there, and there were gashes in the wood.  Atop the trestle was a small cushion for a seat and in front of the cushion, right in front of it, almost attached to it, was a rude metal blade.  It was perhaps an inch in height and Jill, inspired for some reason to touch it, felt a sharpness along its exposed surface, not sharp enough to cut but definitely sharp enough to be quite uncomfortable.   A rope dangled down in front of the small blade, about a foot in front of it, as if to catch at something.  Stirrups hung down from the trestle.  Behind the cushion that formed the trestleÕs seat, jutting out from the beam that supported it, were two beams.  They looked like wings, as if this trestle were expected to fly.
	ÒThis is called the horse from hell,Ó Angela said to Dave.  She flicked her crop across his bare hairy ass.  ÒGet on it.Ó
	ÒNo!Ó Jill shrieked.  For she could suddenly see where a young man seated on the trestleÕs seat would find his balls.  Across the blade, split by them and offered up.  Wickedly the blade did not promise to split them between the eggs of his balls, but actually ran underneath both eggs at once, shoving them up so that the front of his scrotum was cut off from the back.  ÒDave, you mustnÕt!Ó Jill begged.  She grabbed his hand but was rewarded with a warning flick of AngelaÕs crop across her own bare seat.
	ÒI can handle it,Ó Dave chuckled, though he sounded none too sure.  He was too young to admit his potential fallibilities.  Lured by AngelaÕs eyes, which yearned for him to test himself, even as she whisked her crop menacingly over his bum, Dave mounted the horse. 
	ÒOuch!Ó he cried as he attempted to settle himself on the horseÕs seat.  For the minute he did, his balls made contact with the little blade in front.  It dug into his scrotum and made it bulge painfully over its sharp edge.  His cock, a big long sausage, was shoved upward by the pushing up of the blade under his balls.  
	Òooooooh!Ó Jill said in a low, meek howl.  She laid her fingers gently upon his uplifted penis and petted the big cock as if it were some tormented animal.  Angela, meanwhile, put the dangling string to good use.  She wrapped its length around DaveÕs cockhead, right behind the flange.  Then she malevolently yanked the rope up, pulling down on its other end where it hung down from the rafters like a bell pull for a bell.
	ÒDing dong,Ó Angela teased.  DaveÕs cock was yanked upright, pushing KateÕs worried fingers aside.  Underneath his balls spread upon the too-thin blade, offered like summer squash for a harvest feast. 
	ÒKneel down and fix his feet in the stirrups,Ó Angela told Kate.  The girl knelt and found she was on flat bare vinyl next to the horse.  The dirt floor had given way to more generous accomodations, though she longed to be back in the dirt by the front door.  It was safer there.  
	Kate buckled her boyfriendÕs feet into the horseÕs stirrups.  Her fingers traced his ankles lovingly, hating to see him bound so, on such an uncomfortable steed, his genitals offered up by it for wicked Angela to toy with.  Angela, meanwhile, drew Dave back so that his arms rested behind him on the wings that jutted out from the trestleÕs top bar.  Keeping his butt on the cushion, he was made to lean back and have his arms strapped to the wings.  When Jill stood up again she was presented with the ungainly sight of her lover showing his cock, his body leaning back to make his cock all the more openly available.
	There was a knock at the door of the barn.  Jill turned her head quickly, expectantly.  Somehow she was sure someone was coming to save them.  She was childlike in her desire for rescue.  Up here in the mountains there could be no rescue, only others like Angela, seeking pleasure and release in pain.
	ÒJill, go see whoÕs at the door,Ó Angela said absently to the girl.  Jill looked at her lover but he seemed preoccupied with his predicament, pained yet delighted to show his manhood so openly to the lovely Angela.  She stroked his staff reassuringly, but not as hard as he wished, for he yearned to spout for her. 
	Jill walked to the front door.
	ÒWho is it?Ó she asked.  
	For answer, she heard the bar lifted.  Then the twin doors opened and, to her horror, a man appeared.  He was dressed in riding gear, as if freshly returned from a ride.  He had a woman beside him and, behind them, as the doors split wide to let them enter, Jill saw two horses, held by reins.
	ÒHello, whatÕs this?  A new guestÕs of AngelaÕs?Ó the manÕs voice boomed.  He was big and swarthy, perhaps 30, with a barrel chest.  Despite his ride his clothes were impeccable.  He wore a British gentlemanÕs polo suit.  Behind him the woman wore a riding cloak with a hood.  ÒWho are you?Ó the man demanded cheerfully.  The woman smiled at Jill.
	ÒIÕm Jill,Ó Jill answered, feeling rather like Alice in Wonderland addressing its weird denizens.  Except Alice at least had the priviledge of wearing clothes, while Jill was forced to confront her new friends in the nude.  
	ÒJill IÕm Rob, and this is Beth,Ó the man grinned.  His eyes had a possessive quality.  He spent as much time admiring her bosoms as anything, and even let his eyes drop frankly to her bush.  The woman, thought slightly more reserved, in deference perhaps to a fellow female, did the same.
	ÒIÕll put the horses up for you, sir,Ó an elderly voice offered.  Beyond Jill saw the elderly man whoÕd opened the barn for herself and her lover, and Angela.  
	ÒYes, why not?Ó Rob replied.  He handed over the reins.  As Rob entered, his lady friend coming in behind him, the elderly servant brought the horses in too, but quickly took them aside and around behind the equipment to where the other horse was stabled, along a far wall of the barn.
	Jill, frightened at the new visitors, yet somehow secretly excited to find herself so helplessly nude before this dashing stranger, turned and walked back to where her lover sat trapped on the horse.  Rob followed, and she had little doubt, as she walked with her bare white fanny swinging behind her, where his eyes were fastened.  She flicked back her mane of blonde hair in an attempt to show confidence.  She did not want to be thought of as only a little schoolgirl, too young to play with men and their penises.  Yet just as she began to feel confident she remembered that she had brought none of her pills.  That made her scared again, for she did not even know this man behind her and already he had a perfect view of her body and all it possessed.  She put her hands to her hips and tried to still the rolling motion as they walked.  She must not excite him.  She did not wish to bear his children.
	Rob, strolling behind Jill, got an entirely different message.  As he saw her put her hands to her hips he imagined her to be framing her bottom with her hands, offering it to him.  As a conessiour of the whip, he imagined Jill, despite her youth, to be a lover of leather who longed for a lashing.  He glanced at his girlfriend and smiled.  She smiled knowingly back at him.  She had been trained by him to love the bite of the whip and she saw his longing for Jill.  She could not deny him, of course, but to reassure him that she would not mind she squeezed his hand and nodded approvingly.  She herself felt an admiration for JillÕs behind.  It was young and high and firm and inviting.  It had the girlish impetuousness of a schoolgirl still about it when Jill walked.  Beth knew Jill would make a fine sexual spectacle when her master brought his many-tailed crop to her hiney.
	ÒWell, well, what have we here?Ó Rob asked.  ÒA young stallion?Ó  
	Dave was forced to confront their new visitors.  He glanced at Rob nervously but was unable to shake his hand, for his own two arms were bound back to the wings of the trestle.  Nonetheless Rob put out his hand, but to shake the staff of DaveÕs cock.
	ÒMy, this oneÕs hard as a rock,Ó Rob gloated.  ÒWhat kind of seat do you expect to offer a woman with that thing sticking up?Ó he asked Dave.  
	ÒA fine seat indeed,Ó Beth gushed.  She blushed a little as she spoke.  Dave was completely offered, his balls shoved up by the bar, his cock strung up, quivering stiffly in its noose.
	ÒAnd how are you faring, sir?Ó Angela asked with a coy glance at Rob.  
	ÒWe were necking in the woods, but he wanted to bring me back to the stable to do me,Ó Beth said.  She looked at Rob, blushed again.  Angela nodded.  SheÕd got Rob and Beth started a month ago, Beth a beginner, Rob a savant, but needing more training, as all men did, at AngelaÕs.  They operated largely on their own now, freeing her to attend to her newer guestÕs needs.
	ÒDo you mind if they play along with us?Ó Angela asked Dave.  She did not look at Jill.  With his cock quivering upright, his balls jammed up under him by the bar, Dave was hardly in a position to refuse.  But she asked anyway, and waited expectantly for an answer.
	ÒIf- if you get undressed,Ó Dave said to Angela.  His eyes stared longingly at her bosom.
	ÒYes, Dave dear, IÕll get undressed,Ó Angela smiled.  She winked at her guests.  ÒWill that please you if I get undressed?Ó
	ÒYes.  Take your clothes off,Ó Dave gasped.  He shifted uncomfortably on the seat.  The blade under his balls cut uncompromisingly into them.
	ÒJust cum if the blade gets too uncomfortable for you,Ó Angela smiled at Dave, turning to walk away.
	ÒI-- canÕt,Ó Dave gasped.
	ÒWell just stop thinking naughty thoughts then,Ó Angela said.  She came round the horse and stood on tiptoe and kissed Rob.  ÒHi sweetie,Ó she breathed when their kiss finally broke.  Beth, meanwhile, crept close to Jill and touched her with seeking fingers.  She touched JillÕs slim shoulder first and then, though Jill started, she did not resist, so Beth stroked the hollow of JillÕs childish tummy, drawn in like her bottomcheeks were, tense and unyeilding.
	ÒRelax,Ó Beth said to Jill.  She kissed the girlÕs cheek.  ÒI like the whip too.  And IÕm always afraid of it before I get it.Ó  Beth passed her hand around behind Jill.  The girlÕs hiney was still clenched and Beth patted it lightly to try to reassure her.  ÒRest your bottom on my hand,Ó she said.  ÒPretend youÕre sitting on it.Ó  Slowly, for Beth was kissing her face and making Jill hot, Jill relaxed her behind.  ÒThere, thatÕs it.  Let it settle into my palm,Ó Beth urged.  ÒSit on it.Ó  As Jill untensed her soft bottom Beth probed within her crevice for her hole.
	Immediately JillÕs seat tightened again.
	ÒOh, youÕre so young and nervous,Ó Beth breathed.  ÒI like that.  IÕm just learning myself how to control my nerves.  But IÕm older than you.  How old are you?Ó
	ÒSeventeen,Ó Jill gasped.  She did not know what to do, with her well-hung boyfriend displayed so rudely beside her, and Beth drawing her close, seeking, finding, working a finger unabashedly into her cheeks.  Beside her the soft sounds of an extended kiss between Angela and Rob assailed her ears.  It was pleasant, and warm, and she was oh so bare, and it was so frightening to be among all these awful machines, yet so erotic too, to think of herself this way, as just a mouth and a hole in front and one in back, and bouncy titties and long legs.
	ÒShall we have our clothes off then?Ó Angela asked.  The question was more rhetorical than not, but Beth, hearing her, nodded, and Jill, forgetting she was already naked, nodded too.
	At first each undressed him or herself, taking off the outer garments, while Jill stood watching, a finger in her mouth, absorbed by her own feelings and the sight of the others.  As the outer clothing fell away Angela and Rob and Beth undid what remained on each other.  Each took pleasure in the otherÕs nudity, exposing breasts, bottoms, and finally loins, Jill helping, her hands getting off BethÕs bra and panties, and helping Angela strip off RobÕs shorts.  She was glad that Dave had taken her to an orgy, for otherwise her fingers would have trembled too much, like they did at the orgy.  Naked, the three did not stop their caresses, but increased them, with Jill joining in.  Jill and Angela felt RobÕs fine upstanding organ while Beth bent and nuzzled JillÕs ass, using her small petite nose to assault the girl and enquire between her cheeks.  Angela played her fingers across RobÕs ass, slapping him a little.  Rob kissed JillÕs head, for she was shorter than him, and grasped and held her breasts and toyed with her perky nipples.
	ÒEnough.  I believe in dressing up for pleasure,Ó Angela sighed at last.  ÒAt least when I have brand new guests like Jill and Dave.Ó  She cast an inviting glance at Beth and Rob and began walking toward the back of the barn, taking JillÕs hand to make the girl come along with her.  Jill hoped for some clothes as she stumbled along behind Angela.  Anything would be better than being buck-naked in a place like this!
	At the back of the barn there was a small dressing room.  There was no door on it for everyone dressed in the presence of everyone else, and without hiding anything.  But the room had a mirror in it for fitting purposes, and there were hangers to hang clothes on, if needed.  In their haste Angela and Beth and Rob had simply draped their clothes over the machines around Dave or let them fall to the floor.
	Angela, as domme, chose a lace-up vest that left her arms free while tying in front to lift and display her boobs.  It was an elaborate affair to get her front all laced up and Jill and Beth helped her, standing naked before her as they suited her up with their darting fingers.  Rob, admiring the view from behind, donned a cape.  He put on leggings that sheathed his powerful thighs and calves but left his groin exposed.  In back, his ass in all its hairy glory stuck out of his pants, for they had no seat.  But a sturdy buckle, part of the pants, had to be buckled around his waist.  His cape, falling down his back, broad enough to cover his shoulders, nonetheless fell just short of hiding his ass.  Bareassed he sat down on a prickly bale of hay and pulled on a pair of knee-high black boots.  
	To go with her vest, Angela chose a short black skirt.  It was slit, for it was meant to flirt in.  Angela adjusted the skirt so that the slit was in back, where it flapped open to show her bare white bottom.  Some decorative lacings adorned the very apex of the slit and Beth and Jill tied up the lacings to make Angela look pretty.  Despite taking five minutes, the lace job, when done, still left AngelaÕs bottom quite exposed, and she paraded back and forth in her skirt a few times, feeling the flapping of the short leather against her thighs.  
	ÒI think IÕll wear this next time I go out,Ó Angela said.  ÒWith white panties underneath.Ó  She laughed.  She looked at Beth.  ÒDo you think it would be too risque?Ó
	ÒI think youÕd have a lot of fun doing the bump and grind,Ó Beth replied.  For AngelaÕs sake, she blushed, despite being quite naked herself.
	Angela, her tits sticking up out of her tight vest, showing her nipples, and her skirt slit up the back, exposing her ass, next put on boots.  She chose knee high boots, so that her bare thighs could be better admired.  Her skirt, meanwhile, being just a bib, really, except where it was slit, where it was nothing, hung out away from her every time Angela bent over.  For Angela didnÕt bother to put her boots on sitting down.  She was in too much of a hurry.  She merely pulled them on, standing upright, then knelt down on the clean-swept rubber-matted floor and tied up the laces herself.
	ÒGet dressed,Ó she nodded to Beth.  ÒI want to get started.Ó
	ÒWhat shall I wear?Ó Jill piped up.  She stood with a finger in her mouth, watching Angela.
	ÒYou, my dear, get to wear a gear belt,Ó Beth smiled at her.  ÒWait a minute and IÕll put it on you.Ó
	Rob, not wanting such a fine young female to feel bereft, reached out from where he still sat on a bale of hay and drew Jill over to his lap.  Unselfconsciously the girl let him put her on the smooth leather trousers that sheathed his legs.  Then, suddenly, she realized his dick was sticking right up at her.
	ÒWhat happened to your pants?Ó Jill squeaked.  She gazed at his boldly stemming penis.  It rose from where his crotch should have been, unrestrained, for the pants, while having legs and a belt, had no groin area at all.
	ÒThese pants are for having sex in,Ó Rob said to her.  ÒDo you like them?Ó
	Jill considered a moment.  She pulled at her lower lip with her finger, as if deep in thought.  ÒNot really,Ó she said.  
	Rob roared with laughter.  With his big calloused hand on her worried tummy, Jill remembering again howÕd sheÕd left off bringing her pills, he laughed until his big hairy guffaws, seizing his chest, shook her right down to her tailbone.  ÒWell, my little lady,Ó he said at last.  ÒIn case you havenÕt noticed, IÕm at least a tad more modest than you are.Ó  Then he drew her closer, lest she take the hint and try to find herself something to wear.  He kissed her face as she tried to resist him, her hands pressing against his chest.  But she didnÕt really try hard to resist him, despite the stubbly dayÕs growth of beard on his chin, and as he kissed her mouth, intruding his tongue into her, seemingly all the way into her throat, she felt one of her hands fall down and flutter over and then grip quite possessively the head of his cock.
	Jill felt Rob reach down and lift one of her legs up.  Still kissing her, he pulled her leg up and over his own so that she was forced to face him with her thighs imprisoned outside his hips.  He drew her closer still and she felt his huge cock stab at her small quiet bush.  Instantly he deposited a big dollop of pre-cum in her pubic thatch and she knew the wetness she felt wasnÕt hers alone anymore.  Impulsively, despite her misgivings about not having her pills along, she urged her hips forward to give him greater contact.
	Suddenly a finger poked its way into her wide-spread bottom cheeks.
	ÒTime to get up and get dressed, little lady,Ó a voice said behind Jill.  Jill squeaked at the assult in her bottom and was down off RobÕs lap before she knew it.  In fact, it was RobÕs girlfriend whoÕd stuck a finger into her hiney-hole.  Her virgin hole, slumbering still, despite all sheÕd already seen this day, and the orgy sheÕd been too, and the New York dungeon where her boyfriend paddled her bottom with his hand.
	As Rob watched, Beth, who was now dressed in a no-nonsense harness and collar adorned with spikes, fitted Jill with a gear belt.  It was a simple belt that went around JillÕs waist and buckled in front.  But it had three big brass rings hanging off it, like loose shutters swinging before an approaching storm.
	ÒWhat are these for?Ó Jill asked.  She passed a finger through one of the big rings.
	ÒTheyÕre for ropes,Ó Beth replied.  Before Jill could protest she finished getting her buckled into the belt and then kissed her cheek.  ÒCome, we must get cuffs for you,Ó she said.  ÒJust in case you decide to be a recalcitrant slave.Ó  She smiled at Jill but Jill only stared back at her.  Rob watched her wiggly white bottom as she was led away from him, and vowed to himself to fuck it thoroughly before their party came to an end.
	
	The four of them dressed, the party resumed round the horse where Dave was so inconveniently seated.  Unlike the rest he still wore only the stirrups round his ankles, and the bonds snapped around his arms.  His penis still had a noose clinging around it.
	ÒNow Jill, weÕre going to perform a little operation on your boyfriend,Ó Angela said merrily.  Donning a nurseÕs cap, which hardly matched her black leather vest or skirt or boots, she nonetheless set about ÔoperatingÕ on Dave.  Beth, whose harness had sharp spikes, handed Angela a small SpanglerÕs candy cane.  Angela licked its tip and then inserted it into the pee hole of DaveÕs penis.
	Dave groaned.  Jill shrieked but nobody paid any attention to her.  She was standing in her gear belt, with two cuffs attached to the side of it.  They looked rather like little wings sticking off the side of her belt and they served to restrain her arms.  They were fastened just above her elbows, and she had been bent back slightly to make her elbows fall even lower agains the side of her body.  As a result, thought standing up straight, and able to walk, Jill was imprisoned with her arms by her sides.  Yet she could not even pass her hands behind herself, for the cuffs stuck out from her belt stiffly and held her arms away from her hips.  Behind her, still in his pants, Rob stroked JillÕs bare bottom.  There was nothing she could do to keep his hand off her and she was forced to accept his caresses, however intimate they might be.  
	Her lover, meanwhile, endured further torments at the hands of RobÕs girlfriend and Angela.  They tied a satin bow tightly around the middle of his penis shaft in hopes of holding back his sperm.  Then, with the candy cane, they began to fuck his pee hole, moving the candy cane in and out of it.  Mericfully, they paused to dip the candy cane in vaseline to protect it from melting and to ease the passage inside his penis a little.  All the while their fingertips played over his throbbing shaft as if it were some erotic flute.  At AngelaÕs insistence, Beth fetched a penis whip.  She flayed it over DaveÕs trapped balls.  The whip had a knotted tip and Beth hit him gently, but Angela told her to hit him harder.  So Beth struck DaveÕs family jewels more forcefully, Jill watching, her pills back home where they could do her no good at all, no matter how damaged his sperm might become in the process.
	Jill felt a nudge between her cheeks and a moment later it became much more insistent.  It was big and knobby and she knew who it belonged to.  She cast her eyes back behind herself, tossing her blonde hair back as she turned her head.
	ÒI havenÕt taken any pill,Ó she explained quietly to Rob.  She tightened her hiney against him and squeezed her thighs tightly together.
	ÒWhat?Ó he asked.  ÒWell, itÕs every man for himself here, and every girl too.Ó  He shoved himself forward and Jill squeaked and her knees buckled and she found herself quite involuntarily entertaining his big thing between her thighs.
	ÒDonÕt!Ó she said.  Her voice was a hushed whisper, as if she didnÕt want her lover to find out she had another man within her.
	ÒYou need a whip on this little bottom of yours,Ó Rob growled behind her.  Jill squirmed in his grasp.  Her bare fanny rubbed against the hair on his stomach.  He was bending down, his knees bent, to better find his way inside her.
	ÒNO I donÕt!Ó Jill protested, at both the whip and his urging between her lips.  She felt his endlessly wet penis-tip deposit pre-cum inside her splurging lips.  ÒDonÕt fuck me!  I havenÕt taken my pill!Ó she squawked.
	ÒRob, are you behaving?Ó Angela asked him slyly, still busily fucking Dave with the candy cane in his penis.
	ÒBetter than you are,Ó Rob answered.  He lifted Jill in his arms.  The girl kicked her feet but the floor was quite gone and they dangled in mid-air.  He eased his hips under her, shoving her bare thighs apart with his own intruding hairy legs wedging between them.  Then, lowering her, gripping her waist tightly with her hands while she twisted her head in protest and flapped her hands, duck-like, unable to move them, he shoved his dick up into her cunt.
	ÒOHHHHHHH!  NodonÕtfuckme IhavenÕthadmyPill!Ó Jill screamed.  But it was useless for her arms were quite trapped and her head was just a bobbing nuisance, facing away from him, and her legs could only kick.  His thighs kept hers wide apart and as Jill shuddered in horror she felt his long shaft plunge deep up into her too-wet vagina, all juicy from her masturbating and her excitement.  He forced himself right up into her womb, taking several minutes to do it, for she was very tight and she clenched herself mercilessly.
	Angela and Beth laughed at JillÕs resistance.  Dave, stuck on the horse, could only watch in horror as his quite fertile little girlfriend was imapled on another manÕs cock.  His own had the indignity of being shafted within itself by a childÕs minature candy cane, one a little girl might hold, or poke her baby brother with.  
	ÒNooooo, donÕt cum!Ó Jill pleaded.  Rob began to lift her up and down by her waist, ignoring her kicking feet, her gyrating hips and her bobbing, shouting head.  He stabbed her repeatedly with his cock.  Each shafting sent tremors of fear through Jill, mingled with ever increasing, unwanted pleasure.  She knew how tight she was and how big he was and the math was not hard for her to calculate.  What happens, she found herself asking quite involunarily, when a bulging pair of balls has a big penis set atop it that rams itself up into a girlÕs small cunny who hasnÕt taken her pill?  And the answer she could almost feel in her scared hollowing tummy under her ribs that would swell with each passing day if he came.
	ÒOh, I have to pee!Ó Jill begged.  Suddenly, with him in her, her tummy swirled and remembered the tea sheÕd drunk.  ÒLet me down or IÕll pee!Ó she begged.  But Rob was merciless and ignored her and assumed she was making a story up to get him out of her.  
	Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, even for Jill, she peed right on him as he shafted her.  Angela and Beth watched fascinated as little Jill, still begging Rob not to cum in her, released a stream of pee on him.  It was soon too much for Rob, once he realized what was happeing, that the little minx was wetting him, and he shot off a thunderous canonade of sperm into her belly.  Hefting her high, he rammed her up and down on himself ever more vigorously.  Jill felt like an infant being killed by its parents as she was shaken up and down on RobÕs fast-moving, hard-driving cock.  Up and down and up and down and up and down she was shaken, all the while he now spurting into her even as she wetted his loins with her pee.
	ÒAghghgh!Ó a male voice shouted.  But it was not Rob.  To the utter surprise of Angela and Beth, whoÕd momentarily forgotten him, though Angela still reamed him lightly with the candy cane, Dave exploded.  As Angela and Beth, suddenly worried at having both men spend themselves, tried desperately to somehow stop the spurting fountain of DaveÕs sperm, he splattered their tummies and his own with his spunk.  
	ÒAh well, cie la vie,Ó Angela smiled at Beth when they both realized their hopes were lost, or at least momentarily delayed.  They soulfully rubbed their bare tummies with their hands, trying at least to massage a little of DaveÕs sperm into their bellies.  Jill, meanwhile, was quite fully sated, much more than she wished.  RobÕs sperm bubbled from her well-shafted cunt and ran down the insides of her thighs.  She looked down beneath her feet and saw a spreading puddle of white in a larger puddle of her pee.  Gently, his pleasure done at last, Rob set her high-heeled feet down into the puddle.  Then he gave her a playful slap on her bare-naked ass and sauntered away, leaving her bird-like trapped in the gear belt with the winged cuffs round her elbows.
	ÒOh help me, IÕm pregnant,Ó Jill sighed.  Her eyes were wide and her mouth lisped open, then hung there, with her tongue drooling a little down her chin.
	ÒPoor dear.  I guess sheÕs gotten to know my husband rather well,Ó Beth smiled.
	ÒYes, and she greedily got everything weÕd been hoping for,Ó Angela said.  ÒWeÕll have to stand her in the corner for that!Ó

----------------------- 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