Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in PASSIONÕS PLAYPEN Chapter Nine Kate walked along the roadside, kicking pebbles and wishing someone would kidnap her. She wanted to be someoneÕs property, wholly and completely. She didnÕt want to live in the real world anymore. She wanted to be a pet, and be fed and cared for and do only as her master told her. But it had to be the right man, she told herself. And then she scolded herself for thinking such thoughts at all. What would her mother think? She hadnÕt served all those years on the PTA so her daughter could graduate from high school and become some manÕs plaything. Yet, Kate mused, turning and watching the trees by the roadside and feeling the wind rippling through her hair, she could only be happy at this point in her life if she devoted herself to a man. Not marriage. ThatÕs not quite what she wanted. A marriage was a partnership. She wanted something... deeper. She watched the moon. It was late. There was nobody around. The road was silent. A rabbit appeared in the grass near her feet and crept out slowly toward her. She shivered from the chill in the wind and the rabbit scurried away. A cloud passed over the moon and she wrapped her arms around herself to try to stay warm. She wondered if she should go back to the house where the orgy was in full swing. It would be warm in the tangle of arms and legs. She had only to enter, and she would soon be amongst them. WasnÕt that a kind of slavery? But John was there and she was tired of John. And she didnÕt want to meet Rose again and feel responsible for what sheÕd done to RoseÕs bottom. Kate heard a car approach. She waited silently, her back to the road. She knew it was very dangerous to stand like this, with her skirt flitting in the wind, without panties on and wearing a constricting corset. She forgot that she was still wearing JohnÕs handcuffs until the light from the carÕs headlights glinted upon it. Then, suddenly panicking, for she knew she must look ridiculous standing by the road in handcuffs with her hair mussed and smelling of sex, she tried to run. But her whole body was frozen with fright and she was forced to watch the car roll to a stop and the side window come down. It was a Porsche. Better luck than she might have expected for a foolish girl who should be back at college doing her homework. A voice called out in the dark. To KateÕs despair it was a womanÕs voice. High-pitched, cultured, but not a Trojan princeÕs voice calling her to be his Helen. When Kate remained still, a bunny waiting to be turned into roadkill, the woman got out of her car. ÒAre you a runaway?Ó the woman asked. She seemed to be in a hurry and a little miffed that some calling of conscience had forced her to stop by the side of the road. And then, looking around, she seemed to entertain the thought for a moment that she was not a potential savior but a potential victim, of roadside bandits. ÒNo, IÕm just, well, um, a party got a little out of hand and I left,Ó Kate said as piously as she could. ÒWell come, then, itÕs terrible you should be out here in the dark by the side of the road,Ó the woman replied. Kate resisted answering any questions in the car. The woman seemed to want to prosecute somebody. Kate told her to take her to the college and then pretended to be asleep. Kate went to a fraternity party the following weekend. She got drunk and she thought she got laid but in the morning, sitting on the toilet in the frat house with a terrible hangover, she decided sheÕd not really gotten anything like what she was looking for. Walking out, she had to step over some boyÕs underpants that heÕd shitted in. She went back to her dorm room and cried a little and then tried to do her homework. Sitting on her bottom, she wished it hurt a little, but it was white and clear and she could sit on it all day if she wanted to, but that meant she had no excuse not to sit at her writing desk and do her homework. When evening came Kate decided to go to a nightclub near the college. She put on a t-shirt that was a crop top and had no sleeves and whose hem, leaving her belly bare, just covered her tits. She jumped up and down a little in front of her mirror in her room to see just how much bouncing the shirt could take without letting her boobs fly out. Not much, she realized, and the thought that she was going to be this racy excited her. For a moment she pondered taking the crop top off. SheÕd bought it a year ago and her breasts had blossomed since, making it much sexier now than her mother had ever intended it to be when sheÕd bought it for her as a 17th birthday present. It had sort of been her momÕs way of acknowledging her sexuality. Kate felt bad wearing the shirt now, when she knew her mother would no longer approve of her wearing it because it was much too small. Kate rummaged through her clothes drawer and took out a pair of bikini hot pants. They were very soft stone-ground blue jeans, with belt loops in them and a snap and a zipper, but they had no sides to them, only a front and a back connected by a slim strip of fabric along the waist. As if to enhance their appeal, they were adorned with a white lace ruffle that ran all along both leg holes. Kate squeezed herself into them and looked in the mirror. SheÕd have to be sure to take her I.D. along to get into the club tonight. She looked like a tramp from some junior high school. Kate pulled on small ankle socks and tied on her tennis shoes. Then she threw a coat over her little outfit, one made of black leather so as not to hide her intentions too much, and she kissed the teddy bear on her bed goodnight and left. Kate saw him standing in the club, near the bar, steadying a drink in his hand and looking too old to be there. He was watching the college girls dance and he seemed to her as if he was acting nonchalant when he really wasnÕt. He had a long face and he was fashionably unshaven, with stubble for a beard. He was wearing an Armani suit, a little upper-crusty for a place where kids dressed like Kurt Cobain were doing their best to act insane. Kate decided to tease him, since he definitely needed someone to take him to task for being in the wrong place, and she had nothing better to do anyway, except let frat boys paw at her bosoms. ÒLooking for your daughter?Ó Kate asked, sidling up next to him. He hadnÕt seen her coming. He looked quickly at Kate and almost seemed to spill his drink. She gave him a snide pouty grin and pretended like she was about to pass on. ÒNo,Ó he answered. ÒThen what are you doing here?Ó Kate asked him. ÒIÕm the owner,Ó he answered. ÒYou donÕt look like the owner,Ó Kate said. She felt an excitement at his words and hoped he was lying to her. ÒI usually live in New York,Ó he smiled. He was in control now and she sensed he knew it. I own a lot of clubs. This is just one of them.Ó Kate felt a thrill run up her spine. She had an odd sensation of wanting to undo the manÕs zipper and see what he had under his expensive Armani suit. She found her fingers lingering near his crotch, in mid-air but still tentatively close to it, and she had to order them away before she did something utterly unpredicatable and foolish. To give her fingers something to do she put them to her half-unzipped leather jacket and unzipped it the rest of the way. Without even asking, the man reached out and slid KateÕs jacket off her shoulders. He managed to hold his drink upright as he did it. His eyes gazed down at her bulging braless bosoms, quivering under her too small tee. Kate found herself still looking at the manÕs crotch. She seemed to see it thicken, but the light was bad and she tried not to think of such things. ÒLetÕs dance,Ó the man said to her. It was less a request than an order. He gave her jacket to someone to hold for her. Kate accepted his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. The night was still young when Kate left the club with the man. His name was Ben, and she rolled his name over and over again on her tongue. He had a Lamborghini and she enjoyed very much riding in it with him beside her. He spoke admiringly of her outfit and she kept her leather jacket folded over her lap so he could admire it. Her boobs had shown themselves a few times while they danced. HeÕd repaired her shirt for her each time theyÕd come flying out. Now, she sensed, he was taking her someplace where her shirt could come off completely. ÒDo you trust me?Ó he asked her, looking across at her as they drove through the city. Kate thought a moment. ÒYes,Ó she answered. Her legs were pressed tightly together and she let her thighs fall open a little. Her jacket, on her lap, covered them. ÒWhy?Ó the man asked. It was a normal question, she supposed, for such a frightened age as the 1990Õs. ÒBecause I know youÕll never hurt me,Ó she answered. She smiled a little at her insouciance. She only knew his first name and he only knew her as Kate. He could be anyone, and she knew he knew she knew nothing about him. ÒBut if I did?Ó he asked. ÒThen I would accept it,Ó she breathed. He looked away. She felt a tremor of fear run up through her belly. What was she doing? she scolded herself. Yet her belly was bare and he glanced back at her, admiring it. Yes, he wanted to fill it, she knew. And she guessed he knew what she knew. ÒYou are right. I would never hurt you,Ó he said to her. He lifted his eyes to her breasts. ÒBut it doesnÕt mean I wouldnÕt... test you.Ó ÒTest me?Ó she asked. She looked over at him. He looked back at the traffic. ÒYes, all girls must be tested.Ó He spoke casually, but she gazed at his crotch to see if he felt anything more and saw, with a little leap of her heart, a bulge develop. ÒNot all the clubs I own are dance clubs,Ó he said to her. ÒOh, really?Ó she asked. She felt her eyes widen and she wished she didnÕt look so naive. ÒNo, I have some other clubs too. Perhaps youÕd like to see the one I own here in town.Ó ÒWhatÕs it called?Ó she asked. ÒItÕs private. I donÕt advertise it,Ó he said. ÒOh,Ó she answered. ÒBut itÕs called the Point,Ó he said. She had not heard of it. He asked if she had and she nodded Ôno,Õ she hadnÕt. They stood within a room. It was on the penthouse floor of a hotel. When Kate and Ben had gotten off the elevator they had been able to admire the entire city. But then a woman had met them and led them down a hall, lined with doors, and put them in a room together. She stood now behind Ben and Kate, as if waiting for orders. She held the door to the room closed behind her. Kate gazed about. There were no windows in the room, despite the glorious view of the city which glimmered beyond its closed walls. The room was dominated by a big bed that sat in the middle of it. But hanging above the bed was a big black whip and along the walls were more implements, all meant to harm a girl. ÒAre you sleepy?Ó Ben asked Kate. ÒNo,Ó Kate answered. She had felt a tremble run through her from the moment they entered this room and she found her knees were shaking and she couldnÕt quiet them. ÒGood, then we can use the bed for something else,Ó Ben said. The woman came round in front of Kate and bent down and began untying KateÕs sneakers. Kate watched her, wishing her legs would quit shaking. The woman got each of KateÕs sneakers untied and pulled them off her feet. ÒGet up on the bed,Ó Ben told Kate. She interpreted his words as an order and decided that since she was now locked in the room with him she might as well do as he said. She walked as casually as she could over to the bed, but she couldnÕt help wiggling her bottom to tease him. When she had climbed up onto the bed she knelt expectantly on all fours and looked back at him. He went to the wall and took down a cane. It was long and thin and made of bamboo. Ben flexed the cane in his hands. They were big hands and he was a big man and Kate felt small in his presence. ÒYes, we can use the bed for something else,Ó Ben said. ÒTake off your shorts. Are you wearing panties underneath?Ó ÒHow could I be?Ó Kate asked. She knelt erect on the bed and unsnapped her shorts and zipped them down. ÒIÕve seen some very small panties in my day,Ó Ben smiled. ÒHave you ever been caned before?Ó ÒCaned?Ó Kate asked. With her shorts unzipped and her bush showing she knelt on the bed and looked at him with her wide, girlish eyes, wondering if she shouldnÕt zip herself back up and make a break for the door. ÒYou were practically a topless dancer in my club tonight,Ó Ben told her. ÒI could lose my license for having that kind of entertainment in my club. This is a conservative town.Ó ÒYes,Ó Kate said quietly. She knew it was. It bored the Hell out of her. ÒI told you to get your shorts off,Ó Ben told her. His voice sounded severe. Kate wriggled them down a little, until all of her bush showed. Still she wondered if she shouldnÕt try to escape this man. WHACK! The cane came down solidly on the bed. ÒGet them completely off!Ó Ben growled at her. ÒI have to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl in my club. Do you want extra swats?Ó ÒN-No,Ó Kate gulped. She had thought the bed was about to lose all its stuffing the way Ben had brought the cane down on it. Quickly she yanked her shorts down the rest of the way, to her knees, and then she sat back bare-bottomed on the coverlet of the bed and pulled them down her calves to her feet. The woman, still nameless, came to the bedside and leaned in over it and took hold of KateÕs shorts and removed them completely from her. She folded them and put them in a dresser drawer. The dresser had phials of lubricant and condoms on top of it. It sat next to the wall. Dangling above the dresser, hung up on the wall, were the whips and rattans and other implements, from which Ben had chosen to take down the cane. ÒBend over. Show me your ass. You seem to enjoy wriggling it around a lot,Ó Ben said to Kate. She looked at him and entertained a defiant air on her face for a moment. Then, seeing he could be even more steely eyed than she, Kate got on all fours on the bed again. ÒGod, what an ass!Ó Ben said. ÒI knew you had a sassy girlish tush but ItÕs truly a work of art!Ó He walked up close to the bed and stared at her behind. Kate bent her head down into the pillow at the head of the bed and let his gaze linger over her heinie. ÒHave you ever had anyone punish it before?Ó he asked finally. Kate prayed her nose wouldnÕt grow and answered, ÒNo.Ó She sensed something grow in him, as he stood behind her. ÒIÕll try not to hit you too hard,Ó he said. But she sensed in his rough voice that he might have difficulty restraining himself. Kate glanced at the woman. She stood a little behind Ben with her eyes lowered and her hands folded in front of her. They rested on her pussy. She had a tight dress on and her hair had obviously been elaborately prepared at a beauty salon for her eveningÕs work. She had lovely brown hair that was curled and coiffed and piled up in abundance on top of her head, with an excess that hung loosely in curls round her face and down to the collar of her dress. It was a choker dress, with a built in choker that wrapped her neck as tightly as it wrapped her hips. It was sleeveless but she wore opera length gloves on her arms to cover them. Her bust was substantial but not enormous. She had long black boots that covered her legs, which would have otherwise been bare for her dress was very short. Still, despite the length of her boots her thighs showed their white tops, between the place where the boots ended and her skirt stopped. Kate felt that if the woman threw her hips forward her skirt would rise enough to show her crotch. But, of course, the woman stood meekly, waiting for any instructions Ben might have for her. Kate was glad the woman was not staring at her bare bottom. The woman had met her and Ben at the door with lowered eyes and she had been quiescent throughout, showing no emotion. Kate didnÕt like having her present but she realized it was necessary. Her master, Ben, couldnÕt be expected to assist her in all her little wants and troubles. The woman was there to attend to KateÕs needs, and to heed BenÕs orders. Kate felt confident. She knew the cane would hurt but she wanted to be hurt a little, to feel her bottom glowing with stings delivered by her master. Then the quiet slavewoman he owned would pamper her afterward, perhaps cuddling her, certainly rubbing salve and ointment into her bottom so it could be saved and healed and used again by her master. And, Kate knew, when her ass was streaked and red Ben would mount her from behind and shove himself into her, taking her in whichever hole pleased him, and she would feel very owned and complete with him shafting himself so deeply into her. Already Kate could see that he was quite big in his pants and she wanted to ask him to take himself out, so she could see what awaited her. But she was afraid she might sound like a slut asking, so instead she lifted her hand to her face and balled it into a fist and bit it. ÒAre you frightened?Ó Ben asked. ÒWouldnÕt you be?Ó Kate replied. But, biting her fist and showing her pearl-white teeth as she did, Kate knew she was only frightened of herself. Why did she want so to be a slave? To be used by a man and penetrated by him? ShouldnÕt she want a nice boy her own age? This man had lines on his face. Yet, as he stared at her, his eyes growing colder, she knew why she wanted him. Because he would be sweeter to her, and tougher on her as well. A college boy might blanch at striking her bottom with a cane, if he even owned one. But Ben wouldnÕt. Yet, after heÕd punished her, she was sure he would see that she was exquisitely pampered. Kate felt her legs trembling at the succor sheÕd be given after her beating. She guessed a penthouse like this had hot baths and steam rooms and massage tables. BenÕs servant would be utterly selfless in nursing her back to health. For every stroke of the cane she suffered she would be given numerous kisses and blandishments. Ben might even shower her with gifts. Rings, diamonds, all was possible with a man of wealth like him. Ben eyed KateÕs tushy. It was round and high and had a cleft splitting the twin creamy cheeks that made his penis strain in his pants. KateÕs face was cherubic and she looked so very young for her age, more like a high school girl or even, if one were willing to let the perversion enter oneÕs mind, a well-endowed eighth-grade girl in junior high. Her body was small but her breasts hung down like ripe fruit, big and swollen, perfect udders for a female cow in a barn full of human girls made to perform like animals. For, he knew, thatÕs where she was headed. He had lied to her in the car and he hated himself for it. He was deeply in debt and only by finding girls like Kate and selling them could he hope to escape. An Arab trader was offering substantial sums for white females. But they had to be trained. The Arab expected each girl to be wise in all matters sexual, and to be willing to submit to whatever tortures might take his fancy. He was building an English manor home in the Arabian desert, and when it was complete he wished to stock the home and its grounds with young women. Ben made a note to himself to make sure Kate was well made-up before presenting her to the Sultan. He might balk if she looked too young. But he was sure once the Sultan had paid for her heÕd find himself pleased, provided she was trained and completely broken in and didnÕt offer him any resistance. Ben knew he should have found an older female at the nightclub and wondered, in a moment of uncertainty, if he shouldnÕt take Kate back and find someone else. She was too young! his conscience admonished him. The Sultan would be displeased and refuse to buy her, or pay for her and then want his money back when Kate was stripped of her makeup. Yet Ben knew he himself liked the youngest girls best. And Kate had been so daring and sexy. He hadnÕt been able to resist taking her. Now she was staring up at him from the bed, watching him flex his long cane and pass it over his open palm. He knew that because of her wonderful breasts sheÕd be put to work in the SultanÕs barn. The Sultan kept tall leggy models, with their traditionally small chests, for his leisure and entertainment inside his quarters. But with a new manor home, complete with a barn, the Sultan had told Ben that he wanted girls to be cows. He desired big-breasted girls, girls he could have his leggy models sit beside, bare-bottomed on little wooden stools, and pretend to milk. A female like Kate would kneel in the hay, her head caught and locked in a wooden stock, while the leggy model sat beside her and worked her breasts. Kate would cry out as she felt her breasts handled like objects, mere udders whose only duty would be to espress milk. There would be a metal pail beneath KateÕs breasts and when she failed to produce milk she would be punished. Then, the Sultan had assured Ben, he would impregnate her, and nine months later Kate, like all the rest of the girls in the barn, would indeed express milk into the metal buckets, once theyÕd birthed new children for the Sultan. ÒBring me women who are ready for fucking,Ó the Sultan had told Ben, and Ben had agreed. Yet now he had a small delicate girl kneeling before him, with adorable big bosoms but looking like she should be at home doing her homework, under her fatherÕs watchful eye. Ben gritted his teeth and cursed himself for asking Kate to his Penthouse. He felt certain the Sultan would reject her and refuse to do business with him. In frustration Ben vowed to make Kate pay for what sheÕd gotten him into. SheÕd been so flirtingly dressed and so daring and sexy, heÕd fallen for her instead of picking the right female that the Sultan would be sure to take. ÒSheÕll need to be tied,Ó Ben snapped at his slavewoman. As he watched her move quickly, he thanked himself for being wise enough to keep her on his premises. She was in actuality a deeply fiery, tough and disciplined young woman, whoÕd joined the Marines but been discharged by them after they found her too hard to handle. Since then sheÕd settled down a little, enough to hold a steady job, provided it interested her. And she liked helping him run his penthouse. She liked seeing the girls come in all fresh and giddy, and leave all worn out and sleepy and walking with an awkward gait. And she liked seeing the young men, handsome and sure of themselves, full of vigor, only to leave so exhausted they could barely stand, but smiling, and vowing to return again after theyÕd recovered. Ben marvelled at how meek and mild his slavewoman could make herself. She took a pair of handcuffs down from a shelf, choosing fur-lined ones though he knew she longed inside to see Kate bound in raw steel cuffs, without any protection. Quietly his slavewoman, Gilda by name, approached Kate and took her wrists between her fingers, holding KateÕs slender wrists delicately as if they were fine china. Gilda drew KateÕs wrists forward to the bedÕs headboard and wrapped the cuffs around a post in the middle of the headboard. She locked KateÕs hands in the cuffs. She asked Kate to tug on the cuffs to make sure she was unable to escape. Kate gulped and complied, Gilda watched meekly, as if afraid Kate might hurt herself, pulling on the cuffs with her small wrists bound inside them. Gilda wasnÕt really BenÕs slave, of course. He paid her handsomely to perform her duties. When they occasionally had sex, real sex, on their own time, she always insisted on making Ben her slave. She forced him to beg and crawl like a dog and she insisted on putting painful clamps on his nipples. She liked trapping his penis and balls in a latex jock strap that left him no room at all. When he was sweaty with need and couldnÕt stand being penned in anymore, she would cut his dick free with a sharp knife, ruining the latex jock and always running the risk of depriving him of his manhood. Then she would ride him with an awesome power. When she was finished with him he would be so drained that he wouldnÕt even notice that his balls were still trapped inside the jock. TheyÕd be so depleted it was as if they didnÕt exist anymore. As Gilda bent over the bed, working with Kate, her skirt rose up in back, showing Ben the underside of her bottom. She had a perfect ass and it spread its cheeks for him as she bent over the bed. Ben felt a sudden need to spill and he barely restrained his seed. Gilda had no panties on. Her sex was visible to him, between her close-pressed legs, and he longed to thumb open her cheeks and see her hiney-hole. Gilda kissed KateÕs cheek and told her not to worry and then stood upright again. Reaching behind herself, she drew down and straightened her dress. The sight of her restoring herself made Ben want to shoot all over again, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from doing it. ÒHer legs... do her legs also,Ó Ben told Gilda. ÒBut open them first with a spreader bar so I can admire her holes.Ó ÒYes, master,Ó Gilda said quietly. He saw her face, so placid, so obedient, and grinned at her perfect submission. She gave no hint of her true nature. She went to the shelf on the wall and fetched a spreader bar and two ankle cuffs, with chain link leads to secure them to the bedÕs baseboard. Returning to Kate, Gilda forced her knees apart. Ben watched again as GildaÕs skirt scooted up, showing her ass to him. Kate seemed a little resistant at having herself spread so wide and Gilda was forced to slap her bottom to make her comply. The handprint faded quickly. Gilda had not hit her hard. Kate twisted her head round and watched as Gilda wrapped each of her ankles in straps. Then Gilda attached KateÕs ankles to the base of the bed. She put a spreader bar between KateÕs legs to keep her from closing herself. Ben stared at KateÕs marvelous bottom and hoped he could make money off her. He hated training women and housewives. Girls were much more fun, but the Sultan was a picky fat toad and might reject her for being too girlish. Her bottom was obviously tight and Ben knew that would be a problem. He would have to break her in with a series of dildos, until she could accept the really big dildos that the Sultan liked. Again Ben cursed himself for choosing such a small girl. It would take a lot of work to get this slight-bodied little female with her Junior High ass to take what the Sultan expected her to. ÒGive her a drink to make it easier for her,Ó Ben ordered Gilda. He saw Kate blanch but he said nothing to her. He would need to cane her hard, harder even than he wished, to make her ready for the butt-blistering punishments that he knew the Sultan liked doling out to his slaves. In the barn, she would be punished daily for refusing to give milk. Each day a slim-bodied model would sit down beside her and pump her big, full breasts, but the Sultan would be disappointed when he saw no milk come out. Then heÕd beat her. Looking at Kate, Ben knew instinctively that she wouldnÕt be made pregnant right away, after the first failure of her breasts to give milk. At least, if he were the Sultan, he wouldnÕt make her pregnant after just one failed milking. HeÕd punish her bottom for months, at least. Ben felt himself almost on the verge of spending again. His mind was awhirl with how heÕd have to train this small girl and make her ready for the Sultan, and with what the Sultan would do to her once he got her. Would that fat old toad really impregnate this girl upon her arrival? Or would he keep her as a cow-pet, as Ben certainly would, trying her breasts every day to see if they had any milk for him? Ben longed to be the Sultan himself. How splendid it would be to live in a big Victorian mansion, surrounded by trees in the vastness of the Arabian desert where no one could interfere, ever, with his playthings. HeÕd awaken to the soft touches of New York models and sport with his big-busted centerfold girls in the barn, making them behave like cows and never impregnating any of them, for he liked them too much as they were, unmarried girls. But he knew that after no more than a month, at most, the Sultan would force Kate into motherhood and make her pregnant with his Arab seed. She would bear a son for him, or perhaps a daughter, the daughter to be made to conform to Arab purity in a chador while Kate herself, the mother, lay nude in the barn, perhaps pregnant again with another child for her Sultan master. Ben hated himself for selling her but he owed too many people too much money not to. He could wind up dead in an alley somewhere if he didnÕt come up with the needed money soon. A younger man might have played the hero and challenged the odds by saving Kate from her fate. But Ben was just mature enough to value his own skin above that of any nubile college girl, no matter how perfect her bottom and her breasts, and how lovely her face. Gilda asked Kate whether she would prefer a brandy, or gin, or vermooth. There was a tiny bar built in to the shelving that lined the wall. It had no sink but it did have a collection of small bottles and, in a dish covered with cellophane, slices of lemon and lime, mixed with ice to keep them chilled. The bottles sat on a flat plastic slab of Blue Ice, recently taken from the penthouse freezer and still quite cold. ÒThe vermooth, I guess,Ó Kate said in a childish voice. Gilda popped a bottle open and poured it into an empty glass and added a wedge of lime. She presented it to KateÕs lips and, since Kate was cuffed, she slowly poured it into KateÕs mouth for her. All the while Ben eyed KateÕs bottom, which rotated apprehensively in the cool air, above the soft bed where she should have found comfort but was about to find pain instead. Gilda patted KateÕs head when she was finished and asked Ben if she should be gagged. Ben nodded. Working quickly, as if she were bridling a horse or a pony, Gilda fitted a black gag between KateÕs teeth and then secured it behind her neck. Kate looked at herself in a mirror and Ben saw her face pale. Then she blushed a little, as Gilda pushed her head down into the pillow on the bed. Behind her the lovely cheeks of her bottom rose higher as her face was pushed down into the pillow. ÒSheÕs ready, sir,Ó Gilda said to Ben. Kate heard Ben as he strode up behind her. The floor was carpeted but she could hear his shoes on the carpet if she listened closely. He ran out the length of cane and she tensed her bare bottom. He lifted his arm high. She wanted to look up at him but instead she closed her eyes and waited, heinie tensed, for the first blow to fall. SWIIIICK! The cane bounced across KateÕs bottom with a firmness even she hadnÕt expected. It bit her deeply, cutting into both her cheeks right at their apex, where they stuck out furthest. Kate howled at the burning sensation and shook her bottom in the air to cool it. ÒMy, she must want more, look how boldy she offers her seat to you, sir,Ó Gilda said, breaking her meek faceless facade. Ben frowned at her. She should be quiet, he told himself. The last thing he needed was for Gilda to resort to her true self, unpredictable and fiery and unmanageable. Gilda seemed to sense that he wished her to remain compliant and, smiling to herself, she bowed her head and pretended not to look at KateÕs ordeal. WHICCK! Ben hit Kate again and watched as the girl drew in her bottomcheeks, squeezing them protectively together as she offered up a wailing, pitiful screech. He hit her again while she was still squeezing herself, to let her know that nothing could protect her bare fanny from him. Kate was clearly unprepared for such a swift followup blow and she seemed to lose her self-control, bursting into tears as the cane swatted her. He was glad he had gagged her for she was obviously a novice in bottom-discipline. He knew he would have to take her farther, even on this first night, than any of her boyfriends might have, with their playful spanks or their pants belts. Ben slammed another stroke of the cane into KateÕs bottom and watched as a welt developed. She would have to get used to having a welted bottom, he told himself. He would take her just short of bleeding, and then train her to sit on her bottom despite its welts, eating at meals on a big pillow and squirming the whole time because she could get no relief for her seat. Kate cried into her pillow as blow after blow fell on her bottom. It was much more than sheÕd expected. Ben was a true master, flaying her despite her beauty, giving no regard to her screams or her shouts, all of them muffled, of course, by the insidious gag which bound her teeth apart and kept her mouth shut even though it was open. Kate wished she hadnÕt selected Ben to give her the adventure she wished for. He was too rough, too mean, she assured herself, and yet as each blow of the cane fell and she ground her pretty face into her pillow she felt a distinct buzzing between her legs, a natural buzzing, and she wondered why her clitty felt so aroused at having her bottom flayed like this. She longed to touch herself but her hands were securely cuffed to the bedÕs headboard. All below her was softness, the pillow, the sheets, yet her bottom was sore and getting sorer every minute. It burned like the sun and yet Ben gave it new strokes to remember. Slap after slap of the cane sizzled its narrow trail across her heinie. Each left a welt for her to remember it by. Kate sobbed and felt herself utterly helpless, no longer a teasing flirting girl but just a mound of prettily weeping flesh. Sometimes she shouted, like a girl in a girlÕs gym class, but instead of playing soccer or basketball she was playing at a very painful game of love. At last, far beyond what Kate thought she could endure, Ben dropped the cane to the floor. Kate opened her eyes, still squeezing her bottomcheeks frantically, and saw through a tear-filmed mist Gilda taking a large dildo down from a shelf near the bar. Gilda squirted the dildo with baby oil to make it slick and Kate felt a knot in her tummy as she feared the dildo might be used in her ass. ÒItÕs not big enough,Ó Kate heard Ben say to Gilda. The woman, usally meek, looked at Ben with flashing eyes. ÒItÕs the most she can take... for now,Ó Gilda said to Ben. Kate was surprised that Gilda would stand up for her but, when Ben relented, Kate felt even more afraid, for the dildo Gilda had selected still looked larger than anything Kate had ever been forced to accept before. Gilda patted KateÕs head and then moved down to her still-wriggling tail. Kate felt fingertips stroke her cunny and prayed the dildo was meant for her cunt. But then the softly exploring fingertips slipped back between the cheeks of her bottom and pried at her hole. ÒNo!Ó Kate screeched into her gag, but Gilda already had her fingertips in KateÕs anus and Kate found she couldnÕt close herself off to Gilda, no matter how hard she squeezed. Suddenly, giving a cry of alarm, Kate felt a big bulging visitor inquiring within the opened hole of her rectum. It nosed itself inside, splitting her stricken cheeks wide apart. Kate shouted but nobody listened. The visitor bulged more deeply into her and Kate felt as if her ass were going to be plugged up with a giant turd. Deeper and deeper the dildo went. Kate, trying to escape, lifted herself, rising up as high as she could, like a cat showing its fur. ÒDip, dip your back,Ó Gilda said to Kate, and slapped her bottom. Immediately Kate complied for the slap, coming on top of her already wounded bottom, made it ring like a bell with pain. Gilda used the opportunity of KateÕs properly presented heinie to shove the dildo in deeper. When Kate felt herself uncomfortably filled with the dildo, Gilda began drawing it out. But no sooner had Kate begun to breathe a sigh of relief than Gilda rammed it back up her again, making Kate scream. In and out the dildo went now, suprising even Kate that it could move so in her ass, for her bottom was small and tight and Kate had never been violated like this before, she was sure, though she had attempted some rather large things in the past, thanks to Marie. The dildo moved in and out of her like an indecisive turd, not sure whether it wanted to poop out of her, forever changing its mind as it slid back up her, then began drawing down again, only to rise up again within her. Kate felt herself lose all of the little self-control she had left. She sobbed and wept and let Gilda ream her with the dildo, unable to stop it, only able to feel its awful length as it worked her. After Kate had been thoroughly fucked by the dildo Gilda reluctantly drew it out. Ben was unzipping himself and wanted to fuck Kate and could wait no longer. Gilda watched Ben get on the bed and she watched his penis pop from his underpants. She accepted its length in her hands and squeezed him a little to ease some of his tension, for he would be squeezed mightily, she knew, in KateÕs girlish cunt, and she wanted him to last inside her so sheÕd respect him. Gilda squirted some baby oil on BenÕs cock to help him slip within her more readily. Then she drew him close to KateÕs pussy and let him do the rest. With a shout Kate received him. Ben fucked Kate lustily, his cheeks puffing as she resisted him with schoolgirlish misgivings. His hairy belly banged against her raw hurt bottom. At last, unable to endure her tempting clenching cunt any longer, Ben shot his seed deep into her womb. He prayed Kate had taken a Pill for he realized the Sultan wouldnÕt want her if she were pregnant. Lost in misgiving, he felt his seed flood her. He would be found dead in an alley if he couldnÕt sell her because heÕd gotten her pregnant. Ben curseed her beauty and her innocent sensousness. He wished heÕd hit her bottom even harder and promised himself that he would as soon as sheÕd recovered from this night. ----------------------- 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