Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in PRIVATE PLACES Chapter Six The surface of the swimming pool was a sea of wavelets, each competing with the other, each the result of all the adults and children cavorting within its tiled walls. Summer was here, with its deep, lush heat. I lay upon my tummy on a chaise lounge. Wickedly IÕd thrust my wrists through the waistband of my swim panties. Boys, younger than me, would pause a moment in their cavorting, stare with unsure eyes, then resume their playing, a little less innocent, I think, and not a computer in sight. Just their own minds, wired by God, inspired by me with my plump, curvacious 13-year-old bottom, already experienced, tested. It was wet from the pool. I let my thighs lie apart a little to give them a view of myself. My cunny nestled like a small plum twixt my legs, the split visible. I wore a Ôlingerie styleÕ swimsuit, newly in fashion. They looked just the same as an ordinary one, with a simple exception. The protective gusset, the extra layer of padding over the girlÕs sex was missing. There was only a slim continuation of my panties down thru my thighs, front to back, with nothing to save me from the prying stares of men and boys. The sides of my swimsuit were tied up in bows, of course. No elastic for me, please. Tug on my bows in the pool, boys, and IÕll be your victim, naked suddenly, and youÕll be in such trouble! Will your mom paddle you for Ôundoing that girlÕs swimsuitÕ? Ah, but youÕd thought it had some elastic, didnÕt you? That the bows were just decorative, sewn on after the fact. And for the first time in your life, having tugged the bows of other little girlÕs suits, youÕd find that this girlÕs panties could actually be undone! A 3-year-old boy, still confident in his toddlerhood, approached me. He did not suffer under the preteen anxieties of his older brothers. ÒVROOOM!Ó he announced, and ran his dumptruck right up my leg. ÒEeeek!Ó I cried. I turned, my hands were caught in my panties, self-imprisoned. The boy completed his task by backing his dumptruck onto my butt and raising its bed, dumping a clump of mud on my heinie. ÒHo! Ho! It looks like doo-doo!Ó the boysÕ brothers chortled. The 3-year-old erupted in laughter along with them. ÒBoys! Please donÕt bother us, weÕre sunbathing!Ó Jill told them, smiling. She reached down and, with a cocktail napkin, carefully scraped the mud from my ass. ÒHereÕs your load back,Ó Jill told the 3-year-old. ÒPlease deposit it elsewhere.Ó ÒHokay,Ó the 3-year-old replied, reaching out with his infant hands and repossessing the mud. ÒHaw! You just picked up doo-doo!Ó the boyÕs older brothers laughed at him. ÒWah!Ó the 3-year-old, suddenly insulted, invited his motherÕs attention. ÒHoney, whatÕs the matter?Ó mama, diverted from some gossipy conversation in the shallow end of the pool, queried. The boys took off, the brothers jostling their younger sibling and taking him to his mommie. I went back to my snoozing, drying in the sun. ÒInvasion of the proletariat,Ó Jill said to me. She went back to reading her Cosmo. ÒHmmm?Ó I asked, sleepily. I was back in my daydreams again, feeling my back dry under the sun. Sam rose from the pool, sauntered over. He dumped a mouthful of cold pool water onto my fanny, hitting me right where my legs met. ÒAaack!Ó I cried out anew, violated again! ÒHi kids,Ó a womanÕs voice said easily. In looking up I saw a conservative woman, about 30, fully dressed in business attire. She settled into an empty chair beside me. Jill stood up and let Sam sit down in her chair, then settled onto his lap. Slyly she ran a quick finger over his groin. It was one of the best at the pool, filling his briefs to bursting, despite not being aroused. I think it woke up a little when she touched it. Fortunately she was mostly blocking the view of the other bathers, her legs across SamÕs. ÒYou three are such a pair!Ó the woman said. I knew her as Emily. WeÕd lunched with her twice, gone dancing a few times. SheÕd promised to have us over for dinner. ÒReally, IÕve been thinking,Ó Emily said. She owned a business conglomerate, into lots of things, started by her father. He was dead now. She took out a Virginia Slims and poked it into the end of a cigarette holder. She lit it herself, not asking for help. Sam liked to smoke sometimes. He was rummaging in JillÕs purse for a lighter, just to be gentlemanly, but Emily showed no interest in dated chivalry. She was a thoroughly modern woman, controlling her own affairs, opening her own doors, lighting her own cigarettes. I trifling gesture, but it showed she bowed to no man, not even Sam, not even just to let him please her in front of his wife. She could have teased Jill, letting Sam light the cigarette for her, implying a little hint of unfaithfulness. Sam would have fallen for it, of course. He was most gracious, always looking out for his wife, me, other ladies. ÒWhy donÕt you three get married?Ó Emily asked suddenly. Talk about popping the question! I was in love with Sam but, except for our few excursions together, weÕd never shared intimacies in the condo. Somehow it had seemed, perhaps, Ôtoo close to home.Õ Now Emily was suggesting a change to all that. I felt a shiver run up my spine. Surely she was just jesting? We spent a lot of time together, sure, the three of us, but Jill and Sam were already married and wasnÕt bigamy illegal? My bottom quivered. I could still feel, in my mind at least, the whipmasterÕs hand on it in the jungle, weilding his weapon. ÒWeÕre already married, didnÕt you know that?Ó Jill asked Emily. Her eyes danced, as if saying, ÔWhy, what a silly question! CanÕt you see my ring?Õ ÒJust for fun,Ó Emily answered. She looked down at me, back at them. ÒYou do believe in fun, donÕt you?Ó ÒWell, yes, but-Ó Jill began. ÒSam, you wonÕt mind,Ó Emily said. Her eyes darted meaningfully to his trunks. She could see what the others could not. His cockhead was impressing itself most distinctly into the nylon. I hoped the little boys didnÕt come back. ÒIt will be a three-way marriage, all three of you, getting married at once, together, on the same day. IÕll pay for it. It would be a pleasant diversion, I think, and quite proper, since youÕre such friends. And IÕll provide the bridal bed too, and the gowns, and people to be your bridesmaids and bridesgrooms.Ó ÒYou mean, in front of...Ó Jill began, her voice trailing off. I saw her glance around. Was anybody at the pool hearing this? A woman seemed absorbed in the National Enquirer nearby, a man sat intently reading PortnoyÕs Complaint. ÒYes, some of your friends, and some of mine, but people you donÕt know too, making it more fun, IÕm sure. ItÕs settled then. Sam, please restrain yourself! I can see you approve just by the, ah, presence of your ambition,Ó Emily finished, seeing that she might indeed be overheard as the woman with the newspaper looked up, and at us. ÒYou will both have to be measured for it,Ó Emily said to Jill, glancing once at me, as if I were an afterthought. ÒI have no idea that IÕm going to go through with such a thing!Ó Jill whispered loud as she could, but hoping nobody would overhear. Sam looked up at his wife. He put a finger under her chin, making her raise her face. ÒOpen your mouth,Ó he said. She glanced down once at him, refused. ÒOpen your mouth, say ahhh,Ó Sam told her again. Jill parted her lips. ÒWider,Ó Sam ordered her. She opened her mouth more. ÒA nice pair of teeth,Ó he said. ÒAll wives should have good teeth. Hmmm, the tits. Yes, I think I approve of those too.Ó ÒSam!Ó Jill scolded. He hefted one, feeling its weight. She brushed his hand away as the man with the book took an interest in us. He gazed at us, as did the woman. ÒWives must be obedient to their husbands,Ó Sam said. ÒYou agreed to that on our wedding night, and IÕm holding you to it.Ó ÒNow, about the prenuptial period,Ó Emily continued. ÒThere must not be any prior, shall we say, Ôarrangements.Õ I want you all to be on your best behavior between now and your wedding day. IÕll try to schedule it as soon as possible, of course. I understand human nature.Ó She stood up. ÒJill, may I see your hand, please?Ó Jill, a confused look on her face, held out her left hand, just by chance, I think, given what happened next. ÒThankyou,Ó Emily said, and slipped JillÕs wedding band from her third finger. She left her diamond engagement ring behind, letting Jill keep it. ÒYouÕre just engaged now, my dear,Ó Emily smiled. Her eyes turned to Sam. ÒI hope you arenÕt kept up at night thinking about your brides to be,Ó she teased. ÒThen again, given how ÔupÕ you are already, I must say IÕll sleep uneasily tonight, knowing thereÕs such a Ôstand upÕ guy around, lying by himself, stiffly attentive to his impending brideÕs needs. Give me your ring, young man, and do keep to the couch tonight, okay?Ó Reluctantly Sam held out his hand. ÒDonÕt worry, youÕll get it back!Ó Emily laughed, taking his ring. ÒIn fact, I could give you two at your wedding, one for your finger and one for your organ.Ó ÒAll weddings do need an organ,Ó Sam answered, clearly enthralled by this mysterious womanÕs sexual frankness. IÕd pulled my hands from my swimsuit, rolled on my back, and lay retying my loosened bows. She leaned over me, her heavy breasts pendant, held within her blouse and bra yet full of obvious promise. I wanted to reach open and liberate them, just to embarrass her as she was embarrassing us. Instead I lay quietly, feeling imposed upon as they hung over me. Still stooping, Emily put a finger into my navel. She kept her eyes, however, on Sam. ÒShe is liberated?Ó she asked him. ÒVaginally, anally too, she says, though IÕve yet to be given my chance,Ó Sam answered. ÒWhat?!Ó Emily asked. ÒSuch prudes you three are, but itÕll make it all the more exciting!Ó She stroked my belly once, then tugged on the hem of my panties, pulling them up, though they were as far up as they would go, she seemed to be straightening them, as if to ensure my modesty. ÒNo more birth control for either of you,Ó Emily proclaimed, though quietly, standing up straight. ÒI want both you females to be Ôat risk,Õ shall we say, the wedding real, everything real. WeÕll provide you with pills later to undo the damage.Ó The Ôroyal we,Õ I wondered? Was Emily our Father, Son, and Holy Ghost now? Or would there be others, not just onlookers, but Ôcontrollers,Õ as it were. EmilyÕs shadow lay over me, protecting me from the sun. ÒIf worse comes to worse my husband performs abortions, though I shouldnÕt think it will come to that.Ó She turned then, her skirts swishing, twirling under her hips, her dress down to her ankles, yet such thoughts in her mind! ÒSam,Ó Jill whined, as Emily left us, her figure retreating. She had a regal bearing, this woman of commerce. I watched as her ass undulated with practised grace. I knew Sam was watching it too, even as his wife sat complaining in his lap. ÒSam, are you going to make us do such an awful thing?Ó I asked, turning to look at him when Emily had disappeared. ÒWhat, marry me?!Ó Sam asked. ÒYes!Ó Jill said. ÒI donÕt want to marry you, Sam!Ó ÒMe neither,Ó I pouted, but my eyes drank in his huge, hairy chest, naked and still dripping from the pool, even as I claimed to deny him. ÒWhat are you looking at?Ó Jill asked me. ÒMy new husband,Ó I answered. I would not let her have him, no, not unless I could too! ÒLooks like youÕll both just have to marry me!Ó Sam replied. The room was hushed. I entered. I wore a full white wedding gown, a woman holding up my train behind me, walking slowly. She held it too high, I thought, showing my calves, my ankles. People could see my stockings. I held flowers. The group was small. Sam stood at the altar, two candles, a Bible lying open. A nightstand was our alter. A small linen cloth had been placed over it for purity, and to catch the candlesÕ drippings. Emily stood beside the alter. She wore a black dress, low cut, too low for a minister. Yet a white and black ministerÕs collar was snapped around her bare throat. Sam did not seem to mind the ministerÕs decollette dress. It was slit up the sides, though Emily stood still now, stiff and righteous, with a small smile on her lips. Her figure was slim, but for her breasts. She gazed through me, seeing, but not, watching I knew for Jill, who emerged behind me. Together we trailed our dresses up the aisle, me in front, her behind. Our long gowns swished along the floor, except in back, where a woman held up each of our gowns, one bridesmaid apiece for each of us. I felt my gown rising higher and higher as I advanced up the aisle. I hoped she didnÕt lift it too high! I wore no panties. Emily had provided none, declaring them unnecessary. Chairs arranged in neat files stood on either side of me. The congregation sat, perhaps to better see under my dress. I walked nervously. I felt my bottom rolling, and more and more air upon it with every advancing step of my feet. ÒAh, what a bottom!Ó I heard a man ejaculate behind me. A woman sitting beside him murmured her approval. My face grew red. I gulped. Yet I kept walking. There were perhaps two dozen people in the room. It was a large dining room, long and formal, but with the dining table removed, so that we could have our little ceremony. With every step I wished IÕd declined SamÕs engagement more and more. I fingered the ring heÕd given me. It was wonderful, a dream ring, diamond, with a gold band, but I knew whoÕd paid for it. Emily. I stared fixedly at her. She looked beyond me to Jill, savoring the womanÕs apprehension as she felt her dress raised behind her. ÒAh, now thereÕs a true womanÕs ass!Ó I heard a man declare. ÒAnd such pretty legs!Ó his wife added. We were exposed in back, both of us now. Sam stood with a frank erection in his trousers. He wore a tuxedo, but with the sides of the jacket cut artfully away so that nothing would be hidden. I knew half the ladies in the room must be staring at the projection in his starched pants. With a somewhat glum look I took up position beside Sam. Jill, arriving after me, stood on his opposite side. He seemed to mind not the least that his wifeÕs bottom was being shown off to the audience. ÒUnzip the brides, please,Ó Emily said. I felt the woman behind me take hold of the zipper at the back of my dress. Simultaneously Emily reached forward, cupped SamÕs bulge, and unzipped his fly. ÒNooo!Ó Jill cried. Yet she stood stock still as her dress was undone, pulled away, and Emily rummaged in her husbandÕs pants to pull out his cock. A moment later and I stood in just a frilly bra and garters before the alter, with patterned lace stockings running down my legs to my pumps, everything white, pure, yet so utterly sinful! My bridal veil still hid my face, despite my bare heinie. Jill stood similarly revealed on SamÕs other side. I looked down at my muff, saw it reflected in a mirror near the alter. How dare they! All of me could be seen, I realized suddenly. A mirror on the other side of the alter made sure JillÕs pussy was as visible to the congregation as mine. Between us, Emily now drew out SamÕs penis. It dripped with pre-cum. She tutted, displeased to see her hands sullied. Yet she stroked him several times to make sure he was at his full length. Then, not wiping her hands, she turned and picked up the Holy Bible. Ashes to ashes, I guess, and pre-cum to the Maker who created us all. ÒDo you, Sam, promise to take Jill and Fury with all your might?Ó She used my real name, I saw. I liked hearing it. My real name IÕd given myself. IÕd told her that was my name, and sheÕd remembered it. I felt happier. She might look through me when I came up the aisle, yet she did not ignore me entirely. Jill and Sam called me Flurry, but to Emily I was Fury, an independent girl, with my own name, even as she joined me in marriage to Sam and his wife. ÒAnd do you, Fury, promise to have Sam with all your love?Ó Emily asked me, turning to me, meeting my eyes for the first time this evening. ÒI promise,Ó I answered. ÒSay ÔI do,Õ silly!Ó Jill hissed at me, bending forward slightly. When she heard a whistle from the audience she remembered her behind was bare and quickly straightened herself again. ÒI do,Ó I smiled, then looked at Sam, but he stared straight ahead, his eyes in line with his dick. Emily moved to Jill. Inspired suddenly, she reached up and touched the front clasp of JillÕs bra. She released it. JillÕs breasts popped into view, quivering, her bra falling away to hang uselessly under her arms. Emily touched a finger to each of JillÕs nipples. They responded, rising quickly. I think her shyness had kept them from standing up sooner. There were so many people behind us, we felt so vulnerable, much worse than at Ms LaliqueÕs dinner party. ÒAnd do you, my darling Jill, take this handsome man to be your husband?Ó ÒI do,Ó Jill whispered. Emily bent, caught one of JillÕs nipples between her teeth. ÒI do!Ó Jill exclaimed, afraid, unsure. ÒThatÕs better,Ó Emily answered, and lifted her head. ÒMay I kiss the bride?Ó she asked Sam. ÒSure,Ó Sam answered, surprised, but not displeased. Emily dropped the Bible to the floor and grabbed Jill round her neck, embraced her, kissed her hard. ÒOhhh!Ó Jill responded, trying to back away, failing. I saw her hands flutter, rise. Her bouquet of flowers fell to the floor. Jill probed her mouth with her tongue. For the first time I saw Emily had a riding crop stuck through the sash of her dress. It was black, matching her dress and sash. Sam saw it then too. His eyes widened. Ours was a most unconventional minister! Jill pulled her mouth from EmilyÕs. The woman held her by the neck still, close-pressed to her own body. Emily could not escape. Jill regarded her, tucked up her bridal veil so that it would no longer hide her face. ÒGo to the altar, bend over it. There is a cushion there for your tummy,Ó Emily told Jill. I looked, saw the Bible had indeed been resting on a small red velvet cushion on our nightstand altar. Now the holy book was on the floor, forgotten. But the cushion remained, properly placed, waiting to receive a soft female tummy over it. ÒAnd if I refuse?Ó Jill asked. She seemed not to want to participate. Emily drew out her riding crop. Jill gave an audible gasp. ÒTo the altar!Ó Emily said, and pointed with her crop. Jill glanced once at Sam. He smiled back, pleased at the show, not the least minded that his wife should be made to display her sex in public. Jill walked forward, mincing steps. Emily whacked her bare fundament and she shreiked, hurried the last steps, bent over the altar quite sheepishly. ÒPart your legs. Let us see your brideÕs cunny. Has it been deflowered?Ó ÒWhat?Ó Jill asked. She was blushing most visibly. Somehow she managed to find the courage to open her legs, but was rewarded with a quick jab of EmilyÕs crop right in her fig. ÒHas anything been up here yet?Ó Emily asked. ÒWhy, yes it has, and you know it!Ó Jill answered. She seemed on the verge of tears. I stood, my veil still hiding my eyes, but my bottom jiggled nervously behind me as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. ÒAnd here?Ó Emily asked in a commanding tone, intruding the tip of her crop into the inswirl of JillÕs anus. Jill shrieked again. Then, settling down, still hunched over the alter, she answered, ÒYes, IÕm Ôanally liberated, if thatÕs what you mean.Ó ÒGood. Come right out and tell us. DonÕt make a mystery of it. Precious little remains mysterious about you anyway, my dear. Such a proud bottom!Ó Emily remarked. Jill did indeed have a royal fundament, with queen bee cheeks, well-fatted, yet her legs we breathtakingly slim, as was her midsection and arms. Her large bosoms impressed themselves into the linen altar cloth. WHACK! Emily struck JillÕs bottom hard with her crop. Immediately a slim red mark appeared, puffing just a bit, showing where sheÕd been hit. ÒOwwww!Ó Jill shouted. Her hands flew behind her. Tenderly she touched the spot where her skin had been marred by the crop. Yet she somehow remained bent over, fearing, perhaps, that to rise would earn her a second assault. ÒI am jealous, my dear, as most women in this room probably are,Ó Emily answered. Openly she admired JillÕs well-displayed peach, though, in truth, I thought she bore an equally proud pumpkin herself, be that it remained under her dress. Emily glanced at me. She smiled. She walked behind the altar, and returned with a small stool, covered in red velvet. She placed it down between JillÕs parted ankles. Jill touched herself still, examining the puffy welt across her bottom with delicate fingers. Sam seemed to guess what Emily wanted and reached down and unclasped my bra. My boobies sprang out, loose at last, my nipples fiercely hard, despite my anxiety. ÒGet up on the stool, get on top of my wife,Ó Sam told me, his voice trembling. ÒYes, it will be a double fuck, though I wish it for display purposes only, Sam,Ó Emily pronounced. ÒWe want to enjoy your erection all evening long. A few shafts, nothing more, in each of them. Up, girl! Onto the altar!Ó I scurried to comply. I did not want to feel that awful crop of hers zinging down on my bottom. I put my foot on the stool, awkwardly kneed my way onto the counter. All the while I was aware of the congregation behind me, watching, seeing me display my sex so rudely as I scrambled to mount Jill. ÒOh, no,Ó Jill protested. I settled on her, bearing her down. I straddled her, opening myself up in a wider vee than even she was in. I bent forward, pressed my breasts into her back. I felt so exposed! The insides of my thighs pressed against the outside of hers. Sam stared, delighted at seeing my heinie, so long denied to him, now a wide-open target for his cock, not to mention my sex, which clenched in virgin purity, atop JillÕs tush. ÒHereÕs one for the road,Ó Emily said, drawing up her arm and then delivering a sharp WHACK! to my bare buns. ÒYEEEEOOOCH!Ó I yelped. I squirmed atop Jill as she rocked under the blow which had struck my peach. My palms flew back and cupped my childish bottom. I felt a bright heat across it, and knew at once I bore a welt as long and perfect as JillÕs. ÒYouÕre injuring my brides,Ó Sam protested, though I detected a humorous note in his voice. ÒIÕm breaking them in,Ó Emily answered. ÒPlease drop your pants. I want to see your hind cheeks flex as you get yourself inside your new wives.Ó ÒCan I keep my coat on?Ó Sam asked. I sensed a slight nervousness in his voice now. ÒNo. Take it off. Everything but your bow tie. And your boots, of course. Such fine riding boots, I understand, if youÕre wearing what I ordered for you,Ó Emily said. ÒBut unzip me first. I do not wish to be too prudish at your wedding, even if I am your minister.Ó She turned to him, presented her back. Sam paused, admired her, touched her shoulder, even as Jill and I rubbed our heinies with frank movements of our hands. I heard a rustling of clothing in the congregation. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw cocks suddenly spring into view, thick and hard as SamÕs, all veiny and pulsing with manly desire. I wanted to spring up, was afraid to. Sam embraced Emily from behind. They kissed. He massaged her breasts and gound his pelvis into her bottom. His cock was naked against her expensive dress, staining it, no doubt, with his early cum drips. A few minutes passed and all were naked behind us, or as naked as they wished to be for fucking. Sam approached. I tensed. He patted my bottom. He arched himself, stuck his prong to my butthole. ÒSam! Please!Ó I cried. I did not want it there. ÒShush, girl!Ó Emily answered me. She whacked the drum tight skin of my bottom, making me hollar, even as Sam pushed his drippy cockhead against my hole. I felt a deep, strong pressure, I fought it. It pushed at my little hole, indriving. ÒDo let him take you,Ó Jill whispered beneath me, being pressed down as I tried to keep Sam from intruding into my butthole. ÒNo!Ó I gasped. His cum-smeared head pushed inside, his peehole entering my a-hole. And then more, and yet more, filling my little peephole anus with his ever-widening flange, his cockhead, surging, indriving, and then I was popped! ÒAughghg!Ó I cried. Emily stuck her crop into my open mouth, length-wise, and made me bite down upon it. I was bitted. Now I would be saddled. Hopefully I would not be ridden. Sam pushed harder. I felt myself giving way. In he went, then more. I could not stop him! ÒNooo, youÕre going too far up!Ó I cried. Emily took both ends of her crop in her hands and drove it deeper into my mouth, forcing my head up. I felt like my whole body was being pushed backward by her even as Sam fucked his way up my hole. I heard laughter. Bridesmaids were helping Sam, putting vaseline on his dick even as he poked it further and further into my near-virgin hole. ÒMore,Ó they urged him. ÒShe can take more.Ó They wanted to see, thatÕs all. They wanted to see his big long cock go somehow all the way up me, whatever the cost to me, whatever the price. ÒNow in and out, a few easy strokes,Ó Emily called from where she stood at my head. ÒHeÕs not all the way up yet,Ó one of the bridesmaids replied. ÒHe has three inches to go at least!Ó ÒHe is too long for her,Ó Emily replied. ÒSam, contain yourself. I know sheÕs quite tight, but have sympathy for her in your strokes, and please donÕt shoot your sperm up her butthole. I donÕt want her enemized, just fucked a little, for pleasureÕs sake, though I daresay you look like youÕre suffering now.Ó ÒI am!Ó Sam grunted behind me. ÒSheÕs wonderfully tight. I can barely feel myself, sheÕs bearing down so hard.Ó ÒMy, what a filly you are,Ó Emily cooed to me, even as she bore me backward. ÒI should love to keep you for myself and train you. I have dildos that would kill you, they are so big. But we could start small. You would need to be stretched and widened if you werenÕt so young. It is much too hard for him, I can see. As it is you must be permitted to grow more, first. But Jill, how are you, sweetie?Ó Emily gazed down beneath my own agonized face. ÒDo you need to be widened in back, made more accessible for your husbandÕs pleasure? We shall have to see, wonÕt we?Ó Manfully Sam rodded me, each indriving, hard-fought stroke bringing a croak from him, as if he were sodomizing a newborn with his pecker, or some female equally small in back. Tears welled in my eyes. I could not stand it, yet I could not rise. The bridesmaids pressed down on my hips, watching them squirm, laughing. He relented at last. A goblet of wine was brought. His member was carefully bathed in it by the bridesmaids. I lay sobbing atop Jill, too violated to get up. ÒGood girl, good girl,Ó Emily told me. She bent and kissed my face, stroked my hair. ÒWhich hole do you choose this time, sir?Ó I heard behind me. Merrily the bridesmaids presented Sam with his options. They fingered my nest, then JillÕs, and her little hole too, lest he wish to torture himself some more inside her own tight-clenching back tube. ÒGod, I just want to ram myself in and shoot!Ó Sam said. I guessed he was fondling his wifeÕs nest as she whimpered beneath me. ÒBe a good boy and just give her a few little jabs,Ó Emily told Sam. ÒOr, rather, a few big jabs, long and deep, but control yourself so you donÕt sperm her too quickly. I wish for her to be impregnated on the bed.Ó ÒAnd we must have our reception first too,Ó a bridesmaid piped up. ÒIÕm hungry! And they have yet to cut their cake.Ó Her mate agreed that we must all eat before Sam could cum. ÒAhhh,Ó I heard from behind. I knew it could only mean Sam was pushing into his wife, into her nest, his belovedÕs entrance to her deep-hidden womb, where one day she would conceive children for him. And then I remembered our pills. WeÕd been skipping them for three days now. If he loosed his load, she would be impreganted now, right here on the altar, before the reception even. Jill jerked beneath me. ÒDo me, please, Sammy,Ó she begged. ÒForget this bitch Emily!Ó ÒWhat?!Ó Emily laughed. ÒSuch insolence, and at such a pretty wedding!Ó Indeed, the room was decorated with flowers. Their aroma was sweet. A chadedlier glowed down upon our naked bodies. The linen cloth beneath us, draping the altar, smelled of starch, though it was soft to the touch. ÒAh! Yes!Ó Jill cried. She did not feel so embarrassed now. She let her pleasure show itself. ÒFuck her!Ó A bridesmaid urged. She slapped SamÕs muffin-like buns. ÒOW!Ó Sam answered. The bridesmaidÕs companion inquired between his asscheeks. ÒHey! DonÕt sodomize me!Ó Sam called out. ÒWhatÕs good for the goose is most definitely good for the gander!Ó the bridesmaid chuckled. She found what she was looking for and poked him with her fingernail. ÒAh, god!Ó Sam groaned. He shafted his wife quickly. Then he withdrew, and batted away the bridesmaidÕs hand from his rear. ÒYou need to go back to school and learn ÔGood Touch, Bad Touch,Õ he told her.Ó ÒIt doesnÕt apply to girls, silly,Ó the bridesmaid answered, quite seriously. ÒMay I please get up now?Ó Jill begged Emily. ÒOnly if you promise to eat all your cake!Ó Emily laughed. Sam lifted me bodily from his wife. I kicked my legs, infant-like, as if I were just being delivered, and indeed I was, I thought, feeling the hot stripes of EmilyÕs crop on my bottom and the newfound openness of my bunghole. My heels were returned to the floor and I stood unsteadily. They were spiked, platform heels, hardly a sure footing for a girl whoÕd just been buttfucked! Sam held me lightly Ôtil IÕd regained my balance. Jill pushed herself up from the altar, the bridesmaids helping, lifting her shoulders, straightening her back. They patted her bottom affectionately. Jill moaned as their palms touched her single, blazing welt. I had two. For extra naughtiness, I guess. ÒCome, sweet brides,Ó Emily beckoned. We dared not disobey her. With a most embarrassing, awkward gait, clutching our wounded heinies, we followed. Sam came along, his cock stiffly standing up as he walked behind us. It was wet with his wifeÕs juices. The bridesmaids escorted him. They watched his schlong as it bobbed up and down with great promise. His balls hung taut below, a caress away from spilling their seed. They dared not touch it. Only their eyes grazed it, hungrily, wishing they could be his wives too. Perhaps, before the night was out, all of us would be husbands and wives, each to the other, I thought, and the moistness of my bottomhole made me wonder if I could handle so many suitors. I guessed not, hoped such a result would not come to pass. Mine was the only 13-year-old hole here, but there were many others, within fine female bottoms. I glanced about. Everyone was nude now, proceeding with unlikely grace and dignity after us, into the reception room. I spotted many cocks, all of them hard. They were borne by young men who IÕd have died for hours earlier. But now, having barely managed SamÕs penis, how could I possibly entertain more? IÕd eat all my cake, and theirs too, if it would spare me any more cocks up my ass! As I walked I felt their eyes on my bottom, once IÕd turned away. They were discreet at least, in their looking. ÔBut please, please, donÕt put those enormous cocks of yours into my little ass,Õ I begged the men behind me, whispering to myself. I would get down on my knees and kiss their feet if I had to. My bottom was too small, too childish still, I knew, just feeling its countours. I let my hands roam over it a little, examining it. I could feel it wiggling, knew what an invitation it must be offering to the men behind me. I strove to keep it as still as possible as I walked. I was hopeless. It stung too much from the crop, and from being drilled by SamÕs cock. If only I had my one-piece. IÕd shimmy into that in a minute! My mom had been right. I was too young! A room opened before me. It took my breath away as I found myself confronted by it. White ribbons hung from the ceiling. Amidst a spread of food, just being laid out by maids, stood a triple-layered wedding cake, with a little statue atop it. I walked closer to the cake. The maids flitted about, dressed only in heels and bikini panties, swimsuit panties, tied neatly with drawstring bows. ÒThe maids are only here for the reception, and are not available sexually, without their permission,Ó Emily announced to us. ÒMen, I expect you to admire them from a distance. We girls donÕt need any more competition than we already have!Ó There was laughter. The maids blushed, kept their eyes lowered, so as not to directly observe our nudity. I went up to the cake and stared at it. It was beautiful! Thick icing lathered its sides, with pink candy flowers embedded in it. But the most surprising thing was the statue on top. A little groom, with two brides. Sam came up behind me and cupped my bottom. His thumbs grazed my welt. ÒSam, donÕt!Ó I said, and turned slightly, to brush him away. ÒItÕs your reception,Ó he answered. He lifted my hand and slipped a wedding band onto my third finger before I could even realize what he was doing. When I did, I spun about and embraced him. ÒOh, Sam!Ó I cried. We kissed, and I felt Jill come up beside us and share our kiss. We each probed each otherÕs mouths, standing there, kissing slowly and lightly at first, just on the lips, then much more deeply. Our hands traveled freely over each otherÕs bodies, touching whatever we wished, exploring. Sam was careful not to touch the welts on my bottom, or on JillÕs. We parted at last. I found the crowd was gathered all around us. They clapped. Emily beamed at us, then glanced down to make sure Sam hadnÕt become too excited and lost himself. He handnÕt. ÒNow for a quick bite to eat!Ó Jill said. ÒThen itÕs off to bed for you three.Ó Taking Sam carefully by his cock, she led him over to the seat of honor. Jill and I walked in lock-step with him, beaming up at him, our boobies bobbing nakedly as we walked, our asses wiggling easily now, carefree. We were uptight no longer. I saw there was only one chair at the head of the table. I wondered a moment where Jill and I would sit, was about to break away to find a chair of my own when Emily told me to sit on SamÕs knee. Of course. Sam sat down, his cock sticking up with delightful rudeness between his legs. Then Jill sat on his one leg, and I on the other. The guests took their seats. The maids cut a big slice of cake for Sam. They brought it too him, waggling their hips too salaciously, I thought, being his jealous new bride. They laid the cake in front of him. Sam picked it up, whole. He made me take a bite of it. Then Jill, finally himself. We chewed, looking at each other. Jill wiped a crumb from my lips. I brushed a crumb from the corner of SamÕs mouth. I saw a crumb on JillÕs breast and brushed it away. She giggled despite her mouthful of cake. We sat on SamÕs lap wearing just our stockings and spiked heels. I knew Sam loved the feel of our soft, bare bottoms on his thighs, up close to his groin, his huge pecker sticking up between us. We vyed with each other a little, Jill and I, touching his pee hole and wiping icing and crumbs from our fingers onto his cock. ÒWhat a nice napkin-pole,Ó Jill exclaimed. ÒI think IÕll call that ÔInventorÕs HotlineÕ and tell them all about it!Ó I laughed. IÕd seen the commercial too. ÒYouÕd have the man on the other end using his own pole for a napkin, a making an even bigger mess before you were through,Ó I said. I could see even now the man in his neat sweater, everything so perfect in his little workshop, his nails trimmed, his moustache combed, his bald head gleaming with his thoughts of glory at inventing the electric screwdriver, or some such nonsense. And then Jill would call, and heÕd have to sneak past his wife in the living room a few minutes later to go upstairs and clean out his underpants and change his trousers. ÔDid you hurt yourself, dear?Õ his wife would call out. ÔUh, no dear!Õ heÕd hastily reply, too hastily for her tastes, and heÕd turn on the tap upstairs to keep her from hearing toilet paper being quickly run out from the roll. MusnÕt let the wife know heÕd shot off in his pants, must he? Sure, when they were first married, he might get so excited from just the thought of doing her that he might have a little accident. But now, in the fulness of their marriage, such indecent arousals were unthinkable. If she discovered his accident sheÕd go looking for his Playboys in the morning, out in his workshop, and throw them away. Careful, so careful he must be in his later years of life. What had happened to turn his lovely bride into an old maid, and himself, the groom, into a too-neatly tailored husband? And then there was the girl next door, in her tight jeans, worn in back from too much sitting on the sidewalk, growing taller every year, and more bosomy. Such frustrations in tranquil suburbia! Sometimes, IÕm sure, he longed to play Unabomber and bomb everyone back to the stone age, where fertility rituals were held every spring, and winters were spent in a cave passing the long nights in group sex. Yes, heÕd be stong and muscled then, even at this advanced age, not plump. HeÕd hunt mastodons all day with the men, and at night theyÕd have some sport with the women and girls, whoÕd collected berries for their pleasure while they were gone. No Oprah, that would be the best part of it. The men would rule, the females would obey, and theyÕd eat fresh meat every night, and ripe fruits, and watch the stars come out. But for Sam, at least, he was enjoying the benefits of nylon. I lifted my feet and placed my spiked heels on his opposite thigh, careful not to poke Jill. Bending forward, letting him enjoy the pendancy of my dangling breasts, I undid the elaborate straps that kept my heels bound to my ankles. When my feet were free I churlishly rubbed my stockinged toes all over SamÕs dick. ÒYouÕre so drippy, sir!Ó I said cheerfully to him. ÒCanÕt you keep all that pre-cum properly bottled up in your balls?Ó ÒNo,Ó he groaned. Ah, to see such a huge, muscular man put into agony by my little feet! He was desperate to cum, but we were just as eager to see him hold back so we could tease him even more. ÒPlease, Flurry,Ó Jill said at last. ÒDonÕt torture my husband! HeÕs only human, you know. LetÕs allow him to rest a little, and regain control of himself.Ó I put my feet down. I kicked them aimlessly back and forth between SamÕs open legs as we ate our cake, feeding each other, Jill and me mostly, Sam just happily watching, trembling as he strove to lay claim again to his trembling member, lest its seed burst forth and spoil our fun. I studied his balls, all full and bulgingly spread upon the satin seat of the chair. How strange he must have felt, with his bare buttocks on rich, pure, womanly satin. Boys were always trained to Ôtough it out,Õ sitting on rocks, or wooden benches, or those awful bicycle seats that smashed their balls. Yet now Sam could feel the luxury of satin beneath his fundament, his balls resting gently, if desperately, upon the silky material. Yes, his testicles still would have preferred some sort of depression in the seat to fit themselves into, instead of having their fullness scrunched up, but it was SamÕs own fault, mostly. He simply was carrying around too much sperm at the moment. His balls would rest much more easily on the seat once they were empty. He was literally Ôfull of himself,Õ and I so wished to see him shoot, as I know he did too, yet we both hoped to see him delay it as long as possible too. How strange sex is! Wanting both to cum and not to cum, lingering on the treacherous precipice. As for myself, my clitty buzzed with excitement, yet I discreetly avoided rubbing it. Jill too, I could see, with her nipples as stiff as mine, wished to cum, yet we all waited, trying hard not to breach the protocols and decorum of EmilyÕs wedding party. Even though we were, in fact, the guests of honor! Jill and I had shed our bras walking into the room. The bridesmaids, I guessed, had picked them up as momentos of our ceremony, to be kept and displayed, perhaps, at home. ÔThese are from a mock wedding I attended, where a man married TWO females!Õ theyÕd boast. What a pleasant way to introduce a group of guests to the topic of sex. Show them your little souveniers of life, snapshots of the grand canyon, a vase from Paris, and a frilly wedding bra from a naughty ceremony youÕd been persuaded to attend. Perhaps the bridesmaids hoped to be married next. I glanced about. Everyone was seated now, enjoying their cake. No doubt someone else would be happily married next week. Would we be back, to observe it? I didnÕt know. Sam was in charge. Right now he could barely control his own penis, but he was master of Jill and I. She was still opposed to the whole thing, though obviously enjoying herself at the moment. But when sheÕd married Sam for real sheÕd promised to obey him in all things, and those tables had not yet been turned. Perhaps in a few more years, but not yet. She was still the obedient young bride, and he her demanding (yes, demanding!) husband. I felt the hair of SamÕs thigh pricking me in my bottomhole. Jill squirmed on her husbandÕs leg, loving the rough feel of his raw flesh. No satin seats for us, alas! I wouldnÕt have minded a chair of my own, rather than being perched awkwardly atop SamÕs thigh. I guessed it was better than sitting in the center of his lap, though, with that cock of his making Ôsit on itÕ rise to a whole new level of discomfort. I longed to simply lie back on the table, perhaps, in front of him, and let him take me. With both Jill and I competing for him, though, and Emily arranging all to her tastes, it was unlikely IÕd get my wish soon. I looked at the twin rows of bare bosoms lining the table. With most, you could see the whiteness where their bikinis usually protected their mammaries from the sun. A few girls preferred an all-over tan. And then there were the handsome men, with their deeply tanned, hairy chests, where a girl might rest her head all evening, spilling out her sins and stories, while having her bottom caressed and toying with his member. Emily came up to our chair. SheÕd shed her clothes and I looked in awe at her. She was tall and slim and her breasts seemed as imposing as ever. A juggler would have longed to handle such sumptuous boobs, perhaps cut them off and toss them before a cheering audience. A friend of mine worked for a day in a hospital, where all the removed body parts were sent. SheÕd said she saw a womanÕs breast, just that, not the woman herself. It was brought in from surgery, laid down amongst the other items. It had horrified her to look at it, all wobbly and free of its owner. Yet sheÕd stared, and felt her own growing breasts with her hands as she stared at this mature one. Just one, too, where was the other? The hospital had been horrified to find her in the body parts lab. TheyÕd intended to send her to pediatrics, to read stories to the sick children. But, I think, despite the shock of it, she did better going to the body parts lab, seeing what might happen to her when she was older, with breast cancer and all. I gazed at Emily. I picked up a knife from the table, one with a rounded end, and aimlessly traced it round my own nipple as I stared at hers, long and large, hard and coral-like. My eyes fell to her waist where her swimsuit usually was. There was nothing there now, just her bush, freely displayed, its curls neatly trimmed, her cuntlips just showing, and the band of white flesh where her panties ought to be, but werenÕt. Emily stood opposite me. Jill, sensing her presence, turned and looked over her shoulder at her. ÒItÕs time for bed,Ó Emily said simply. She rested a hand on JillÕs shoulder. Jill made to rise. ÒNo, the bed will be brought out, and something else also,Ó Emily said. ÒWhat, you mean here?Ó Jill asked. Her bare breasts trembled visibly, as if from surprise, and I guessed she was taken aback a little, at the implication of EmilyÕs remark. ÒYes, you will enjoy your bridal night right here in the reception room,Ó Emily continued. She played her fingers through JillÕs hair. Jill was blonde, did Emily envy her? Blondes have more fun, or so itÕs said. Emily turned, called to one of the maids. ÒBring out the bed!Ó she ordered. A hush descended over the guests. They ceased playing with one anotherÕs privates and feeding each other cake. A moment later a sumptuous four-poster bed, high so everyone might see what happened upon it, was rolled out by the maids. They retained their bikini panties, the drawstrings with their pretty bows dangling like fringe as they pushed the bed. They were the most modest amongst us, though theyÕd have been arrested in public. Their youthful bosoms hung like ripe fruit on swaying branches, caught in a storm. The bed was big and heavy and they had to exert themselves to get it out into the middle of the room, pushing it from some storeroom where it had been sheeted up and prepared. The coverlet was turned back already. It was quilted, with little embroidered tufts, as if a great aunt had sewn it herself just for our wedding night. The pillows were plumped and fluffed, ready to receive our heads, or whatever part of ourselves might be placed over them. The sheets were clean and crisp and new. Carefully laid upon the bed were several condoms for SamÕs penis, and lubricant for me and Jill. It promised to be a long night, and I guessed Sam would find the energy to work Jill and I until the dawn upon that big, dauntingly high bed, where everyone could watch and judge our performance. ÒReally! I cannot!Ó Jill protested, seeing the bed. She seemed shocked that we should not be able to enjoy our night together in private. Being mounted at the alter seemed okay to her, a simple ritual, she not even facing her husband when it happened, being taken as an animal might be. But to be seen all night long, sharing intimacies with her husband, made her blanch. I confess I too did not want to be watched, if I could help it. IÕd longed to make love to Sam, and been frustrated in my desires. Now I wanted to share myself with him, with just Jill there to guide us. I did not need two dozen merrimakers looking on! Not to mention the maids, who still kept their panties, as if specially holy, above us all, forbidden even to consort with us, unless they themselves approved! Yet they would watch too, I imagined. I could not see Emily dismissing them. They provided too much delight for the men, prancing about, and were eminently helpful too, getting whatever the guests asked, taking it away when finished. They wiped their brows from pushing the bed out and began clearing the table. Emily stopped them. ÒBring out the bench also,Ó she told them. They left the room again, and the next item they pushed out in front of us was a low bench, made of wood, with a hump in the middle of it. The maids locked the wheels of the bench when theyÕd put it before us. I felt uncomfortable. Like the bed, the bench was only a few feet from Sam and Jill and I. ÒStand up, Jill!Ó Emily told my best friend. The blonde rose reluctantly. She kissed Sam goodbye and walked over to the display of bench and bed. I think she thought she was to be installed upon the bed, but instead Emily guided her to the bench. ÒYou must be whipped first, my dear,Ó Emily said. She put a hand to JillÕs bottom and traced the lone welt across it with her finger. Emily seemed docile. Was she too aroused to protest? Had there been something in our cake, or in the bubble champagne weÕd sipped with it? I felt myself a little heady, as if I might be put over the bench too and not wimper about it too much. It was covered with velvet, but the fabric was worn down, as if many females had been placed over this bench, and had done to them what Emily now proposed doing to Jill. My blonde bridesmate touched a finger to the velvet. ÒItÕs so old,Ó she said. Her voice was soft and reverent. ÒYes, itÕs from the nineteenth century,Ó Emily whispered. ÒWe use it here on wedding nights. To teach the bride she must submit to her husband. Men of old used to put their wives first over this, in the bridal chamber, to teach them obedience before giving them their reward in bed. I know your own marriage would not be complete without this ceremony. It requires only your husbandÕs approval for you to submit to it. You have no choice, my dear. You are married.Ó Emily looked toward Sam. He had scooted me from his leg, forgetting me almost, and turned his chair so that he could face the whipping bench. I stood between SamÕs legs, fingering my bottom as I watched JillÕs own heinie being stroked by EmilyÕs soft hands. Sam was beyond hope. I donÕt know if he would have allowed his wife to be so distressingly presented and whipped in front of strangers if he was in his right mind, but he wasnÕt. His cock stuck up all red and sore like a post, longing to spurt out its seed. His balls churned, scruched under his huge dick, with the chair pressing up against them, and his thighs squeezing his nuts tightly, despite the fact that his legs were open enough for me to actually stand between them. ÒYes,Ó Sam said, his voice strangely high-pitched, like a choir boy about to be castrated by a wayward monk. His throat was constricted. His adams apple worked in it as he tried to swallow, found the passageway to dry for him to manage it. His throat was bone dry, but his penis was iced with trickling precum. ÒNo, Sam!Ó Jill cried. Her eyes seemed frightened as she realized she would indeed be put over the bench, that it wasnÕt just a teasing game, and Sam wouldnÕt save her. ÒPlease, Sam!Ó I begged, turning to him, clutching my bottom, feeling my boobies tremble nervously on my chest. I would be next. There was no question of that. ÒMark her,Ó Sam said simply. Jill shuddered, hearing the words. The tips of her breasts quavered. Emily passed her hand over them, hoping to still them. She patted JillÕs well-fatted bottom. ÒYou heard your husband,Ó Emily said to Jill. ÒGet on the bench. Be good and do it now or it will be worse for you. We have even lathered girls with cream in the past, and let them run around the room and try not to get caught. But they always do, you know. And then they find themselves over the bench, their eyes wide and their bottom stuck up high, ready for the whip. Fury we might chase, sheÕs so young. But you, my dear, are a properly married woman, fully grown and mature. DonÕt demean yourself by insisting on racing about the room like a wet child. Get down on the bench, and be graceful about it. Show your husband you know how to obey him, no matter how much it might hurt you. One day he will want you with child, and you will have to endure morning sickness then, and the pain of delivery. What will he think of your ability in doing that if you canÕt even stand a little disciplinary spanking? Get right down on that bench! You are a young whore, all wives are, and you need to be whipped to keep you in line! Show the other women here that you can take it, that you know how to obey. Set an example in obedience for them to follow.Ó ÒWho-who will whip me?Ó Jill asked. Her voice was tremulous. Her body shivered as she contemplated the bench, Emily caressing her seat all the while, to comfort her a little, and explore the contours that she soon would thrash. ÒI will at first,Ó Emily replied. ÒTo warm you up a bit and make you more compliant and receptive. Then, when it is time for the really hard strokes, Sam will take over, and whip you hard as he likes, or not. It is each husbandÕs choice. My job is simply to get you ready.Ó She pushed lightly on JillÕs back, urging her down. Awkwardly Jill lifted her leg and straddled the humped bench. I saw her eyes observing the freshly oiled straps. Nervous as a new filly at the rodeo, she settled onto the worn fabric that covered the top of the bench, feeling her pubis come into contact with the hard hump, letting the air caress her in her bottomcrack as her mature fanny spread open behind her. She held her hands under her chest but Emily drew them out now, and pulled them gently down to the legs of the bench, where she quickly buckled them into place, before Jill could change her mind. Then she moved to the girlÕs legs and secured each of her ankles to a leg of the bench, one on each side, leaving poor Jill spread like a Thanksgiving turkey about to be stuffed. Emily patted her bottom. ÒImagine the men at work seeing you like this, Jill!Ó she teased the woman. ÒYouÕll cry and sweat and burp and probably even fart, too, as I apply the whip to you. Think of how silly youÕll look in your agony, weeping and begging, and how stupid it was for you to walk down the aisle of the church, all dignified, as if the work of the wedding night would never arrive! Your guests will see you beaten, and then fucked, and what a mess youÕll be by morning! All for your husbandÕs pleasure, of course, seeing you broken in for your lifetime of wifely duties. How Sam must wish heÕd done this to you right off the bat, when you were first married. Yes, it takes someone like me, Emily, to train husbands on how to properly handle and deal with their wives.Ó She ran her finger along JillÕs exposed cunt and on to the dimple of her asshole. ÒPlease donÕt pee while youÕre over the bench,Ó Emily said. ÒIÕll make you clean up after yourself if you do. Do you have to poop?Ó ÒNo,Ó Jill said, staring straight ahead. ÒGood,Ó Emily replied. She beckoned one of the maids. The girl hurriedly ran up to her, knowing she must not show the slightest hesitancy in obeying her mistress. Either that, or she was just playing, to show her complete subserviance, in case some other woman might wish to hire her for the evening, and have her perform duties at her behest. I imagined the girls were well paid, and even contemplated, momentarily, seeking some similar employment. How fun it must be to run about all night in just bikini panties, teasing men, and not letting them touch! I remembered my schoolgirl days, walking home from school, learning to wiggle while I walked, like a woman does. Cars would slow, IÕd see a man staring, IÕd give him a pouty sulk and glare, and pretend to memorize his license plate as he drove away. Some men even had little hearts on their license plates, to protect the children! No doubt their wives ordered the plates, paying the money into the state fund, perhaps with their husbandÕs full approval. And then heÕd be driving home, certain of his beliefs, swearing as he listened to news stories about molesters on the radio. And, just as suddenly as Saul on the road to Damascus, heaven would open, and heÕd see my jiggling little bottom, and the world would never be quite the same for him, ever again. ÒDonÕt touch, donÕt touch, donÕt touch, what? THAT! The girl in the squeezingly tight jeans, or the too-short shorts, skipping home from school, all innocent and virginal, but with a copy of Seventeen stuffed in her binder. Hello Kitty emblazoned on the outside of her binder, and Seventeen inside, or Cosmopolitan even, telling her how to date boys or have better sex with men. Yes, donÕt touch my wiggly bottom, sir, though your son might have his way with me, or that no-good boy who lives down the street, and slashed your tires last summer and egged your car. He is good enough to fuck me, but youÕre not. No, you CANÕT have that, sir. Only boys with half-grown peckers can have me, though I must dream at night in my bed of really big pricks, mustnÕt I? Who would want a half-pint size when she could have the real thing? I glanced to my right. Sam had shut his legs, imprisoning me as I stood naked between them, his hairy thighs gripped against my thin, childish legs. I was only 13. Sam put his hand out and squeezed my bare cheeks. ÒTheyÕre so soft,Ó he mused, even as he watched his wifeÕs bottom elevated by the hump, and the oiled straps holding her so she could not be spared from having it spanked. ÒIÕm going to put a little alcohol on your bottom,Ó Emily said to Jill. ÒIn case it bleeds from being struck. Does it sting a little? ThatÕs why I like applying it, not just for sanitary reasons, to keep you from being infected if your bottom is cut by the whip, but also because it makes each stroke that much more impressive. DonÕt worry, my dear, youÕll be well gagged, to keep you from grinding your teeth. I do actually believe in treating a girl well who is over the bench.Ó She stood over Emily, appling handfulls of alcohol with swirls of her fingertips to JillÕs fanny. As she worked, she called to one of the maids. She told her to comb out JillÕs hair and touch up her face with makeup. It was an odd sight, seeing Emily prepare JillÕs bottom for punishment while a maid knelt before her and did her face, making her as lovely as she ever could be, here on her wedding night, with her husband looking on. When JillÕs face was all painted and her bottom anointed, the maid gagged her mouth with a rubber bit. ÒBite down. Let it get seated properly,Ó Emily told Jill. The maid pushed it back as far as it could go in JillÕs mouth. The ends of the bit stuck out on either side of her lips, making her look almost grotesque, like a horse too harshly harnessed by its master. There were cords trailing from the ends of the bit, and these were bound behind Jill, in the softness of her blonde hair. She turned toward me, lying over the bench, and gazed at me with eyes filled with fear. I could do nothing. I simply stared back, a hand at my throat, praying to God that I would somehow not have to go next. Sam ran a finger down my spine, perhaps to reassure me that I was loved, and would not really be tortured, but it only made me shiver visibly, like a child seeing a ghost on Halloween. Emily whispered to the maid who had just finished doing JillÕs makeup and forcing her into the bit. The maid got up from in front of Jill and scurried off, only to return moments later with a wide belt. No pants were being worn by anyone in the room, so we knew immediately its nefarious purpose. Jill did too. When she saw it, she started, and yanked upon her bonds with her arms and legs. It was unavailing. A moment later she could only lie quietly over the humped bench and watch as Emily stalked about her, circling her white body, her ass raised and her legs wide apart. Jill seemed to mouth something, but I could not make it out, nor could anybody else, the bit so constrained her. ÒAh, I love seeing the little shivers of a girl about to be whipped,Ó Emily taunted. ÒSuch a lovely white body, with your fanny whiter still, screened from the sun by your panties. Where are they now? Did you lose them? Or did you forget to put them on for your wedding? How naughty a bride can be, hmmm? YouÕll wish youÕd remembered your panties in a minute, I swear.Ó Emily let the lash drop its tip onto JillÕs bottom. She caressed the girlÕs seat with it, drawing it finally through the open crack between JillÕs springy cheeks. ÒAre you ready, my dear?Ó Emily asked at last. ÒNod if you are.Ó Jill didnÕt move her head. Her neck was rigid. Her eyes stared, then fluttered a little, then stared again. She looked some animal about to be slaughtered, and Emily seemed to know this and savor it. Did Jill savor it too? All eyes were upon her. No one spoke, everyone watched. ÒLet it begin,Ó Sam uttered suddenly, startling me. Emily brought the strap smartly down upon JillÕs seat. The blonde bucked as the leather struck, then howled through her gag. ÒIt is only the first of many, my dear,Ó Emily told Jill. She stood watching the blonde as she jerked again in her bonds, and squeezed her asscheeks, trying to squeeze away the pain. At last JillÕs cry died away. ÒAgain?Ó Emily asked Sam. She would let him call out the strokes, to make his wife even more aware of her need to obey him. ÒAgain, and harder this time. Make her squirm like a fish,Ó Sam croaked. His cock was really in control of his mind now, I guessed. ÒWhy, Sam. You are so horrible, but itÕs your wife!Ó Emily said. She saluted him and then JillÕs bottom, bringing the lash right down, hard across the cheeks, and bringing a shriek from Jill. Her bottom wobbled upon the hump, like jello being brought out for eating. A red stripe formed. A maid approahced me, something in her hands. I received it, cupping my palms, taking my hands from my nervous fanny to allow her to give it to me. ÒWhat is this?Ó I asked. Three metal rings, with the ability to be snapped open and shut. A wire connected them, and ran on to a little box, which the maid kept. ÒItÕs for SamÕs penis,Ó she answered. Curious, I turned about, Sam actually letting me, for he was as curious as I. At the maidÕs behest I bent and attached each of the rings to SamÕs cock. He was eager for anything that might pleasure him, anything Emily would permit. He did not stop me. Emily seemed to have arranged this in advance. She waited, standing beside Jill, who fought back tears as she tried to squeeze away the sting of the second slash sheÕd been given. The belt dangled aimlessly from EmilyÕs fist, so quiet now and harmless, like a gun lying dormant in a drawer, children playing nearby. I closed each of the three rings over SamÕs cock. They were a bit on the small side, and indented the flesh of his organ as they snapped shut upon it. ÒNow with each whip-bite, the maid will pass a small electric current through the wire, from the box, and zap your penis, Sam,Ó Emily told my new husband. ÒThis is a wedding night, after all, where the groom is bound in to matrimony as surely as the wife.Ó Sam looked up, shocked, as one might say, at the purpose of this device newly applied to his penis, but a second maid had arrived on the scene and was coaxing his big arms behind him. He did not resist, so aroused was he by the closeness of all this young female flesh, the maids just in their panties and me inspecting my handiwork as I checked to make sure the rings didnÕt grip his cock with excessive tightness. I heard a click and realized the maid behind him had just cuffed him with handcuffs. Then the maid with the box took my hands, lifting them from SamÕs cock, and pulled them behind me and cuffed me as well. She turned me and sat me upon SamÕs thigh. I felt his hairy leg on my bottom once more. At least it was better than feeling the strap! My legs were opened. I saw that the box had a second wire running from it. The maid bent and taped this to my clitty. ÒPlease donÕt,Ó I begged. I watched, looking down between my trembling bosoms, as she delicately taped the wire to me, pressing to make sure the tape stuck properly, trying to cover as little of my pubic hair as possible with it, for obviously it would have to be pulled off afterward. Next wires were plugged into the box and run up to my nipples, which she carefully wrapped with the ends of the wire. Sam was made to stand up a little and the maid behind him stuck the end of a wire into his asshole, then taped it there and made him sit back down. Fortunately, perhaps because IÕd already been fucked there this evening, my butthole was spared. ÒNow Sam,Ó Emily said. ÒYou were so brave and eager to see your wife thrashed before. I hope you do not show any cowardliness now.Ó Sam gulped. ÒOkay,Ó he said at last. ÒBut how can I keep from cuming?Ó ÒIt is not too pleasurable, I dontÕ think, having your cock shocked,Ó Emily laughed. ÒDo your best, Sam, or I might put even you over this bench.Ó ÒDo it,Ó Sam said finally, meaning the whipping of his wife, I think, not the subjugation of himself in the selfsame position, over the bench.Ó And then both he and I jumped as a current attacked our loins, even as Emily whacked his honeyÕs heinie. She bleated, he and I yelped. It continued unabated then, Emily flaying poor JillÕs tushy, striping it hard and fast, while Sam and I were jolted in our privates by the evil little maid with the electronic box. ÒOooh! Oooch! Owooo!Ó I blurted, Sam shouting out his own agonies, as Jill was made to cry where she lay over the bench. Mightily Sam strove to keep from ejaculating. I alternated between being absorbed in myself and watching him, seeing his chest strain, his arms bound behind him, his neck muscles bulging. ÒDonÕt, please donÕt cum, Sam!Ó I urged him. For one thing, if he did, and his cock shrank, the metal rings would simply fall off, leaving only me to be tortured as Jill rang out her shrieks with each new biting fall of the lash. I know Sam had a wire up his butt, however, it woulndÕt be the same, in my opinion, as having both his dick and his ass hot-wired. I guessed he might even manage to dig the wire out of his butt with his finger, once the pain/pleasure response of the current was no longer being applied to his cock. He played along for the moment, trying hard not to leave me bereft, the only one suffering. Then suddenly I felt a wetness upon my leg as I turned to watch Jill, and, looking back at Sam, I saw for the first time in my life his cum actually shooting out, spraying like a firehose against my 13-year-old thigh. ÒSam, no!Ó I begged, but it was too late. He grinned happily as he realized all was lost, and the battle was over for him. When he was done, the last of his cum shot out only my leg, he lifted his haunches slightly from the satin chair and ripped the wire out of his butt with his finger. ÒWhew! What an adventure,Ó Sam marvelled. For the first time he seemed to see normally again, relieved of his lust. I watched unhappily as his penis shrank and the coiled rings fell off, one by one. ÒGet me out of these handcuffs!Ó he shouted. A maid glanced quickly at Emily. She nodded, reluctantly, her approval. Sam was unlocked, he tore his arms from the girl and the cuffs at the first opportunity and rose from his chair in all his manly glory. Even as he stood his cock became erect once more, so aroused was he by the sight of his wife bent over the bench, her ass open and smarting. I was knocked off his leg like a forgotten toy. He walked away from me and his chair, cocksure now, eager to have his wife right where she lay. Emily dared not resist him. He was a loin in full roar, and boar charging down upon its prey, a leopard running in fast for the kill. Sam straddled the bench. He prised aprart his wifeÕs asscheeks, savoring their already well-spread state even as he opened them more. Standing over her like Genghis Kahn over a victim, rippling with power from his toes to the tip of his cock, he licked his lips, and his eyes took on a predatory gleam. Jill mewled behind her gag, tried to twist her hips away. He slapped her bottom hard. ÒBe still, girl! It is time,Ó he said. Behind me I heard a shuffling and rearranging as couples prepared to have their own amorous combats in accompaniament with the bride and groom. A man approached me. He sat down in SamÕs chair and, without even having the grace to unhandcuff me, bent me right over in front of him so that my cunnylips were presented to his naked cock. He clasped me by my arms, drew them in hard against my bent-over back, and in this way pulled my legs up close to his loins. He shoved his dick right into my nest, spearing me in my bent-down postion, with my hair tickling my toes as my face was made to observe my ankles. I wanted to watch Sam and Jill, but it was not to be. I was fucked from behind, rudely and without compassion, by this man, as my own groom did poor Jill up the ass. All was gruntings and bleatings and screams of pleausure around me, as I myself began to cry out at the swift and pounding intrusion of the manÕs prick up my cunt. I fought him but it was no use. His powerful arms held me in place and he reamed me repeatedly. I succumbed to him in the end, spasming with orgasms upon his hard pole, until he at last jetted himself into my womb. He would father my child, absent an abortion, I realized, and then I understood that Emily had let the night go its own way, finally, letting her plans be spoiled so that she could enjoy instead the raw urgency of the guests, each taking pleasure as he or she saw fit, with the exception of Jill and myself who, in our bonds, had to suffer whatever depridations others wished upon us. SamÕs raping of JillÕs bottom did not abate her whipping. As soon as he was done, Emily began again, letting her out of her gag momentarily that she might sip some wine before her punishment began anew. When Emily finished at last with Jill, I was put in her place, implacably, the man who had bent me over tying me down himself. Then I was bitted and whipped just as thoroughly as Jill had been, Emily delighting in my torment, giving me smelling salts when I fainted, feeding me bits of food to keep my strength up. I peed on the bench in my misery, and was thrashed for it. At last Jill and I were put upon the bed and, weeping at our fate, were raped by whichever men might have us, both of us tied down so that we could not resist. Sam, for his part, amused himself with other girls, though at last he shot the remnants of his seed into us, to lay claim to us at nightÕs end, so that other men might not take us home with them instead. ----------------------- 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