Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in 
PRIVATE PLACES

Chapter Seven

	I lay by the pool.  It was early morning.  We were not at the condo pool, but at a private pool behind the house of a close friend of SamÕs.  He had brought us there to recover from our bridal night.  He sat inside, eating breakfast with his friend and watching ESPN with him on T.V.  Jill and I lay in the warm morning sunshine, on soft towels spread over chaise lounges.  We had bikini tops on, but our bottoms were naked.  We could not bear to wear panties.  I felt the rising sun upon my bottom.  It was red-striped and bruised from my visit to the whipping bench.  My cunt felt thoroughly violated, as did my bottomhole, though only Sam had fucked me up the rear.
	ÒOooh, mine still hurts so,Ó Jill confided in me, sleepily.  We both were exhausted from our long night together.  
	ÒI hurt all over,Ó I replied, though in truth most of it was confined to my loins.
	ÒWeÕre pregnant now, you know, though by God knows whom,Ó Jill said.  Her tushy trembled.  I felt my back shiver.
	ÒI know,Ó I answered.
	ÒDo you want to give birth?Ó she asked.
	ÒI donÕt think so.Ó
	ÒMe neither.Ó
	ÒWell, look at these two babes,Ó Sam announced, stepping outside.  Despite his night of exertion, his cock stood up stiffly, ready to go again.  He walked over to us, his friend accompanying him.  Out of deference to Sam the man kept his own swimsuit on, though I saw it bulging mightily in the crotch.  We were SamÕs women, not his.  I guessed, though, he expected to be given permission to fuck us later, after weÕd recovered a little more from our ordeal.  Why else would he have allowed us to be brought here?  There must be a quid pro quo, and Jill and I were obviously it.
	ÒSam, that was awful!Ó Jill said frankly, though she huddled down in her her towel as she said it, clutching the ends of it with her hands, as if still somehow on the whipping bench, certain to suffer an immediate reprisal.  My towel smelled sweet and fresh, like daisies.  IÕd been bathed along with Jill in a bathtub a few minutes earlier, then told to go out and lie down by the pool.  Jill and I had donned bikini tops, just to preserve our modesty.  I could feel sleep filling me as I felt the sun rise.  Despite the dawning of a new day, I knew I didnÕt have much strenght left after my long night to stay awake.  Neither, I guessed, did Jill.  Yet, standing over me now, leering down at me, was SamÕs friend Max, his erection politely hidden for the moment, but sure to spring out at the first sign of permission.
	ÒGirls, I want you to keep Max happy while IÕm gone for a few days,Ó Sam said.  ÒIÕll be back when your bottoms have healed.  Meantime, Sam here enjoys helping wounded girls recover.  HeÕs studying to be a doctor, and heÕs promised to do all he can to ease your pain and help you get back on your feet.Ó  He turned to Max.  ÒThough, I daresay, seeing them waddle out to these chairs a few moments ago I think they may already be well on the way back to health, Max, and may need to be fucked more than anything else.  Once, that is, their cunts can take it.  This is their honeymoon, you know.  DonÕt disappoint them.Ó
	ÒSam, what are you saying?!Ó Jill asked.  She propped herself up on one arm, wincing as the movement flexed her asscheeks.
	ÒIÕm saying that this is your honeymoon, you are both newlyweds, and IÕve been called away,Ó Sam replied.  He grinned.  I guessed he had met some female or other and found he had an opportunity to fuck her for the next few days, perhaps while her husband was out of town.  Or maybe he just had some new test for us to endure, to satisfy his increasingly wicked sense of fun.  ÒMax here is an experienced sadist.  He will help you recover and then give you both new things to do.  I expect you both to be shipshape when I return, and to report to me everything new that youÕve learned, all the new skills and techniques.  For myself, to be honest, IÕve met two older women at the party last night, who insist I donÕt know the first thing about being a groom.  So they will help me, and Max here has been selected by them to help you.  ItÕs a fair arrangement, in my opinion, and the women convinced me it was necessary.  So if you find yourself being assigned some duty that seems unpleasant, donÕt feel bad, the women promised to make me learn some new tricks too.  I wanted to include you, but they said it must just be me, all by myself, and them.  So it will be two of you with Max, learning and being trained, while I undergo whatever the women have in store for me.  Sorry, girls, but I couldnÕt resist.  I wasnÕt about to leave you two by yourselves at our condo.  You belong to me, after all.  So IÕm ÔdisposingÕ of you, as it were, while I enjoy groom-training at the hands of the women.Ó  He turned around then, and walked away, tall and sure of himself, challenged, I guess, by the idea of taking on the two women.  He would go alone to them, and they and he would see which was master of the other.  I realized it was nothing a young girl like myself or a newlywed like Jill could provide him with.  And, no doubt, the women were married, I guessed, so time was of the essence, before their husbands returned from whatever had taken them away, leaving their wives to find entertaintments for themselves.  
	ÒSam, donÕt go,Ó Jill begged, but her voice was soft, not loud, as if she knew no male could resist such a sexual challenge.
	ÒYou will be challenged as well, my dear,Ó Max answered, and, looking up at him, seeing his mustache and his crewcut and his gleaming eyes, I knew we would indeed be challenged, and I dreaded the thought of it.
	As soon as the sun grew hot Max took us inside.  He said it was bad for us to tan our wounded bottoms.  He watched us as we walked, our legs akimbo, our cunnies still hurting from being raped upon the bridal bed.  He showed us the greatest deference.  He placed us in a bed upstairs, tying our wrists lightly so that we might not escape, binding them above our heads to the bedÕs headboard.  Then he gave us each a sleeping pill, to ease our pain, and off we both went to dreamland.  The last thing I felt as I fell asleep was his hand lightly caressing me betwen my carelessly spread legs.  I was too weak to close them.  He tickled me lightly, not intrusively, upon my cunny.  His very sweetness scared me, for I knew the greatest sadists prepared their victims with gratuitous kindnesses, savoring their bodies even as they planned to destroy them.
	Three days passed.  Our bottoms recovered more quickly than IÕd imagined possible.  Our host let us have the run of his house.  Jill and I both understood that we were not permitted to leave, and we didnÕt try to, knowing that it would be worse for us if we did, especially when Sam returned.  Our host shared meals with us, serving us our food, insisting on being our slave.  Just looking at his powerful, muscled body, though, I knew he didnÕt plan to remain our servant forever.  He was toying with us.  I could see it in his eyes.  He was encouraging us to be bratty, so he could punish us.  Instead Jill and I were both on our best behavior.  We prayed Sam would return, find us well-behaved, and take us home, yet the days passed and he did not come back.  
	I think we gradually became entranced by our captor.  He was very handsome, and he had a way of looking at us that sent shivers down our spines, even as he behaved with textbook chivalry toward us, like Lancelot courting Gunievere.  Two Gunieveres, in this case.  His property was a low, single-story house, but with a basement we were not permitted to enter.  He kept it locked at all times.  Surreptitiously Jill and I searched for the key in his drawers, but we could not find it.  Trees bunched close to his house, shrouding all but his pool in deep shade throughout much of the day.  IÕd been too worn out to watch the scenery pass as IÕd been brought here on the fateful morning three days earlier, but I sensed the nearest sign of civilization was some distance away, a few miles maybe, or more.  A high wall surrounded his house, and it was topped with barbed wire.  He insisted it was to keep out thieves, but Jill and I knew better.  
	Songbirds flitted amongst the branches of the trees, giving the whole place a quiet, tranquil air, putting Jill and I at our ease, even as we wracked our minds trying to figure out what ultimately would happen to us here.  All the while our captor kept feeding us, brining us fine wines, dressing us in new bikinis every morning, burning our old ones at night in the fireplace after weÕd gone to bed.  Our wrists were tied to the headboard each night, not too tight, and we were given pills to ensure weÕd sleep.  The moon would pass by our window as we lay there, and weÕd awake refreshed in the morning, moon-kissed, ready for a day of swimming in the pool and aimless hours of relaxation.
	Breakfast of the fourth day Jill confronted our host.  She and I wore the fresh bikinis heÕd laid out for us, flimsy little things, barely kept on by picturesque bows that hugged us low on our hips.
	ÒYouÕre very nice, sir,Ó Jill said, poking a finger into his bare chest.  He wore shorts, nothing else, an erection perpetually brimming in his pants.  ÒBut Sam said youÕre a sadist, and youÕve yet to prove it, though I can see just by your eyes that girls like me and Flurry here have regretted knowing you.Ó
	I trembled a little, standing beside Jill in my wee bikini.  WeÕd played mind games with this man for three whole days, dreading with each passing hour that this would be the hour he pounced on us.  Now we could stand it no longer.  (Though, as I stood beside Jill, I thought perhaps I might have stood his mental torment just a little longer, for his cock stuck up ever more profoundly in his shorts and his eyes took on a mad, crazy look, as if some deep urgent need had just been liberated in his soul.)
	Max flexed his arms.  He had tremendous muscles.  His chest heaved once, then relaxed.  His stomach rippled.  
	Jill and I both had developed nice tans from playing in the pool.  Only our breasts and bottoms and privates remained white, shielded from the sun by our bikinis, specially selected each morning by him, worn by us with, I must confess, a sense of pride, for they were hand-sewn in Italy, and specially imported by him, he said, just for girls like us, his guests.
	Max turned and ordered us to follow him.  We dared not disobey.  He could have broken either of us with a simple flexing of his massive arms.  I dreaded the thought of having him weild a whip over me.  Yet I followed, wiggling a little impatiently.  Curiousity killed the cat, and I guessed it was about to do me in too.  
	He led us into the living room.  A small fire had been prepared in the fireplace.  ÒTake off your bikinis yourselves and toss them in,Ó he said, challenging us.  Jill and I looked at each other.  Finally Jill touched the fabric of her bra, reached behind herself, sticking out her boobies at him, and undid her top.  That at least she could get away with, I figured.  She freed her breasts and took pride in seeing how MaxÕs eyes glowed at having her topless before him.  What wicked thoughts did her naked breasts inspire in him?  I touched my own bra with quavering fingers.  JillÕs nipples were attentive, poking themselves right at Max, urging him to be bad.  She tossed her bra into the fire and we all stood there and watched the flames as they quickly consumed it.  Then she stepped behind me and, without my permission, undid my own top.  Misery loves company, I guess.  I could not stop her.  My knees were practically knocking together from the awful suspense that filled the room.  She tossed my bra into the fire beside the ashes of hers and we all stared at it as it burned, even Max, who seemed intrigued by the destruction of my little brassiere.
	Jill ran a finger along the top of her panties.  Lightly she fondled the drawstrings a moment, and then gracefully undid them.  She pitched her frail garment straight into the fire.  I played with my own drawstrings a moment, and then untied them myself.  I did not want to be showed up as a coward.  Bravely I turned to the fire and, biting my lip, I tossed my panties irretrieveably into the hissing coals.  I watched my undies disappear into ashes upon them.
	Boldly we faced Max.  Our twin pairs of boobs bobbed sensuously before his eyes.  Naughtily we thrust our hips at him, letting him admire our well-furred nests.  Jill did not put her hands on her hips, but I thought she might have, so directly did she stare at Max, daring him to do his worst to her.  Max pulled down his trunks, letting us see his cock for the first time.  It stuck up lewdly, springing into action as he yanked down his pants.  Jill and I both gasped at its monstrous length and its imposing width.  He might be a sadist, but he had a cock to die for!  I fidgeted, watching it, and Sam saw my eager apprehension and smiled at me as he turned as threw his shorts into the fire.  
	ÒYou will both do well, I think,Ó Sam told us.  ÒI like girls who are able to face whatÕs ahead of them.Ó  With that he took us each by the hand, and led us to the cellar door.  From a tiny slot in the wall he removed a hidden key.  He unlocked the door, replaced the key, and ushered us inside.
	I lifted my fingertips into the hushed darkness, feeling for anything that might tell me where I was.  A moment later Max flicked on the lights.  I saw I was at the top of a wooden staircase.  Below me I could see only the steps, and a little to either side.  Like a child wading into a pool, frightened of the water, I descended the stairs on tiptoe.  Jill followed.  We were truly courageous, I thought, bravely leading the way down into this forboding, hushed place, wearing nothing at all to protect us, armed only with our beauty.  Would Max love us enough not to hurt us?  He followed, naked as us, we being two against his one, yet he was so huge I knew Jill and I were utterly at his mercy.  I felt my sleek sunbrowned legs timidly take each downward step beneath me.  Why did they not stop?  You could see the whiteness at my hips where my bikini was supposed to be, yet IÕd taken it off and tossed it away.  My boobies, so freshly grown and beautiful, jiggled their sensitive tips between my tummy and chin.
	JillÕs hand brushed my bottom.  Was it an accident?  Did she like my ass?  I dared not turn my head and look back at her.  The stair had no railing.  There was nothing to hang onto.  All my concentration had to be on keeping myself from falling, yet wasnÕt I falling even as I walked, would I not be a fallen woman coming down here, or at least a fallen child?
	I felt JillÕs breath on my shoulder and knew she must be in the same predicament.  She feared tumbling down the stairs.  Max came after her, no doubt entranced by her nervously waggling hips, her womanÕs hips, bared like a brideÕs must be for the wedding night festivities.  
	My breath caught in my throat as I descended the last few steps.  Here, in this simple suburban cellar, Max had created a separate world.  The stone on the walls was old.  Had he imported it specially, or built the house over this place?  The floor was carpeted, I realized, stepping down onto it with my bare feet.  Its warmth comforted me as I stood shivering in the half-cold of the dungeon, its temperature somewhere between midnight and dawn, never warming to the heat of midday, always staying a recessed, quiet place, where the skin might be cooled down for warming with wicked things, things that might warm certain portions of the body only, leaving the rest chilly and unloved, unhurt.  I reached behind myself and let my hands hug the plump 13-year-old cheeks of my bottom.  Feeling the carpet beneath me, I realized it was not for my comfort, or any girlÕs, but only for MaxÕs.  He would rule us here, and we would suffer and be discomforted.  In the dungeon I saw old, wretched equipment, from the days of the inquisition, imported, I guessed, from Spain, to break the Indians of their innocent beliefs in spirits and ghosts and make them baptised members of GodÕs Holy Church.  There was a guillotine, with a special bench for the victim to lie on, its rearward portion upraised so they might be sodomized even as they waited for the gleaming blade above to descend.  There was an indoor scaffold, its noose dangling down, with straps along its base where the girl might have her legs spread apart, displaying her sex to her captor as he prepared her for her doom.  Looking close, mesmerized, I saw the ankle straps would skitter downward along the upright posts of the scaffolding when the noose was dropped, leaving the poor girl bitterly wide open and available even as she felt the noose grip and break her pretty neck.  Had girls struggled there, I wondered, feeling their lights go out even as men savored their split-apart legs, their little sex hungry in death, from loveless nights spent here in the dungeon?  Next to the brutal scaffolding I saw a smooth, clean feather duster.  It was a truly perverse sight, and I wanted to tear my eyes away, yet I could not!  To torment a girlÕs clit even as she waited to die, to watch her squirm in frustration, her ankles hopelessly bound, her cunny implacably spread for her captorÕs amusement.  Her slim swanlike neck roped off from the rest of her, her head twisting above the noose, pleading.  Were spoilt white girls brought here too, I wondered, in days gone by, girls whoÕd slept with other men or eaten apples their parents disapproved of?
	Nearby there was a stocks, a timber frame with holes not for the wrists, or the head, but for (I feared) the breasts.  I saw I might be made to stand before it with the holes just at the height of my breasts.  They could be put between the two halves of wood and then the wood brought together, sliding down in grooves, until it squeezed and distorted the breasts as much as the girlÕs captor might wish.  And the stocks could be raised or lowered, to accomodate Jill perhaps, or some other girl.  Hanging from the stocks, on a little peg, was a pair of nipple clamps.  Jill touched my back.  Her finger found my spine, ran down it.  I felt her blonde hair fall upon my shoulder.  I reached back, found her hand with mine, squeezed it.  We were crazy, standing there, feeling our cunts moisten, our nipples so hard they hurt, looking wide-eyed at such horrid things!  Nearest to us, beneath a wall filled with whips and straps and tawses, was a small table for our masterÕs pleasure.  It held tubes of fresh lubricant, and condoms in a pretty flower vase.  I saw nothing for my comfort, or JillÕs.  Just the necessities a man would wish for himself, as he worked his organ in and out of the pretty captives in his posession.  He would be protected, right down to the latex sheath on his penis, yet the girls would be utterly at his mercy.
	ÒMax, please take us upstairs!Ó Jill blurted.  Her finger dimpled my bottom even as she echoed my own fear.  Max did not touch us.  He merely stood, still on the last step, towering over us, like a troll guarding a bridge over which we had too hastily crossed.
	ÒJill, is it not your honeymoon?Ó Max asked her.  His voice was low and growling.
	ÒYes!Ó she answered.  ÒWell, Flurry and mine, with Sam!  But he is not here!Ó
	Max laughed.  ÒAll you see before you is not old.  Sam is watching you, through hidden cameras IÕve rigged up.  Even as he dallies with his lady friends, or does their bidding, suffering perhaps, or not, as they choose, his cock tested hour after hour with new challenges, new tortures (I cannot say, it is their choice what to do with him), he watches you.  He has left you here to be trained, both of you, and he is watching.  You must obey, to please him, or to let him know you suffer even as he suffers.Ó
	I squeezed JillÕs hand more tightly.  I scanned the walls, the ceiling, for cameras.  I could not see any.  They make them so small these days, some as tiny as the tip of a pencil.  They could be anywhere, even in the torture machines themselves, perhaps ideally poised to zoom in on my butthole as Max did some awful deed to me.  I felt Jill exhale hard, as if trying to summon up her strength for Sam.  He had done this.  He had brought her here, and he would reclaim her one day, I was sure.  We would not die here.  We were just to explore new things, albeit with a difficult taskmaster to keep us on the straight and narrow.
	Were we being watched?  Were there women sitting someplace even now, sipping tea, entertaining guests, perhaps, as we prepared to delve into the dungeonÕs secrets, offering up our own in exchange?  Would they sit and laugh and observe us, see our every twitch, our every imprecation?
	I stepped up to the last remaining barrier between us and the dungeon.  It was a simple steel gate, waist high, with a latch holding it to the twin posts that kept it erect.  Beyond this gate, incongruously set between posts next to the stairs, lay the awfulness of the dungeon.  The wall of this room was to my right, the stairs to my left.  Behind me, Jill waited, letting me go first, a section of wall beyond her, cutting us off from whatever lay behind it.  I peered into the gloom.  The nights did not show us everything the dungeon held, only the nearer things.  Did beasts lie chained in its deepest depths?  Were there machines of impossible nightmares lurking in its unlit shadows?  With a click I lifted the latch.  It was worn, as if many girls had lifted it up before me, intruding into these uncharted depths of doom.  Jill caught my elbow.  She held it a moment, tensely.  Then, I having lifted the latch, holding it up, she made the decision to push my arm forward, by my elbow, opening the gate for the both of us.  We tiptoed within.  Max descended the last step on the stairs and followed us.  He shut the gate behind us and I saw him use the same key heÕd unlocked the cellar door with to imprison us behind the gate.  Once it was locked, just as the door above must now be, I saw he reached to the wall and opened a small door.  There, set in the ancient stone, a small lockbox had been secreted.  There was a number pad, and Max touched the numbers in a sequence known only to him.  A compartment opened.  He put the key inside.  He shut up the box.  We were truly trapped now.  I scanned about, looking for a weapon.  Except for dildoes and straps, neatly hung up on the wall, I saw none.  Could I fight this man barehanded?  I looked at him, judged him.  He was as muscular as Atlas.  His cock stuck out boldly, unafraid.  His nuts hung below, obscenely full and bulging.  I think kicking my toes up into his nuts wouldnÕt have helped at all.  He was simply too powerful, even in his loins.  He would probably just laugh at me, and then make me pay.
	With a sudden loss of all my resolve I stood with a sudden meekness.  I felt the same realization wash over Jill.  We were trapped down here with this man, knowing only his first name, nothing else.  We would be at his mercy, and there was no escaping it.  Two young girls like ourselves would be no match for him, however much we might have been ÔempoweredÕ at self-esteem classes in school.  He would rule, and we would be his little subjects.  I felt a thrill somewhere deep in my womb, running up my spine even, as I realized the utter subjugation of myself to this man with his big loins and chest, his powerful back and arms and (I knew) his iron will.  We stood before him with new confidence, Jill and I.  He did not take just any girls down here, I realized.  He had his pick of girls in the world.  For him to take this kind of time, show this kind of concern, loving us for days, serving us, before bringing us down here, showed he had a special appreciation for us.  Yet I had no doubt that once Sam reclaimed us other girls would stand right here in our place, testing their own feelings, and being loved and raped by him in turn.  
	Yes, there was no denying him.  His testicles brimmed with his sperm, his cock stood up like a roosterÕs, its largeness greater than any manÕs IÕd seen before, and he was clearly sexually excited.  He would not wish to leave here with blue balls.  He eyed us closely.  He picked up something IÕd mistaken for lubricant from the nightstand.  It was, in fact, a squeeze-bottle of honey.
	ÒWelcome to the dungeon,Ó Max said, and squirted JillÕs pussy with honey, then mine.  We laughed.  There was nothing else to do.  Jill and I stood laughing at ourselves, staring down at our nests with the honey squirted into them.  Would we taste as sweet soon, naturally, from our own excitement?  I reached out and took the honey bottle from Max.  FairÕs fair, I thought, and squirted him up and down on his big cock.  He let me, did not stop me, savored the honey as it spurted out onto his stiff organ.  When IÕd ceased Jill pushed her hair back from her face and bent over and nibbled the honeyed tip of his penis.  She looked elegant, standing there, not wanting to get goo in her lovely hair, keeping it back from her mouth and face as she gobbled more and more of MaxÕs prick.  He trembled.  She bobbed her head upon him, knelt finally, and choked herself as she tried to take as much as she could of him into her mouth.
	ÒStand up,Ó Max whispered.  Jill realized she had failed to deep throat him, and knew not how to pull it off.  She rose.  She licked her lips and then bit her lower lip apprehensively.  ÒYou must be trained,Ó Max said simply.  He opened a drawer in the nightstand and took out sets of wrist and ankle straps for both of us.  He handed them to Jill, to me.  ÒPut them on.  It will make it easier for me to bind you for your workout.Ó
	ÒOur workout?Ó Jill laughed.  It was a nervous laugh.  I felt butterflies in my tummy.
	ÒDid you take P.E. in school?Ó Max asked.
	ÒOf-of course,Ó Jill answered.  ÒSoccer, baseball, dancing...Ó
	ÒBaton twirling,Ó I offered.
	ÒYes, they exercised your arms and legs, but what about your sexual parts?Ó Max grinned.  ÒWell, as new young wives we must finally have you experience the exertions that really matter.  Put on the straps.  Your husband is watching.  Let him see you go willingly.  There are ways to help the unwilling along,Ó he added, with a glance at the wallfull of whips.
	Trembling, I helped Jill into her wriststraps, and she into mine.  Then we both bent over and put on our anklestraps.  When we stood up again, Max had twin collars dangling from his hands.  Jill took mine and buckled me into it.  I did the same for her.  They were simple dog collars, nothing fancy.  When I returned my eyes to Max I saw he wanted me to put my hands behind myself.  I did.  I could feel that a quick snap of my wriststraps would make me cuffed in my own bonds.  Jill stood with her own arms placed as mine were.  Sam walked behind us.  With a quick closing of my wrists he made me utterly captive.  JillÕs wrists were bound together just as easily.  
	Max stepped back in front of us, tracing a finger over our bottoms before he went.
	ÒWell, sir, now that you have us, what are you going to do with us?Ó Jill asked him.  Her stance was bold, her legs apart, her bush pushed forward.  She tossed her head, like a horse at pasture, regarding a boy who longed to break it.  I tried to emulate JillÕs courage.  I stuck my pussy forward, heedless of the danger.  I felt my breasts rise and fall and rise again as I tried to stare Max down.
	ÒYou girls are born without penises, yet your most important goal in life must be to accomodate yourself to the male penis, to learn to accept it as a part of yourself,Ó Max said.  ÒAs girls, you are taught to fear men and their penises, which is too bad, really, for men will not have their cocks denied.  Would you both live to be old maids?  I think not.  So let us begin, then, helping both of you.Ó  He led us with this flowery speech deeper into the dungeon.  Flicking on a little lamp, he showed us a table with gags laid out upon it.  I saw Jill and I would be helped, whether we wished it or not, in learning to suck cock, for there were all sizes of penises laid upon the table, each one able to fit into a gag that would be worn in a girlÕs mouth.  ÒWould you like to start small,Ó Max asked, Òor attempt something big?Ó
	Jill gulped.  She scanned the assortment of rubber cocks.  I saw her bottom cheeks twitching as she contemplated them, her boobs rising and falling softly.  ÒSomething big,Ó she said finally.  
	ÒJill!Ó I protested.  She should not push herself too far.  Especially if it meant I would be fitted with one the same size as hers!  Suavely Max took up a gag, and asked Jill politely to open her mouth.  She obeyed, obviously scared, yet parting her lips, not resisting.  He eased her teeth more widely apart, then inserted the gag.  She coughed.  He bound it behind her, in the nest of her lovely, tumbling hair.  Were the women watching?  Were they laughing at her fright?  
	There was a slit in the middle of JillÕs gag.  She tried to close her teeth over it, but Sam opened them.  He picked up a large rubber dildo, not one as big as his cock, thankfully, and stuffed it into the slit in JillÕs gag.  She revolted a moment, bucking her head, twisting away, but he shoved it forward until she had all of it worked into her mouth.  It must have rammed against the back of her throat, and I dreaded having to take one just as big.  Max attached the dildo with snaps to the gag so that it would remain in place.  
	Jill turned her head, looked at me, free of MaxÕs hands at last, looking ridiculous, like a harnessed horse, except a horse did not have to suffer a cock in its mouth.  She tossed her long hair.  She was truly ÔbittedÕ now, no doubt about it, gagged, with her wrists bound behind her.  Her hair fell into her eyes and she flicked her head again, but some remained still.  Her tits wiggled freely.  Max grinned at them, plotting, I feared, to put clamps on them.
	ÒPrance about,Ó Max ordered.  ÒLet your husband see what a fine young filly you are.Ó  Jill lifted her knees high and marched herself around Max twice, glancing at him nervously, fearful to disobey yet not really, I think, wanting to play horsey before the hidden camera with its unknown viewers.  When she stopped, panting, her breath muffled by her thick gag, Max turned to me.
	ÒYou must attempt one the same size,Ó Max told me, letting his hand pass over the cocks so neatly arranged on the table.  ÒThough, you are somewhat smaller, so a proportionally smaller cock will be okay...Ó  He found one my size and picked it up.  I opened my mouth.  I felt like I was at the dentist.  (And how I would have preferred it, even to get a cavity filled!)  Max pushed the cockhead within my parted lips, pressing them wider apart, filling me with the awful penis shaped gag.  Then he lifted a strip of leather, put it over the base of the penis, snapped the two together, and tied the whole thing up behind my neck.  I turned my head to face Jill.  She stood watching me.  We were twin horses now.  We could neither speak, nor resist, our master.
	ÒForgive me, girls, but since you have taken up an equestrian lifestyle, I must ensure your compliance with the appropriate instrument,Ó our new master grinned.  Reaching into the shadows, he drew forth a little pony whip.  It had a short, stout handle, almost too small for his big palm.  He gripped it with a sense of humor, as if he were an older boy taking hold of his younger brotherÕs toy.  The lash itself was capriciously thin.  However, being so short, I thought it could not hurt me too much.  Salaciously I waggled my bottom for him.  Standing there bare-legged, I wanted to be struck on my seat with it, and I think Jill did too.  How terrible it is to be a girl, you must think, reading this, wanting to be dominated and whipped and fucked, despite spending hours putting on makeup, or polishing our nails, or thinking about how to be ever so perfectly beautiful.  I cannot explain it.  But when I felt that slim lash burn into my bottom I leapt forward, shrieking a little, as if in protest, and it hurt too, it did, I did not want it, yet as I felt my boobies spring up and down beneath me, my small feet flying forward to avoid the lash, I felt female entire, as if IÕd at last arrived at some blissful state, with a man who would make me into a true woman.
	Jill skipped forward with me, both of us receiving anew the pony lash upon our bottoms.  It whistled and struck into our quivering seats again and again.  Max drove us deeper into the dungeon.  I dreaded going deeper, for I knew at the very end of the dungeon, like Lucifer in Hell, must lie its most awful secrets.  Amidst the ever deepening gloom, far now from the lights which lit the dungeon entrance, machines of inexplicable horror loomed up at me.  I could not tell their purpose.  Somehow Max (or somebody) had found them and gathered them here, polished them up, and rebuilt them.  Each had probably originally been made by the Catholic Church, I guessed.  Their aim had been to break sinners, cut off their limbs or put them to death if they resisted.  Now, I supposed, theyÕd wickedly been converted into items of fertility, or psuedo-fertility.  Now they stood for the purpose of breaking a girl in to sex.  Young wives, little girls, it mattered not, I imagined, to Max.  Even older women, if theyÕd become too frigid for their husbands, too Hillary-like in their presumptiveness, might be brought here and retrained into obedience to the male penis.  They would leave humble and subservient.  All my feminist training in school made me want to rebel against such male-dominating devices.  And yet, in a way, my training drew me in closer, made me ever more curious.  With my nipples springing up on my bosoms, hard and desiring, with my belly so soft and slimly adhering to my hips, longing to be swollen with male seed, with the awkwardness of my youthful hips and the sassy swell of my girlish seat, I wished to explore, and to be explored upon those terrible phallus-like machines.  Jill too looked quickly from side to side, in awe at the cave into which we were being driven, and its contents.  Like mushrooms growing on the forest floor, the place seemed over-stocked with dildoes.  Big ones, smaller ones, ones with nubs down their sides, circus-like, to be twisted inside some female so she might become acrobatic in her bonds.  
	At last, coming round, I think, to the wall that fronted the stairs, we were in the most secretive part of the basement.  There I saw a small lamp.  It stood on a nightstand that held a vase of fresh flowers.  A nice touch, in such a forbidding area of the dungeon.  Had Max prepared it for us?  He must have.  
	Max ceased his flailing upon our shivering, whip-stung hinies.  Jill and I stood squeezing our cheeks, trying to rid our bottoms of the pain that enflamed them in insidious little stripes.  My ass felt like a road map, each road delicately carved into my flesh with the awful kissing of the whip.  Jill tossed her head backward, stood churning her ass and clamping her cheeks together.  I drew mine it too, but not just from the whip.  For it was then that I guessed the purpose of the two settees laid out before us.  Upon each pillows had been placed and plumped, about mid-way down.  I saw straps affixed to each sofa, and they seemed specially strong, as if a girl were sure to buck and struggle here with all her might.  I wished to turn, to run, but Max loomed up behind me, watching my bottom with fascinating and just barely containing, I think, his urge to flay us both alive right then and there, whacking us perhaps with his hand, slamming his palm into our asses again and again until we were no more.
	I felt a poke in my seat.  I turned my head, my eyes frightened.  It was MaxÕs cock.  He had not intended to jab me right between the cheeks of my bottom, I guessed, but was simply too big to avoid it.  The dungeon was a little cramped here.  He eased himself around me, watching myself and Jill all the while, ready to spring at us if we made any attempt to run away.
	In the light of the small table lamp I saw two dildoes.  IÕd ignored them at first.  They were much too big to be anything but a joke, werenÕt they?  Max took them now in his hands and lifted them up.  Each one put the handle of the pony whip to shame although, comparing them to MaxÕs penis, I think there might have been a fair contest between them in size.
	ÒYou girls are reported to both be inadequately receptive in your behinds,Ó he said, his voice a low, controlled snarl that sent chills of wonder down me.  What did he intend to do?  Could I take it?  Did I want to?  Jill seemed to thrust out her bare bosoms as if to say, ÔShe, the little girl, cannot take hers, but I can take mine.Õ  Well, we would just see about that!
	Max turned the dildoes in the lamplight, opened a jar of vaseline and dipped each one in, lovingly, as if knowing where theyÕd be soon, and how remarkably theyÕd impress themselves upon their victims.  ÒYes,Ó he said.  ÒYou will both be strapped down here, on these couches, and given these gifts up your ass.  Sam purchased them for you, and others besides, bigger still, to be worn by you here each day.  For a period each day I will bring you both down here and I will insert ever-larger dildoes into each of your assholes.  Why, you ask?  I know you must be asking it of me, even though you cannot speak.  When you are at last done with me, you will be taken to a party.  Men will be there, and it will just be you two, and you will have to serve them.  You will not want to be too narrow in back then.  Mistress Lalique has arranged for you to both entertain young men fresh from boot camp on the army base.  They will be lusty, and they will want to fuck you in your asses, because in army training they must submit themselves in such manner to show their utter obedience to their sergeant and their nation.  Naturally, such submissiveness is repulsive to normal young men, and they will want to expiate their fears and their misgivings at their own masculinity by pounding you both in your bottoms.  Besides which, being locked up in boot camp, theyÕll be lusty as hell, as IÕm sure you both can imagine.Ó  He grinned.  ÒSo you see, girls, it does have a purpose, this idea of having you lie over these couches and train yourselves to take big, large, manly dildoes up your little bottoms.  I know there are fat girls in college who would love to be imprisoned with young army studs for the weekend, and made to serve them.  Naturally, of course, such girls are never invited.  But you are, and you will serve these men, because Mistress Lalique has planned it this way, and promised Sam compensation for your services.Ó  He laughed.  ÒYes, dear Jill, you will not have to live in your sweet little lovenest condo anymore.  You and Sam will be moving up to a proper house, in a proper neighborhood, where you will take on the real duties of a real wife and begin bearing children for Sam.  Your young married days of bliss are over.  Now you will actually be his wife.  But you will have a big house, with a big lawn, and servants.  Robert Redford might pay a million dollars for a quick lay with another manÕs wife, but Mistress Lalique requires a bit more for her money.  But when it is over you will have a fine new life for yourself, and you will quit your job, of course, for it is not fit for a woman of your stature, living where you will live, to work for a living.Ó  I turned to look at Jill.  There were tears in her eyes.  She wanted what Max offered (who wouldnÕt?) but she was sad to bid goodbye to her previous life.  She liked her little condo.  Now she would have her own private pool, but it was fun sometimes to talk with the other couples just like her at the condo, or the older folks, winding down after raising children, or the young mothers burdened with too many kids, all of them racing around the pool and causing as much trouble as they could.  Yet who would not want to live as Mistress of a modern-day Tara, with Sam her husband playing Humphrey Bogart?
	Max turned his burning gaze to me.  ÒYes, Flurry,Ó he said, using the more feminine variation of my name, the one Jill used, the one that sweetly denied my will but promised to care for me and love me.  ÒYou will be going back to school, but as JillÕs daughter, not really her daughter of course, free to come and go when you please, but, being 13, you will be presented as her daughter, though some may wonder when indeed Jill got pregant to have one your age at her age now.  But, a few mysteries are not entirely to be frowned upon.  You will be going back to school, a private, advanced school, one more suited to your temperament.  YouÕll leave in your crisp girlÕs uniform and then come home again at late afternoon, everything all certain and proper.  Then, at night, youÕll sleep with Jill and Sam, the three of you married together and fucking in your big bridal bed.  YouÕll wear a slim wedding band to school on your finger, and tease the boys with it, IÕm sure, them wondering which hand and which finger indeed means a girl is taken for life, and being left all confused.  Of course, if you fancy one, thereÕs no bar to you substituting him for Sam, or sharing him with Sam and Jill, as you choose.  Mistress Lalique is only laying the foundation for you two.  You may make other arrangements as you wish, once youÕre settled.Ó  He gazed longingly at our two slim naked bodies, and I realized again he might still be our servant, despite his hugeness and the overwhelming dominance of his demeanor.  ÒTell me, girls,Ó he said at last.  ÒI know it will be quite a struggle for you to accomodate yourselves to the many pricks which wish to invade you, including my own.  Yes, you will take me also, when you can handle it.Ó  His grin widened.  ÒBut, overall, let us say, despite the Civil War you must feel inside you as you contemplate all this, do you think you might agree to such a scheme, living in a mansion of your own, in the finest part of town, and having servants to do your bidding?  ThereÕs no such thing as a free lunch of course, even for beautiful, spoilt little girls.  But what say you to the entire thing, can you nod your heads that you would like the result, at least?Ó  He waited.  I wanted to tell him he was a lousy poet and should just talk normally, but with every impatient heave of his chest I felt a little poetry from such a monstrous-looking man wasnÕt necessarily a bad sign.  At last, imperceptibly at first, Jill nodded.  I copied her.  I did not want to, but standing there, weak-kneed, feeling wet between my legs, the cool air of the dungeon playing games with my hot, excited flesh, I nodded too.  I was but 13, yet I could not deny my hunger to invite males to joust with me, though I hoped theyÕd lose and IÕd win.  Secretly, looking at MaxÕs big dick, I wished heÕd suddenly paw himself and shoot right there, right in front of us, spill his seed uselessly on the floor and then run away, embarassed, frightened of our awesome female beauty.  Jill and I would somehow free each other, nod politely with girlish confidence, and say, ÔSuch a baby!  He couldnÕt even handle two teenage girls.Õ  Yet, at the same time, I wished for it not to happen.  And it didnÕt.  His cock pulsed madly, yet Max regarded us with the cool calmness of a cucumber.  There was no way this big man was going to flame out.  We stared, he stared back.  
	ÒJill,Ó he said.  Words of command.  ÒYour husband is watching.  Get yourself down over these cushions now.Ó  She stepped forward.  I imagined she was a girl contemplating lovely flowers, not sure if they were poisionous, wanting to pick them, perhaps wanting to break open their stems and suck out their nectar.  IÕd done such, as a child.  The nectar of daisies was sweet.  IÕd wanted to suck on roses but their stems had such nasty thorns, IÕd never tried them.  
	Jill regarded the pillows.  Her bottomcheeks shook a little as she stood there, contemplating them.  Then she placed one knee on the sofa, spreading herself in back, letting me and Max see her private beauty, the undersides of her nether cheeks, the sweetness of the cunt.  She would display this view for hours to come, I feared, and me too.  
	Jill lay down over the pillows, letting her legs spread wide upon them, opening herself with a nervous glance at the dildos Max held in his hands.  Though her wrists were bound behind her, she arched her hienie and let the pillows lift her butt while the rest of her settled onto the much lower portions of the settee in front and back.  Her chin rested on the firm cushion of the seat itself.  There was no pillow for her head.  Her knees, opposite her upraised tushy, found themselves on the bare cushion too.  She let her ankles slide off the sides of the settee so that Max could bind them to its wooden legs.  The result was a picture of utter, total submission, which was indeed best for her safety.  The dildo Max intended to put up her would rend her apart if she did not submit completely.   Max thrust his own cock at the air, watching her.  His balls seemed close to bursting.  I knew it must be quite a job for him to restrain himself from taking her then and there, right in front of her husband, who must be watching us by camera.  Max was a scoundrel.  I knew he must have been paid a kingÕs ransom by Mistress Lalique to restrain himself so chivalrously with female bottomflesh beckoning so closely.
	Max walked over to me and patted my behind.  One couch remained, standing empty and waiting next to Jill.  ÒDonÕt make me flog you onto it,Ó he urged me.  ÒI could not control myself once I truly got angry.  IÕve killed girls before, in my lust.  Lie down.  Obey.  It is best for you, and for me.  Do not be wilful or IÕll kill us both.Ó
	I stared at him.  I knew he meant it, standing there with his powerful, hairy chest rising and falling above my slim little shoulders.  Once he got out of hand, there would be no stopping him.  He might control his lust, but he could not control both his lust and his anger.  I did not wish to harm myself by lying down, yet to remain standing would be even worse for me.  Max was the true master for a girl like me.  A gentler man might have relented, or gotten cold feet.  But Max had passions, deep and profound and uncontrollable, like a God who warns his flock not to disobey lest he control them.  As Max spoke to me, I knew he was being utterly candid about himself.  Were I to anger him, he would not be able to stop himself.  He would destroy me, like O.J. with Nicole.  There would be no satiating his anger-lust until I was reduced to lifelessness.
	With shivery, fearful steps I approached the sofa.  It was there to see me Fucked, pure and simple, by horrid things that meant I would have trouble getting up when it was over.  Max squeezed my asscheek, as if to reassure me.  Jill turned her head, seemed to urge me in complicity.  ÔDonÕt stay standing there,Õ her eyes seemed to beg.  ÔDonÕt let me be embarrassed, all by myself, in front of all the eyes that might be watching.  Lie down here beside me.  We can do this together.  We can be the same.Õ  I loved Jill as a sister.  IÕd never had a sister, being an only child.  IÕd always wanted one.  Okay, big sister.  I wonÕt let you down.
	I approached the sofa prepared for me.  I let my knees bang against it.  Max patted my bottom as one might pat the flank of a horse to prepare it for a big jump.  I glanced nervously again at Jill, saw her waiting, watching.  Like a child mounting a big bed, I lifted my knees and planted them on the sofa.  My bottom waggled with fright.  My thighs seemed to jiggle like jello.  I spread them wide as I felt my boobies dancing on my chest, my breath coming in quick, short gasps as I knew I was dooming myself to enormous suffering.  Biting hard on the cock that was jammed in my mouth, I lay down over the soft pillows.  My hips pressed hard into them, trying to smoosh them down to the level of the sofa itself.  It was no use.  There were too many of them, they were too well selected, firm in their softness, meant to keep my ass up no matter how much I might buck or thrash upon them.  I dropped my chin to the sofa cushion.  I felt my saliva pool in my mouth.  Behind, I felt MaxÕs strong hands spread my legs wide.  Air caressed my offered cunt.  It would not be satisfied today, I guessed.  It was my bottom that was on display.  It felt good being offered up so to the air, easing the pain of the whip kisses that had been emblazoned upon it.  Lovingly Max bound my ankles wide apart to the two opposite legs of the couch.  There was no going back now.  He unfastened my wrists only to stretch them out before me and rebuckle them wide apart to the legs of the couch beyond my head.  When he was done I tried to arch up, found my bottom lifting only, a little, the rest of me bound fast to the sofa.  A friend of mine told me once of being bound so at a ski lodge, during her college break.  She was older than me, had babysitted me once, but been kind to me, not mean or demanding.  Sharing her private life with me, she said her boyfriend and some of his friends had tied her down to a couch like this, the snow blowing outside, their skis all propped up against the wall so they could do some indoor slopes instead.  She had been first, fucked and re-fucked.  Then her girlfriend had been put down, and fucked in turn.  It had been hard work, she said, taking all those cocks, but sheÕd not regretted it.  Afterward theyÕd gone skiing again, no one the wiser, all of them happy.  TheyÕd all been students at a Southern Baptist college, where even dancing was frowned upon.  If only her teachers and her mom and dad knew how sheÕd really spent her Christman vacation, sheÕd laughed, herself mostly being buggered the whole time.  Now it was my turn.  I watched with a mounting sense of trepidation as Max tied down Jill.  She mouthed her dildo, seeming to work her lips upon it, as a baby girl might suck a pacifier.  It kept her distracted, I supposed, as she felt her limbs affixed implacably to the sofa.  Both divans, IÕd noticed, were bolted to the floor.  Somebody knew us girls well.  We would not go easy.  Nobody likes having something stuck up their bottom, do they?  But it was necessary, I told myself.  It had to be done if I were ever to see myself as a true woman.  Nuns might escape it, but all the rest sooner or later had to succumb.  Better to get it over and done with as soon as you could, I figured.  Widen me, then.  Let it be done.  I must love men, for they surely loved me and would not let me get away with disdaining them.  
	With my heart beating wildly, I watched as Max went to the wall and took down a leather belt.  Another hung waiting beside it.  At first I thought he was going to whip me again, and I drew in my bottomcheeks in apprehension.  Instead he bent low and threaded the belt beneath my tummy.  He buckled it at the small of my back.  The steel of the buckle was cold.  Why a belt, I wondered, if I was not to be given pants?  Max opened the drawer of the nightstand and drew out a small chain.  I saw it split into two at about the mid-point, and that where it remained a single chain it had a big ring placed in it, much larger than the other links of the chain, which were tiny.  I felt the chain touch my skin.  Max draped it into the furrow of my bottom.  The big ring, I realized, as he drew the ends of the chain beneath me, the split ends, settled right over my butthole.  It was small, hidden, withdrawn, but pulling on the chain, Max caused the big ring to part my asscheeks and show my hole more easily.  They were yanked apart already, from my posture, but now as the ring impressed itself between my two nether cheeks it forced them wider apart, and my recessed bottomhole was made more available.  I tensed, tried to keep its dimpled privacy all to myself.  Max hooked the split ends of the chain to the front of my belt, feeling beneath me for the snaps.  I found that the split chains ran down thru my nest and joined up only after bypassing my cunt.  Max could take me there if he wished, without the chains preventing him.  Ah, how odious it was!  The chains were apart where they might have saved me in front, yet in behind, where the chains became one, the big ring spread me to insure that something could be forced up my bottom!
	Jill watched, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered in turn.  Max got my three chain tails all snapped to my belt, two tails in front, one behind.  The ring brooded more deeply between my slumbering cheeks.  The O of my bottomhole remained snug, private, but not for much longer.  Along the lips of my cunny the twin chains passed, infuriatingly bypassing my cunt, my clitty.  Yet at the same time they squeezed a little upon my cunt lips, from the outside, as if promising to make me happy, yet failing miserably.
	Max added a final sheen of vaseline to the huge cock intended for my little hole.  He grinned down at me, an executioner regarding his victim with barely-suppressed glee.  ÒYouÕre going to feel this right up to your bellybutton,Ó he assured me, making my heart pound ever faster.  ÒTry not to move once itÕs in you.  ItÕs going to be something your bodyÕs never had to deal with before.  DonÕt hurt yourself trying to fight it.  You wonÕt be able to have it out until I say so.Ó  He bent down then, waving the bulletheaded monster once before my eyes to truly frighten me, and he grabbed my asscheeks and pulled them apart with brutal disregard for my body or its limits.  I felt the flanged tip of the beast hard against my anus.  I jerked in my bonds.  He laughed.  I arched up to try to escape.  It was my undoing.  The movement shafted the mighty thing right into me, his hand pressing hard.  I shrieked.  He worked it deeper.  
	No, no, no, I breathed and coughed over my gag.  But it was a penis gag in my mouth, mocking me, filling me, so that I could not speak.  In my behind I felt the dildo pressed harder and harder, opening me despite my will, ramming ever more vigorously into my ass.  In truth I think he might have taken many minutes, urging it slowly, but it all seemed to coalesce in my mind, one long moment of unending agony as he made me take something bigger and bolder in my bottom than IÕd ever even dreamed of in my wildest, most nightmarish fantasies.  And there were bigger still to come, I knew.  This was just the first, the ÔeasyÕ one, in the mind of those who would have me prepared for a roomful of lusty army boys.  Jill watched with ever more fearful eyes.  I did not wish to look at her, did finally, staring at her as I felt myself impaled in back.  Up my gut he pushed his wicked thing, his own cock still standing by, readier than ever, waiting its turn.  At last I felt myself split utterly wide, all the way up me.  I think he might have stopped short, so as not to hurt me, but I only found that out later, as we ate breakfast together the next morning.  The ring that had first broached the cheeks of my fanny was now tightened around the fake cock so that I could not expel it.  (I could not, in any event, it was so imposing, but I might have worked it back a little, in time, through involuntary movements of my muscles.)  To assure that it would stay right up me, far as it could go, the cock was clamped with the ring.  It fit around one of many little grooves in the cock, each subtle groove being there just for the purpose, so that a girl like myself could be penetrated to any depth and then firmly kept there.
	Jill was fitted with a belt of her own.  She tried to lie still, but I could see her wrists twisting in their bonds and her mouth sucking hard on her penis-gag, to try to release some of her tension and fright.  Injudiciously I moved my bottom just a little and a sharp cry of alarm was forced involuntarily from my throat.  My whole body was captive to that awful thing up my ass!  I could not move at all, except perhaps my head, without that horrible penetrating thing threatening to tear my guts out!  I lay panting over the sofa.  Oh, let me up now please, IÕve had my punishment, done my duty.  Jill was buggered slowly by Max, who ignored me for the time being.  I felt I might black out.  How could I have gotten myself into such a predicament?  I prayed there wasnÕt an earthquake.  My poor little body wouldnÕt survive it.  
	When we were both fully fitted, Max sat down between us.  He stroked his cock a little.  I think it was to assauge the terrible longing he felt there, in his privates.  Then he began comforting us.  For hours he patted and stroked and kissed us, like a young boy with his first love.  Never have I felt so cherished, even as I endured the agony of having the monster cock up my butt.  He weighed each of my breasts in his hands, cupping them, squeezing them gently again and again, milking them, it seemed, as I lay panting and crying from my torture.  He ran his calloused fingers along my satiny inner thighs, tickling my clitoris like it were my belly-button, and I a laughing little girl.  ÔDonÕt make me cum,Õ I begged, for the thrashing of orgasm would have torn up my insides.  He brought me close, desisted, taunted me more.  I moaned and prayed to be left alone, yet when he turned to Jill I wanted him back.
	Never have I had such male attention.  He licked my bottom with his tongue, testing the fit of the cock in my anus with his tonguetip.  Jill too received the same treatment.  He massaged my split-open cheeks, applied cream to my whip marks.  I hardly felt them now, the dick up my fanny was so all-encompassing.  If only I could be back home, or at school, sitting primly at my desk before the teacher, thinking of numbers, the alphabet, cursive writing, nouns and pronouns and beginning algebra!  Yet, somehow, calculating numbers in my head, I think I might wind up measuring the jock strap size of the boy sitting behind me, who pulled on my ponytails.  Oh, what we girls get ourselves into when we stop being ourselves and start noticing boys!  Let me be little always, ensconsed in my room with my mommie at the door, watching me do my homework, teddy beside me, nude in his fur but without any sporting appendages, carefully neutered.
	Our gags were removed.  ÒHow are you doing, girls?Ó Max asked us in a mocking tone.  We both gasped out our breaths, moaned a little, could say nothing.  It was too horrible.  He fed us cookies and milk then, fetching the milk from somewhere, as if to tease us about our lost innocence.  I had to lap up my milk from the cup he held to my chin.  He would not let me drink it.  I could not have, anyway.  Little lapping sips were all I could manage in my distended state.
	ÒI must destroy whatever conception might have taken place in your wombs at the wedding,Ó Max told us after feeding us our cookies.  He made us stick out our tongues and placed on each one a pill.  RU-486.  WeÕd had too many men at the wedding.  Not by choice, of course, but to satisfy the fantasies of Sam and Emily and the others there.  I swallowed my pill.  Jill swallowed hers.  Next Max made us each swallow a birth control pill.  We were being put back on the pill, he said, for our stay here was for pleasure and training only, not for the purpose of bearing young.  When IÕd swallowed my pill Max fed me his penis.  I wanted the gag back.  It was small compared to his member.  He urged himself into me.  I fought it a little, but was too weak from being over the couch to resist sufficiently.  He urged himself in deep, then back and forth.  I could see he wanted desperately to cum.  At last he withdrew.  Jill, her face stained with tears, lifted her eyes and regarded him.
	ÒMax,Ó she said.  ÒI know Sam is watching, and you must please Mistress.Ó  Jill let out a short cry.  SheÕd moved her fanny a little, or perhaps her tummy, and felt anew the hugeness of the cock up her ass.  She recovered, and continued.  ÒDonÕt torture yourself so, Max,Ó she urged him.  ÒLet yourself cum.  We wonÕt tell.  Perhaps Sam is not watching now, or if he is, shoot and then pull out before youÕve lost your size.  He wonÕt know, if you do it just so.  Let me help you.Ó  She parted her lips, opened her mouth.  She let her tongue loll on the lower lip of her mouth.  Lightly, though it caused her to scream out briefly again, she shook her head, tossing the blonde strands of her hair away from her eyes.
	Max went to her then, like a supplicant boy approaching the altar of his lust.  He bent his knees and introduced his cock into her mouth.  She cried out and tossed her head again to let her long blonde locks fall concealingly over her face.  Sam would not see, would not know, what happened next.  Max thrust himself into her, letting his organ feel the sensuousness of her lips and tongue upon him.  In his face I could see he was urging himself to pee his cum into her, to rid himself of his awful load that so swelled his balls and thickened his cock.  Looking through the camera, they would not see him quite so intimately as I did.  They would not catch the subtle change in his features.  With glad-hearted strokes he pounded JillÕs mouth, enjoying her, letting her lead him sometimes, he leading at other moments.  Actually it did not last too long.  He had waited for hours for this chance, and he prayed to himself to let go, let go, let go...  It was hard after so many hours of manfully holding back.  
	And then it happened.  You would have to have been as close as I was to realize it.  With guilty pleasure he flexed his bottomcheeks and jetted his essence into Jill.  With the skill of a married woman she took him all, losing just a little.  It dribbled down her chin and I wished I could run and lick it off, to save them both from the wrath of Mistress Lalique.  Was she taping all this?  Would she replay it later and discover it then, watching us in slow motion?  I hoped not.  As soon as he was done Max withdrew, his cock not yet deflated.  Quickly he wiped his sperm off JillÕs chin with her own lovely blonde hair.  
	There were not any pants for Max to put on, so he went to the wall and took down a leather belt.  He put it on.  Then he took a chain, clipped it to the front of his belt, and wound its length down around his softening penis.  He drew the chain beneath himself, over his balls, splitting the nuts apart, and then passed it up through his buttcrack.  He attached it to the back of his belt.  Turning around to face us, it looked for all the world as if heÕd bound up his huge schlong to avoid the temptation of fucking us.  He grinned.  It was our little secret.  He let us up then, removing the huge cocks first, then taking off our belts, finally unpinning our legs and arms.  He had to lift me bodily from my couch.  Jill tried to get up, collapsed.  Gently Max stood her up and helped her get her feet planted firmly on the floor.
	I looked at Jill.  She looked at me.  We were still hot with our need.  Suddenly I flopped back down onto the sofa, so recently the scene of my torment, and threw open my legs just as wide as theyÕd been before.  This time, though, I made sure I got my hands beneath myself.  I turned my face so that my cheek rested comfily on the sofa seat.  With my bottom over the pillows, my hips resting atop them, my belly churning, I touched my fingers to my clit.
	Jill smiled.  Unsteadily she bent forward, Max holding her, and she kissed my face.  Then she kissed each of my bottomcheeks.  She raised her hand.  I began to frig myself.  ÒNaughty!Ó she gasped, her voice hoarse from her screaming, and she slapped my fanny as hard as she could with her hand.
	When my spanking was over, and my need released, she took my place.  I gave her as good as IÕd gotten.  She let out shouts of joy, mingled with pain, as she masturbated her clit to fulfillment.  Max led us upstairs then, holding us, helping us walk, and put cream on our bottoms for us and then tucked us in bed.  We slept all day, knowing we must start all over again the next morning.
	That night we went skinny dipping in the pool.  Max did not fuck us, we simply played together, for he knew he must be hard as steel the next morning for the cameras in the basement.  It was special, the three of us running and splashing in the moonlight.  I felt like a fishtailed mermaid, and wished for a tail, to keep me from ever being fucked in my bottom again.  But it was not to be and, at last, we retreated to bed, where we lay awake, watching the moon pass by us in the window, leaving only the stars at last to twinkle in on us.  We spent the long night touching each other, like children in a sleeping bag.  It was sensuous, just touching.  As the dawn loomed we fell asleep for a little while, resting for the torments of the day ahead.
	
	Jill sat down nude at breakfast.  She ate delicately with her knife and fork.  She shifted on her seat.  Her bottom still hurt a little from yesterday, as did mine.  Her pancakes were syrupy.  I could see she was eating as daintily as she could, so as not to drip on her softly stirring bosoms.  She had large ones.  They dangled over her plate, her nipples threatening to dip themselves in her eggs and syrup.
	I ate with equal care.  We were all fresh and showered, our hair fixed, our makeup perfect.  We could not dally long at breakfast.  The watching eyes would be waiting for us in the dungeon, expecting us, counting off the minutes we were late, promising vengeance.  Jill looked up at Max.
	ÒMax,Ó she said suddenly.  ÒI donÕt want a big house anymore.Ó
	He turned.  He was gorgeous in his nudity.  His big pole stood out from his loins, all hard and ready for us.  ÒIt is too late--Ó he began.
	ÒI just want you, Max, thatÕs all,Ó Jill said.  She took off her wedding band.  She tossed it at him.  Then, reaching for my hand, surprising me, she drew off my own ring, me watching with utmost reluctance, and tossed that at Max too.  The rings landed on the floor, at his feet.  Casually he stepped on them, looked up at us.  ÒYou escaped from prison, didnÕt you?Ó she asked Max.  ÒEscape from here.  Lead us away.Ó
	ÒI cannot get out,Ó Max answered.
	ÒYou canÕt, or you wonÕt?Ó Jill asked.
	ÒI---Ó Max began.  ÒWe have everything here we need for our pleasure.  All you have to do is agree to have your bottoms widened.  And I must stay hard, of course, not difficult, really.  I could have fucked you last night.  But I want to look my best for the women on the T.V.  I have mixed loyalties, you see.Ó  He grinned.  Such a rogue!  Here he was, living with us, making love to us, yet he cared only a little for us, in the end.  He saw us as victims, nothing more.  Just bodies to be broken and trained.
	ÒAlright, Max, but donÕt say I didnÕt ask,Ó Jill relented, returning to her food.
	ÒIÕm a well kept man,Ó Max replied.  He sat down and began eating.  ÒYou see, when you are both gone, other girls will be brought.  I have nothing to gain in your love.  I donÕt need love.  Just sex.Ó  He grinned at Jill.  He watched with amusement her young bosoms as they jiggled freely over her syrupy plate.  ÒI might clamp those today,Ó he said.
	Jill shivered.  ÒI hate you, Max.Ó
	ÒYou girls are so unpredictable,Ó Max laughed.  ÒIt is for the best.  A masochist should not love her sadist.  She should fear him.  IÕve been too easy on you girls.Ó
	ÒPlease, Max,Ó I begged.  ÒDonÕt hurt us anymore.  That was awful, yesterday, lying over that couch, however much you might have tried to make love to us and comfort us.  My bottom still hasnÕt recovered!Ó  I felt my heinie sitting on my seatcushion.  It nether cheeks spread out on it.  My hole still felt violated, all these hours later.
	ÒIt isnÕt supposed to recover,Ó Max replied suavely, eating his eggs, cutting his bacon.  ÒYour hole will shrink back to its normal size if it isnÕt pried further apart each day, until finally it gives up and becomes more accessible, for all time.  We must return to the basement and begin again.  I promised Mistress Lalique, and thereÕs no way you girls can escape it, so you may as well accomodate yourselves to it, in a manner of speaking.Ó  He laughed a big, hearty laugh, that made his penis wiggle between his legs like a feisty pogo-stick.  I could see it all, under the table, for it had no tablecloth upon it, being as uncovered as we ourselves were.  I truly hated him then.  But I knew I could do absolutely nothing about it.
	We ate our breakfast in silence.  Outside, through the screen door, songbirds sang out their mating calls and went digging for worms in the soil to feed their nestlings.  When we were done we took our dishes to the sink and dumped them in.  Jill and I would have walked away, but Max stood behind us and made us wash them.  We had to wash his too.  He did not help us.  Then, as we dried our hands on the dishtowel, he got the key to take us downstairs.  He led us to the cellar door and opened it.  I felt a rush of cool air on my skin, Jill just behind me, touching my back apprehensively.  Again I was made to go first, stepping into the darkness.  Max switched on a light for me after he entered.  I made my way down the stairs, no railing to help me, my ass jiggling and me still feeling the impression the dildo had made yesterday in my backside.  The whip marks were almost completely faded.  But, last night in the pool, as we floated on our backs under the stars, heÕd promised us that each day would be a little harsher, a little more demanding, in all its aspects, not just in the size of the dildo we were required to take.  IÕd accepted it then, not caring, knowing that morning was still hours away.  Now his words haunted me.  
	At the bottom of the stairs I undid the gate latch again, lifting it up, letting the gate swing open to admit me.  Jill followed.  Hidden cameras tracked our progress.  Max closed and locked the gate behind us.  
	ÒTo the couch?Ó Jill asked, turning to him.  Her eyes were expectant.  The tips of her breasts were traitorously erect.  Max nodded.  Quietly she turned away and took my hand.  I sought reassurance, found none.  She was as scared as I was.  We were not playing today.  This would be for real, the damage to our bottoms not yet healed as we were stretched even further.
	With graceful, meek steps, sometimes nervously on our tiptoes, we proceeded through the dungeon.  At the back the twin sofas waited.  Freshly cut flowers, droplets of dew still clinging to them, stood in the vase on the nightstand.  Briefly I admired Max for remembering such a thoughtful, feminine touch amidst all this male-inspired madness.  How had he managed it?  I had not seen him cutting the flowers, yet there they were, and neatly arranged too, as if heÕd spent time learning floral skills when he was in prison.  Yes, he was just a convict, weÕd learned, floating in the pool, shivering at the stories heÕd told us of his days in prison.  Now he was out by the governorÕs permission for good behavior.  But still half-captive, under house arrest, and used by Mistress Lalique for her wicked designs.
	ÒAlright girls, letÕs be quick about it.  IÕve got other things to do today, like mow the lawn,Ó Max said.  He was housekeeper here too.  No maids or servants were provided for prisoners.  But would he leave us alone down here?  A sudden dread filled me at that thought.  Just Jill and I, bound and gagged, the cameras watching, prying?  What if we needed something?  Surely he could not abandon us.  Jill and I turned, looked back over our slim bare shoulders at him.  We unclasped our hands.  From the look on his face you could see he would brook no nonsense this morning.  He had taken a braided whip from the wall upon closing the gate and it terrified me.  HeÕd not stuck us with it, but he sometimes made us start with flicks of the whip against the furniture-like machines in the dungeon.
	I bumped my knees to my couch.  Jill contemplated hers.  Twin dildos, larger still than yesterdayÕs, stood erectly on the nightstand.  They were already greased.  If only I could have been tried again with yesterdayÕs cock, I might have found it easier this morning, but no, today I must have bigger still, by order of my unseen masters.  Were they watching me?  Did they care?  Or was I just the newest bottom to submit to their horrid desires?  I bent, let my ass cheeks show more fully to whoever might be looking.  I stroked the sofa where I must soon lay.  I jumped suddenly.  Max had struck something again.  Not me, not yet.  Hastily I decided to get on my couch, to comply, to open myself and behave and been seen to do my best to obey.  Jill had the same inspiration.  A moment later we each lay over our pillows, our hands in place, our legs duly apart, waiting to receive.  Max bound us down with the straps affixed to the legs of the couch for the purpose.  He seemed to somehow tie me wider this morning, make me even more open.  I did not protest.  I would need every ounce of openness I had in me to even think of taking such a huge cock as now stood on the nightstand.  I urged my butthole to unclench itself and bloom wide before the bulletheaded monster.  Yet, squirming over the pillows, I knew it was just about as snug as it had been yesterday, a little bit opened perhaps, soon to close up completely again if it were not forced anew.
	Jill and I shared self-pitying glances.  Max buckled us into our belts, threading us with the chains so that we would not be able to expel the gifts which soon would pierce our backsides.
	ÒPlease Max, spare us,Ó Jill whispered to him.  ÒIÕll do anything for you.Ó
	ÒYou will indeed,Ó Max chortled.  He was truly evil, I realized.  Then he took her assigned cock from the nightstand, hers a little bigger than mine because she was older, and sat down beside her.  He put the bullet-shaped penis to her anus and pushed.  She gave a brief cry of alarm as she felt it intrude.  ÒOpen yourself, bitch!Ó Max snarled.  He had less patience today.  He worked the cock into her, pushing and shoving, not caring as she cried out in terror and pain.  I donÕt think he truly harmed her, except for opening her more, but it was his manner, so callous this morning, that made her bleat with renewed misgivings and fright.  When she was properly impaled he sewed the cock up tight in the ring, then turned to me.  
	ÒNo!Ó I shouted.  I strove to break free of my bonds.  It was then I knew why the straps on the couches had looked so sturdy to me.  Stronger women than I had tried to break free, all to no avail.  Fruitlessly I wiggled about as he sat down, slapped my ass, and then buggered me with the fake cock.  He did not care that I screamed.  Softly Jill wept beside me, feeling used, forgotten, unwanted.  With prolonged, penetrating thrusts, perhaps treating me a little more gently than Jill due to my youth, just past the edge of puberty, still so young in the world, he got me open and the cock up me.  It took awhile, and many screams later I found myself panting over the pillows, my bottom bruisingly wide apart, squeezing desperately on the dildo, yet tiring rapidly.  As he stood I gave up and relaxed.  My derriere, so plump and cute, had a sheen of sweat on it.  I could feel it drying fast as I lay breathless and exhausted over my pillows.
	ÒTry to sleep,Ó he said, patting my head.  ÒI cannot be with you today.  It will all be over in a few hours.Ó  He turned, taking his glorious cock with him, and left me alone with Jill.
	We waited in the darkness.  He turned out the lamp before leaving to encourage us to forget and sleep.  I closed my eyes, squeezed them.  I still had strength to do that.  Letting my tongue fall out of my mouth I felt more at ease in my bonds, or tried to.  I was feminine, female.  I must receive.  I must, or the things put into my ass each day would eventually kill me.  I must take them, and not protest.  I would suffer more than that, swelling someday with male seed, birthing a child.  This was just a test run to that.  A simple thing, really, I told myself.  Turds can go out.  Why canÕt a fake cock go in?  But men never did such things, did they, despite shitting out bigger turds than us girls every day of their lives.  Bitterly I clenched my teeth and tried to fall asleep.  Beside me, in the darkness, Jill sniffled and tried to do the same.
	I was awakened with a tap on my shoulder.  Immediately I became aware of a huge presence up my little heinie, splitting it apart, making me adjust myself to it.  I shouted at my realization of where I was.  In the dungeon still, with Max awakening me by bending his knees and whacking my shoulder with his cock.  It was stiff still, making him ache with need, but he could not serve us as we wished, because of the cameras.  He unbuckled the penis from my bottom-impaling belt.  With cautious squeezings of my heinie, feeling all sore and raw inside, I helped him free me from the awful cock.  He raised it up when it was finally expelled and made me look at it in the light of the lamp.  ÒYour shit is almost as pretty as you are,Ó he told me sardonically.  ÒLetÕs see what JillÕs looks like.Ó  With urgent helpfulness she contorted and contracted her fanny to assist Max in withdrawing the dildo.  Then he held up her contribution.  Its odor wafted out on the air.  Max dropped the dildo in a bucket of water mixed with alcohol to prepare it for its next bottom.  Then he took the braided whip and, not striking us hard enough to mar us, for we had been good, he flogged our distended bottoms to revive them and get them back into shape.  Apparently he didnÕt want us opened too quickly.  We churned upon our pillows, clenching our heinies against the whip, tightening ourselves as best we might as he threatened to strike us right in our hiney holes.  He left us confused and crying, our bottoms in a state no girl would ever want anyone to see.  Red marks of the lash burned across them and our holes gulped in air, still breached and cloven from the sodomy.  We wriggled like fish in our bonds, suffering so, our tears flooding out over our cheeks, wettening the seat of the couch beneath our faces.  I longed for panties.  I had not worn them in days.  To be safely wrapped up in them, even little girl ones, with dumb teddy bears on them, would have been a relief for me at this stage in my training.  Even Underwear thatÕs Funtowear, that IÕd chucked out my bedroom window some years back, to show my mother how grown up I was, would be something IÕd have settled for now, as I lay over the couch.  Instead, not comforting me in the least, Max introduced his penis to my mouth and made me suck it.  I wanted to bite it, but all my energy was being put into desperately trying to assauge my bottom by moving it around.  Jill was just as active, shaking her heinie like she was the star of her own strip show, mouthing at the air with her lips.  She let herself enjoy an outburst of tears, not caring how unladylike she looked.  When IÕd been made to favor MaxÕs huge popsicle-like cock he took it over to her, and she was put to it just as callously as I had.  She did not offer to ease his erection today.  We hated him too much.
	We were untied from the couch.  We were taken upstairs, shaking like children going for shots.  Max had to help us walk.  He put us to bed, shutting the door behind us.  Jill and I snuggled tightly into each otherÕs arms.  We spent the next hours consoling each other, whispering, nuzzling, licking.  At last in a frenzy of feminine lust we made each other cum.  We did it in 69, finding the strength at last to assume such a position, me above, more frisky, she below, receiving me with motherly warmth.  My tongue fucking her, hers doing mine, we cried out our pleasure together.  Down below our open bedroom window Max worked with a weedeater, doing his chores.  His pole stuck up obscenely as he worked naked in the hot sun, spinning out the line of his weedeater machine.  I hoped he would cut his prick off with it, but he didnÕt.  Later he showered and joined us in the bed, but we were asleep by then.
	When night came we rose and swam together in the pool.  It was lit by starlight.  Max retained his erection still.  In the stillness of the night we offered to help him get rid of it.  We loved him more at night, I think, forgiving his transgressions of the day.  He relented at last.  We took turns sucking him beneath the surface of the pool until at last he added his own liquid to the cool waters.

	Morning came, and we shared breakfast again.  We ate snacks sometimes by the pool at night, but this had become our main meal.  It was best, Max said, to eat in the morning, so weÕd have energy for the day ahead.  Then he took us downstairs, this time selecting a cat oÕ nine tails to keep us keen on obeying.  Before taking to the couches, he made us sit down on an unfolded towel.  It felt fuzzy and soft against my trembling heinie.  I saw a bottle of baby powder sitting nearby, but I donÕt think it was meant for us.  I longed to reach out, take it, and pamper my fanny with it.  Instead I sat watching Max as he walked to the nightstand, his buns tight as could be, his balls drawn up with new seed inside them, his penis waggling like a dogÕs tail.  ÒDong,Ó I said aloud, watching him walk back toward us.  Jill suppressed a giggle, unsuccessfully.  We were giddy suddenly, in our fear.  I lay back on my elbows, let myself relax a little, my eyes still on Max and his mighty organ.
	Max held aloft a needle and I at once lost my sense of humor.  ÒGirls, this is Quinine, a muscle relaxant,Ó he told us, quite seriously.  ÒToday you will have to take the largest dildos yet, even bigger than yesterday, and this will help you.  I want each of you to inject the other with it, to show your acceptance of what must be done to you.  Of course, should you refuse, we can begin with a well-laid on whipping.  ItÕs why I brought the cat with me today.  Sometimes girls try to be brave and say ÔnoÕ to me.  ItÕs not a wise decision, and they soon regret it.  But if you wish to try to prove your mettle against me, go ahead.  Otherwise,Ó he said, ominously dangling the whip so that its tails tickled my nipples, ÒGet your shots.Ó  
	Alas!  I had felt like a child going to the doctor this morning, and now I knew it had not just been some idle premonition.  Jill stood up, brushed her hair back from her face, and took the injection needle from Max.  He handed her a bottle of alcohol and a cotton swab.  Holding the needle as one might a cigarette, she got the cap off the alcohol and wet the cotton with it.  I stood.  I showed Jill my arm.  I felt like running away but I was so scared I felt my knees lock once I was up.  I stood shaking, my eyes wide, a rabbit in headlights.  Jill was trembling a little too, for as soon as I was done it would be her turn.
	ÒNot in the arm, stupid.  In the ass,Ó Max told me.  ÒBend right over.  Show her your fanny and donÕt be a baby about it.  What do you think, that IÕm going to put the dildo in your arm?  LetÕs go!Ó  
	I couldnÕt move.  I thought Max might slap me when Jill, touching my back, somehow eased me over, bending me in the middle.  I remembered our 69 together and tried to imagine that we were going to do that again.  I offered her the fig of my cunt as I bent low and touched the floor with my fingertips.  She stroked my bottom with the alcohol.  Then I felt a quick jab in my flank.  I howled.  I wanted to bolt upright but I knew I mustnÕt.  With all my strength I gripped my toes and contented myself with wiggling my tits.  At last the needle was withdrawn.  SheÕd injected me very slowly, almost sensuously.  She wiped away the tiny dot of blood left behind by the needle, using the cotton swab.
	I stood up and my hands flew to my bottom.  I assauged it as best I could, rubbing it, and feeling the warmth of the quinine begin to spread across it.  When I finally let go of myself Jill handed me the needle, the alcohol, and a new swab of cotton, offered to her by Max.  I took the items with frightened hands.  IÕd never done this before!  
	ÒTry not to shake,Ó Jill told me, and bent over.  I swabbed her carefully, doing the area Max pointed out to me, just off to the side of her plump fleshy cheek, on the right.  Then, steeling myself against my fright, remembering how it hurt when she poked me, I stuck her in turn.  She helped.  Her back arched, she caught herself.  Her bosoms hung heavily beneath her.  When at last IÕd shot all the injection fluid into her I withdrew the needle and she stood.
	ÒRub yourself, make yourself ready for it,Ó Max said to Jill.  He went to the nightstand and began greasing up our new dildos.  I looked at them with wonder.  They were gigantic.  They looked like twin nuclear missiles standing side by side, and I didnÕt doubt that they could do at least as much damage to a girl as radiation could.
	Max finished preparing the dildos and led each of us in turn to our couch.  The pillows were fresh, there were new dew-laden flowers on the nightstand.  Violets.  I hoped my butt wouldnÕt be the same color as them when I was returned to my bed upstairs.  We were each buckled down, and received our butt-widening belts.  Then the work of the dildos began.  We were gouged with them.  We began crying almost at once as they were crammed up our hineyholes.  Max worked with judicious slowness this morning.  The penises were so big that even he had to show us some consideration.  He rubbed our bottoms now and then to make sure the quinine took full effect.  I felt my hole stretched beyond belief.  I struggled a little to try to free myself, knew it was fruitless, contented myself at last with bawling my head off.  
	We were left to sob to ourselves.  Max departed, his work done.  Somewhere cameras whirred and inspected his handiwork.  He had succeeded.  Jill and I were gorged upon the obscene cocks.  They did not belong in girlÕs bottoms, yet somehow Max had got them up us.  I turned to Jill.  I felt like Christ on the cross.  
	ÒI love you,Ó I wept.  
	ÒI love you too,Ó she replied.  We lay in our bonds.  Now and then, moving incautiously, a slight shift of our hips, a too-quick turn of our heads, and one of us would blurt out a shrill cry of alarm.  The rude penis up each of our butts was a frightening agony.  I was sure I would never be the same, and I was certain Mistress Lalique wished that it should be so.
	When Max returned and removed the dildos, I felt I could not close myself in back.  Easily he passed his finger into me, testing me.  How slightly I resisted his passage!  He checked Jill next.  ÒSoon, soon it will be permanent,Ó he told us.  He seemed to savor the prospect.  ÒTomorrow I will have enough room to begin phase two of your training.  Each day, after the dildos are removed, I will fuck each of you up the butt.  Gently the first time, less so each day afterward, until at last you can receive a butt-hammering fucking without being torn or harmed by it.  It is my reward, girls, for breaking you in.Ó  He slapped my fanny, then untied my wrists.  He permitted me the freedom of masturbating myself over the pillows, with just my ankles bound to the couch, as he whipped me lightly with the cat.  He promised the whippings on ensuing days would be stricter, more admonitory, though I might still frig myself while he did it.  Jill got the same treatment.  With glowing red bottoms we were put on our feet at last, and taken upstairs.

	Jill and I both visited the potty as the afternoon sun teased the horizon.  When we had both wiped, Jill suggested I let her check my bottom.  Standing before the bathroom mirror, I parted my cheeks for her.  
	ÒYes,Ó she said, tracing her fingertip in a circle over my anus.  I clenched it, scared.  
	ÒWhatÕs happened?Ó I asked.
	ÒYouÕre a little less tight, maybe, though I canÕt tell for sure,Ó she said.  She poked me.  I yelped.  My bottomcheeks flexed and rebounded.  She laughed.  ÒOh, we still are tight-bottomed, I think, both of us,Ó she said.  ÒHere, check mine.  I want to know too.Ó  She turned around and vented herself at me.  I knelt and jabbed lightly at her fundament with my finger, finding her hole receptive, but rubbery still, clinging to my finger as I pulled back from it.
	ÒWhat do you think?Ó I asked.
	ÒI think we both need more still,Ó she answered.  ÒI mean, I donÕt want it, but if Sam wishes to use us both with ease...Ó
	ÒI know,Ó I answered.  I stood up.  We faced each other and clasped in a sudden embrace.  
	ÒWe must be women!Ó she breathed into my mouth.  
	ÒYes,Ó I answered.  ÒWe must, mustnÕt we?Ó  Furtively we felt for each otherÕs nests and played with each other there, standing naked in the bathroom, freshly wiped from our toilet.  Max found us kissing and took us to the bed and spanked us both over his knee, one of us waiting while the other was smaked, me first, then Jill, then me again, and her again, for good measure.  He made us both suck him off afterward, under the concealing sheets of the bed.  I think the camera must have noticed, but he did not care.  He was desperate.  I was pretty sure heÕd be forgiven.  A little spurt now and then, in the company of such beautiful girls, must surely be permitted.

	We awoke the next morning with new resolve.  We stood in the bathroom after our shower, Jill and I alone, Sam downstairs.  Together we made each other up, carefully, knowing that this would be the day we really began to feel the effects of our training.  We brushed out each otherÕs hair, not just our long locks but our nests too, for the camera saw our cunts just as easily, if not more easily, than our faces.  Then we trooped downstairs, and found Max flipping flapjacks in the kitchen.
	ÒI can do that, Max,Ó Jill said helpfully.  
	ÒAlright,Ó Max answered.  He handed her the skillet.  We were all nude, the cool morning air fresh upon our bodies.  I felt new and alive in the world.  I would be made a woman today.  Max left the room and came back with a bottle of champagne.
	ÒOh, Max, whatÕs that for?Ó Jill asked, happily surprised at the treat. A champagne breakfast!  He was treating us this morning!  I beamed at him.  He could be a gentleman, after all.
	ÒI want you girls a little drunk this morning,Ó Max said.  His words made our tummies tighten, not to mention our bottoms!  ÒYouÕre definitely going to feel open after today,Ó he said.  ÒThe cocks IÕve got to put in you today actually expand and contract.  TheyÕll be big as hell to start with, and then, once embedded, theyÕll widen themselves and shrink, not shrinking too much, of course, just back to their normal size.  Widening and shrinking again and again, theyÕll really give your bumholes a workout.  Too much of a workout, I imagine, which is the whole point of it.  YouÕll be left changed afterward, not much at first, but more so with each passing day.Ó  Jill and I looked at each other.  She held the flapjacks over the flame of the oven, not noticing that she was burning them.  I felt my bottomcheeks tense uncontrollably and knew hers must be doing the same.  Except for the hiss of the burning pancakes there was nothing but shocked silence in the room.  Max gazed at us, enjoying our fear.  At last he laughed and took the pancake skillet from Jill.  ÒGo and sit down and start drinking that champagne,Ó he said.  ÒIÕll finish the flapjacks.  A toast to your bottoms, girls.  Enjoy sitting on them.  You may not be able to do it again for awhile.Ó  He laughed a hearty laugh then, long and luscious and utterly wicked.  Jill and I scurried to our seats and sat down on our bottoms hoping to never have to get up.  Max brought us the champagne a moment later, pouring out a glass for each of us.  I watched the liquid flow with entranced eyes.  Could I bear to be put to such a use as he contemplated?  Should I try to kill myself?  I think Jill was entertaining the same thoughts.  I took my glass of champagne and hastily gulped down the contents.  On the stove the flapjacks waited, the flame turned down to protect them.
	We ate our breakfast quietly, not saying anything, not eating, really, just nibbling a little.  I began to feel tipsy from the champagne.  Jill giggled, let Max refill her glass and drank it down to the dregs.  ÒI canÕt believe IÕm actually letting someone give me a bigger bottom,Ó she said aloud.  
	ÒJust the hole,Ó Max answered.  ÒIÕve no interest in making your pretty little ass lose its shape.  Just in getting myself up you more easily.Ó  He glanced at me.  ÒYouÕre lucky, to be doing it so young,Ó he told me.  ÒMen will prize you for your ease of use in the coming years.Ó  I shivered.  I knew men prized both tightness and ease, preferring to open a girl themselves if they might.  Should I wait.  I still loved Sam.  He wanted me bigger.  I must obey, mustnÕt I, if I truly loved him?  And I admired Max.  His ruthlessness, his refusal to be bargained with, try as Jill and I might sometimes, begging him out by the pool under the stars, praying to him to let us go, spinning wiles wherein he might be our slavemaster for life, if only heÕd spare us and take us away from here, though I knew in my heart weÕd escape him if he should fall for our tricks.  Girls do not like a man who does what they tell him.  Not in these circumstances.  Because they know they would never go through with it, except for his iron will.

	Max let us into the dungeon.  Apprehensively, knowing the condition weÕd be in when we departed it, we descended the stairs, all shivery and anxious, wishing Max would relent at last and take us away from here.  Implacably he followed us.  We alighted lightly onto the carpet, afraid to let our toes touch it.  Max placed a broad, warm palm on each of our bottoms and urged me to open the gate.  I could not.  Jill reached out at last and lifted the latch, a simple thing, yet I hadnÕt been able to, my hands shook so.  Max pushed us inside.  He took a martinet down from the wall.  It was stiff.  It would leave a mark just by touching us.  
	ÒI canÕt!Ó I cried suddenly.  Jill seized me.  I thought she would force me forward but instead she sought solace in my frail body by pressing her own against it.
	Suddenly I heard a tromping on the floor upstairs.  MaxÕs head darted upward, mine, JillÕs.  Heavy footsteps, businesslike, uncompromising as Max himself.  
	ÒGet down, hide somplace!Ó Max hissed.  Obediently Jill and I scampered behind the nearest machine, some hideous device of execution, and ducked down.  There was a pounding at the cellar door, and, moments later, it came crashing down the stairs, its hinges and lock broken.  Max, defenseless but for the martinet, strode over to the base of the steps.  A gunshot rang out and he and his glorious erection fell in a heap to the floor.  Jill and I screamed.  I screamed louder when I saw the figure coming down the stairs.  It was my father!
	ÒDaddy!Ó I shrieked.  I did not rise from behind the machine.  Instead I found myself gripping Jill, my nails digging painfully into her shoulder.  That he should find me here, bare-ass naked, having run away from home!  He would not believe my excuses.  He was not that kind of man.  Indulgent, maybe, but not to a fault like some dads.  
	Blushing and crying, squeezing my bottomcheeks guiltily, I was extracted by my father from behind the execution/sex machine.  He glared at me, then softened his features a little as he pulled out Jill along with me.
	ÒYour mother has been looking for you!Ó my father snapped at me.
	ÒI-I was kidnapped,Ó I said, all teary-eyed and blushing right down to my toes.  Other men trod down the steps now, wearing police badges.  I was in my birthday suit but my hair was all pretty and combed and my face was made up with makeup.  My nails, including my toenails, were painted to perfection.  There was a hint of rouge on my wiggly nipples.  Jill, yanked up beside me, had ribbons in her hair.
	ÒI heard you got married,Ó my father told me.  His voice was stern.  He gave my fanny a hard, uncompromising slap, making me shriek and clutch my bottom right there, in front of all those policemen.  He did not strike Jill, just me, making tears of shame come to my eyes.  ÒGet upstairs and put on your panties,Ó he told me.  ÒThen I want you outside in the car, pronto!Ó  
	I ran up the steps.  The policemen made way for me.  I was small and light, my legs flashing, my slim-hipped bottom jiggling and my newly grown tennis ball titties bouncing on my chest.  Jill followed, her bigger, heavier, womanÕs boobs jostling like over-ripe fruit, her mature bottom alarming the menÕs desire as she ran with it shaking heedlessly, all scared and embarassed as I was.
	Upstairs we found bikini bottoms, but no tops.  I guess Max had assumed we wouldnÕt need clothes anymore, just panties, perhaps, to cover us when we at last were freed.  He did not contemplate us being freed by my father.  Quickly we slipped into the swim panties and then fetched towels from the bathroom.  Blushingly we came downstairs again and were escorted by my father to his car.  
	Huddling in the back seat, I thanked my father silently in my heart for saving me from my foolishness.  Jill and I were both drunk, and had come so close to having our bottomholes permanently popped that I didnÕt even want to think about it.  She was dropped off at her condo.  My father went upstairs and fetched the things IÕd bought for myself in the meantime.  I waited downstairs in the car.  I did not try to get out or run away.  He returned shortly.  He drove me back home.  My mother greeted me at the door.  We did not kiss or hug or say hello.  I went upstairs to my room.  My teddy bear was waiting for me.  My father spoke briefly with my mother, then marched upstairs.  
	ÒTake off your panties,Ó he told me.  He held his trouser belt in his hands.  
	ÒBut,Ó I protested.  I had dropped my towel on the bed to hug my teddy.
	ÒGet them off, this minute, young lady!Ó he did not call me by name.  Weeplily I put down my teddybear.  I shrugged my bare shoulders, lifting my hands, my arms thin, awkward.  Slipping my hands into my panties I drew them down quickly.  I bent over as I slid down my panties, wondering if my dad would like seeing my seat.  Did he know how close it had come to being made receptive, like a womanÕs bottom?  Lightly, but with grave misgivings, my fanny flexing with fright, I stepped out of my panties.  I lifted them up and dropped them onto my bed.  My father stood behind me, admiring my cherub bottom.  
	ÒGod, you look just like your mother!Ó he said.  I flinched.  Like her?  She was 45, wrinkled, and flabby.  I turned.  My father stood stroking his belt but I wondered if he would rather have been stroking himself instead.  His trousers bulged.  ÒGet up on the bed,Ó he told me.  ÒKneel on it and stick your bottom out.  Let it overhang the edge.  Did your husband teach you to do this?  HeÕs in prison now, where he belongs, the pervert!Ó  
	I gasped.  Sam, in prison?  No!  How could it be so.  Feeling disconsolate within my fear, I knelt on my bed.  
	ÒOffer your bottom more,Ó my father told me.  ÒDip your back.  If you fancy yourself a married woman, IÕll make you present like one.Ó  Guiltily I let my chin drop a little.  I put a bow into my back, making my hind cheeks stand out more.  They were trim and firm and I wiggled them apprehensively.  My father had never seen me like this before.  Did he admire my tits?  They hung full and well-fleshed beneath me, proud titties, ones a girl might show off at the beach.  My cunny offered itself to him, but I guessed he tried his best to keep his eyes on my ass.
	And then my father, who had never in his life laid a hand on me, asked me a very strange question.  His throat sounded constricted as he spoke.  ÒHow hard do you want it?Ó he asked me.  
	ÒNot too hard,Ó I answered, feeling a quivering in my voice as I spoke.  My nipples felt like thorns on my breasts.  I feared they might tear the quilted bedcover as I let them graze their weight across it.  ÒBut hard enough,Ó I replied.
	ÒYou were a very bad girl, running away from me,Ó he said.  He did not mention my mother.  ÒI almost got killed rescuing you.Ó
	ÒI know, I know,Ó I wept.  
	And then he struck.  I started, feeling the sting, my eyes widening.  It burned across my bottomflesh, searing me, making me remember.  I had been so bad, to run away from him, to live with a drug dealer, to marry Sam without his knowledge or permission.  And I had spoilt the family name, too, letting myself be recorded on film for all time, embarassing my mom and dad in ways no one could ever erase.
	ÒAgain?Ó he asked me.  I recovered my balance, dipped my back again and lofted my bottom high for him.
	ÒPlease, and donÕt stop until IÕve learned my lesson,Ó I said with utmost certainty, wanting to be punished now, wanting to be made to behave.  I promised myself IÕd even wear my one-piece from now on, until my mother permitted me to have a bikini.  
	My father hit me again.  It was a practised stroke, I realized later, and knew somebody must have let him use her own body to train him.  I did not admit to myself who that was, though she stood downstairs, listening to my cries, weeping, no doubt, for it meant IÕd passed through childhood and was a teen now, being spanked for the first and last time by my father, who would never dare to order me out of my panties again, no matter what I did, for I was too big now for him to discipline like this.  My bosoms shook and my hiney bunched and churned.  I rocked on the bed as stripe after stripe was laid on my bottom.  The bed creaked knowingly, I tried to restrain my cries but shouted lustily at last, unable to control myself, wanting even to pee I was so nervous and drunk and excited.  At last my father threw down his belt and left me kneeling up on my bed, slamming my bedroom door behind myself as he stalked out.  
	I eased myself down onto the bedcover and lay there holding my bottom tight.  He had really given it too me, but had saved me from a worse fate still, at the hands of Mistress Lalique.  I prayed he did not know IÕd tattooed the inside of my cunny with her initial.  Oh, IÕd been so bad!  I deserved so much more from him, but he was gone now.  I lay in my bad for a long time, not daring to move.  I did not hear my mother and father downstairs.  They had to be in their bedroom, my innermost mind told me.  My father would not have been able to Ôkeep his council,Õ as it were, after seeing my nakedness.  He would need relief.  I did not let my mind delve further.
	When morning came my mother said we must go into town to buy me a proper swimsuit.  I thought she meant a one-piece, but found to my delight that she insisted I buy and wear bikinis from now on.  ÒYou must begin dating too, dear,Ó she told me on the way home.  ÒI was wrong to keep you cooped up for so long.Ó  She did not say more.  That afternoon, feeling liberated and free, I roamed the beach in my bikini, not looking for boys exactly, but not necessarily avoiding them either.  The house where my long-lost drug dealer boyfriend had once lived was empty now, with a ÔFor RentÕ sign on it.  Did my father know of my relations with him?  I did not know.  There was so much I did not know, and I hoped there was much he did not know either.  Or my mother, especially.
	I played in the waves along the beach and wondered about the future.  I let boys proposition me but turned them away at last, leaving them disappointed, skipping back home as the sun disappeared and not minding it, not minding it at all.  Dinner was waiting for me when I got home.  My parents had gone out.  I ate alone, for the first time without a babysitter to bug me, or my parents themselves lording over the dinnertable, asking about my homework, telling me what to do.  My mother, especially.  
	Later that evening Jill called.  She apologized, I told her there was no need for her to.  IÕd loved being with her.  She told me Sam was back home.  I spoke with him briefly.  He sounded as great as ever, but I didnÕt want to go back to him, not after what heÕd almost put us through in the dungeon.  Jill told me to thank my father for rescuing us.  I assured her I would.  I knew heÕd secretly enjoy hearing that she admired him, though of course heÕd never admit it.  
	When it was truly dark out, the moon gone, and my parents home and asleep in their bed, I went out again.  I sat on the beach and played in the sand, covering my feet with it, wondering at all IÕd been through.
	A shadow appeared beside me.  It was darker even than the night itself.  ÒCome with me,Ó a familiar voice said.  I looked up.  It was Him!  My first boyfriend, a man actually, Lord Shaftsbury.  Barbi stood beside him.  She held him, wearing just her bikini, though he was cloaked in black robes.  I looked closer and saw she did not have a top on.  Her breasts hung free, but there were small gold rings in her nipples.  I shivered.  
	ÒI canÕt,Ó I answered.  I did not tell him IÕd tattooed the inside of my pussy, the pussy heÕd opened for me to make me grow up.  I gulped.  ÒPromise you wonÕt hurt me or my family...Ó I said.
	ÒWhy?Ó he asked.
	ÒThereÕs something I must tell you,Ó I said.
	ÒWhat?Ó
	ÒPromise first,Ó I insisted.
	ÒYou were always a brat,Ó he said, and added, ÒI promise.Ó
	ÒMy fatherÕs trying to kill you,Ó I said.  ÒHeÕs hunting for you.  You must go far away.  DonÕt come back.  DonÕt go near him.  Because I know if you two meet only one will live, and I want you both to be alive always, even if I canÕt run away with you again.Ó
	ÒThanks for telling me,Ó he replied.
	ÒYou promised!Ó I shouted.
	ÒIÕll do my best,Ó he answered.  ÒDo you want to come away with me?  I have money again.  We could be happy together.Ó
	ÒNo.  You have Barbi,Ó I answered simply.  I did not intend playing second fiddle, much as I liked it in the past.  I wanted to be first now, first and forever loved...by somebody...
	He shrugged.  In the end I was just a girl to him.  He had no shortage of girls.
	I rose up from the sand.  I wiped my hands on my legs.  Without saying a word, I undid my panties.  I passed them to Barbi and she took them wordlessly.  ÒDo one thing for me,Ó I told my ex-boyfriend.
	ÒSure,Ó Lord Shaftsbury answered, and made to unzip himself.
	ÒNot that, silly,Ó I said.  I stopped his hand in mid-zip.  Carefully I zipped him back up.  ÒI want you to tattoo me.Ó  He started.  He looked as if IÕd caught his penis in his zipper, although I handÕt.
	ÒI-I have a tattoo, itÕs an ÔL,Õ I said.  But I need it changed.  To an ÔF,Õ my initial.  ItÕs in cursive.  It wonÕt be hard.  It will mean I belong to me, and nobody else.  You can do it?Ó
	He swallowed.  ÒI can do it.  Although, IÕll admit, it will be tough, looking at your wet cunt and knowing I canÕt fuck it.Ó
	ÒNo, you canÕt.  Just do me with the tattoo needle this time.  You owe me, in my opinion, for deflowering me and... and all that other stuff you did to me too!Ó
	ÒNot that you didnÕt enjoy it,Ó he replied with a glowing grin, his teeth as white as the moon might have been, if we werenÕt all shrouded in darkness.
	ÒJust do it,Ó I said.  ÒDonÕt fight me, donÕt seduce me, just do it.  Then go away so IÕll never be tempted to take to your bed again.Ó
	ÒWhat am I, Burger King?Ó he sniffed.  But he took my hand and, with Barbi holding my panties, he led me up the beach to his limo.  He had a driver now.  He drove me to a tattoo parlor, someone he knew, someone he could trust to do a good job.  They changed my tattoo there, with me screaming, with Barbi gently fondling me to get me through it.  And then I went home, and I vowed to myself to be a good girl for the rest of my life.              

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