Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in 
PUSSY PLAYLAND

Chapter Four

	Her cheeks were wet with my dew.  She was slathered in cream.  I gazed into her eyes and she into mine.  Our noses touched.  We kissed, lightly, like two warriors from different tribes contemplating peace.
	ÒHow do you feel, honey?Ó Sherry asked me.  
	ÒFull,Ó I answered.  ÒIn my butt.Ó  My voice was tremulous from my exertions underneath Jeff.  She giggled.  Jeff rose and walked out to the drain and relieved himself.  We could hear his pee hitting the drain, flowing, gurgling down.  ÒI think little boys used to be trapped against this wall by their cocks,Ó I mused to Sherry.  My eyes looked at the cock ring in front of my pillow.  On either side of it the wall was recessed.  Had little boys knelt here, in front of the ring, their knees pressing into the wall on either side of it, and felt a master ring and lock their penises?  I shivered.  Now I was a victim too.  Sherry caressed my reamed hole and fingered within it.  I felt opened back there, where I was supposed to poop things out but had instead let Jeff ram himself into me.  I could feel his sperm up inside me.  Slowly it was starting to trickle and run down from the deep place heÕd shot it to the opening of my anal hole.  Sherry kissed me again.
	ÒWeÕve got much more to do, but now itÕs time for a little break,Ó she said.  ÒA little sleep, a wash, a midnight breakfast.  Come on.  LetÕs go upstairs and relax awhile.Ó
	I stirred.  I found I couldnÕt move my body.  It had been hammered for so long by Jeff that it just wanted to lay there forever.  Sherry stood up.  Her large breasts bounced on her chest.  Her nipples were still hard, as if she wanted more.  I did not want any more.  I was so thoroughly fucked I felt like a rag doll, lying there.  Jeff had pounded my anus until IÕd cried.  Sherry had licked at my clit as if I were a meal and my slit was her first dinner after a hunger strike.  She bent down, her bosoms hanging down as she bent low to retrieve me.  They looked like they belonged at a dairy farm, full and heavy and stiff nippled.  Sherry took my arm and pulled.
	ÒCome on, itÕs just a fucking you got.  You act as if youÕve been executed!Ó she teased me.
	ÒMy bottom feels like its been executed,Ó I said.  It was striped and sore from being hit by JeffÕs whip.
	ÒWhat do you think mine feels like?Ó Sherry asked.  She tugged on my arm again and I let her pull me, not without effort, to my knees.  My head felt a little dizzy from all the champagne IÕd drunk.  Is that what had finally convinced me to try sliding down a cream-covered mat on a pillow?  Such a stupid thing!  Yet IÕd almost won.  It would have been so fun to beat Sherry in her own home in front of her own husband.  I felt a sudden, desperate need to have a big man of my own like she did.  Not some guy on the beach, sole owner of a surfboard.  But a man who had an important job and a nice home out in the canyons, or up on the hilltops, who could buy me nice things and spoil me.  It beat sitting at home listening to my mom insist on two hours of homework a night.  What did trigonometry have to do with men?  Or boys, for that matter?  Who cared about all those unkewl equations?  There was only one measurement that mattered.
	Jeff came bobbing back up to us.  His cock was still nicely elongated, although heÕd spent his strength up inside my tight teenage bottom.  His balls jangled underneath him, between his powerful thighs, like church bells.  They were empty at the moment, but I had little doubt theyÕd refill again soon.  And they were empty because... it took my breath away!  Because heÕd worked and labored and striven to give me his all.  And he had.  I now held his strength within me.  What if heÕd shot in my belly?  I couldnÕt remember the last time IÕd taken a pill.  My mom didnÕt like me having them.  
	I looked up at Jeff.  HeÕd been so very hard.  (And that, wouldnÕt you know, is when men try to get themselves up inside us, inside our smallest, tightest, most forbidden places.  When theyÕre hard!  Not when theyÕre soft.  Men are not polite like we girls are.  They wait till theyÕre huge and hard and absolutely inflexible and then they say, Òexcuse me, little miss, but IÕm really horny and IÕm just going to HAVE to stick this big thing of mine in you.  Sorry for the inconvenience, of course, but youÕre just going to have to take me and I canÕt stand having this big thing sticking out in front of me anymore.  You see, I canÕt get my pants on and its just driving me crazy.  Maybe if you werenÕt so young and cute and innocent, or werenÕt wearing sexy clothes...  So you see, my dear, itÕs all your fault.  Now do please spread for me or IÕll make it very difficult for you.Ó  And thatÕs if theyÕre Ônice.Õ  If theyÕre mean you donÕt even know what hits you.  They just Ôtake command,Õ as men like to do.  And you recieve them.  
	And, looking up at Jeff, I wanted to recieve him again.  He grinned possessively at me.  He liked seeing me wobbling on my knees, my bottomhole filled up with his seed, having it actually leak out of me and run down the backs of my thighs, seeing the marks where heÕd made me feel his whip.  And, strangely, I liked being watched by him, loved, spoilt.  Sherry ran her hand through my hair and tousled it, like a man might tousle the hair of a little child whose fallen, as if to say, Ôthere, itÕs not so bad.  It happens to everyone.  Now get up and on with your life.Õ
	Jeff reached down and grabbed me beneath my arms.  With one pull he yanked me straight up to my feet.  My boobs jumped and bobbled on my chest.  I gasped.  My hips fell forward, presenting my bush to the wall.  I tottered, finally found my balance.  He slapped my bottom hard to wake me up.  I was a newborn, newly in the world after my first real heavy-duty, butt wrenching fucking.  I winced, howled, at the pain of his slapping palm.
	ÒOooh, donÕt!Ó I scolded.  He did not hit me again.  He liked letting me have a little power.  He turned me carefully around and with SherryÕs help we walked slowly out from the maze of equipment.  JeffÕs penis bounced merrily, not stiff but not deflated, still tantalized by all the youthful female flesh he had at his disposal.  We were, indeed, his to do with as he pleased.
	ÒJeff, letÕs go upstairs and take a break,Ó Sherry suggested.  Jeff yawned.  
	ÒAlright, but weÕre coming back down here,Ó Jeff said.  ÒNo excuses.  IÕve got you both (he looked at Sherry) for the entire weekend.  Kelly doesnÕt get sent back home until Monday morning.Ó
	Sherry smiled and showed no disappointment.  I think she was starting to like me as a real person, instead of just as someone who could be brought into their marriage to make her husband happy, or to satisfy some kinky longing they both felt to share themselves with a third person.
	ÒShe can stay, dear, provided we go to the beach next weekend and pick up a boy,Ó Sherry said.  Jeff looked at her.  I watched in amazement as these two lovers, this husband and his wife, clashed a little.  Her eyes were dark, fiery.  His were a little glazed.  He was satisfied.  HeÕd gotten to shoot out his sperm and his fight was spent for the moment.  I had no doubt he could be a very demanding master, insisting on his way in all things but, like most men (I guessed!) he was so satisfied and sated right now he had no desire to argue.
	ÒAlright,Ó Jeff said.  His penis actually grew a little as he said it.  Did he like the idea of seeing a young man poke himself into his wife?  Did he have some deep, repressed fantasy of poking the young man himself?  I didnÕt know.  
	We stepped up to the ladder.  Jeff climbed up first.  I watched his hairy butt as he climbed.  He needed to go first because neither Sherry or I were strong enough to lift up the trap door.  His balls swung merrily as he climbed.  TheyÕd been strung up tightly to his groin, full of passion, when weÕd come down.  Now they just swung aimlessly, loose and spent.  His dick was retracting.  It dripped precum down on us as he went up the ladder.
	There was a slow screech of hinges as the door protested being lifted.  Jeff puffed out his breath, pushed harder, and at last got the better of the heavy door.  It fell with a bang against the floor in the study.  I could see nothing above.  The sun had set.  The house was dark.  
	ÒOW!Ó Jeff bumped his head on the ceiling trying to find his way out through the opening.  Sherry and I giggled.  We really were prisoners down here.  I hoped Jeff never had a heart attack fucking us.  WeÕd starve, with nothing but a half-eaten cake to feed ourselves on until we finally expired.  
	I went up the ladder next.  Sherry stayed below to follow me, and help me if I needed it.  IÕd never climbed up before.  She had Jeff had played down here before, and knew their way back up in the dark better than I did.  Behind me, below me, the candles in the dungeon were burning low.  Jeff and SherryÕs one sop to cleaning up had been to flick off the lights at the back of the dungeon.  In a dwindling pool of candlelight I climbed up the twelve foot ladder and, just as I had to scoot through the trapdoorÕs opening, Jeff flicked on the lights in the study.
	I poked my head up through the opening in the floor.  I was greeted by the sight of JeffÕs penis.  I looked up at it with childish, innocent eyes.  He was big even when he was spent.  Then, elf-like, I ascended into his world.  He took my arm and lifted me the final foot.  I landed on my feet in his study.  It was as if heÕd just lifted me off of some carnival ride.
	Sherry came up behind us.  I turned as her head broke through the opening and felt a strange sensation as she was greeted, looking up, by the sight of my bare bottom.  She climbed the rest of the way herself, stood, tossed her hair back from her face.
	ÒWell, wasnÕt that fun?Ó Sherry smiled.  She stood back from the dungeonÕs opening so Jeff could bang the door back down into place.  She bent and pulled the throw rug over it.  Now it was disguised.  Nobody knew.  For all the world this was just a study filled with law books and guides to our stateÕs penal code.  And, in the corner, I saw Jeff had started to pick up some medical books.  They seemed to be mostly about girls; how they worked and functioned and birthed and grew breasts and had periods.  Girls and Women, their bodies, their parts, but not, it seemed, what they thought or felt about their bodies and parts.  Just how they worked.  Men see us as bodies, I guess.  Bodies to be fucked and spermed and made pregnant with their seed.  ItÕs up to us to figure out the rest.  I drew close to Sherry and sought her hand.  She accepted it.  At least we had each other.  Jeff hustled us out of his study and closed the door.
	ÒCall Angela,Ó he said to Sherry.  
	ÒI will, honey,Ó Sherry replied.  ÒThe maid,Ó she said to me.  ÒWe gave her a cell phone so she could come up and clean for us whenever we need it.Ó  We drifted down the hall to the kitchen and Sherry picked up a cell phone and dialed their maid.  Jeff picked up a banana.  He peeled it and squirted it with a bottle of honey.  He came close to me and put it to my lips.
	ÒJeff, donÕt you ever think about anything else?Ó I asked him.  I smiled but I was a little baffled.  He simply used the opportunity of my speaking to force me to take the banana.  He made me eat it all the way down to the end.  I heard Sherry talking to Angela as I was force-fed the banana.  When she hung up and turned around she saw me with my cheeks bulging with the fruit.  
	ÒAlways playing with my hubby, hmmm?Ó Sherry asked me accusingly.  She reached out and pinched one of my nipples.
	ÒOwww!Ó I said.  I was helpless between them.  Jeff made her relent and together we went to the bathroom in thier master bedroom.  We showered together.  There was a little intimacy, but mostly we just wanted to get clean.  Sherry had me bend over in the shower and she used a special spray nozzle to hose out my bottom.  Poor Jeff.  His seed did not breed babies in me but instead got washed down the drain.  
	We stepped out, toweled off.  ÒWhen weÕre ready to go again IÕll have you take a pill,Ó Sherry said to me.  ÒI do NOT want you pregnant with my husbandÕs sperm.Ó  She turned to Jeff.  ÒWe should have been more careful, honey.Ó  Then she frowned a little.  She poked him in his belly.  ÒYou wouldnÕt mind getting her pregnant, would you?  It would just give you an excuse to have two wives and start a harem!Ó  Jeff just grinned.  He was no Ôman of the 90Õs.Õ  He was an old-fashioned guy.  Girls were put on this earth to be possessed and fucked.  Sherry put her hand between his legs and drew out her husbandÕs penis.  It was still long, even after heÕd shot all he had into me.  She regarded it.  This was the organ of the man sheÕd married; her organ as much as his.  Hers to put to use in making children for the two of them.  ÒI ought to cut this off, you naughty, lusty boy!Ó Sherry said spitefully.  Did she guess he might try to see me after our one weekend together?  She turned to me and slapped my tummy.  ÒJust one weekend together,Ó she warned me.  ÒJust one.  This cute little tummy of yours is NOT going to swell up with my husbandÕs sperm, no matter what.  IÕve got plenty of coat hangers, honey!Ó  Sherry said.  I think she was feeling a little frustrated because IÕd gotten her husbandÕs all down in the dungeon.
	Jeff put a hand behind each of our necks.  He reached right through our long, thick tumbling hair and gripped us hard.  
	ÒGirls, weÕre going to bed,Ó Jeff said.  And with that he turned us both around so we faced the door.  He marched us straight into the bedroom, our tits bouncing like melons.  He made us pull back the covers of his big bed and he put us into it.  
	Sherry and I each fell asleep with a new dog collar around our neck.  We were chained by our necks to the bedposts on either side of Jeff.  He owned us, we were his.  He fell asleep snoring and we had to content ourselves to liking his protection.  His arms encircled us and his cock, perhaps dreaming of us as he slept, began to grow again.

	In the darkness I awoke.  I had to go to the bathroom.  What could I do?  Did I dare to wake Jeff?  I didnÕt want to pee in their bed.  I saw a shadow move past the bedroom door.  Eyes peered in.  I started.  My hand flew to my throat.  
	A voice asked, ÒIs anything to be cleaned in here?Ó  It was Angela!  
	ÒN-No,Ó I whispered in response.  We were still squeaky clean from our bath.  We had just started playing in here.  
	A cloud stole back from the moon.  Its light thrust into the bedroom and all was illuminated.  My figure, quite nude, lay upon the sheets.  The night had warmed.  Our coverlet and sheet had been thrown back in our sleep to keep ourselves from getting hot.  Angela stared in at me.  The tips of my breasts poked skyward.  My tummy was flat despite my playing and my hips were trim, still a little childish, waiting to fill out.  My bush was newly fleeced and my legs were long, with slim ankles.  Around my neck, quite embarrassing for me at the moment, was a dog collar, chained to a post of the bed.  I put my hands to my pussy and held myself, lest I pee on the sheets.
	ÒUnlock...  unlock me,Ó I whispered to Angela.
	ÒI mustnÕt,Ó she answered.  
	ÒI...Ó  Could I say it to this ancient woman?  She had a kind of dignity despite her years.  She looked in at me like my grandmother might have.  ÒI... I have to pee,Ó I said.
	ÒI mustnÕt,Ó she said again, her voice more insistent.  She turned away.  I bit my lip.  I felt a sudden onrushing of need.  And then, quite suddenly, it happened.  I peed in the bed!  
	I heard Angela go out.  The front door shut and she locked it.  Jeff turned, almost awoke, but fell asleep again.  I think you only wake up at night if you pee yourself.  If somebody else pees, you might or might notice it, like you donÕt notice a bed wet with sweat until you awake in the morning.  Jeff began snoring again.  Sherry, opposite me, did not stir at all.
	I lay there in the darkness, feeling awful.  But, at last, I rolled atop Jeff.  He did not awaken.  I was light.  Perched safely atop him, I at last fell asleep again.

	ÒWho wet the bed?!Ó Sherry hollared.  I woke.  I turned my head sleepily.  I was about to admit that I had when she blamed her husband.
	ÒJeff, PLEASE donÕt just make a mess whenever you feel like it,Ó Sherry exclaimed.  ÒI know youÕre a very happy husband and I do everything just for you, but donÕt just pee without bothering to get up!!!Ó
	ÒI- gosh, did I do that?Ó Jeff asked himself aloud.  Then he burped.  That seemed to seal his fate.
	ÒYou are nothing but a big, hairy BEAST!Ó Sherry cried.  She pushed him away from her.  
	I gulped.  Should I tell the truth?  I felt sorry for Jeff getting blamed for my pee.
	ÒAnyway,Ó Sherry continued.  ÒI have to go very badly myself, Jeff.  Get the key and unlock this damn dog collar youÕve got me in!Ó
	ÒNo,Ó Jeff said simply.  He rose up from our bed.  He was not chained.  He walked to the bathroom and was about to pee into the toilet when, on an inspiration, he returned.  ÒI want to watch you pee,Ó he said to myself and Sherry.
	ÒJeff, we can pee on a tarp or something but we canÕt just pee in our bed,Ó Sherry replied.  
	ÒAlright, in the yard then,Ó Jeff said.
	ÒIn the yard?!Ó Sherry exclaimed.
	ÒYep,Ó Jeff answered.  He unchained our chains from the bedposts but not from us.  He would use them as leashes to take us outside.  ÒItÕs early,Ó Jeff said.  ÒThe people next door wonÕt see.  Maybe the boy, but not his parents.  LetÕs go.Ó
	ÒWhat about the girl?Ó Sherry asked.  ÒWhat about their daughter?Ó
	ÒSheÕs growing nice tits,Ó was all Jeff said in reply.
	He took us outside.  It had cooled again and the morning was chilly.  It looked as if it had rained during the night.  The grass had a frosting of dew on it.  The bushes glistened with droplets.  Sherry and stepped barefoot onto the grass.  WeÕd taken our heels off to get in the shower the night before.  We were utterly naked now, save for our collars.  Like cats we stole across the lawn, hoping not to wake the neighbors.  Our master, Jeff, made us walk out to the farthest bush.  There, amidst a bed of tulips, he made us squat down.
	ÒWater the flowers,Ó he said simply.  Sherry and I, squatting rudely on the lawn, the tulips springing up around us, spread the lips of our cunts with our fingers and let out our pee.
	I saw a windowshade rise up on the second floor of the house next door.  ÒOh, Jeff!Ó Sherry hissed.  There were tears in her eyes.  Someone watched as she and I peed like female animals.  
	We stood up.  Sherry tossed her hair back from her face to try to regain her composure.  
	ÒDamn toilet.  Never works when itÕs supposed to,Ó Jeff announed for the neighbors.  He stopped in front of a tree and pissed on it casually, deliberately, as if heÕd saved up his pee just to give this tree what it deserved.  Then he took us inside.
	We bathed again.  Jeff permitted Sherry and I a long luxurious bath, together, in the tub.  After we were done he took a quick shower while we dressed in clothes heÕd laid out for us.  
	Angela came.  We greeted her in tight little waist corsets.  They did nothing to hide our breasts, our pussies.  They simply constricted our tummies, perhaps so we wouldnÕt conceive.  A small bib-like skirt flared at the back of our corsets.  Although it hinted at being a skirt it hid nothing.  Our bare white bottoms were as impudent as ever.  Pink lines still crisscrossed them where Jeff had stung us the night before with his whip.  Sherry and I wore long thigh-high stockings on our legs.  They were white, patterned with delicate designs of lace, sheer except where the designs were.  I felt special with my legs sheathed in these stockings.  Glossy silver heels lifted my feet and held them buckled within straps.  The stockings stayed up by themselves.  They needed no garters.
	ÒOne of us peed in the bed,Ó Sherry told Angela.  She had begun to suspect me instead of Jeff.  I was, after all, only 14.  I think she knew sheÕd been wrong to blame her husband; how, I donÕt know.  Perhaps it was just her endless envy of me.  IÕd peed in their marriage bed.  The bed where sheÕd been taken as a new bride, IÕd defiled it.  Did she harbor some evil intent toward me now?  I couldnÕt tell.  Jeff would protect me, I hoped.  
	Angela went into the bedroom and began cleaning up.  Sherry and I, gift-wrapped in our new corsets, went to the breakfast room where Jeff was just starting to eat the oatmeal banana pancakes weÕd fixed for him.  Sherry said sheÕd picked banana pancakes because they made a man long and hard.  We both knew that as soon as his balls were nice and full again heÕd take us downstairs to the dungeon.  She wanted her turn with him now.  I would be helpmate, unless Jeff, at the last minute, as he had the night before, decided to fuck me again.
	Sherry and I sat down with Jeff and began eating our pancakes.  Jeff ate in the nude.  He made no attempt to hide his nudity.  I peeked under the table and saw, to my heartbeating surprise, that the banana pancakes were having their effect.  He was big again, full and thrusty and with his balls slowly rising up toward his groin.
	ÒJeffÕs hard,Ó I said with a gasp to Sherry after IÕd pulled my head back up.
	ÒGood,Ó Sherry said.  ÒWeÕll take our pills after breakfast.Ó
	ÒYou both still need to get spanked,Ó Jeff said to us.
	ÒJeff, that was YESTERDAY,Ó Sherry said in a surprised, pleading voice.  ÒLetÕs just play downstairs, okay?Ó
	ÒWeÕll do as I say, nothing more, nothing less,Ó Jeff answered.  He looked at Sherry.  ÒGo get the handcuffs,Ó he said.
	ÒJeff!  Not while AngelaÕs here,Ó Sherry begged.  But Jeff insisted and she rose and went to their bedroom and returned with two pair of steel cuffs.  She made me put my wrists out and she locked them on me.  Then, giving me her pair, she made me lock her within her cuffs.  
	We were forced to finish our breakfast wearing police handcuffs.  Mercifully, they were lined with fur, but it made it no easier for us to eat or to do the dishes afterwards.  When we let Angela out, so she could go home again, it was with blushing faces.  It was bad enough being nude in front of her.  Actually being handcuffed for an impending punishment was even more embarrassing.
	ÒI used to throw a bathrobe on whenever she came over,Ó Sherry admitted to me after Angela left.  ÒBut Jeff made me show myself naked to her so many times that I finally gave up.Ó  She looked at her husband.  ÒBut he never, NEVER made me show myself to her like this!Ó
	ÒShe saw us chained to the bed last night,Ó I told her.  Sherry looked at me.  ÒThatÕs different.  I was asleep.  I didnÕt know,Ó she said.
	ÒGirls,Ó Jeff intoned.  He stood before us with a hard cock and a switch in his hand.  It was long, wrapped in leather and quite flexible.  Too flexible.  Made to bite at the first contact with skin.  HeÕd let Angela see him holding it, his cock hard, demanding pleasure.  ÒItÕs time for your correction,Ó he said.  ÒPlease come with me.Ó  He stopped, turned around.  ÒAnd Sherry,Ó he said.  ÒYou will want to be as obedient as you can.  I have a fantasy of stopping our car outside the Mexican squatterÕs camp and taking you in to Angela and having her beat you...  Or beating you myself in front of all of them.  They would enjoy it, I think!Ó  He laughed.  Sherry screamed.  And I knew that they would enjoy it, seeing this proud, young white woman, his wife, beaten right in front of them.  
	He took us into his study and lifted the trapdoor.  It was awkward climbing down with our handcuffs on.  When we reached the floor and Sherry, guided by a flashlight shone by Jeff, had lit the new tapers placed in the wall by Angela, we saw an astonishing sight.  All our roses that weÕd clipped the day before were laid neatly round a cake.  It was a big wedding cake, frosted with white frosting and bedecked with candied flowers.
	ÒI hope you girls have a sweet tooth,Ó Jeff told us.  ÒThere are two giant dildoes buried inside that cake and youÕre both going to eat them out.  He whacked his switch against the chair with no seat.  ÒGet busy!  Use the champagne to wash the cake down.  And try not to make a mess.  Messy girls will be whipped extra hard for not having proper table manners.Ó
	ÒJeff, thereÕs no chairs, no knives, no forks, no plates...Ó Sherry said.
	ÒYoung wives, and wives to be (he looked at me) shouldnÕt have any problem eating without being messy.  What do you girls do all day if not practise being neat?  Get going, girls.  This is our wedding cake and youÕre BOTH going to be my wives!Ó  Sherry spun round, stared at him.  ÒWives for the weekend, that is,Ó he assured her.
	ÒJeffrey youÕre lucky you DONÕT have a knife down here,Ó Sherry admonished, regarding her husbandÕs dick.  
	ÒFor the weekend!Ó he protested.  He seemed taken aback that heÕd angered her.  Then he swung his switch and sliced it menacingly through the air.  It made a whistling sound.  It came very close to Sherry and I.
	ÒMake your mouths busy, wives!Ó Jeff said.  And Sherry and I, dressed in our little corsets that constricted our tummies, with our long stockings on that decorated our legs, our wrists awkwardly cuffed, went dashing over to the cake and began eating it as best as we could.  Our heads bobbed as we pressed our faces into the frosting, trying not to be messy.  I was aware of icing in my long, lovely blonde hair and knew at once IÕd fail JeffÕs rules.  His crop, ever more menacingly, tasted the air just inches from my behind.
	I bit into the cake.  I tried not to scrape my bosoms against the side of it but I felt my nipples graze the frosting.  I tried licking just the surface, holding my bosoms back.  
	JeffÕs switch stung my heinie.  ÒYeeeouch!Ó I cried and stood bolt upright.  The worst of it was that I couldnÕt reach back and cover myself.  I was forced to wiggle my bare bottom in front of him, my hands cuffed in front of me.  The pain flared along the single line heÕd impressed, then subsided gradually.  Sherry laughed at me.  I looked foolish.
	ÒYou must eat out the dildoes from the center of the cake,Ó Jeff told me.  ÒDonÕt be a slacker.  DonÕt make my wife do all the work.  Your dildo is in there just as hers is.  You canÕt get at it by simply licking the icing.Ó
	ÒWell, IÕm not real eager to get mine out of the cake,Ó I said.  My eyes were anguished from the searing sting heÕd given me across my fanny.
	ÒYouÕll be eager if I tell you youÕve got ten minutes to eat your way down to it or get a fierce whipping over the trestle,Ó Jeff replied.  ÒAnd one more thing.  DonÕt cup your hands to your breasts.  This is a wedding cake.  YouÕre eating out your wedding dildoes.  Make your pussies wet by massaging your clits while you eat.  Hurry, girls!  I wonÕt wait past ten minutes!Ó  He slashed the whip at us, barely missing both our tushies.  Sherry and I bolted forward, pressed our cheeks down into the cake.  ÒRemember, neatness counts!Ó Jeff reminded us.  ÒMessy brides deserve messy bottoms!Ó
	ÒOh, this is awful!Ó Sherry confessed.  She lifted her face and I saw tears welling in her eyes.  Her cheeks were decorated with cake crumbs.  Her lips were ridged with white frosting.  There was frosting on her nose, and I looked no better.  Freely we fingered our slits, knowing Jeff was watching and judging our every move.  I wiggled my fanny from the stinging I still felt from his remorseless switch.  He was swinging it most deliberately and impatiently behind us, each swish now almost grazing our fannies.  We had to be constantly watchful of him.  One mis-step backward and we were sure to find ourselves howling at the tops of our lungs.  ÒJeff, I canÕt eat this much cake!Ó Sherry cried.
	ÒSpit it on the floor if you like,Ó Jeff said.  ÒJust keep burrowing your way down toward those dildoes.  Eight minutes, girls!Ó  Sherry sobbed and bit more deeply into our wedding cake.  I let my breasts smoosh into the side of the cake and hoped Jeff didnÕt punish me then and there for being so messy.  From the corner of my eye I could see Sherry smiling a little, to herself, despite her tears.  The awfulness of our plight had a certain allure.  Jeff was so hard, and so close, and so dominant and powerful.  If only he would put down that switch, I think we both could have borne our cuffs and even the messiness of the cake quite happily.  But he wanted more, more than we could handle, as men often did.  Sherry and I kept at our task, licking and biting our way down into the cake.  
	Suddenly I bit and found my teeth clamping on hard rubber.  IÕd found my phallus!  A shock ran down my spine and I felt again the pain of Jeff violating my bottom the night before.  I licked the tip.  Yes, it tasted of rubber.  I looked down inside the half-eaten cake.  The nose of a huge penis stared up at me, like some missile in its silo, waiting to destroy us all.  
	Sherry found her phallus.  Together we worked, still frigging our slits, letting our breasts mush into the cake, digging out our phalluses with our teeth and tongues.  
	ÒSuch messy little girls,Ó Jeff told us when, finally, we presented ourselves to him, holding the phallus each of us had dug out between our teeth.  We were like dogs with lost bones.  Standing before him, each of us holding a huge penis in our mouth, we were still required to rub our pussies.  He gazed at our cake-crumbed faces and the frosting on our noses, our eyelashes, and in our hair.  We had frosting on our bosoms and our bellies.  I even had some in my pubic hair.
	ÒWell girls,Ó Jeff said.  ÒIt seems youÕve found something to play with in our cake.  Sherry, bend over and grab the side of this chair.  I want to see Kelly fuck you.  Not with your hands holding the dildo, Kelly,Ó he added.  ÒKeep the dildo between your teeth and shove it up SherryÕs twat.  You girls may need to entertain yourselves if IÕm away from home.  You may as well learn how to do it now.Ó  
	Sherry tried to protest, but Jeff pushed her in front of the chair with no seat and made her bend down over one of its arms.  Still clutching her dildo in her mouth, he made her arch up her fanny and offer it to me.  I got behind her reluctantly.  I was wary of JeffÕs switch and knew any disobedience on my part would change the game entirely, with Sherry laughing as I received a switching from Jeff over the trestle.  It stood silently nearby, cuffs open and waiting.  There was a cushion atop it to give a girl something comfy to rest her tummy on but, of course, with her fanny sticking out she would hardly be thinking about her tummy!
	Sherry, as mindful of Jeff as I was, rested her cheek on the arm of the chair.  She looked ridiculous with a big dildo sticking out of her mouth!  She was already playing with herself and now she spread her cuntlips for me so I could fuck her.  I had the head of my dildo in my mouth and Jeff permitted me to stop frigging myself so I could put the base of the dildo into my mouth instead.  My fingers were slick with my dew.  I got my mouth round the base and then nosed the front of the dildo towards SherryÕs twat.  
	ÒShove it right in.  DonÕt spare her,Ó Jeff told me.  I certainly didnÕt want to find my face pressed up into another girlÕs cunt but I didnÕt mind giving her the dildo.  I was worried about myself, not her.  I pushed the dildo against SherryÕs slit.  I could smell the sweet muskiness of her slit, even with my face still a foot away.  Sherry gasped, tensed.  I shoved the dildo hard.  I didnÕt want a switching.  My hinds were lofted up at Jeff as if they were on display, and he was swinging his switch impatiently.
	The dildo breached SherryÕs cunt.  She mewled, her lips round her own dildo, gagging her.  I pushed harder.  She tried to get up but Jeff cautioned her not to.  Deeper within her I shoved the dildo, and she trembled as she felt it going up her.  ÒNo,Ó I think I heard her say, but there was such a fullness of rubber prick jammed in her lips she couldnÕt speak even that one word clearly.  I pushed, pushed again.
	ÒNow make it go in and out.  Fuck her with it,Ó Jeff instructed me.  My eyes widened.  I could hardly bear the lewdness of it all.  I drew back the dildo with my teeth.  Sherry gasped a relieved sigh and then tensed again, knowing I must assault her anew.  In I shoved it once more, deep, deeper, trying to shove it right up to her womb where she hoped to make babies for Jeff.
	ÒAugh!Ó Sherry cried.  She dropped the dildo from her mouth.  It fell clattering into the chafing bowl beneath the chair that had no seat.
	ÒYouÕll be punished for that,Ó Jeff told her.  Wickedly I went deep as I could into her, then pulled back, then forced my way up her again.  I was fucking another woman with my mouth!  It was incredible, feeling this older girl moan and buck under me, still playing with herself, as I forcibly took her pussy.  In and out I went, then more, then faster, really giving it to her now.  At the same time I fucked myself with my fingers.  Moaning, crying, we lurched at last over the edge of orgasm, cuming almost as one, and I found myself kissing her bottom, the dildo abandoned, stuck up her twat.  Jeff slashed my bottom for my forgetfulness.  I howled, kissed SherryÕs bottom, tried to repossess my dildo but found I was so lost in bliss I could only accept his strokes and finger myself and kiss within SherryÕs cunny and bottomcrack.  I found her hole, I pierced it with my tongue, thinking in my bliss I was doing her as Jeff wished.
	
	I stood uncuffed with my hands rubbing my wounded bottom.  Sherry, her face bathed clean with a towel and her hair neatly pinned up by Jeff, sat in the chair with no seat.  Despite washing our faces for us and pinning up SherryÕs hair, Jeff was still beastly.  He intended to fry SherryÕs bottom!  
	ÒOh, Jeff,Ó Sherry begged, but a gag clung to her lips and she could not speak.  The gag distorted her words.  Still wearing her little corset, laced tight with bows and decorated with ribbons, still in her lovely stockings, she was nonetheless fixed with her arms pinned to the arms of the chair.  Her bottom bulbed over the chafing dish.  She was quite bare there, nothing protected her fanny although great care had been taken to bind her arms to the chair arms and her belly into her corset.  Her ankles were not only bound into her shoes but were now pinned, like her arms, to the chair.  The rest of her could move freely.  She rolled her head atop her neck, watching JeffÕs every move.  She looked down and watched him arrange the coals in the chafing dish.  He squirted them with lighter fluid.  He walked to a shelf on the wall and took down a box of matches.
	ÒNow, little lady, youÕre going to have a pair of toasted buns for me to feast on,Ó Jeff grinned.  It was not a pleasant grin.  Sherry let tears run down her cheeks.  I stood beside her, watching nervously.  I wondered if heÕd find some infraction to punish me with when he was finished with her.
	SherryÕs bottom was white.  SheÕd not been whipped and she kept it out of the sun, though her limbs were smoothly tanned.  Jeff lit a match.  Sherry watched as he put it to the coals beneath her and, suddenly, they flared up.  
	ÒYeeeeOOOOCH!Ó Sherry cried.  She bolted up, lifting her bottom like a rabbit fleeing a car.  The chair was extremely solid and heavy and there was no way she could budge it.  In any event, the chafing dish was part of the chair, sitting in the crisscrossing timbers of wood that connected the chair legs.  With her legs bound wide apart, and her arms pinned to the arms of the chair, Sherry could do nothing but bounce up and down in her bonds.  The flames from the chafing dish licked upward.  Her bush, her cunny, her ass were all exposed.  I wondered if it was singed pubic hair that I smelt, or just the burning coals themselves.  Sherry strained to remain standing but the minute she shot up to escape the flames Jeff was ready for her.  Standing beside the chair, he brought his switch smartly down between her thighs.  It curled between her open legs and stung her against her precious cunny.  Immediately she withdrew, trying to sit again, only to find herself assailed by the flames and forced to stand.  Caught in this netherworld of pain, Sherry cried for mercy and, through her gag, promised to love and obey her husband all her life, never crossing him.  He relented at last.  He tossed water over the coals and they released a misting of hot steam.  Sherry sat down and sobbed, her bottom barely supported by the ledge at the back of the chair.  Gently Jeff unbuckled her.  He lifted her out of the monstrous chair.  She cried freely.  She turned to me for comfort.  I held her a moment.  Then I turned her around to examine her fanny.  The flames had streaked her ass with red but she seemed otherwise unhurt.  I took her to the table and sat her on it, ignoring the cake.  She sat down amidst bits of cake and frosting.  I hoped the frosting, at least, felt cool upon her bottom.  Attentively I examined her pussy and rubbed vaseline into it.  She squirmed.  I made her keep her legs open.  Jeff had been merciful with the switch and had not wounded her too badly.  Some marks pinkened her labia lips.  She swooned as I rubbed warm oil into her clit.  
	ÒNow itÕs your turn,Ó Jeff told me.  I froze.  He drew me from Sherry and she was forced to attend to herself.  I walked with frightened eyes and hesitant steps over to a low table.  It was covered with felt.
	ÒLie down,Ó Jeff told me.  ÒDonÕt worry, the feltÕs fireproof.Ó  I lay down on the felt.  It was very soft.  It would have been a lovely resting spot except for the hole cut ominously out where my bottom rested.  There was nothing under my fanny except this hole, and down, within the hole, there was a brazier.  It had coals in it, waiting to be lit.  Jeff arranged me on the table so that I lay with my knees bent, my calves tucked under my thighs.  He made me spread my thighs so that my pussy showed completely.  My elbows were pulled up toward my ears, with my forearms pressed into the table.  
	Sherry walked over to me.  She was rubbing oil all over her pussy and she looked down at me with soft, pitying eyes.  Her face was stained with tears.  Jeff made her buckle me down to the table.  Despite the oiled slickness of her fingers she managed to get all the buckles and straps closed over my limbs.  My ankles were strapped down but my legs were left otherwise free.  My wrists were similarly affixed but my arms were left free beyond that.  Each strap was slim and there were two, not one, for each of my wrists, as if the designer of this awful table had wanted to keep a certain artfulness in its design.  Lastly Sherry undid my waist corset, and drew it off me.  She kissed my tummy.  She did not take off my stockings.  Jeff leered at me from the base of the table.  He enjoyed the sight of my utterly exposed slit.  He lit a match and reached beneath the table.
	ÒAaaaaaak!Ó I cried.  My lips were free to speak.  Jeff watched the O of my mouth as I struggled above the awakened coals.  Flames licked up through the hole, not quite reaching the opening but too close for comfort, and forced me to buck my bottom upward.  Frantically I strove to keep my hips arched above the flames.  After straining up for a few moments my strength would fail me and I would fall with my fanny back down into the hole, only to rise again as the burning flames assailed my derriere.  
	Sherry laughed.  She was weeping, but she couldnÕt help laughing at how rudely exposed I was, how helpless, with my tits bouncing atop my chest and my ribs heaving and my ass literally inches from the flames.  They toasted my heinie and I felt as desperate as a woman giving birth, heaving and bucking and straining as Jeff and Sherry, like doctor and nurse, watched me.  Sherry saw a moist towelette lying near the table, perhaps put there by Angela just in case, and she ripped it open and bathed my forehead with it.  
	ÒOh, please stop!Ó I cried.  But Jeff just watched, enjoying the sight.  Sherry, having suffered a similar fate, had no wish to see me escape.  As she bathed my forehead she kept touching her poor abraded pussy.  Jeff had seen to it that she should never have anything there but a gash.  
	In my agonies, feeling the flames and with Sherry petting me, I imagined I was a girl in Egypt, having her clit cut away.  I moaned and pleaded.  I screeched at the top of my lungs and promised to be good.  At last, feeling merciful, Jeff doused the coals and I felt a rush of hot steam scald my bottom.  Whimpering, I settled back onto the table.  I felt my bottom sink through the hole in the table and did not try to stop it.  Jeff lifted me off the soft felt and kissed me and held me.  Sherry squirted lotion on my bottom and rubbed it briskly.  I was rosy cheeked in back, nothing more.  IÕd escaped unharmed, but I was sighing and weeping and my chest was heaving with fright.  Jeff held me close and I felt my bosoms press into his hairy chest.  His manhood rose between my legs and I felt it bump against my twat.  
	ÒOhhh, please donÕt hurt me!Ó I sobbed.  I bit into the flesh of his chest and he flinched and I tried to draw blood.  Carefully, he separated my teeth from his body.  He kissed my lips.
	ÒSilly girl, IÕm only training you,Ó he said gently.  I cried more loudly and Sherry, sensing I was pitying myself just to please him, gave my poor bottom, glossy with lotion sheÕd just applied, a firm slap.
	Jeff felt me bounce against him as SherryÕs slap hit my bottom.  I emitted a heartfelt cry of pain into his ear.  He gripped me tightly.  His hands, hard and calloused, slid down over my pampered bottom and held my cheeks wide apart, exposing my hole.  Sherry lurked behind me.  I trembled from my head to my toes, fearing a new assault by her.  But the rest of my ass, held in JeffÕs palms, was protected.  How awkward to be so nicely protected, yet left with my hole open and vulnerable!  And the man who was now keeping me from being slapped again by Sherry was the same man whoÕd just tried to burn my bottom off!  
	I wept.  The emotions were too much for me.  Yet as I wept, wanting to break free of Jeff and, at the same time, relishing the feel of his holding me, not letting me escape, I was aware of his penis.  It was deathly hard, and jammed up between my legs.  It ran from his groin under my cunny and then, tantalizingly, stuck out behind my thighs, where Sherry could admire his drooling, unemployed cockhead waiting for permission to enter me.
	ÒI want to be your master, and also your slave,Ó Jeff confided hotly in me.  He bent over me, whispering in my ear.  I was on tiptoe against him, yet my head only rose up to his shoulder.  He had to bend close to tell me his secrets.  Sherry could not hear.  ÒI want to work you, to exert myself in you every day, forever...Ó Jeff said to me in a rushed, hushed voice.  ÒI want to be like a horse to you, and ride you every day, fucking you, again and again, stopping only to rest a moment, and then to begin again!Ó  I swooned.  I could picture what he wanted.  To be hard forever (it was possible with Jeff!) and to have me under him, ramming himself into me, exerting himself in me, spilling his seed in MY womb, just mine, not hers, over and over.  As soon as his balls would fill up again IÕd be on my back again.  IÕd be his slave, but heÕd be mine.  We would couple forever, never working, never even playing, really.  Just mating.  The two of us doing our duty to each other.  Our reproductive duty.
	Sherry bobbed from one side of us to the other.  She was aware, now, that Jeff was telling me something special.  Something that might not include her.  
	Jeff pushed me back and away from him.  It was as if weÕd disagreed, from all outward appearances, and heÕd shoved me away.  But we hadnÕt.  HeÕd breathed his lust to me and IÕd sighed agreeable in response, in between my tears.
	ÒTake everything off,Ó Jeff said to both of us.  His words were words of command.  Much in the dungeon had to do with commanding, obeying.  ÒEverything.  Right down to and including your earrings.Ó  We did not deny him.  We could not.  We were just two frail, big-bosomed girls, Sherry older, but still a teen, and me younger.  We stripped ourselves of all of civilizationÕs baubles.  We were Indian maidens, without even our feathers.  We put our stockings and SherryÕs corset and our earrings and heels in a little pile on the floor.  
	Jeff watched us with possessive eyes.  When we were quite nude, he left us standing together a moment.  He went to a shelf along the wall and picked up a sweatband and put it on.  It would keep the perspiration out of his eyes.  Then he put on two wrist sweatbands.  Sherry and I, watching him, huddled together.  We werenÕt the best of friends, but with his hard cock and his menacing eyes, Jeff made us both feel like victims.  On his way back, Jeff picked up his switch.  He stood before us and let the sight of his cock impose itself on us.  We were all nude, like babies or, more likely, the first man and (two!) women in the world.  Except instead of being in a garden, we were in a dungeon.  Jeff slapped the switch into the open palm of his free hand, once, then again.  
	ÒJeff, my ass still hurts from that hot seat you made me sit on,Ó Sherry confessed.  
	ÒMine too,Ó I piped up.  I put my hand behind myself and wondered if I hadnÕt been licked a little by the flames, after all.  We were both pretty red-bottomed.  I hoped we wouldnÕt peel.
	ÒItÕs not your bottoms IÕm interested in right now,Ó Jeff said to us gruffly.  ÒWeÕve been playing without protection.  IÕm afraid I may have made you girls pregnant.  YouÕve been totally remiss in taking your pills.  But there are other ways to make sure you donÕt bear me children I donÕt want.Ó  
	With our hair still lovely, though unpinned, Jeff walked Sherry and I over to a rape rack.  It was made of lumber, boards that had been worn down over many years until, in certain places, you could see where the boards held a person bound to them.  Sherry and I stood staring.
	ÒThis Ôrape rack,Õ as its called, can be used for conception, or to terminate a conception,Ó Jeff told us.  A topmost bar, higher than our heads, waited for upraised wrists to be bound against it.  I reached up, touched where the wrists of many past girls had been set firmly against the wood.  The board was smooth there.  Instinctively Sherry reached out and palmed, then held, the nearest cheek of my bottom as I, on tiptoe, examined the place where the arms were bound.  We were both, I think, quite frightened of it, but she must have been put here at least once before.  Now we would, it seemed, share the experience.  But Jeff was not rushing, not pushing us.  He was letting us drink in our fate, perhaps even to agree to it?
	ÒA girl,Ó Sherry began, then her voice broke off.  She began again, nervous.  ÒA girl is bound against the wood with fresh vines from the jungle, in the olden days, or now, with rubber cuffs,Ó Sherry gulped.  I could see that Jeff had his options with us.  The arms could be bound directly over the head, together, or wide apart.  Below, where a girlÕs hips would hang, a board pushed them forward, so her tormenter could amuse himself with the sight of her bare pussy shoved outward at him.  That board was also worn down, in the center, where my hips would be, if I Ôaccepted my mission,Õ as a certain film might say.  And, lastly, the feet were not simply allowed to drop down to the floor.  A separate foot stool rose up on either side of the rack.  There, spread apart, a girlÕs feet would be held open so that her cunny would be the lowest point on her body.  
	ÒThis is how a woman should give birth,Ó Sherry said to me.  ÒUpright, with her cunny split open.  The baby simply falls out.  Gravity helps pull it out of her.Ó
	ÒYes,Ó I agreed.  I ran my finger along the wooden beams.  They were big and old and had the aura of ancient wisdom about them.  But the cuffs, made of soft rubber, were new.  Fresh chains with no weak links promised to hold a girl remorselessly to the rack.  
	ÒIt is used for birthing, but also for insemination?Ó I asked.  I turned and looked over my shoulder at Jeff.  
	ÒRight now it will just be used for an abortion,Ó Jeff answered.  I gasped.  
	ÒJeffÕs going to beat any baby you have right out of you,Ó Sherry taunted me.  Her fingers glided over my shoulders and then dropped down to cup and offer my bosoms to him.  She nudged me around so that I faced him full on.  She pinched my nipples.  I gasped.  I ran my fingers over my tummy.  It felt smooth, flat.  But you could never be sure, could you?  JeffÕs penis stared up at me like a huge hose.  It throbbed, hungry with his desire.  I almost felt certain, for a moment, staring speechless at it, that it might spew sperm all over me at any moment.  And heÕd already been inside me; albeit, considerately, in my ass instead of my pussy.  But you could never be sure, could you?  Some might have leaked thru, I guessed, between the membrane that separated my back channel from my front. 
	ÒDoctor, our patient here thinks she might be pregnant,Ó Sherry teased.  She slid a hand over my tummy, poked in my belly button.  Then, stepping back suddenly, she slapped both my bottom cheeks hard.
	ÒYEEEEEOWCH!Ó I cried.  The flames had burnt my bottom a little and her handslaps sent pain bursting through my hind cheeks.  My palms flew back.  I cupped myself.  My bosoms jutted out at Jeff and my cunny arched forward as I clapped my hands to my bottom.  
	ÒGet her a towel,Ó Jeff ordered his wife.  She grinned, wickedly, and walked with her bottom rolling grandly to a shelf.  There, next to bottles of antiseptic and beneath a collection of neatly hung whips, was a small stack of towels.  She picked one up.  It was white.  She returned to where I stood and unfolded it slowly for me.  She let me run my hand over it.  It was fluffy.  
	ÒThis will protect your back,Ó Sherry said.  She wrapped the towel several times around the central beam.  It was a big towel and when she was done wrapping it there was no question it would stay put.  ÒUpsie daisy,Ó Sherry said.  She pushed on my bottom with her palm.  I did not want her to slap me again.  I stepped up with one foot, then both, on a low rung that hung, ladder like, near the base of the frame.  I think if IÕd thought about the fact that I was mounting a rape rack I would have run, or tried to escape, but my mind was awhirl with the burning in my bottom and the stiffness of my teats and the tingling of my cunny, with the closeness of Sherry, alternately my friend and foe, and Jeff, too, my master and, somehow, my worshipper.  He gazed with awed eyes as I turned my back to the rape rack and fitted my 14-year-old body into it.  The uppermost beam was a little high.  I had to stretch to reach it, leaning back, seeing if I could.  Just as I felt my fingers touching the rubber cuff waiting there, Sherry intervened.  Quickly, before my inquisitiveness faded, she bound the cuff round my wrists so that I could not escape.  Next a soft collar was put round my neck and my head was pinned back to a crosswise beam.  It ran parallel to the one my wrists were bound to.  I felt the small of my back press against the towel where my hips hit the central beam.  My bottom hung below that beam and, fearfully, I felt each of my feet lifted up and put on top of one of the toadstool-like footrests.  Quickly my ankles were bound with soft cuffs to keep my thighs wide apart.
	ÒWell, doctor, there you have her,Ó Sherry grinned at her husband.  I expected my tummy to have something bound over it, a wide belt perhaps, but it was left quite exposed.  Only my neck, my wrists, and my feet were collared or cuffed.  But to keep me wide apart Sherry ran decorative black ribbons out from the sides of the rack and around my bent knees.  I hoped they wouldnÕt hold me but, even if they broke, I was so distended and open that I had little hope of closing myself.  I was squatting, but with my arms drawn so high and my hips so awkwardly thrust out that I was as much hanging as squatting.
	ÒOh, you poor little cunt!Ó Sherry laughed.  She ran a finger over my cheek.  Our bottoms were still red from being ÔtoastedÕ by Jeff and I looked at her, hoping for mercy.  
	ÒPlease, Sherry,Ó I breathed.  My bosoms rose and fell with my every gasping breath.  ÒThis is interesting but, IÕm, IÕm quite sure IÕve had enough now,Ó I pleaded.  My mom had sent me to a Catholic elementary school and, strung up like this, I knew I was being too unladylike even for a rebellious 14-year-old.  I wished suddenly I was sitting back in 3rd grade, clad in my little saddle shoes and my neat blouse and dress.  IÕd count properly this time, and not make naughty words with the alphabet letters.  
	ÒDear, you must first learn to suck,Ó Sherry giggled.  She and Jeff were just making up games now, with me as their victim.  She walked casually to a shelf.  There was no hurry.  She picked up a huge dildo.  She walked back over to me but I was determined not to take it.  I feared she would make me choke on it.
	Sherry pushed the dildo against my belly button.  ÒI wonder if I should shove this up your ass first, to make it nice and tasty,Ó she asked me.  ÒOr will you be a good girl and practise your sucking on it just as it is?Ó  A shiver ran down me.  Sherry trailed the dildo up my front, tapping my ribs, snaking it up between my breasts.  As the tip reached my lips and she pried my lips apart with it I felt a sudden fullness in my belly.
	ÒSuck, honey, or pay the consequences,Ó Sherry said.  She introduced the huge cock into my mouth and took hold of my neck in the process.  I was at her mercy.  I tried my best to accpet the dildo, to not gag on it, to let her ease it in and then out of my mouth, slowly, training me.  ÒYou must suck very nicely if youÕre ever to suck my husband,Ó Sherry told me.  Suddenly, with my hips arched out as the cock was pushed into my mouth, I peed!  
	I could say nothing.  The penis filled my mouth and kept me from doing anything but breathe through my nose.  But, mortified, unable to cry or gasp with remorse, I felt my pee sprinkle down onto the hard stone floor.  
	Sherry laughed, stepped back a little to keep from getting her ankles splashed.  All the while she kept giving me dick in my mouth, making me accept the large penis even though I wanted it not at all.  What girl would want to have a big rubber phallus jammed in her mouth?  But I had no choice.  They were husband and wife and I was just their guest, picked for the weekend to entertain themselves with.
	Jeff struck me hard on my tummy with his switch even as I was still peeing.  I bucked.  My stream flung itself off course, then caught, nothing coming, then started again.  A long burning line impressed itself along my belly, running across it.  Jeff arched his wrist in again and struck me anew.  Part of the whipÕs length stung my thighs.  They were pulled apart and yanked back, but still jutted forward enough to catch part of the whipÕs fury.  Again and again Jeff hit my tummy, sometimes hard, sometimes less hard, each stroke deliberately placed as if to drive out of me any burgeoning eggs.  I was to leave without being enceinte.  Next weekend they would play with some one else.  I was just a toy.  Toys must not concieve.  
	Sherry drove the huge rubber penis in and out of my mouth.  Despite its hugeness it was infertile.  Jeff held his cock back from me and beat my tummy with his switch.  They were husband and wife.  It was for them to couple and conceive, for Sherry to give birth.  I was too young.  I must return to junior high and my school uniforms and textbooks.  I must not be a welfare mom at 14.  But I wanted Jeff, Jeff, Jeff.  And he said he wanted me.  Was he just torturing me to please Sherry?  Did he plan to come to me later, and fuck me privately?  Did he plan to sell Sherry at midnight to the mexicans to take down to Mexico and make into a slave?  My head spun and I felt each stinging, aching blow of JeffÕs switch as he laid it over my womb.  In my mouth I held a replica of his cock, but no matter how hard I sucked it, it gave nothing.  
	Wickedly, Sherry began tweaking my nipples.  Oh, must those be tortured too?  They stuck out so fine and delicate and desperate.  Was she jealous of them?  Hers were no less pretty, or excited.  But she tormented my nipples with her sharp fingertips, Jeff not stopping her.  I bucked against the rape rack.  I wanted down!  But always the switch kept coming, and now SherryÕs wickedly teasing fingertips, and the huge cock filling my mouth and making me suck it.  
	ÒYes, darling, you are a good little girl after all.  And youÕll go home when the weekendÕs over, wonÕt you?Ó Sherry asked me.  I had to nod Ôyes.Õ  I had no choice.  Her fingers at my nipples made sure I didnÕt disagree.  ÒAh, we should have blindfolded her on the way up here,Ó Sherry said to Jeff.  ÒThen she would truly just be a toy.Ó  She kissed my cheek.  ÒTake the whip away, dear, she has been good.  You are a good girl, Kelly,Ó Sherry told me.  
	Still making me suck on the big fake cock, Sherry ran her busy fingertips down to my clit.  With suave, feminine fingertips, but demanding fingertips, stroked and pricked around and within my cunny.  She made me buck even harder against the rack.  I was about to cum when she suddenly drew her hand away.
	ÒNaughty girl!  Do you think I want your spendings all over my hand?Ó Sherry asked me.  She drew the fake prick from my lips and slapped my face.  Not hard, just playfully, but leaving me panting on the rack with my belly and bottom burning and my mouth and cunny lips longing.
	ÒJeff, letÕs play,Ó Sherry said to her husband.  She drew him close, right in front of me.  I could only look on helplessly as they kissed.  Her hand stole to his and she drew the switch from his gasp.  I stared with frightened eyes.  Would she use it on me?  
	Their kiss ended.  Sherry stepped back, inverted the switch so she held the dangerous end in her palm, and prodded JeffÕs balls with the handle.  ÒYou, sir, are very full,Ó she told him.  He sighed.  His thing stuck out very big and quavering with his lust.  
	ÒSuck it,Ó he told her.  
	ÒOnly if you give me a good fucking afterward and ignore that little minx on the rack,Ó Sherry said to him.
	ÒAlright,Ó Jeff breathed.
	ÒNoooooo!Ó I cried.  But it was too late.  Sherry dropped at once to her knees and took possession of him.  Like a madwoman, fearful of losing his sperm to my womb, she yanked on his cock and fisted him and blew him as hard as she could with her lips.  Jeff groaned.  He wanted to hold on.  HeÕd promised his wife a sperming.  Yet now, with her mouth at his cock, Sherry seemed bent on making him explode.  
	A combat ensued.  It could be called nothing else.  Sherry abused JeffÕs cock with her mouth and lips and hands as he struggled to retain his seed.  SherryÕs hips twisted back and forth as she crouched before him.  She obviously needed pleasure very badly but she did not try to gratify her cunny with her hands.  She kept all her attention on JeffÕs cock and, seemingly, on making him spill right there, on the floor or in her mouth, anything to keep him away from me, to deplete him so that he would not wind up impregnating me.  For, of us all, Jeff was by far the strongest.  He was male.  We were just females.  He could order us about the dungeon at his whim.  So Sherry, given this chance, wanted to milk him.  She did not want to risk losing him to me again.
	I hung on the rack.  I bucked my hips.  I felt empty.  Even my mouth felt empty and remorseful.  I wanted.  I needed.  I was spread wide apart in a roomful of dildos and with a well-hung man, still holding his seed, and yet I was without.  I had only my open, empty holes.  And my little nipples, teasing me by sticking up like little fake cocks.  They looked like twin antennae, intent on recieving broadcasts that did not come.
	Sherry sat back suddenly on her heels.  She looked dolefully up at her husband.  She took his huge, fat sausage-like prick in one hand, doing her best to wrap her fingers around it.  With her other hand she steadied herself as she lifted her eyes up to his.  ÒHoney!Ó she whined.  ÒI want you to cum now.  Please donÕt hold back.Ó  She smiled.  She admired his strength.  He gasped, looking down at her, watching as she fingered his hard-on.  With her free hand Sherry reached between JeffÕs legs and palmed his balls.  His sac was huge.  She pushed up on it with her small open hand.  Then she closed her hand as best she could over it.
	ÒDarling, IÕm going to milk you now,Ó Sherry said to her husband.  ÒI want to see your sperm shoot out and I want you to give me everything you have.  Just shoot it in my face.  DonÕt hold back.  I want you totally empty, so I donÕt have to worry about you playing with Kelly anymore.  And I want her to be jealous, too.  I want her to see what a big husband IÕve got and how he just jets and jets when he cums.  And I want her to watch and know she can never, ever have even one drop of you up inside her cunny.Ó  She kissed the head of his cock.  And then, quite deliberately, she bit his head, not too hard, but just enough to let him know she could be mean if she wanted to.
	Jeff stood enthralled.  Despite a quick ÒouchÓ at being bitten, he seemed to like seeing his wife torment his cock, even if it did mean enduring an extraordinary pressure to release himself.  And, it seemed, as I watched now, she and he must have played this game before.  She tormenting him, begging him to cum, he holding out valiantly, impressing her with his reserve and his strength.  
	ÒDoesnÕt ANYTHING make you cum?Ó Sherry giggled.  She tried biting Jeff again.  But, despite a tremble that seized his buttocks and made them tense, he held on.
	SherryÕs big boobs hung down all white and lovely, eager at their tips for pleasure.  Her tummy moved softly with her breathing.  It was flat and begged to be swollen with his seed, I thought, looking at hers and feeling my own emptiness and my own need.  Frankly now she let one of her hands drop down to her cunny and she played with her cuntlips.  ÒCum, Jeff, IÕm waiting and ready for you,Ó Sherry teased.  She watched as her big man struggled with his cock in her hand, being blown by her lips, yet holding out, somehow.  I too felt mesmerized, watching, but always my need throbbed within me and I had to gasp at times with the painfulness of it.  Needing pleasure, and not getting it, is painful, in the end.  A kind of overwhelming sexual starvation washes over your erotic parts, and your head spins with lust.  I couldnÕt help bucking again and again on my rape rack.  Now I wished to be raped.  Please, somebody cum and stick your thing into me, anyone, and ram me full of yourself.  I didnÕt care about anything else anymore.  I peed again on the floor, seeking relief, but found none.  Sherry turned her head, watched me a moment, laughed.  
	ÒPee, then, honey, if you canÕt cum,Ó Sherry urged her husband.  ÒJust pee right on me.Ó
	ÒI can cum,Ó Jeff assured her.  ÒYouÕll get it right in the face any moment I want to give it to you.Ó
	ÒThen give it to me!Ó Sherry begged.  Like a wanton whore she mouthed his big cock and tried to stuff as much of him into her mouth as she could.  Jeff just watched, grinning, groaning, grinning again.  Their duel continued.
	I was left on the rack, tears rolling down my cheeks, my ass hanging down all naked and red and boldly exposed.  Periodically IÕd arch my hips out, offering my cunt.  It was open, like a flower, its petal-like lips hungry for pollen.  I gasped and cried out for love but nobody heard.  Down here, beneath the earth, the dungeon had been carved to keep the moans of tormented lovers from ever reaching the ears of the ÔmoralÕ people up above.  I wondered about Sherry and JeffÕs neighbors.  Did they even imagine that we were in a special room down beneath Sherry and JeffÕs house, torturing each other with our lust?  I could almost hear the wife nagging her husband, he lecturing her in response, while upstairs their son played video games and their daughter listened to discs.  She was hardly younger than me, dreaming of hunks while she flipped through Tiger Beat or Seventeen.  Yet I, down here, I was almost beside myself with Jeff.  He had bound me to this rack, made for rape, he had handled me, exposed me, made me frantic, and now he displayed himself, and his own desperation to me, quite openly, yet in such a way that neither of us found relief.  I yearned to switch places with her.  Let her show her breasts down here and let me retreat to the slumbering innocent solitude of her room.  But it was too late, too late, my pussy told me.  I must have what I came for, and it must cum inside me.
	Sherry stood up.  In a very business like fashion she clasped her husband around the head of his cock, right behind the flange, so that he could not escape her.  She led him over to a waist-high pillory and I saw, to my gasping surprise, that it was made not to clamp the neck or the wrists, or even the ankles, but the penis.  
	Sherry lifted the upper half of the pillory up, to give Jeff room to enter.  She smiled as she lifted it.  We girls didnÕt come equipped with anything to hold us to that particular pillory.  It must have been the only safe item for us in the entire dungeon.  It could not trap or keep us, but for men it was deadly.
	ÒI wonder what these grooves are for?Ó Sherry smiled.  She ran a fingertip down the far side of the pillory.  ÒA blade, donÕt you think, dear?  Too bad itÕs been removed.  That would keep any husband well-behaved.Ó  With a grunt Sherry pushed her husband in the small of his back.  At the same time, she threaded his cock with her fingers through the opening in the pillory.  Jeff felt his balls bump up against the side of the pillory closest to him.  ÒYes, dear,Ó Sherry pointed out.  ÒThe blade goes on the far side of the wood, so that when it slices down, removing the dick, the manÕs balls are preserved.Ó  She tickled the underside of his hairy eggs, and I realized for myself why the blade (or, rather, its grooves) ran down the opposite side of the wood where Jeff stood.  Guillotine-like, it could slice down, shortening a man quite considerably.  But if his balls were to be retained they would hang safely on the side of the wood next to his body.  Such strange games some past couple must have played, when a guillotine blade had actually been part of the pillory.  Now only the hole remained.
	With a firm, secure clap of wood upon wood, Sherry closed the upper half of the pillory down on its lower half.  Jeff winced.  The two halves would have been too snug for his cockhead to fit through, if kept closed.  So theyÕd been opened, heÕd been put through, and theyÕd been closed again.  Now he was tightly held.  The two halves of wood gripped at the base of his cock like the encircling mouth of a baby.  I could see that his shaft bulged a little where it extruded from the far side of the pillory.  Separated from him, JeffÕs precious organ stuck out like a stiff snake.  He looked down at it.  
	Sherry tickled the underside of JeffÕs cock.  ÒIs it too tight, honey?Ó she asked.  Her voice had a tone of mock sympathy in it.  Yet I knew she did not really want to hurt her husband.  At least, I hoped she didnÕt.  How awful it must have been for Jeff!  He had a huge banana of a cock, but now almost all of it was on the far side of the pillory, choked at the base by the clamping wood, the rest left to quiver untended, a hot dog in need of a bun.
	ÒItÕs... ItÕs tight but...Ó Jeff was awed by the fix his wife had put him in.  
	ÒIÕll bet I could play with you all day and youÕd never cum now,Ó Sherry said playfully.  She tickled JeffÕs penis and he groaned and threw back his head.  His buttcheeks, so slim and well-formed, seemed to contract right into his body.
	ÒI-I think youÕd still see something shoot out if I came,Ó Jeff said in a haggard voice.  How delightful it must be to have a husband and just play together, experimenting, I thought to myself.  Sherry bent low, mooning me with her bottom, and gave her husbandÕs prick a long, mouthing kiss where his purplish head jumped at the air.  When she arose I saw that yet more of her lipstick had been smeared on his penis.  And little boys think theyÕll never wear lipstick!
	ÒExcuse me, honey, but I have to take a little break,Ó Sherry said.  She stood opposite her husband and, with loving eyes, began rubbing her cunt with her fingers.  She glanced at me.  ÒThis isnÕt exactly ladylike, is it?Ó she laughed.  ÒBut I canÕt help it.  I have to have a little pleasure.Ó  Jeff and I watched with anguished eyes for several minutes as she played with herself.  She enjoyed letting us watch.  Then, realizing an opportunity was right in front of her, she faced her husbandÕs cock and introduced his head into her snatch.
	ÒWell, dear, it looks like IÕve got the upper hand now,Ó Sherry smiled at Jeff.  ÒYou WILL cum now, no question about it.Ó  Slowly, she drove the hard length of him up within herself.  Jeff grimaced and realized the battle was lost.  I saw a little relief touch at the corners of his mouth.  He was captive, he could do no more.  It was time now for him to simply enjoy, and let himself go.
	Sherry gasped as she felt the huge length of her husbandÕs penis drive up within her.  She was in control, yet he was so big, it was like being in control of the empire state building.  They were newly married.  She was still unused to his size.  Yet she bit her lip and soldiered on.  When he was quite well up inside her, she began to draw him back.  Then, with him just at her lips again, she sunk on him anew.  She would have to manage the strokes because he was fixed in place.  He was like a steer, clamped down so that he could be used to sperm all the cows.  Sherry bucked her hips at him and rode him more freely as she learned to accept him inside her body.  Suddenly, as she played, her eyes lit up.  Jeff was cumming!  Sherry pressed her lips right up to the hole in the wood where his cock stuck through.  She reached out and hugged JeffÕs shoulders and, straining, they clasped one another.  They kissed awkwardly, with the wood between their loins yet his penis inside her.  Jeff came and came and came, his buttocks straining and compact, his thing buried up inside Sherry where she could feel every last drop of him flooding her uterus.  Together they cried out.  They were in marital bliss, coupled, their loins working, hers clamping and sucking and his thrusting and pumping.  
	When at last their course was run Sherry backed herself off of JeffÕs cock.  I watched with saddened eyes as he slowly deflated and, at last, could simply remove himself from the pillory, without even asking Sherry to lift up the top half.  She brushed her hair back with her fingers.  A girl always looks classy doing that, even if sheÕs staring at a manÕs organ, wearing nothing herself, with sperm running down the insides of her thighs.  Sherry walked round to Jeff and clasped his balls and his penis.  She could cup both easily now.  ÒIÕm glad I didnÕt cut you off,Ó she smiled.  ÒWe do have a knife down here, you know.Ó  
	Jeff looked a little surprised.  But he said nothing.  He kissed her instead, letting her dream of knives if she wished.  She squeezed his cock, his eggs, possessively.  He was hers, after all, wasnÕt he?  And she was his.  Their kiss deepened and I was left to watch with envy as they shared a long and intimate embrace.
	The two of them looked at me when they finally separated.  ÒDo you think you could come up again so she could have her due?Ó Sherry asked her husband.  He nodded.  ÒThen she must be taken home,Ó Sherry said.  Jeff nodded again.  Rats.  
	Sherry walked up to me.  She kissed me lightly on the lips and ran a feathery hand over my forehead.  ÒJust relax, dear.  YouÕll get yours in a minute,Ó she said.  I gasped and she kissed my whimpering lips and walked away.  Her bottom, lovely and full and seemingly suspended atop her slim, column-like legs, rolled with womanly satisfaction.  She went to the table and picked up the empty bottle of champagne.  Grinning at me, she came back with it.  She stood beside me and put a finger within my mouth.  
	ÒSuck,Ó she told me.  I tongued her.  ÒThis should help a little,Ó she said softly, and put the neck of the bottle against my cunt lips.  Slowly I felt it start to intrude.  
	Jeff walked up to us.  I saw over SherryÕs finger that he was already getting hard again.  The obscenity of her fucking me with the bottle was arousing him.  He began to play with himself, enjoying the sight.  Gradually, as she shunted the bottle within me, making me moan and cry out, he lengthened and hardened.  
	ÒThere, youÕre both ready now,Ó Sherry whispered.  She removed the bottle from me but not her finger.  Jeff stood close, held himself, like a man about to urinate into a urinal.  I felt fingers part my pussy lips and then, quite boldly, a cock shove itself up inside my cunt.  
	I screamed.  I had wanted so long, and now he was here, breathing hotly on me, the hair of his massive chest against me, his thing up inside me.  I bucked at him, as if to push him away, but it only buried him deeper.  With quick, forceful strokes he fucked me.  I panted, Sherry all the while fingered my mouth.  At the same time she tickled her pussy anew.  We would all share this last orgasm together.
	In the depths of their dungeon I howled out.  They made me cum like an animal, a sheep being slaughtered.  Thier own cries mingled with mine.  Jeff pounded me fiercely.  His dick opened me in places IÕd never thought possible.  He was enormous inside me.  He split me wide and fucked me hard and his wife urged him to spoil me with his fierceness.  But I was not spoiled, unless in the way little girls are spoiled, by having daddies who give them everything.  
	Jeff shot all he had into me.  I swooned.  Sherry trilled in my ear as she fingered herself into bliss.  We forgot everything for awhile; names, relationships, personalities.  We were just our organs, Jeff shooting and me receiving and Sherry jamming her fingers up into herself.  Our bodies humped and heaved.  Our parts became us.
	ÒLet me help you down, honey,Ó Sherry said to me afterward.  With tender fingers she undid me from the rack.  I sighed.  Her voice was tremulous.  We were both coated with a sheen of sweat, which, having our senses back, the cool air of the dungeon quickly used to make us quite chilly.
	I looked at her.  Was my hair as unkempt as hers?  It must be.  Yet, their was a fullness to both our manes.  They seemed heathy.  I ran my fingers through mine when my hands were free and found a richness I had not sensed before.
	With light, almost amazed steps, I regained the dungeon floor and walked across it.  Jeff had left Sherry to undo me and gone up the ladder to get the door open.  I found myself looking up at his hairy butt, way up on the ladder.  I heard a thud as the trapdoor was pushed back and fell open against the floor of the study.
	Jeff climbed out.  I began up the ladder and Sherry followed me.  Suddenly, when I was almost at the top, I felt a spray of fluid hit my face.
	ÒJeff!Ó I cried out.  I looked up.  To my horror I saw he was peeing on me!
	ÒJeff!  Stop!Ó Sherry cried from down below.  We were both getting hit by his stream, me first and she secondarily, his pee dripping and splashing off me onto her.  
	There was no hope in getting Jeff to cut off his flow.  Like a little boy he gaily peed down on us.  I was forced to accept his urine all over my face and boobs.  There was no way for me to escape him.  I was stuck, high up on the ladder.  I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted my face back and forth but it was no use.  He seemed to catch me whichever way I turned my face.  He called down to me to open my mouth but I refused.  
	When at last Jeff had finished I climbed up the rest of the way.  Gallantly he reached into the hole and lifted me up by my hand and set me on my feet on the study floor.  Sherry followed.  We looked at each other and saw that we were both dripping with her husbandÕs pee.  
	ÒYour husband is a cad,Ó I told her.
	ÒJust be glad I didnÕt poop on you,Ó Jeff laughed.  He shut the trap door.  He pulled the throw rug over it.
	ÒLetÕs shower and take you home,Ó Sherry said to me.  She took my hand.  Together we walked to their bathroom.
	
	I was left off at the corner.  I walked the half block to my house by myself.  TheyÕd bought me clothes on the way back, Gap clothes, the kind mothers like.  My hair was in pigtails and my makeup was gone.  I had a sweatshirt on, with long sleeves.  I wore clam-digger pants, showing just my calves.  I had sneakers on and my laces were tied.
	ÒKelly!  Where have you been?Ó my mom asked as I banged through the screen door of our house.  She was home early, just as I feared.
	ÒI slept over at a friendÕs house,Ó I said casually.  
	ÒWell, you should ask my permission when you do that, dear,Ó my mom replied.  ÒWhose bike is that in the garage?Ó she asked.
	ÒOh,Ó I answered.  ÒJust a friend.Ó
	ÒNow I want you to go to the Mormon ChildrenÕs Sunday School this evening,Ó my mom told me.  ÒThere will be lots of nice boys and girls there your age.  Decent boys and girls, who will be a good influence on you.  I donÕt want you getting into any of the things most kids around here do.Ó
	I paused a moment.  Should I drop my pants and show her my red bottom, where IÕd almost been toasted alive on a bondage table?  Or lift my shirt, and show her the marks on my belly where Jeff had whipped me?  I decided not to.  I was feeling quiet, content.  My eyes were dreamy.
	ÒWhatever you want, mom,Ó I answered.  
	ÒMy, youÕre being good today,Ó my mom said.  ÒPerhaps you should sleep over more often.Ó
	I donÕt know if she guessed anything, but I never did have to go to sunday school and my mom put away her Mormon records.  We seemed to get along much better after that, and she never asked why I Ôshaped upÕ so nicely for her from then on, being polite and wearing the clothes she liked.  But, at the same time, she never questioned me when I happened to Ôsleep overÕ either.

THE END

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