[EditorÕs Note: You probably heard about the U.S. Troops going to Bosnia. But hereÕs a story you wonÕt get from the wire services. A Dreamgirls exclusive!]

Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
ÒSarajevo SexfestÓ

Chapter One

I had just finished up my semester at college when I got the call. My student job, with PCorps, was moving. My job was going to Bosnia, of all places, and did I want to come?
ÒWho else will be going?Ó I asked over the phone.
ÒThe whole office is pretty much being broken up and sent all over the place,Ó my staff sergeant answered. ÒYouÕll be thrown in with new people, all of you new to each other. It will be frantic, no doubt about it, trying to do logistics for U.S. personnel in the middle of Sarajevo. The place is a mess.Ó
ÒWell, I guess it would make for an interesting Christmas,Ó I answered, and with that I accepted. My staff sergeant was always quick to take ÔyesÕ for an answer, however tentatively it was expressed.
Personnel Corps (since renamed by us the Pussy and Penis Corps) arrived in Sarajevo. Everyone I met was new. We worked frantically for days. There was hardly any free time at all. And then, suddenly, it was the day before Christmas Eve. Someone had suggested a party. WeÕd all agreed. An office party would be just the thing to refresh us and lift our spirits.
ÒItÕs going to be themed, ÔThe Good Boys and Bad Girls Office Party,Õ a girl told me in the ladies bathroom. She gave me all the details, which sent my head spinning. Some girl had a very naughty brain. I wasnÕt sure I wanted to attend, after hearing what was in the works. Soon after I met my favorite guy, a U.S. Colonel who was one of the higher-ranking men assigned to our office. It was a strange mixture, a lot of ranks had been thrown in together for their needed talents, with little regard being paid to rank.
ÒWhy are you so worried?Ó he asked in his fatherly way. He was on the cusp of 40, with just a touch of grey in his hair. ÒIÕm sure its mostly just crazy fun.Ó
ÒThey say if youÕve never been, never been--Ó I couldnÕt get it out of my mouth, the words were so new to me.
ÒA bad girl?Ó he smiled.
ÒThen you have to be.Ó
ÒWell, if it needs to be done, IÕll do it for you,Ó he replied. ÒDoes that make you happy?Ó
ÒYes,Ó I answered. I pressed myself to his chest, as I done several times in the past couple of days. ÒAnd do it in private,Ó I added. ÒSo no one will see.Ó
ÒIn private,Ó he answered. He ran his hand down the soft mane of my blonde hair and onto my back. Then he lifted his other palm and gently cupped my fanny. With little effort he found the tail of my skirt and slipped his hands beneath. I gasped as his palms found the proud orb of my bottom.
ÒMmmm, cotton panties,Ó he said. His voice broke as he said it. ÒDid you know youÕre young enough to be my daughter?Ó
ÒI know,Ó I answered.
ÒYouÕve been wearing shorter and shorter skirts these last few days,Ó he gently scolded me.
ÒMmmm,Ó I acknowledged. I pressed my small face deeper into his broad girth of chest. I found my fingers gripping to his shirt as if it were a cliff face that I might fall off of.
ÒYour panties only cover half your bottom!Ó he discovered suddenly, his voice croaking a little. It was as if he were discovering the deficiencies of his own daughterÕs underwear, the way he said it. His finger explored the top of my panties and then slipped beyond, into the groove of my pumpkin. He shuddered a moment, as if surprised at himself for suddenly having a finger in the ass of a girl half his age. I think he blamed me for it.
ÒYouÕre already naughty,Ó he whispered to me.
ÒI know,Ó I breathed. I kissed his chest. He lifted his hand and gave my bottom a little slap. I bounced under the blow, over-reacting by far, but it seemed to strike into my very core.
ÒDid you wear them for me?Ó he asked suddenly.
ÒPerhaps,Ó I answered. I found my thumb and stuck it into my mouth.
ÒIf I see you dropping lots of stuff on the floor today, in front of the other guys, IÕm going to take charge of your morals, just like I would my own daughtersÕ,Ó he warned me.
I pressed myself closer to him. Close as I could. ÒWhatever you say, sir,Ó I answered.
He pushed me back from him. His hands returned to my waist, held me chastely there. He looked down at me, into my eyes. ÒIÕm serious,Ó he said to me.
ÒI know you are,Ó I answered. ÒThatÕs why youÕre my best friend.Ó I circled my finger over his starched shirt. I longed to open it. ÒBecause youÕre older than me, and very serious, and you work very hard, and devote your life totally to the Army.Ó
ÒThatÕs enough,Ó he replied. He pushed me back, clearly unsettled. I saw that his pants were bulging hugely, bigger than any manÕs IÕd ever seen. I gazed at him, my breasts filling my tight blouse, big as melons. I straightened my skirt with my hands.
ÒWe still have a lot of work to do,Ó he said, all business-like again. ÒGet those reports off to General Lampkins.Ó
ÒOkay, sir,Ó I smiled.
ÒAnd quit calling me Ôsir,ÕÓ he scolded me. ÒYouÕre a civilian.Ó
ÒMmmm, I like it,Ó I teased. I turned to go. ÒBye, bye, sir.Ó
ÒNot for as long as youÕd like,Ó he threatened. His hands fingered his belt buckle. ÒYouÕre lucky youÕre not my daughter.Ó
ÒI know,Ó I answered. I blew him a kiss before I disappeared around the hall.
***
The staff sergeant for our newly assembled PCorps was a woman. She told me that evening that tomorrowÕs party, after a few hours of work, was going to be styled a ÒPunishment Party.Ó There were about 20 of us in PCorps, in our own, hastily-rehabbed building.
ÒWell, I donÕt like the name,Ó I said. ÒWhatever happened to ÔGood Boys and Bad Girls?Õ
ÒThatÕs the name of the party,Ó she answered. She was very beautiful for a staff sergeant, a tall, big-bosomed redhead. But she had a fierceness about her that scared me sometimes. ÒThe type of party that it is is a punishment party. DonÕt worry, just do what I tell you. YouÕll have a lot of fun. I can see youÕve never been to one before.Ó She grinned at me, cat-like.
ÒWell, I could use a break from all this work,Ó I mused. I fingered the hem of my dress.
ÒDonÕt be such a goody-goody girl,Ó the staff sergeant, whose name was Linda, replied. ÒItÕs a bad girl party, and I expect you to be a little bad, at least.Ó
The next morning I got up early. I thanked God when I found the shower to be giving hot water. I did my hair after bathing, brushing it until it had a luster and sheen I hadnÕt bothered to give it in many days of relentless work here in Sarajevo. I pinned it up, loosely, to give it a slightly more formal appearance. Then I applied my makeup and lipstick as carefully as I could. Time was short, there was a big pile of logistics work that had to be gotten through before we could have our party. I left for the office, escorted by two servicemen who walked with me the short distance from my flat to the building where we all worked.
About noontime a tiny tangle of fabric was deposited on my desk. I looked up, saw Linda.
ÒWhatÕs this?Ó I asked. My thoughts were far away, on some gasoline drums that were stuck in Croatia.
ÒItÕs what youÕll be wearing to the party,Ó she answered. ÒPut it on.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó I gasped. I picked up the little pile of strings and looked at it. It was a teensy bikini panty, smaller even than the naughty undies the Colonel had caught me wearing.
ÒIÕm not sure I want to wear this under my dress. It looks so small that it might be uncomfortable.Ó
Linda laughed. Her breasts heaved with her laughter and I saw that today she wasnÕt wearing any bra under her green army uniform. ÒGo to the ladies room and take everything off,Ó she said. ÒCome back wearing that, nothing else. ThereÕs a hamper in there for your clothes. Sorry, but there arenÕt really any hangers around here to hang things up. Anyway, I want to make sure all the girlsÕ clothes are put away. WeÕre going to lock the hamper afterwards, to make sure.Ó
I didnÕt know what to say. I just stared at the panties. Then the Colonel walked by. He stopped at my desk. There was a knowing look on his face.
ÒI at least need a bra,Ó I said in a half-whisper to Linda.
ÒNo you donÕt, dear. ItÕs a punishment party. What better way to show your vulnerability to the men by greeting them with your breasts bare, and your tender nipples stiff? If they find you unpleasant, or unwilling, they can always tweak them for you, to improve your behavior.Ó
I watched the Colonel walk on to his office. ÒWhat will the men be wearing?Ó I asked.
ÒTheir best uniforms, of course,Ó she answered. ÒNow march your ass into the bathroom and be back here on the double.Ó She rounded the corner of my desk, hefted me from my seat, and gave me an all-too-friendly slap on my fanny. I looked at her accusingly. ÒSue me for sexual harassment, sister,Ó she answered. I saw that I had no choice but to go change, or go run home to my flat and spend Christmas by myself. I gulped, and headed for the bathroom.
Several other girls were already there.
ÒI can barely get this thing on!Ó one girl complained. She was nude, standing on the tiled floor in her best heels, and trying to adjust the mischievous bits of fabric so they at least left something to the imagination.
ÒAt least the back isnÕt a thong,Ó a second girl said. She glanced over her shoulder and carefully pulled the material of her panties as wide as she could, managing to cover a good two-thirds of her heinie.
ÒTry walking in them. TheyÕll bunch up in your ass-crack in no time,Ó a third girl said ruefully. ÒLisa! Get your things off, dear. The partyÕs almost ready to start!Ó she urged me.
ÒI need a break,Ó the first girl said. SheÕd finally made her peace with the panties. She smoothed her hands across her flat belly. ÒMaybe I can get pregnant and get out of this war.Ó
ÒDonÕt tell the colonel,Ó the second girl replied. ÒHeÕll make sure you only get fucked up the ass if you let on you want out.Ó
ÒIÕm getting it right up my cunt,Ó the third girl announced. She turned to the bathroom mirror and gave her hair a quick brush. Her nude boobs bounced springily. She was no more than 20, a new enlistee. Rumor had it sheÕd slipped through boot camp as effortlessly as a knife slicing butter, thanks to a friendship that kept her Ôtied upÕ in office training, away from the rigors of the parade ground. I think there were a few girls in our unit whoÕd gotten special passes through boot camp, for their arms were a slim as their breasts were big, and they couldnÕt lift anything more than I could.
ÒWell, IÕm not so sure about all this,Ó a smaller girl answered. She cupped her firm breasts and felt their weight on her palms. ÒIÕm only 16, you know. I ran away from home and got signed into the army by a nice sergeant who didnÕt make me do anything. I just got assigned here, though my paperwork shows that I spent 16 weeks at Ft. Stomper.Ó
ÒYou had an easier time than me, then,Ó I teased her. I lifted off my blouse and unhooked my bra. ÒI had to trek all the way down to the student-aid office and fill out a whole page of information to get this job.Ó I liked her the best, I think, of all the girls, though I was two years older than her. She was young and naive, like me. Her name was Elizabeth, but everyone called her Missy.
The girl at the mirror turned and gave Missy a slap on the rear with her hairbrush. ÒYouÕre in the army now, honey. YouÕll get your training one way or another.Ó Her name was Sally. As missy assuaged her wounded bottom Sally turned her about and led her out. ÒCome on, darling,Ó Sally ordered.
ÒSee you at the party,Ó the remaining girl told me. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. Her name was Chantra, an Indian name. It matched her dark hair, though her skin was as white as mine.
ÒOkay,Ó I answered. Neatly I folded my clothes and then plopped them in the hamper. I found SallyÕs hairbrush, quickly repaired my own locks, and departed.
The thing about wearing such small panties is that they didnÕt quite cover the whiteness of my skin that usually lay beneath my bathing suit. As I entered the special office reserved for our party, I felt self-conscious at how my Florida suntan contrasted so noticeably with my semi-visible bunny-tail bottom.
ÒI see you didnÕt get a large enough size again,Ó the colonel said laughingly to me. I saw him, blushed, tugged at the back of my panties. Already they had snuck partway into the furrow of my bottom, making me even more visible in behind. He reached down and traced a finger over my white skin that was on display in front, where my beach bikini would have more modestly covered me.
ÒIÕm doing my best, sir,Ó I answered. ÒThis party wasnÕt my idea, you know. In fact, if I had my way, IÕd take off these danged panties right now, theyÕre such a nuisance.Ó
ÒYes,Ó he grinned. I blushed again.
ÒI mean, to put my skirt back ON,Ó I added hastily.
ÒGiven your poor choice of panty sizes, I guess itÕs just as well you didnÕt try for a matching bra,Ó the colonel mused. As freely as if I were his wife he put his hands to my breasts and rolled my tense nipples between his fingers.
I raised my hand to slap him for his forwardness. Linda, stepping up onto a desk in her heels, interrupted my intention by ringing a little bell. Her uniform was gone, she wore only the de rigueur panties, her own as small and useless as mine were. I saw the cupping of her snatch where her panties made themselves useful on her otherwise nude body. LindaÕs bounteous breasts shook with her ringing of the bell. Her red hair bounced gaily, she seemed in an exceptionally good mood.
ÒGirls, and gentlemen. DonÕt feel too smug, guys. YouÕre forbidden to take out your equipment in the party room, which IÕm sure will make you quite uncomfortable. ItÕs intended to. This is a punishment party for both sexes, not just us females. WeÕre going to celebrate Christmas the old fashioned way, like back in the 1800Õs, when SantaÕs purpose wasnÕt just to bring toys for good children. He also brought a switch for bad children, and used it, so theyÕd be good next year.Ó The little crowd of men in uniforms and almost-naked girls gathered around Linda as she spoke. The room was large, festooned with ornaments from the U.S., with a big Christmas tree in one corner, that had yet to be decorated. ÒWeÕll be trimming the tree together,Ó Linda continued. ÒWe girls who surreptitiously decked out this room during the last few days didnÕt have time to get to everything, so we saved the tree as a special party treat. I hope you men donÕt mind giving us a hand on this. WeÕll need your help if weÕre to get all those trimmings right up to the top of the tree, not to mention putting a star atop it. And since weÕre bad girls, weÕll be rubbing your crotches whenever we can, right through until the tree is trimmed, which should take some time, IÕm sure. YouÕll probably cream in your pants, men, so donÕt fight it. ItÕs a punishment party, after all. I just hope you can re-fill for the favors that youÕll want to give us later in the evening. IÕve ordered lots of eggnog, to help out. Drink and be merry.Ó She rang the bell again, as if to bring her remarks to a formal conclusion. A kind of stunned silence reigned over the men a moment, shocked that they would be put in the predicament of sperming their own uniforms. And then somebody turned up the music, and the festivities began.
At the colonelÕs encouragement I circulated as freely in the room as the other girls did. The men fondled me as I stood exchanging small talk with them, or with other girls. And, like the other females, I took the liberty of massaging each manÕs crotch. It was more fun that I could imagine, knowing he couldnÕt unzip himself, and was scared to death of cumming in his pants. Every time a man came he was given a celebratory splash of eggnog in the face. When I got back to the colonel he was trembling on the brink of his own ejaculation. Missy was working his crotch, absently, a finger in her mouth.
ÒWell, I liked the Little Mermaid movie best when I was little...Ó she was saying absently, pursuing some train of thought that held no interest for me but apparently captivated the colonel.
ÒMissy,Ó I said to her. ÒGo get some eggnog. I think our friend here is about to cum in his pants.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó she answered naively. She did not realize that while she was getting the eggnog I would have the pleasure of finishing him off. She turned and headed off for the drinks table. I saw that her panties were completely wedged inside her cute little ass. The colonel watched her retreating bottom with awestruck eyes.
ÒItÕs time I bring you off before you get the idea of porking an underage minor,Ó I told him. I grasped his bulging crotch and squeezed it hard.
ÒI already have it,Ó he answered.
ÒWhat? YouÕve cum already?Ó I asked. There was disappointment in my voice.
ÒNo, I mean I want to fuck that adorable bottom of hers,Ó he said. His loins surged toward me as he felt my hand work him, his eyes still pasted on MissyÕs behind.
ÒWell, let me see if I can fix that,Ó I said. I rubbed his bulge with vigor.
ÒOh, God, donÕt make me do it in my pants,Ó he said, turning his eyes to me. ÒIÕm a 40-year-old man. It would be totally humiliating. What if we get a visit from the general, or get called outside? I havenÕt cum in my pants since I was 13.Ó
I massaged him relentlessly, unmoved. ÒDidnÕt you know this was going to be called a Ôpunishment party?ÕÓ I asked him.
ÒYes, but, I thought --Ó
ÒThat only us girls would get punished, hmmm?Ó I asked him.
ÒYes,Ó he croaked. I could see he was truly just moments from spurting now, unless I quickly unhanded him. I did not.
ÒDoes this make me a bad girl?Ó I asked him. I felt his loins stir with a special urgency, and suddenly I sensed wetness within his trousers.
ÒYes, it definitely does,Ó he answered me. Our eyes met. As I continued to work him our lips came together, me rising on tiptoe, he leaning down. We kissed passionately as he jetted into his uniform pants.
Taking me by the hand, he led me to a private office. Carefully IÕd kept my panties pretty well covering my behind, but now he turned me around. He pushed me toward the desk in the small office. ÒTake down your panties and climb up on the desk,Ó he said. His voice was uncompromising in its tone. I heard him unbuckle his belt behind me.
ÒOh, even my father never spanked me!Ó I pleaded suddenly. I tugged at the bottom of my panties, unsure.
ÒI promised you that it would be private, not that it wouldnÕt be done,Ó he replied. I heard his belt slither out of its belt loops. There was no need for him to undress. He was soft at the moment, thanks to my wickedness.
I looked back over my shoulder at him. I ran my fingers over my seat, grateful suddenly for the fabric, however small, that covered it. ÒCanÕt it be done with my panties on?Ó I asked. ÒIt will hurt even more if I take them off.Ó