From roller666@aol.com Sat May 03 19:39:45 1997
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From: roller666@aol.com (ROLLER 666)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: rare dreamgirls 11
Date: 3 May 1997 23:39:45 GMT
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         I lifted my chin.  I told myself to have confidence.  This was my
first assignment, and I didn't want to blow it.  With a toss of my head to
give myself assurance, I stepped out from behind the roses.
         "Ah, how cute!" a woman exclaimed.  There was a round of
applause.  I blushed, walked as straight as I could, was aware of my hips
swaying nicely.  My boobies were bouncing almost as freely as if they were
uncontained, and I glanced down to make sure the bra still held them.  It
did.  
         Albert handed me a big straw bonnet, with a ribbon and large bow
of blue silk.  I guessed he wanted me to put it on.  I did, then spun once
on my heels for him to let him admire me with it.
         "You design the most delicious little bikinis," a woman said to
Albert.  Ah, he was a fashion designer, I guessed.  He smiled.  At her, at
me.
         "The hat is my design also," he replied.
         "So it is," she answered, but her eyes remained on my swimsuit.  
         "It's best not to get this material wet," Albert said to her.  
         "No, but what self-respecting girl swims at the beach anyway?"
the woman answered.  She stuck out her finger, hooked the front of my
panties.  She pulled them open, my bush showed.  She let go and the
panties snapped shut.  "Nice pull on the strings."
         "Yes, they have a certain elasticity to them, though not too
much," he replied.  "The bikini is mainly for show, as you said, to
attract attention."
         "Speaking of which, I know a certain creature who hasn't gotten
any attention at all this evening," the woman said.  Albert nodded, as if
giving permission.  "Jill, please let out Popeye, its time for his weekly
bath," the woman called.  A second woman nodded, disappeared a moment.  I
thought nothing more of the exchange, let someone hand me a glass of
sherry and was just sipping it when a small terrier came bounding out onto
the lawn.  He startled me by barking at me and made a beeline for the
grass between my heels.  He leapt up and sniffed actively at my crotch.
         I nearly dropped my glass!  It was so mortifying, me in a little
nothing bikini, everyone else lavishly, expensively dressed, with a pooch
sniffing out my pussy as if I were a bitch in heat!
         "Barbi," the woman with Albert said to me, drawing my attention
from the dog even as he stood and put his paws on my thighs and sniffed my
cunt up close.  "Please take your bikini off to keep it from getting wet,
and give Popeye here his bath."  Albert handed me a small copper bucket
for bathing the dog.  It was empty.  He pointed to a marble-topped table
nearby.  
         "You can wash him there," he said.  "Popeye expects the very best
treatment."
         What could I do?  I was embarrassed, but then I couldn't say no,
could I?  I hoped they'd be paying me well for this.  I reached down and,
with a grunt, picked Popeye up in my arms, still holding the bucket.  At
least in my arms he wouldn't sniff my cunt, I figured, but the rude dog
immediately began pawing my breasts.  With him struggling, clutching him
as best I could, I walked over to the marble table.  I put him gently down
on it.  I didn't want to just drop him.  His owner obviously thought the
world of him.  Popeye stood on his four legs atop the table, ardently
sniffing at my breasts, as if I might feed him.  Stepping back,
remembering what Albert had said about the bikini, I reached back and
reluctantly untied my top.  My breasts spilled free.  Popeye showed as
much interest in them as did the guests.  My nipples stuck out invitingly.
 I kept back from the table so he wouldn't try to take one in his mouth.
         Next I undid my panties.  Again, I felt the eyes of the guests
stare appreciatively, smugly perhaps, as I revealed myself to them, me all
naked while they remained dressed to the nines.  Carefully I hung my
bikini up on a little iron railing that formed a fence running behind the
table.  It separated a part of the yard from some valuable private
vineyard grapes that grew just beyond; a small collection of grapes that
Albert used to create his own wines.
         Bucket in hand, I traipsed across the lawn to a faucet set in the
outside wall of the house.  I had not removed my heels.  I remembered
Kimberly's advice.  I bent down, was conscious of my bottom splaying out
behind me, showing all, leaving nothing to their imagination now.  The
guests watched me, sipping their drinks.  Popeye stood on his table, his
tail wagging furiously.  I turned on the tap and filled my little copper
bucket.  Then I stood, hefted it, and returned to Popeye.  He was eager to
see me.  I found that someone had placed a bar of Hartz flea soap on the
table, already unwrapped.  I did not see any gloves for my hands.  I
guessed I was to use my bare fingers.  I tossed my hair.  I brushed it
from my eyes, wishing I had barrettes or something to hold it up.  The dog
watched me.  I saw that he had an erection between his legs.
         "Alright, Popeye," I said to him, feeling awkward, silly.  "It's
time for your bath, boy, and I want you to behave for me, okay?"  He was a
cute little critter, I had to admit.  I just wished he didn't have his
thing sticking out between his legs.  I lifted him up.  He poked his nose
enquiringly at my stiff nipples.  I stood him in the bucket.  His legs
separated widely.  I could only get one paw in, the bucket was too small
for both, with his antics.  "Come on, boy, be good and sit in the bucket,"
I scolded.  But he would not comply.  His legs remained wide, he humped
his hips at me, hoping to make contact with his thing.
         I set him back on the table.  He wagged his tail.  The table was
low enough that he could stand and sniff my pubic hair, and he did so with
relish.  I picked up the copper bucket and doused him with some of the
water in it.  He wagged his little tail, still entranced by my cunny.  I
picked up the bar of soap and began rubbing him with it.
         "Alright boy, it's time for your doggie bath, stand still," I
ordered him.  I had to let him sniff at my pussy to keep from dancing
about on the table.  I rubbed him fast as I could, hoping to finish
quickly.
         "Take your time, dear, he likes lots of loving tenderness," the
woman with albert admonished me.  I glanced over my shoulder at her.
         "Alright," I answered.  I rubbed more slowly.  Popeye seemed to
grin up at me, pleased with my handling of him.  His erection remained
quite noticeable.
         I scrubbed away.  Popeye wriggled from my grasp occasionally,
making me dash about the table to recapture him.  Thankfully, he did not
jump down to the lawn.  I worked my fingers deep into his fur and bent
once to rub noses with him, just to keep him from acting up on me. 
Finally I rolled him over, and doused him again, then set to work on his
ribs and tummy.  He seemed to like this best.  He let his legs lie open
and didn't fight me as I massaged him generously all over, avoiding only
his cock.
         "Do his balls too, please," Albert's woman told me, seeing I was
missing his thing.  "And his penis.  Don't mind that it's out.  Just rub
along it like you would a man's.  You have washed a man's organ before,
haven't you?" 
         "Uh, ummm, yeah," I answered, not sure actually, just trying to
comply.  I felt awful, my ass sticking out as I bent over the table, my
breasts dangling down, full and heavy.  Popeye brushed them with his
tongue.
         "Down boy," I said, though he was already on his back.  I rubbed
his genitals then, and he wriggled blissfully.  He lapped at my breasts. 
He ejaculated into my hands.
         "Ewww, yuck!" I cried, standing up quickly.
         "If your hands weren't soapy I'd make you lick them clean,"
Albert's woman told me.  "He's our favorite dog, and you're only here for
the night."
         "Yes, ma'am," I replied.  God!  Eat a dog's sperm?!  I wanted to
run from the yard right then, but realized I had no clothes on at the
moment.  A slight deterrence, to be sure.
         I picked up the bucket and poured its remaining contents onto
Popeye, cleansing his genitals.  I was going to go get more water when
Albert's woman came up behind me and tapped me lightly in the small of my
back.
         "Kneel up on the table," she said.
         I turned my head, my hair flying in a whirl of surprise. 
"What?!" I asked.  There was a look of shock on my face.
         "Kneel up on the table, doggie-style," she said again.  
         "But, he's..." I looked at Popeye.  He was on his feet again, all
fours, looking eager and wagging his tail.  I saw that his little
ejaculation a moment ago had done nothing to dim the ardor of his cock.
         I heard a brief whistle, felt a sudden sting burn itself into my
bottom.  I stiffened.  The woman had a riding crop!
         "ON the table," she said again.  I complied.  Fearful, surrounded
by my former friends at the party (or so I'd imagined them, though we'd
exchanged only first names), I got on the table.  I felt the cold,
uncompromising marble under my hands.  Someone moved the bucket away and
put a small pillow for me on the table.  Sensing I must, I lowered my face
to it.  I grabbed the corners of the pillow with my sperm-sticky fingers. 

         "Oh no, please don't," I begged.  The woman pressed upon my back,
making my bottom bulb more, offering it to the dog.  Happily he sniffed at
my cunt, able to enjoy it directly now, in its most advantageous position.
 The woman placed her palms on the insides of my thighs, pushing the dog
aside a moment, and prepared me for him, opening my legs nice and wide.
         "We would never fuck you, darling, but you are good enough for
our dog," she teased.  I was humiliated beyond my wildest imaginings.  I
shuddered, I begged for them not to do it.  I gazed into the eyes of the
guests, so recently my equals, or so it seemed, and they stared back,
uncaring.  Uncaring but deeply, profoundly amused.
         Popeye got up on his hind legs.  Several women giggled.  He
presented himself.  
         "No, GOD!" I begged.  I felt his awful thing nudge my cunt.  And
then it pushed within.  "Aaaack!" I cried.  I wanted to leap up, but a
woman had gripped me by the back of my neck, and held my face pressed
down.  Behind me I heard Albert's woman swishing her crop menacingly.  I
knew the punishment would be severe, worse than I'd ever had, if I denied
her doggie his after-bath treat.  Trembling uncontrollably, I felt him
thrust inside.  He had a small thing, it didn't go very deep.  He pressed
close, mounting me proudly.  I felt his paws pressing down on my rump. 
Vigorously he began spearing me.
         "No!  No!  No!  Oooooh, God!" I cried suddenly, and popped my
thumb in my mouth.  I tasted his cum.  It revolted me, but I was more
terrified my his thing in my cunt.  In a few moments I felt him spurting. 
And then, after a few more strokes, he got down again.  
         I leapt up.  I dropped to the grass and went running into the
house.  I ran to where I thought the kitchen might be, found it, and
furiously I rinsed out my mouth.  Albert's woman found me there.
         "Come upstairs, I will bathe you," she said to me.  She spoke
nonchalantly.  She still held her crop.  I rose from the sink and followed
her, feeling utterly, totally abject and despondent.
***
         My bath was long and loving.  Albert's woman, telling me I'd done
very well in the yard, introduced herself as Elspeth.  A strange, uncommon
name, I felt, for a strange, uncommon woman.  The suds of the bath got on
her.  She knelt outside the tub, insisted on washing me with her own
hands.  With no washcloth.  Just her fingers, long, expert, playing over
my tummy, my breasts, delighting in the stiffness of my nipples.  She
douched me too, an intimate experience.  I felt tender, vulnerable.  She
kissed me when she was done.
         Elspeth got me out of the bath and dried me with a rough towel. 
She brushed my hair.  Then, walking me to the medicine cabinet, she opened
it.  I saw a dog's collar lying there.  It was black with little silver
studs.  She made me stand still while she buckled it around my neck.  
         "Come, time for bed," she said.  She took me into the next room. 
Someone had undone the bed while we were in the bathroom.  The sheets
looked cool, inviting.  She picked up the bed's pillow and fluffed it. 
She told me to put my heels back on.  They were standing by the bedside,
new and fresh, cleaned up after my adventure in the yard.  Someone had
taken care of them for me.  I put them on, sat on the edge of the bed and
buckled myself into them.
         "You have another canine friend who'd like to meet you," Elspeth
said to me.  I started, looked up.  A big dog came bounding into the room.
 My legs were spread slightly and he sniffed at them.  I patted his head,
not knowing what else to do.  Elspeth hovered over me.  She had her crop
again.  She held it twixt her fingers like some valuable, which no doubt
it was, for otherwise I would have fled from the room at once.
         "Please get in bed," Elspeth told me.  "And don't deny yourself
to Rover, here.  You two will be spending the night together."  I looked
up at her.  There was no possibility of a change of heart, I could see. 
Two guests entered the room, both male, big strapping fellows.  I looked
at them.  They saw my resistance.
         "Get in," one of the men ordered me.  I stood.  I turned and
crawled into bed.  Rover jumped up on the bed beside me.  I put my arms
around him to try to settle him.  I lay back.  Licking my face, he got
himself on top of me.  I kept my thighs pressed tightly together, lest he
should get any ideas.  
         "What do you think, gentlemen?  Is she a fair mount for him?"
Elspeth asked the two men.
         "Good enough," one of them answered, infuriating me.  Rover
lapped my nose, oblivious to their presence.
         "Let's let them enjoy each other's company awhile," Elspeth said.
 "Take out your cocks, men, and I'll rub them a little for you."  I
glanced over at her.  Rover licked my nose, tried to get his belly as
firmly against mine as he could.  I felt a pressure upon my pubis, a
probing.  "When you're ready, darling," Elspeth said to me.  "I enjoy
playing with a dog all night before I let him mount me, but you may be
more eager.  Get up on your hands and knees when you feel the moment has
arrived.  I like seeing a girl getting it from behind."
         I returned my gaze to Rover.  He licked me ardently.  His tongue
tickled my nose.  I giggled, despite myself.  The men got out their cocks.
 I looked, cursing myself.  They were big.  Elspeth seated herself on a
chair between them and, with them standing on either side of her, she
began frigging them.
         After a bit the men were groaning.  Drinks were brought by a maid
and Elspeth ceased her ministrations so that the men could enjoy a
breather.  I was allowed to get up too, and I sat on the edge of the bed,
sipping Sherry.  The men drank standing up.
         "Is it not wonderful?" Elspeth asked me, honestly, as Rover
helped himself to a tongue-lapping drink from my glass.
         "Rover!" I shouted.  I whacked his nose with my hand.
         "Don't be mean to him, darling, or I'll flay that lovely hiney of
yours," Elspeth warned me.
         "You don't really expect me to let a big dog like this fuck me?"
I asked.
         "Either that or the crop," she answered.
         "How many strokes?" I asked.  Absently I raised my glass to my
lips and sipped, then spit it back out, realizing I'd drunk from the same
glass as a dog.
         "I must be in a forgiving mood," Elspeth said, considering. 
"Thirty strokes, all well-delivered, no easy ones.  What do you say?"  I
sat balancing my glass, wondering if I might steal away for a bath before
she got underway.
         "Anything would be better than getting fucked by this dog," I
answered at last.  It seemed strange, bartering for my bottom.  Did I wish
a dog's cock up it, or a crop across it?  Neither seemed very pleasant to
me."
         "You're being paid, darling," Elspeth said to me.  "I intend to
amuse myself with you, and that's all there is to it.  You didn't come
here for a slumber party, you know."
         "Alright," I said at last, feeling a strange, grown-up feeling. 
"But not TOO hard."
         "Just for that I'll give the last three extra hard," she replied.
 I stood.  I set my glass in the bed, precariously, the covers holding it
in an impromptu arrangement of curves and bulges.  Rover and I had quite
distinctly messed the bed up, with his antics and my resistance.  
         "May I take a bath first?" I asked.  "He's been licking me all
over."  I felt his tongue lave up the crack of my hiney and batted it
away.
         "You may do whatever you like first," she answered.  "But you
won't get paid any more for staying longer, however long you dawdle
about."
         "A quick one, then," I answered.  I hurried into the bathroom,
got the water on, stepped in.  I felt free in the shower.  I let the steam
engulf me, felt the water cleanse me all over, thankfully.  Espeth's two
gentlemen friends stepped into the bathroom to monitor me.
         "Don't play with yourself," one warned me.  He drew back the
shower curtain to make sure I complied.  They watched me soap myself.  I
liked being watched.  They could not fuck me.  They were achingly,
drippingly hard.  But they could only look at me.  And they could not play
with themselves, either.  Their cocks were reserved for Elspeth's fingers.
 They were, in their own way, as much her slaves as I was.  I wondered if
they might liberate me, kidnap me and steal away with me.  But they did
not.  They seemed to enjoy their slavery.  I was probably just one of many
young girls they got to enjoy in their slavery to Elspeth.  They obeyed
her in every respect, and she fed them cunts in return.  Young cunts, like
mine.
         When I was done they dried me.  Then they took me back out to the
bedroom.  The dog was gone.  The sheets had been changed.  Elspeth,
wearing a long, flowing black gown, with a high collar, waited by the bed.
 She lifted her hand, took mine, helped me into it.
         "On your knees, dear," Elspeth told me.  "This bed isn't for
sleeping in, not tonight, not for you.  It is merely a platform, hopefully
a comfortable one.  I see no need to discomfit you, save where it is
intended.  You may rest your pretty head on this pillow.  Your knees may
push into the softness of the mattress.  Only your bottom is to suffer."
         "But why, oh why?" I asked.
         "Because I want to see such young, beautiful flesh respond
totally to me," she replied.  "It is a matter of domination, of control. 
You will weep, you will cry, you will beg.  But there will be no
diminishment of your punishment.  When I am done the men will fuck you. 
One in your cunt, and one up your ass.  Then you will be dismissed from
the premises."
         "Oh, no," I sobbed.  "Please."  Even as I spoke, I was already on
my knees, that was how much persuasive power she had over me, standing
there with her crop in her hand, gazing at me with fiery eyes.  The men
got hold of my wrists and bound them into restraints at the headboard of
the bed.
         "Open the window," Elspeth ordered.  "I want the neighbors to
hear her screams.  And all my guests, they will enjoy them, as they while
the night away, playing bedroom games of their own.  Women will shiver in
the arms of their men, hearing little Barbi's shouts and pleadings.  No
one will come.  I am well-connected."  
         One of the men sauntered over to the window and thrust up the
sash.  The evening air blew in, cool and fresh.  I felt its chilliness
upon my bare tushy.
         "Are you ready?" Elspeth asked me.
         "Oh, this is so humiliating!" I cried.  My eyes were
panic-stricken.  To be heard, as it happened!  To be laughed at,
ridiculed.  Tears were already streaming down my face.
         "I will give you one more humiliation," Elspeth said to me.  "I
will not begin until you tell me to."
         "Oh, God!" I sighed.  Then I drew in my breath.  "HELP!" I cried.
 "HELP!  HELP!"  
         "Three more strokes will be added for that," she replied calmly. 
"But if you wish to yell until you're hoarse, that's your affair."
         I squeezed my eyes shut tight.  "You are a bitch," I moaned.
         "I know," she tittered.  "Girls tell me that all the time.  It
does not spare their bottoms, though."
         "Do it.  Get it over with," I gritted through my teeth.
         "You must say, 'Please mistress, spank my bottom.'" She replied
suavely.
         "No," I answered.  I gazed at her hot-faced.  It was a test of
wills.

Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.  draft 2
NOTE TO FUCKHEADS:  "True rollers, like east Africa's Lilac-breasted roller (Coracias caudata), spend much of their time airborne, guarding their territories in a spectacular rolling flight, hence the name "roller."
- WWF Calendar, April 1997.