From roller666@aol.com Sat May 03 19:39:45 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!Sprint!newsxfer3.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!audrey02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: roller666@aol.com (ROLLER 666) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: rare dreamgirls 11 Date: 3 May 1997 23:39:45 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Lines: 334 Message-ID: <19970503233900.TAA15325@ladder01.news.aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com 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.