Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
Issue No. 119    alt.sex.stories  

D R E A M G I R L S  S T O R I E S
Love Child
Part Twelve
by Andrew Roller

Chapter Three

	Earlier Arthur had asked Mandy and me to suck his dick, to get things started.  I suppose you had to start a party somehow in a room like this, and to Arthur, at least, bluntly asking two girls to suck him was just about the best way you could do it.  I'd coyly declined.  Mandy wished to also, but mistress would not let her.  She taught Mandy how to suck properly then, me watching, the two of them down on their knees taking turns with his member.  I'd stood just off to the side, watching intently, a little girl afraid to go meet Santa.
	Arthur had ignored me since then, perhaps thinking me silly and immature.  I'd watched as he'd almost come in Mandy's mouth, drooling pre-cum over her licking tongue.  Then IÕd watched as he and mistress had lovingly strapped her over the trestle.  She did not look to be so well loved now, getting her bottom stung.  She began bawling.
	"Shush, darling, you can take a few more," mistress admonished.  "You would not want me to cut short your training, would you?"  Mandy, sobbing loudly, finally shook her head no.  I was amazed.  Despite her pain, despite the awful hurting in her bottom, she had shaken her head ÔnoÕ to the prospect of being released.  Why, after such antics?  SheÕd been straining mightily at her bonds, pleading through her gag.  Yet, when finally asked, she somehow found the courage to say Ôno.Õ  I admired her bravery, even as my hands clung to my own silken asscheeks, wondering if I would be so brave.  Perhaps it was the imminent prospect of ArthurÕs dick going up her that emboldened her.  It was fully greased now, gleaming like hard steel before her.  Perhaps she feared that I would be put over the trestle and receive him instead.  The girl understood now, didnÕt she?  She was the center of attention, not me.  Were we to trade places, she would be left in a corner, sobbing, without her reward, while Arthur loved me instead.  No, she would go the full course.  She would remain over the trestle for however long mistress wished, provided she got that big cock as her prize in the end.  Ah, sex was strange, I thought.  Girls with pussies thought of nothing but cocks, boys with cocks thought of nothing but pussies.  How could God have created such a world?  I still believed in him, I did, even if I didnÕt obey him too well.  Someday IÕd become a mom and reform myself.  Then IÕd join the PTA and worry about the virtue of little girls, and demand more police to protect them.  But now, here, such matters were Ôoutside the scope,Õ as one might say.  Not irrelevant, no, just beyond where my mind was at the moment.  I was going to get mine, and Mandy hers, and she was going to make damn sure she was first.  I should not have refused to suck.  I should have knelt and laved ArthurÕs cock with my tongue, told him how big it was, how much I loved it.  And I truly loved it.  As much as my poor teddy bear, more, I guess, since IÕd left teddy at the generalÕs.  Perhaps some other girl was hugging teddy now, telling him sheÕd never give in, sheÕd remain a virgin forever.  ÔIÕll be Mother Theresa,Õ sheÕd assure her teddy, once my teddy.  ÔYes, Mother Theresa!  No Missionary Position for me!Õ  Teddy would smile his inimitable smile.  His coal black eyes would twinkle.  And then some boyfriend would knock at the door, and sheÕd toss teddy down, forgetting him instantly.  Not meaning to, you know, just doing it, unthinkingly.  HeÕd wait, and eventually another girl would find him.  Another wannabe for the nunnery, except sheÕd wind up leaving teddy behind, just as I had.  I opened my ass with my fingers.  I felt the air caress it, cool my little sphincter.  Why, oh why was I being such a bad, bad girl?  I squished my bottomcheeks shut.  Naughty!  And then I realized what a naughty girl like me needed.  Alas, Mandy was already getting it.  A good spanking.
	"Good, then, for I know you are a big girl and you have a nice big bottom which was made just for this,Ó mistress was saying to Mandy.  She patted MandyÕs bottom, a welcome relief from the stinging cane.  Mandy jerked just the same, not expecting a light pat, an admiring pat.  She shuddered in her bonds, letting her tears flow freely down her cheeks.  They blushed, her bottom blushed even more, all cut up now with pink and red stripes.  ÒWait until Arthur gets himself into you, which I hope he isn't too enormous to do,Ó mistress teased Mandy.  ÒFor you will truly bloom from the warmth of the cane and his hot seed.Ó  She laughed, a pretty laugh, not one youÕd expect to find in a horrid dungeon like this.  She was strange, mistress, haughty one minute, kind the next.  Yet she was always firm.  There was no escaping her wishes.  She would make you want what she wanted.  She would make you nod the way she wished for you to nod.  Mistress stroked along the sides of MandyÕs belly, pressed as it was to the leather pad, as if to prevent pregnancy.  ÒYou would bless us with quintuplets nine months from now were it not for the pill,Ó mistress concluded, with a glance at ArthurÕs tool.  He was such a Man, cock-ready, his ass flexing with each strike of the cane, as if he himself knew its bite.  Perhaps he did.  We all would, I feared, before the night was through.  Mistress seemed to be enjoying herself most excellently with it.
	Swoosh! and Swish! came the cane again, making Mandy's beleaguered bottom lurch uncontrollably.  Only her bonds kept her from flying off the trestle.  Her cheeks clenched, squeezed tight, like living things hunched against some acid rain, then bounded out, as if to throw off the burning pain.  Of course it was at this opportune moment that mistress laid in her next stroke, claiming that the bottom was offering itself up for more.  Sometimes she waited though, to be unpredictable.  There was no need to hurry.  Only the bottom and the cane were important, the cane and the bottom, their interaction, nothing else.  Each stroke could be savored, its effects left to linger for minutes afterward.  The pain, so biting and severe (though it could have been worse, mistress wished to go relatively easy on a newcomer like Mandy); the tensing of sexual desire within us all at the sight of so helpless a figure, naked and quivering, her breasts drooping in their fullness, jaggling about at every bite, stiff nippled, the legs so long, sleek, wide-spread, her fig displayed neatly, tightly beneath her wobbly bottom. 
	Mistress stopped, relishing her handiwork on Mandy's backside.  She traced several freshly sewn weals with her fingertip, making Mandy shudder uncontrollably.  The girl's face, so pretty, was a mask of agony now, eyes clouded with tears, lips pouting and sad.  Yet despite her newly damaged bottom and grief stricken face, Mandy seemed more beautiful than ever, some erotic girl-goddess laid out for inspection before Zeus.  Arthur indeed strode forward at this moment, his cock ready, his face openly admiring the girl's sleek form.  Only the immodest cheeks of her bottom were defiled, all else was as sleek and smooth and flawless as ever.  At the beach no one would have noticed her hurt in ordinary panties.  
	Arthur grasped her thighs; holding them manfully he pulled her even higher, her bonds straining, stretching, he spread her yet wider.  For a moment his cock shimmered on the air, then he thrust his hips forward and lodged himself in her ass.
	"Aaaack!" Mandy cried at the sudden invasion.  She was so tight he could barely get the plum of his cockhead inside.  He gave another thrust, another, finally lodging just the head fully within.  The rest stuck startlingly out of her.  It was like some fleshy post connected them, one end in her ass and the other connected, ingrown, just above his balls.  Mistress squeezed his pouch, putting yet more pressure on his already constricted balls.  
	"Sperm her, darling," mistress cooed.  Perhaps she wished to protect Mandy from being utterly impaled upon him.  Indeed it looked as if he would split her ass right apart if he tried to get himself up her more.  
	Arthur was an old hand at fucking, though, born to the sport and not easily induced to cum.  He seemed almost bored as he wriggled his hips to gain a better purchase in little Mandy's hole.  I'd thought of how he'd looked when she'd sucked him off.  He'd been casual, impressed with her beauty (which was extraordinary), but nonplussed all the same.  It was almost, in a sense, as if he'd been going to the bathroom in her mouth.  He made sperm in his testicles and girls drew it out from him, just like that, a sort of regular thing, like milking a cow.  Now poor Mandy was enduring the most extreme and intense moment of her entire young life, yet to him she was just another girl, another beautiful female upon which he performed his daily chores.
	Mandy, popeyed and snorting, seemed to beg through her gag for him not to go any deeper.  But her head was far from her bottom and mistress ignored her, preferring instead to helpfully pry her bottom cheeks wider.  I gulped, realizing she had given up sperming him, would let him stick that awful living tree of a cock right up MandyÕs butt!
	ÒNoooo!Ó I cried, softly.  Surprised at myself, I blushed.  Mistress glanced up at me.  She said nothing, but I could see it all in her eyes.  ÔYouÕre next, darling.  YouÕre next.  ThatÕs why youÕre here.  And IÕm going to enjoy every minute of it.Õ  There was a smile posted on her lips.  She was my chaperone.  My chaperone into the world of love.  Oh sure, I might have met a boy on my own, let him get my panties down in the backseat of a car.  But would I ever have wound up in such a place as this, without her?  No, I would not have.  Even at my school there were not stallions like Arthur.  I loved every rippling movement of his body, and yet I so desperately feared him.  Especially now, watching Mandy.
	Arthur thrust his hips in quick jerks.  Mistress used her hands to helpfully spread MandyÕs asscheeks.  They must be as far apart as possible, mustnÕt they?  Hands still on my own butt, I watched, mouth agape, horrified yet fascinated at how animalistic it all seemed.  A stallion rutting in a stable, an unwilling filly, a helpful midwife assisting not at the birth but at the insemination. 
	"In, in!"  I found myself urging, silently at first, then audibly.  The pressure must have been too much for me.  I cracked.  I wanted Mandy to have it now.  It must be done.  It must be finished.  The tension must be relieved.  Mistress, eyes on MandyÕs butt, biting her lip, prying, heard me.  She smiled, glanced up at me, then back at Mandy's bottom.  I moved my hips back and forth even as I watched Arthur do so to get himself up her.  I wanted to bring my hands round to my front, touch myself, but knew it was forbidden.  My loins, my nipples were for them to touch, and theirs for me.  A party where one gets naked is a party for the mutual stimulation of each other.  Only by stimulating others are you permitted to enjoy stimulation yourself.  
	Arthur drove himself in, almost ruthlessly, as MandyÕs head flew up, aghast at this new violation.  She squawked in horror.  Her lips compressed themselves over her gag, opened, mewling a furious dissent.  She was shaking her head vigorously "no" now, but everyone, including myself, ignored her.  We were mesmerized by the sight of her bottom being pillaged.  How deep would Arthur go?  How much of him could she take?  Outside the snow I knew must still be falling, but in here we were raw and steaming.  I was naked, yet almost on the brink of sweating profusely, though I knew the room's thermometer was set at a cool 72 degrees.
	"A little more, perhaps," mistress advised Arthur, and he gave another shove.  That seemed about as far as he could go, though a quarter at least of his cock still remained without.  He held himself then, and mistress released Mandy's cheeks so that she might squeeze him.  She did just that, hoping to expel him.  Any ordinary male would have lost himself within such sweet clenchings.  Arthur held fast though, began stroking her thighs, letting them close as much as her bonds would allow (which was very little).  When he had savored his predicament to the full he looked over at mistress.
	"In and out now," she said.  "But gently.  She is very new and tender."  In gentlemanly fashion he withdrew himself partway, then ploughed up her again, Mandy bleating anew at the new invasion.  Back again he went, then up her, each stroke sending me shivering into a near dreamworld of desperate bliss as I watched.  I moved my hips in time with his.  We fucked Mandy together, he and I, him with his big penis and me with my little clitoris, his comfortably embedded in her rear, mine woefully buzzing unattended.
	Mistress walked over to me, knelt down beside me, put a hand on my shoulder and stroked my inner thighs.  Yet she did not touch me where I wanted her to.  She had bigger plans.
	"You will be next," she smiled at me.  I sensed her heat, her own growing need.  I gazed at her with pale eyes and suddenly pressed my mouth to hers.  We kissed wildly then, swooning, our hands feverishly rubbing each other everywhere but where we needed it most.  Arthur saw us, grunted his approval, then turned his eyes back to Mandy's butt and gave her twelve of his finest strokes with his cock.  At last he spurted anew, up her ass this time instead of in her mouth, one selfish little girl getting all of his sperm.
	When he was spent, Arthur walked away.  It was just like a male for him to do that, I thought, watching, with mistress by my side.  There was no parting kiss for Mandy, no thank you for accepting his seed.  Indeed he probably thought she owed him thanks.  So he just walked away, his erection dissipating, as casual now as heÕd been before, nonchalant, uncaring.  He looked like a football hero walking away from the tackle, leaving the injured behind, lying in a heap.
	ÒCome,Ó mistress said.  She lifted me to my feet.  Elegant, naked, we walked over to our little rape victim, our sister in love.  Mistress wore her jeans still, but I guessed they would soon be shed.  There was a wiggle in her walk IÕd never seen before.  It spoke of need, unfulfilled desires.  I know I myself could barely keep from waggling my butt all over the place as I stepped along.  Not just wiggling it, mind you, not just swinging my hips, but walking like some cheap whore who needed it bad and might not even charge admission.
	I brushed my locks from my eyes.  I mouthed a silent testimony as I gazed at MandyÕs fanny up close, saw all the marks the cane left.  And, right in between those darling wounded cheeks, her little asshole.  Sperm oozed out of it.  I guessed it might not ever close quite so tightly ever again, though indeed it looked quite tiny and inaccessible even now.  How had Arthur gotten himself within that little hole?  I touched it.  I could not resist.  Mandy flinched, but her spirit seemed gone.  
	ÒDonÕt worry, I wonÕt fuck you with my finger,Ó I whispered.  Mistress laughed.
	ÒWe must get her undone,Ó she said.  She knelt to untie the wristlets, the anklets.
	ÒShe is undone already,Ó I replied.
	ÒNonsense.  She has had what she needed, thatÕs all.  It was high time a girl like her got it, too.  When the breasts are plump, the bottom sweetly widened, no longer narrow as her waist, then she must be introduced to these things.  Waiting will only screw her up, make her crazy.  She might try to kill herself, or tattoo herself, or pierce herself.  This is the only piercing she needs.  The organ of the male up her butt, and a little tattooing of the cane across her bottom.  How silly you Americans are, screwing up your girls, when all they need is screwing?!Ó mistress scolded me.  She gazed up at me as her slender fingers undid MandyÕs legs and arms.
	ÒWell, I donÕt live there,Ó I replied.
	ÒNo, but your people dominate our entire planet with their perverted beliefs!Ó mistress answered.  Imagine!  Her scolding me, after what sheÕd gotten poor Mandy into.  ÒGet down and undo her with me, these knots are tighter than I thought,Ó mistress ordered me.  I obeyed, kneeling.  My breasts jiggled as I knelt.  I was conscious of them, too conscious.  
	ÒYou tie tight knots,Ó I said.
	ÒDonÕt break your nails,Ó mistress warned me.  ÒWork slowly.  The knots will come eventually, sooner than you think if you donÕt try to rush it.Ó
	ÒI wonÕt,Ó I replied.  I shot her a glance, as if to say, Ôbecause I know whatÕs coming next.Õ  She shook her head, like some preacher marvelling at the inability of one to be saved.  But she would give me my salvation, I knew, whether I wanted it or not.  I worked on the knots as slowly as I could.  
	When mistress and I had untied Mandy she just lay there, bent over the trestle, trembling.
	"Oh, do you want more?" mistress laughed.
	"Nooo," came from Mandy's still-gagged mouth.  It sounded as if she were mooing.  A cow at the milking station.  
	"Get up, darling," mistress said, lifting the girl by her arm.  Bodily we hefted her up and helped her over to Arthur, who had retreated to a pile of cushions on the floor.  Mandy gaped at him as a cat does at water.  Yet we put her down upon him, and she resisted not.  He enfolded her in his arms.  His hand brushed her bottom.  
	"Yeek!" she squeaked, for her hiney was most tender now, wealed everywhere (though lightly) from the cane.  
	"Get some cream for her bottom," mistress ordered me, indicating a nearby dresser.  It had proven already to hold pills and such.  I went and found some balm, returned, knelt down and began gently applying it to Mandy's seat.  The girl squirmed under my touch, not sure if I was helping.  But Arthur held her fast and soon my hands did not feel so harsh upon her.  Her skin felt hot.  I rubbed, massaged, felt her bottom respond with quiverings and clenchings.  My breasts shook freely as I worked.  I was a shopgirl, kneeling in a shop in London, doing my duties.  I knew my own seat spread out adorably behind me.  Mistress watched, seemed to be sizing up my bottom.  I glanced over my shoulder once, to check if sheÕd armed herself with anything.  No, it was just her, without any cane or whip.  I gulped, turned my head back to Mandy.  I heard mistress laugh behind me.  Her chuckle was menacing.  It made me shiver and I know she enjoyed seeing me shivering.  I willed myself to concentrate on my work.  I must not think of myself, only of Mandy.  She needed my wholehearted attention, and I intended to give it to her, if only to forget.

D R E A M G I R L S  L E T T E R S

HELP!  
(IÕm a writer in search of a publisher!)
      
M94_LUN@m.kth.se writes:  ÒI have written some stories but they are in Swedish.  So I wonder, if I translated my stories into English, would somebody please post them for me on the Internet?  These stories are quite short.  Please e-mail me at M94_LUN@m.kth.se.  (My university has barred access to the alt.sex newsgroups.)Ó  

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