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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Pussy Playland part 3 of 4 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PUSSY PLAYLAND
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Three
It’s amazing what happens when you follow the bouncing ball. I
was playing on the beach by myself, batting my beach ball around. I was
treating the boys like absolute shit. No matter which of them came up
to me, no matter how handsome, I’d ask for my ball back and refuse to
play with him. I would tell him I was practising for my girl’s
volleyball team and we weren’t allowed to practise with boys. Then I’d
loft my ball up again, and try to keep it up by tapping underneath it
with my fingers. I was getting quite good at it when a big gust of wind
blew my ball down the beach. I went running after it. Two boys tried
to run with me, to catch it, but I speeded up and they settled for a
view of my ass instead as my ball bounced its way under someone’s
umbrella.
I dashed up and dropped to my knees on someone’s beach towel.
I was feeling frisky, and I’d seen a big man sitting under the umbrella,
just him in shadow, with a girl beside him. She looked very beautiful,
a young woman. Wickedly, I wanted to see if I could give her some
competition. After all, I was just 14. Would her hunky boyfriend turn
out to be a pervert?
Collapsing under their umbrella onto my knees, I knelt with my
breasts heaving and my mouth wide and panting. I was wearing my tiniest
bikini. Each rise of my breasts with my breath threatened to loft my
bosoms right out of my top. Awkwardly I reached back behind myself and
pulled my panties out of my ass crack. I didn’t want to give the boys
who’d been chasing me any more of a mooning than I had to!
“Hi!” the young woman with the man said to me. She spoke as if
to put me at ease. Rats. She was too nice. I glanced at her, saw she
was a brunette with wide eyes and soft lips and a body as curvaceous as
mine. She appeared to be 19, no more. She had on a bikini top whose
cups were so narrow that they left most of her bosom exposed. Her
panties lay over her pussy but the string bows were completely untied.
I realized they must have been playing when my ball blew in. My eyes
turned to her boyfriend. My God! His swimsuit, despite being the
fashionable baggy-trunks kind, looked like its crotch was about to
burst. His thing stood up within it, quite frankly, unable to go down
and, with me now heaving before him, appearing to rise even more. He
was brown-haired and muscled and hairy. Casually, or as casually as he
could muster, he picked up a women’s magazine and opened it and dropped
it over his crotch. “Women’s Day,” the cover said, but the magazine was
pitched at such a steep angle it was obviously laid over a man. His
girlfriend looked at him and laughed.
“Sorry about my ball,” I gasped, still feeling the effects of
my run.
“Sorry about my dick,” the man replied. I broke into giggles.
Our eyes met and lingered and when next I became aware of myself a
female hand was extending itself to me in greeting.
“Come and sit with us,” the man’s girlfriend told me. “We’re
having a picnic but we’ve brought too much food. Would you like some
lunch?”
“Okay,” I breathed. I let my hand slip into hers. She drew me
between herself and her boyfriend. I admired her generosity. Happily I
settled next to her big beefcake and, after a moment’s hesitation, I
lifted up the copy of Women’s Day. “I like reading,” I said as
innocently as I could. He let me lift up the magazine and I gasped
again as I was confronted by his big crotch.
“In order to picnic with us you have to be bold enough to let
me undo your undies,” the man’s girlfriend said. I knew she didn’t want
to be the only one with untied panties.
“Alright,” I gulped. Nothing would tear me away from the sight
of that big man’s crotch, even if it meant losing my panties.
Skillfully the woman untied me. She left my panties lying over me, just
like hers were.
“Now let’s do lunch,” she said. “I’m Sherry, by the way. And
this is Jeff.”
“Pleased to meet you, Jeff,” I said. I didn’t even look at
Sherry.
“Me, or just the rest of me?” Jeff asked me frankly. I felt
butterflies in my tummy. This was all happening so fast! “Well, you
are kinda hairy,” I said in a meek voice. I didn’t want to offend him.
“But I don’t...” Could I dare say it? “I don’t mind meeting your
swimtrunks!” I said bravely.
“You’re either the world’s youngest tart or the sassiest virgin
on the beach,” Sherry said to me. She passed a plate of shrimp salad to
me and I found it laid down on my lap so that we all could share it.
“Neither,” I protested, and then instantly realized I’d just
confessed I wasn’t a virgin.
“Good,” Jeff replied. Together we consented to a silence then,
a kind of truce, as we all began dipping shrimp into the bowl of sauce
in the middle of the plate of salad. It was weird to have my lap be the
serving tray. Sherry offered me a shrimp from her fingers and I
accpeted it in my mouth. I knew it gave me permission to feed her
beautiful boyfriend. Soon all three of us were dipping shrimp, but
feeding any mouth but our own.
From all our giggling I know the other people on the beach
wondered what was up. But, glancing inside, all they saw was three
people having lunch, albeit a little playfully. Under the shade of our
big umbrella it was impossible for them to see that our bottoms were
undone. We passed the time leisurely, enjoying our lunch, me with my
tummy a little tight at what it all might portend. Sherry and Jeff
seemed very relaxed. We chatted amiably. They asked me about school,
and when I told them my grade they seemed taken aback a moment. But
they didn’t hold it against me. I guess Sherry herself hadn’t been in
8th grade that long ago. Sam, who was no more than 25, probably
remembered with lust balling his first girls in that grade. When we
finished lunch Sherry and I retied our swimsuits and then we all went
and played with my ball in the ocean. It was fun. Sam proved himself
better than me at volleyball.
Resting again under their umbrella, dripping from the sea, our
bodies cooled, Sherry grew serious.
“Sam and I are looking for something new,” she told me. “We
want to add a third person to our sex life. Just one, and just once.
She must be a stranger like you. That’s my rule, and Sam’s agreed.
Because, this musn’t interfere with our marriage. But if you’d like to
play with us tonight we’d love to have you. Sam hasn’t done it in a
week and he’s... well, you can see the state he’s in.” I glanced over
at his crotch and nodded happily. Even after our swim he was still
uncomfortably large in the crotch. We’d had to keep him in water at
least waist deep the whole time he was in the ocean, just to minimize
the chance of his erection being seen.
“I guess I could party with you,” I said. “What will we do?”
It was Saturday. Mom was away for the weekend. I’d managed to snub all
the boys on the beach and now I was feeling a little lonely, if I
couldn’t, you know, play with Jeff.
“We do a little bondage,” Sherry confessed. She blushed a
little as she said it. She was kneeling next to me, a little earnestly,
and she reached back and ran her hands over her seat as she spoke. It
was as if she were remembering some past spanking, or anticipating
another.
“I don’t think I want to get spanked,” I told her, quite
honestly, but as I said the words I leaned forward and let my lips come
close to hers. I was on my knees and I purposely arched my bottom at
Jeff. Naughtily, as if to straighten my bikini, I reached down and
yanked up on the waist so that the back of my seat went shooting into my
ass.
Sherry cupped my breasts, very lightly, and nuzzled my lips.
It was a kind of half-kiss. We didn’t want to get caught out here on
the beach! At the same time Jeff slapped my ass playfully. I felt the
sting and knew deep down I relished it. Did I want more? God no, but I
couldn’t stop the feelings rising within me. Mixed with the sting from
Jeff’s big hand was the soft cupping of Sherry’s hands on my breasts,
and her lips kissing mine. It was so soft, so tender, yet with the
threat of our very masculine Jeff sitting behind us! I called him ‘our’
in my mind. He would be ‘ours’ tonight, anyway, if I accepted!
“Do you want to?” Sherry breathed. Her voice sounded hot,
fierce. I felt her thumbs cross over my rising nipples and she tweaked
at them through my bra.
I gulped. It was now or never. Go home alone thinking of Jeff
or let him take me with him.
“Alright,” I gasped. At once Sherry stuck her tongue into my
mouth. I shouted but my shout was muffled by her gagging tongue.
“Let’s go,” Sherry said, a few minutes later. We rose from the
blanket and she picked up the picnic basket and Jeff folded up their
umbrella. I volunteered to roll up their blanket. Then Jeff picked up
my beach ball and we walked up the beach together, to their car.
Somewhere deep within my my conscience told me to say goodbye and leave
them but I shushed it and, at last, it left me alone.
Their house proved to be a low one-story structure up in the
canyons above L.A. The traffic, for some reason, was mercifully light
on the freeway and we got there much quicker than we might have.
Perhaps God was on my side, provided I didn’t mind a spanking. We hosed
off outside. Sherry and I had fun sticking the hose in Jeff’s trunks
and filling up his already filled crotch. We had to be careful. Jeff’s
neighbors had a direct view down onto his patio. Playfully he stuck the
hose in our briefs but the water was too strong. It threatened to rip
our panties apart while simultaneously pushing them right down our
thighs. We had to console ourselves to a Puritan shower. We rinsed off
as best we could and then went inside.
They had an elegant home. The interior was wall to wall
carpets with all new furniture. Sherry said she and I would finish our
shower in the guest room. She let Jeff have their bedroom for his
shower. He wanted to switch, so he could feel gallant, but she insisted
that he was master, and must have the master’s bathroom. I wondered
what that left Sherry and I being.
In the guest room, Sherry let me go first. We were being very
modest, but I guessed she wanted it that way. We would only be together
once, according to her rules. She wanted to make the whole thing as
special as possible. I was grateful because it gave me a chance to
reconsider. But, showering alone, feeling my aching tits and my cunt
that was already too excited, I knew there was no turning back. All I
could hope for now was that I would comport myself properly. Or should
I say aquit? After all, we would do it just once, then quit. Perhaps
she meant we would party all weekend, but that would be our only time
together. Soaping myself all over as I considered all this didn’t help
lower my temperature. I tried turning the shower water to ‘cold.’ As I
shrieked under the icy spray I think Sherry knew I was still feeling
shy.
“Hurry up. I want a shower too!” Sherry scolded me, peeking
her head through the curtain. I screamed again as she saw me naked for
the first time. “Silly, we’re both girls,” she said.
“I don’t want to get spanked!” I confessed to her.
“You’ll get double whatever’s coming to you if you don’t hurry
up and get out!” Sherry replied.
I finished up with a renewed sense of expediency. When I got
out, and got a towel wrapped around myself, Sherry let herself into the
room and Jeff was with her. All my thoughts of resisting vanished as I
laid eyes on him. Who could refuse such a big man? He had on plaid
shorts and a polo shirt. Telling myself not to, I let my eyes drop to
his crotch. I swallowed hard. It was bigger than ever, fine and
upstanding and obviously not too comfortable inside his fashionable
shorts.
“You’ve got to get those shorts off you, poor man,” I said in a
whispery voice. It was a bold, ladylike thing to say, but my voice was
high as a choirgirl’s and sounded quite nervous.
“Put this on,” Jeff replied. He offered me something that
looked like nothing but string.
“For me?” I asked. I plucked at it. It was nothing but
string, except for two postage stamp bra cups and a pair of undies that
made a doily look like a throw rug. He simply nodded. I accepted his
gift. I stepped out of the steamy bathroom. I saw a riding crop lying
atop a dresser in the guest room. It hadn’t been there when I’d gone
for my shower. Jeff picked it up. He held it with a familiar grip.
“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” Jeff told me. He turned his back
on me. I heard Sherry get into the shower in the bathroom and turn on
the water. She screeched as she found I’d left it, quite by accident,
on ‘cold.’
Slowly I finished toweling myself off. There was no desire on
my part to rush for a man who was holding a crop! I combed out my
hair. I put on makeup, sitting nude in a chair, making Jeff wait for
me. All the while he obediently stood in the doorway, his arms folded,
his back turned. There was a Picasso on the wall in the hallway with
nude women so I guess he had something to look at, even if they were
nothing but sharp-angles and limbs. I thought the painting was silly,
but perhaps he liked it. Men probably like looking at any naked women
they can find.
When I was done with my hair and makeup I resolved to try on my
new gift. I had to struggle just to figure out which end tied where.
There was no elastic anyplace. Sherry took her time in the shower.
Perhaps she was a little frightened of Jeff’s crop herself. At last,
feeling queasy, I got myself all tied and fitted. I looked in the
mirror. My hard work had been for nothing. My bosoms ballooned at me
just like before, their whiteness showing, just my nipples concealed.
My pussy seemed half undressed, the pouch of my panties was so small.
And, turning around, I found there was nothing but a single thread
running down my ass crack. Oh well, I wouldn’t have to keep pulling
THESE panties out of my ass!
My only true consolation was that I saw an identical bikini (if
you could even call it that!) piled on the guestbed. I knew who that
was for. Well, if Sherry didn’t mind wearing something all stringy and
ridiculous like this, I guess I shouldn’t either. I admired her. I
hoped I could have a house and a husband this nice when I was 19. Maybe
I’d figure out some way to make Jeff a polygamist. It sure beat staying
home at mom’s and listening to her play records by the Mormon Tabernacle
Choir!
I padded silently up to Jeff. For a moment I just stood there
admiring his build and his muscles. Then, feeling very brave, I reached
up and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around.
“Oh, you’re done!” he exclaimed.
“You heard me come up behind you,” I reproached him. “You just
like staring at those naked ladies on the wall.” I smiled.
“Well, you’re a damn sight better than Modern Art!” he
complimented me.
“I like the Old Masters,” I said. I stuck out my lip and
pouted. “They’re full of guys... well, you know, Hercules and David and
stuff.” He smiled and stuck his thumbs in the strings that supposed
they made up my panties. Playfully he tugged at them, as if to pull
them down.
“Jeff! Don’t! It’s all I have!” I shouted, giggling. He
relented. “Which brings me to my next question,” I said to him, knowing
the answer, and fearing it a little. “What else do you want me to
wear?”
“Nothing at all,” he replied. “Nothing at all.” He smiled and
tweaked the cup that covered my right nipple. I thrust my tits at him.
“Sir, please don’t play with the merchandise,” I scolded.
“Even if it sticks itself in your face,” I added with a giggle. He
liked my breasts. They were young and high on my chest and tilted up
like presents stacked under a tree at Christmas. He reached up and
lifted my chin with a finger and offered my lips to himself. He bent
down and kissed me. It was light, like two new friends kissing when the
man’s wife is gone, which was in fact the case.
When he lifted his face from mine I looked down at his riding
crop. Gingerly I touched it.
“That looks awful,” I confessed.
“It feels awful,” he replied. I ran my finger along its
length. It was a hard stick of bamboo cut like a cylindar and encased
in leather. At the tip was a loop. I toyed with it. I put my finger
through it as if it were a penis and the loop was my hole.
“Why must we use it, then?” I inquired.
“I don’t know. I guess I just like seeing girls hit with it,”
he shrugged. I shivered. My spine wobbled and I felt my legs almost
drop out from under me. My ass cheeks, bare except for the single
thread running through them, waggled fearfully.
“I’m so nervous. I have to pee,” I confessed. He took me by
the wrist like a doctor might. He seemed to be checking my pulse, but
instead he frankly put his finger under my crotch and felt my cunny. He
felt it through the cloth of my panties, and I felt embarassed because
I’d already moistened the thin piece of cloth pressing against me there,
with my juices.
“You didn’t PEE in your panties, did you?” Jeff asked.
“No,” I replied. He rubbed me a little. He removed his
finger. He let go of my wrist.
“Good,” he said. “Just hold whatever you have. You’ll go with
my permission, and not before. Is that understood?” I looked up at
him. Dare I say it? I glanced again at his crop.
“Yes,” I said very quietly, with lowered eyes. His finger
darted under my chin and he lifted my eyes to meet his.
“Yes?” he asked. He was frowning.
“Yes master,” I gulped. I forced my eyes down again because I
couldn’t bear to look at him, despite his finger under my chin. But
when I lowered my eyes from his face I found myself looking instead at
his groin! I was utterly captive and knew it. I raised my eyes again.
“Yes master,” I said again.
“That’s better,” he replied gruffly. “Why do you think I gave
you panties without any seat to them?”
“So... Ohhhh, so you can see my bottom?” I half-sighed. We
were much more intimate now than we’d been even a few minutes ago.
“Turn around,” he said. I gulped and hesitated a moment.
Then, relenting, I turned around so that my uncovered ass showed itself
to him. I could feel its plump curves attracting his eyes and I
squeezed my cheeks in a vain attempt to somehow hide myself from him.
Sherry stepped out of the shower. She had a big fluffy towel
wrapped around her, as if we were all at camp. She walked calmly past
me even as her husband told me to bend over and show him more of my
bottom.
“We’ll go cut some roses out back in a minute,” Sherry told me
as she walked past. Jeff roughly told me to bend farther, to touch my
ankles and grab on to them. Confused, I obeyed. We were going outside
dressed like this? With her back to us, Sherry, on the other side of
the bedroom now, dropped her towel. Sure, why not? The thread of her
bikini’s panties would, like mine, run through her bottom’s crack and
hide nothing. Only her nipples would be covered by her bikini, and not
much of her pubic hair. The bikini for her was laid on the guest bed
and she picked it up and began trying to figure it out. I think she’d
worn one before, because it took her a lot less time than me.
Meanwhile, I was watching her with my hands on my ankles and my blood
rushing to my head. What was Jeff doing back there? Too late, I turned
to look.
WHACK! Jeff’s crop came blasting down onto my behind. My head
shot up and I grapped my hinds and rubbed them furiously. I danced on
my toes and found Jeff laughing at me, Sherry too, although she at least
had the decency to put her hand over her mouth.
“Ooooh! OOOOHH! That HURT!” I yelped. Flexing my ass cheeks
to try to relieve the pain only made it sear within me again, as if a
new stroke had been laid. I shivered and shook and felt my breasts pop
right out of my top. When I finally settled down Sherry, dressed in her
own bikini, came up to me. Carefully she tucked my bosoms bag inside
the nipple-cups that formed my bra.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “Jeff, that was very rude!” she
scolded her husband. It was all very well for her, she was standing on
the opposite side of me. But it made me nervous because I was between
her and Jeff and I still was facing him with my bare bottom! “You know
we have to go out back and cut flowers. How do you think she’ll feel
having the neighbors see her ass with a big bright red line across it?”
“I was just showing her why it’s so important to obey,” Jeff
replied. I thought I’d heard him unzip himself while I was bent over
and, looking again over my shoulder without being interrupted by the
impact of a crop on my bottom, I saw to my heartbeating surprise that he
had his cock out! It was bigger than any I’d ever imagined. It was
almost a tree trunk, and it was pulsing with a life of its own and had
a big bulbous head that twitched hungrily at me.
“Well, it’s very important to obey,” Sherry agreed, nodding.
She looked at me and finished straightening my bra. “Always do just
what Jeff says, right away. The crop will teach you that if you can’t
learn it on your own, so please do. I don’t want to see you hurt any
more than you have to be!” Sherry told me quite candidly. I felt myself
swallowing and wanted to run. But, looking back from her very serious
eyes to Jeff’s cock again, I resolved to stay. Anyway, we might be
beyond my backing out. I didn’t want to test my luck and find I had
none!
“Now we’re going to go out into the backyard and clip some
roses for our party,” Sherry told me. She seemed to want to hurry me
past any thoughts I might have of begging to leave. “Let’s go out to
the sunroom and get some gloves so you won’t cut your fingers on any of
the thorns. And boots, too. The sprinkler might have come on in the
last half-hour and I don’t want your feet to get grass stains on them.”
Sherry took my hand and I found myself pulled past Jeff into the hall.
“After all, I’m in no hurry to party with a man with a riding crop, are
you?” Sherry asked me.
“No,” I agreed. Jeff followed, but did not interfere or give
us any orders. We walked to the back of the house. There was a sunroom
there. I could see the sun setting beyond the clifftop.
“It’s very beautiful,” I said. There wasn’t much of a view but
the sky was all red and the canyon walls stood up above us, rising into
the sky, already deep in shadow.
“Thanks. It’s our first house,” Sherry said. “We want a
bigger one when we have kids. Plus, when we have kids I don’t want a
dungeon in the house.” She picked up some heavy work gloves. She
fitted them over my hands, careful not to break any of my nails.
“A dungeon? I don’t see...” I said. I looked around me.
There were just potted daisies and sunflowers in the sunroom.
“Downstairs,” Sherry said. She got work gloves for herself.
“I scream sometimes. Jeff can hit hard.” I looked back at him. He’d
somehow managed to stuff himself back into his trunks so the neighbors
wouldn’t see his manhood. I smiled, he didn’t smile back. He was
enjoying looking severe. At least, I hoped he was enjoying it. If I’d
even suspected he was serious I would have gone shooting out the door of
the sunroom and climbed (somehow) over the rock wall that separated Jeff
and Sherry’s from their neighbors. After all, I was 14. I didn’t HAVE
to do this! I didn’t have to do anything!
Sherry spread out a soft towel on a work bench. The bench
looked very clean and polished but she laid out the towel anyway, to
make my bottom more comfy. Well, I’d been struck with the crop. I’m
sure I needed all the comfort I could get! Sherry told me to sit down.
When I did she knelt in front of me. She got big rubber workboots for
my feet and put them on me, putting socks on me first so the tops of the
boots wouldn’t chafe my calves. The socks stretched up to my knees.
They were nice and soft, like the towel I was sitting on. I watched
her, feeling odd with my big boots and gloves on, but only the tiniest
of bikinis. My mom was embarassed about my breasts when I wore a
t-shirt. What would she say if she saw me in a bra the size of two
postage stamps?
When Sherry and I were both dressed in our work boots and
gloves we went out back to the garden. I sighed in appreciation as I
saw bush after bush blooming with roses. Little flowers of blue and
pink and gold ran between the bushes and the lawn, moist with the
sprinklers, was cut like a golf course green. Together Sherry and I
padded across the carpet-like lawn and began our task of cutting roses
for our party. Jeff carried a bag for us to put them in. It was clear
plastic. I looked up at their neighbors’s house. I saw a light go on
in the second floor window. Then it went off again, and I feared I knew
why.
“Keep working,” Jeff admonished me. “You’re not out here to
admire the scenery.”
“Who’s in the bedroom upstairs?” I asked.
“Just some boy who’s been saved, for the moment at least, from
going on the Internet and looking for porn,” he replied.
“Nothing beats girls in the flesh,” I gulped. But I said it so
quietly I hoped Jeff didn’t hear me. He seemed to have a thing against
backtalk. Could the boy see my bottom, where I’d already been hit? I
hoped not. Could his parents see me? I could just see the boy’s
mother, staring down at me from their second floor window, and wondering
if she should call the police. Well, I hadn’t been reported missing.
My mom was out of town. But she would know that Jeff wasn’t my dad. He
was too young. So that only left, well, a niece maybe? I don’t think
even uncles can dress their nieces in nothing bikinis and whack their
bottoms with riding crops. I glanced at Jeff but he seemed utterly
unconcerned.
“Bend over more,” Jeff told me. His voice was loud. Too
loud. “The roses along the bottom of the bush need to be trimmed,” he
said. “There’s a groundhog in the area and she’ll just come and eat
them if we don’t cut them off.”
“Jennifer! You’re supposed to be doing your homework!” I heard
a woman’s voice shout. It sounded stressed. A bedroom window next to
the first where the light had come on and gone off again came on. Then,
mysteriously, that light went out too, and did not reilluminate.
“Honey, I really do think those biknis you bought for yourself
and our niece in France are too small,” Jeff said. “I’m going to have
to insist that you send them back.”
“Alright dear,” Sherry called out to him. We picked roses from
the lowest branches on the bushes, bending way over, showing our heinies
to whomever it was that was looking.
“I swear, I thought you were that damn groundhog,” Jeff said to
me as I bent and showed off my fanny with the mark across it. “Well, if
you girls flush it out from under one of those bushes, make sure you
scream. I don’t want to kill it so I guess this crop will have to do.
Hopefully one good whack will scare it into never coming back.”
Sherry barely suppressed a giggle. I found myself amazed at
how Jeff, even holding a riding crop and dressing us in wild biknis, had
somehow managed to annouce to the neighbors that we weren’t up to
anything bad. I glanced at his crotch. Well, that was still visible.
Shouldn’t that make everyone know right off what was up?
“I sure hate having to spend every night watching tapes on the
Holy Bible,” Jeff said. He was having a very fun time, I realized. “I
mean, we’re MARRIED, honey! Really, you church girls are no fun at
all.”
Oh well, that settled that. I hoped his neighbors were just a
little gullible. Imagine, two nearly naked girls in a back yard, one
obviously not an adult, the other barely an adult, dressed in bikinis
that would make a stripper blush and superintended by a man with a
riding crop and a hard on! I almost had to stop working, it was so
funny. But laughing might blow the whole deal. I couldn’t help
myself. Suddenly I found myself bolting upright and laughing so hard my
ribs hurt. Sherry began laughing too. We were almost hysterical.
“Stop telling jokes!” Jeff said very loudly. “You’re supposed
to be working, not fooling around! We need those flowers for church
tommorrow!”
My apologies to Ralph Reed, but that really cut me and Sherry
up. We laughed and laughed and laughed and had to make sure and turn
around and face away from their neighbor’s house because our boobs
popped right out of our tops and there was no way to get them back in or
keep them there while we were laughing. Of course, turning around did
nothing for keeping our asses modest. They jiggled freely as we laughed
ourselves silly. Our bottoms were high and tight but they had a nice
fleshiness to them, Sherry’s especially, that I know must have made Jeff
impossibly hard. Already I was getting the feeling that he was an ass
man. Well, he had no regrets looking at us! I just hoped the neighbor
boy was a tit-boy, or whatever it is boys are who don’t get turned on my
girl’s asses.
When we finally had enough roses we came back inside. It was
cool inside now. The house was open and the night air had filled it.
It had been cool in the afternoon, sequestered down in the depths of the
canyon, but as night settled in the coolness took on a noticeable bite
to it. I didn’t mind. I knew my bottom would be too warm soon!
Sherry and I shed our work things in the sunroom. It was full
of dusk now. Instead of turning on a light she lit a simple candle and
we undressed by it. We kept on just our little bikinis. She had me sit
down on the bench again and she found heels for me in a closet and
strapped them on. I stood up in them. The ankle straps were very thin
and I wobbled a moment in them before I was able to gain my balance.
“Can you walk in high heels?” Sherry asked. She reached out
and took my hands to keep me from falling over.
“Yes,” I answered. As a preteen I’d practised quite a lot,
daring to dream of growing up, walking up and down the sidewalk and
swinging my bottom so all the men looked, even the fathers, when they
drove past in their cars with the little hearts on their license plates
to keep all us children safe. But I was used to wearing sneakers.
“Try walking in them. I don’t want you to break your ankle,”
Sherry said to me. I took a step, then another. My bottom rolled atop
my legs salaciously. The heels were high.
“I can do it, see?” I told her. Except for standing up I was
okay. It had just been awhile, that’s all. Playing on the beach every
day makes you forget how to be elegant.
“Alright,” Sherry answered. “Do they feel comfortable? I can
almost guarantee you they’re the one item you won’t be taking off!”
I shivered. “Yeah, as long as I can lie down most of the time
they should be okay,” I quipped.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeff said. He was having fun
watching us.
“Oh Jeff, you’re just a big rude animal,” Sherry scolded him.
“But I’ll put heels on for you sweetie, since that groundhog still
hasn’t shown up and you might decide that I’m a groundhog instead!”
“You’re looking more like one every minute,” Jeff replied
wryly.
“Thanks, honey,” Sherry said dryly. She sat down and I put on
the heels she’d chosen for herself. Hers were even more challenging
than mine. I wore four-inchers, but she was determined to party in
fives. Carefully I buckled her straps so that they would be nice and
tight and not make her trip. There were several buckles on hers and I
had to do each one. By the time I got done, I realized her feet were
practically prisoners!
Sherry stood up. “They really do lift up your bottom, don’t
they?” she asked me. To tease Jeff she turned her fanny toward him.
Hers was nice and high but, mounted on her legs with her feet strapped
into those heels, she looked absolutely heavenly! Jeff was forced to
clear his throat, looking at her. We both showed him our asses then,
and waggled them at him like whores just to tease him. He was forced to
clear his throat again and, when he had, he said in almost a pleading
voice,
“Can we please party now?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I have to go pee but Jeff won’t let me.”
“Well then we must certainly start the party,” Sherry said.
She took my hand and led me up the hall to small study. Within were all
sorts of law books, even code books describing all the penal codes and
all the penalties.
“Jeff was studying to be a lawyer, but now he’s decided to be a
doctor instead,” Sherry told me confidentially. He strode in behind us
and Sherry bent down and lifted back the end of a throw rug, exposing a
trap door. Here, in the study, the floor was made of long planks of
wood. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the trap door in the
floor. This was going to be a real dungeon! Totally private,
sound-proofed. Did I really want to go down there? Jeff bent down and
pulled up the trap door. It swung open on hinges. It looked too heavy
for either of us girls.
“Ladies first,” Jeff said generously. He pointed at the dark
hole in the floor. Sherry lit a candle. It was stuck in a silver
boat-shaped holder designed to keep her fingers from getting burned.
Carefully she walked with it over to the hole in the floor. She put a
hand on Jeff’s big shoulders and he held her gently as she found her
footing on the ladder in the hole and began her descent.
I watched Sherry go down in the hole. She seemed to shiver a
little. A cold wafting of air came up from the hole, even chillier than
the air upstairs. When her head had disappered within the hole I looked
at Jeff.
“I don’t want to go,” I said to him. His answer was to unzip
himself. Fearfully I watched as he performed a silent strip show for
me, presenting his cock to me first and then shucking his shorts off,
lifting off his shirt to show me his bare chest, leaving only his
sneakers. “You can’t wear sneakers in bed,” I said. He was blocking
the door. What else could I say?
“There’s no bed down there,” he answered. I gulped hard and
took one last look at his riding crop, then his dick. He pointed at the
hole in the floor and I knew there was no way I could get past him to
escape from this room and this house.
“Alright,” I said. Shakily I put myself against him and I
began down the ladder. Sherry’s light could be seen down below,
lighting the way for me. Slowly I descended. His cock was in my way
and I kept bumping it as I tried to lower myself into the hole. For
once it wasn’t turning me on. I was too scared of what was going to
happen to me. But I somehow managed to get down inside the hole and
find my way down the ladder. As I alighted upon the stone floor of the
dungeon Jeff leapt down the ladder after me and closed the trap door
over his head so no one would know we were here.
Sherry lit candles for us. They were set in the wall. When
she was done she blew her candle in the boat holder out. I gazed about
me. I pressed my arms together in front of me, nervously, and regarded
my strange surroundings. It looked like some perverted room Bilbo
Baggins might retreat to when he had ladyfriends over. It was a stone
chamber, filled with equipment. Jeff and Sherry had anything and
everything a girl’s mother always warned her to never encounter. The
kinds of things I imagined strangers owned, when I was a little girl.
Big paddles, with holes cut through them. Masks and hoods and
blindfolds. A whipping post, and beside it a cage, so small a girl
could only crouch inside. A rape rack was built into one wall where a
girl could be tied and fucked standing up. Next to it a trestle stood
where a girl could be bent over and fucked. Like Jeff had warned me,
there was no bed anyplace. Just a stone floor and endless variations on
torture equipment.
“Welcome to our dungeon,” Sherry said to me. “You’re a little
overdressed for it at the moment but we’ll take care of that.” I turned
from my fearful appraisal of the room to see her bringing a big
double-decker cake out from what looked to be a kitchenette. She laid
it down on a table with cuffs on it. The table was obviously designed
to be something a girl could be punished on, but for the moment it would
just be an ordinary table, with our cake on top of it. Next she went
back to the kitchen and returned with a chilled bottle of liquor. She
set it down next to the cake. She went back to the kitchen and brought
out two wine glasses.
“Is there a bathroom down here?” I asked. I remembered I had
to pee. My need was quite pronounced now. I put a hand to my pussy to
still my desire to pee right then and there, on their floor.
Sherry laughed. “Down here? No, darling. Jeff will have you
pee when it suits him. If you can’t hold it, of course, you’ll get
extra punishment. It’s your choice.” Pleadingly I turned and looked at
Jeff. He was expressionless. And quite naked. His big cock stood up
stiff and demanding. Didn’t he have to pee?
I turned back to Sherry to see her coming at me with a knife.
“Sherry! I’m sorry--I don’t have to pee!” I cried. (Even though I
did.)
“Silly, I’m just going to cut off all these clothes you’re
wearing,” she said.
“All these--?” I began. But she resolutely put her knife to my
bra. With the sharp end of her knife pointing outward she cut the slim
string that held my cups on and they both popped off. There was nothing
left of my bra except the neck tie, with the center string right between
my bosoms cut away. But she insisted on cutting the neck tie too. The
remains of my bra, severed and useless, fell to the floor.
“Now for your panties,” Sherry said.
“Sherry, its cold down here and--” I began, but my plea went
unanswered. She put her knife along my hip, slipping it under my
drawstring, and slashed away my panties. They quickly skittered down my
legs. They did not wait to be cut again, like my bra.
“There, that’s better,” Sherry smiled. She handed me the
knife. “Now do me. We mustn’t have anything left to wear.”
“Well, I can’t wear my bikini again, there’s no question about
that,” I said ruefully. It lay in pieces on the floor and I doubted any
seamstress could reattach those little strings.
Reluctantly I lifted the knife and put it between her breasts.
“Well, they were kind of uncomfortable bikinis,” I mused.
“Yes,” Sherry agreed. I cut her bra open. She gave a little
yelp as her nipples sprang out. “Sorry, I just-- careful with that
knife!” Sherry said.
I looked at her nipples. They were long and delicate and my
knife was big and sharp. Did I hate her for bringing me down here? No,
I didn’t. I’d asked to come. At least I think I had. I put my knife
down to her panties. “In Africa they cut off a girl’s clit,” I said
aloud.
“I know,” Sherry answered. Her voice had a little tremble in
it. I cut her panties away. They fell down her legs.
“Now let’s cut the cake,” Sherry said. She took the knife back
from me. We left our ruined biknis lying in the floor. We walked over
to the table and Jeff followed us. Sherry took a match and lit the
candles on top of the cake. There were a lot of them. She said each
one was for a time her husband had fucked her. They were more newly
married than I’d thought.
When all the candles were lit Sherry took me by the hand.
“We’ve got to blow them out together, and promise to serve Jeff to the
best of our ability,” she told me.
“Alright,” I answered. “Do I get to pee then?”
“You may pee whenever you wish. Just be prepared to be
punished for it,” Sherry said. “Don’t you think I have to pee too?”
She squeezed my hand. “Do your best, or we’re both in for a royal
spanking.” With that, she drew in her breath. I followed her example.
I didn’t know what else to do. I still didn’t want a spanking, even one
made for royalty! Our bosoms rose high on our chests. We blew. Our
bosoms shook as we exhaled over the scented candles.
“You missed one,” Jeff said when we’d blown all our air out.
“Oh, no!” Sherry cried. She bent and blew quickly again, her
bare breasts swaying sweetly beneath her. The candle went out, but it
was too late. It counted against us. “I knew I shouldn’t have smoked
in high school,” Sherry said regretfully.
“Let’s eat first. I’m hungry,” Jeff said. “Cut the cake.”
“Thank God for your stomach,” Sherry said. She turned and
regarded him. His tummy was flat and hard but he loved cake, and we
couldn’t help but love him for that! “Don’t you have to pee, dear?”
Sherry asked her husband as she sliced into our cake. He said nothing.
All men have big bladders. At least all the ones with big cocks do. I
guess that’s why us girls have to go so often. We have nothing but
pussies!
Sherry gave me a slice of cake first. She lifted it with her
hands. “Don’t you have plates?” I asked.
“Of course not, dear,” Sherry smiled. “We go primitive down
here. Take this piece. It has a flower on it and Jeff doesn’t like the
flowers.” I accepted the cake.
“Um, how do I eat it?” I asked.
“Just break off pieces and put them in your mouth,” Sherry
smiled. “It’s finger food!”
We stood around eating our cake. I tried to eat as daintily as
I could, and Sherry did too. I didn’t really want cake all over me.
Jeff ate casually, like a man does, not really caring whether he makes a
mess or not. I guess it was he who’d insisted on no plates or forks,
just a big knife. This dungeon seemed to be perfect for men and their
fantasies. Jeff’s crop waited on the table for him while he munched on
his cake.
“I wanted chocolate. This is vanilla,” he told Sherry.
“It’s Angel’s Food cake, dear,” Sherry corrected him.
“Well, no matter, you’re getting spanked already for not
blowing out all the candles, plus embarassing me by laughing outside.”
“For laughing?” Sherry asked. “We were allowed to laugh if we
wanted.”
“Says who?” Jeff asked.
“Um, yes master,” Sherry replied. She looked at me and rolled
her eyes. I hoped Jeff wasn’t really serious. It sounded like we were
both in for a serious tanning, and I still had to go to the bathroom!
When we were done eating our pieces of cake we licked each
other’s fingers clean. It was very sensuous. I’d never done something
like this before and I found sucking on each of Sherry’s digits
fascinated me. I wondered what it would be like to suck on her toes, or
have her suck mine, or have all three of us sucking each other. I felt
wetter than ever between my legs, and I still hadn’t gotten permssion to
pee.
Sherry picked up the bottle of champagne. I feared she would
aim it at me. Instead, as I backed away, she popped the cork and shot
the spurting contents all over Jeff’s dick. He howled with surprise.
She hosed him real good, getting his big thing all wet and directing the
spray down under his legs to shoot it all over his balls. He did not
insist on retaliating.
“Well, I’m glad you took that like a man,” Sherry smiled at
him.
“Just pour me a drink,” he answered. “And then you two finish
the bottle.”
Sherry and I stared at each other. We already had to go to the
bathroom quite badly. Jeff passed up a chance at one of the two glasses
on the table and drank from the bottle directly. Then he handed it back
to Sherry and told her to fill our glasses with whatever was left. We
each had to drink two whole glassfulls and I found myself a little tipsy
when it was over.
“Don’t be worried about getting a little drunk. You’ll be glad
for it when we pay for all our crimes and misdemeanors,” Sherry assured
me. She took my glass from me and put it back on the table. It was
quite empty, and my tummy was quite full and sparkly.
Sherry turned to Jeff. She was wriggling and I was too.
“Jeff, I mean, Master, may we please have permission to pee?!” Sherry
asked him. Her face took on an anguished look and I saw she was
standing with her thighs pressed tightly together. I put my hand down
to my pussy and held it. I did really have to go, just like I used to
when I was in kindergarten!
“You don’t have my permission, but if you want to get less
punishment for it you’ll use your champagne glasses and at least do it
like proper young ladies,” Jeff said. He slapped his thigh with his
riding crop.
“Oh, thank you, master!” Sherry said, half campily, but to my
great relief, at least! She gave me my glass back and led me over to a
little drain set in the middle of the stone floor. “Crouch down. We’ll
pee and then empty our glasses into the drain.”
“Sherry, I have to go more than one glassfull!” I told her.
“Well, you’ll have to stop your flow, then,” she answered. She
crouched down, eager to go. “Don’t pee on the floor or your hand,
whatever you do. You’ll get extra strokes for missing the glass or
overfilling it.”
She began peeing. She’d played this game with her husband
before, I guessed, for when her glass was full she very neatly stopped
her flow with her abdominal muscles and held herself in while she
emptied her glass into the drain. I got down, crouching like a mare in
the barn. How could I possibly pee this way? It was so obscene! But
one look at Jeff with his crop assured me that I’d better find a way.
I peed into my glass. I coudn’t stop myself. It wasn’t my
fault, I todl myself, I’d had to go longer than Sherry. But she scolded
me, still crouching and peeing herself, as she saw me overfill my
glass.
“I’m sorry master,” I said with utter sincerity, looking up at
Jeff.
“Extra strokes,” he replied. “You remember that one I have you
in the bedroom upstairs?” I reached back and touched my heinie and
suddenly found I was able to stop my flow.
“Yes,” I breathed. It still hurt. Fortunately it hadn’t
formed a welt. But I had no doubt if I stayed the night I woulnd’t be
so lucky by morning.
Sherry and I finished our peeing. I was less than expert at
it. Tutting her disapproval, Sherry went to the kitchenette. She
returned with a soft wet towel and wiped me between my legs. “I daresay
I got a bit more than pee down there,” she scolded me.
“Well, I am a little excited,” I replied. She wiped herself
too, and I knew she was as liquidy between her legs as I was. Even Jeff
was dripping pre-cum. We were all quite enamored of each other’s
bodies. We had absolutely nothing on, and our surroundings were lewd,
to put it mildly. Everything down here seemed designed to inflict
pain. I glanced again at all the awful things that surrounded me.
Whips, hanging on a wall, dreaming of days past and hoping to be chosen
again. A chair with a seat I just knew, from the hinges at the back of
it, that was designed to fall away. There was a chafing dish down in
the center of the chair’s interconnected legs. It had coals in it,
waiting to be lit. Talk about getting a hot seat! A girl would find
herself sitting on just a small ledge, the rest of the chair’s seat
gone, dropped away, and the chafing dish, intended to cook food, would
instead be used to cook her bottom!
“Come honey,” Sherry said to me. She took my wrist. “It’s
time we see which one of us gets whipped first.” She drew me in amongst
the equipment. I saw a long rubber mat laid down in amonst the
implements of torture. It was back behind the chair. It ran on and on,
like a runway, back through the machines. They’d been moved aside to
accomodate it. I saw that someone had covered it entirely with whipped
cream.
“We have our cleaning lady set up the room for us when we want
to play,” Sherry said. “She came in while we were at the beach. She’s
quite old, and speaks only Spanish. She’s homeless, but she lives in a
shanty down the road.” I remembered passing a homeless settlement of
illegal aliens as we drove into the canyon. “She’s never told anyone,
and I expect her not to, either, or I’ll report her to INS. She’s
cleans up the dungeon afterward too, of course.” Sherry tossed her
head. Her hair was luxurious and brown, like the hills that enclosed
us. I wondered if we’d ever be old someday. “Anyway, this is our
little competition. Jeff’s always made me do it alone before. It’ll be
fun to have someone to beat,” Sherry explained. “Those two bolsters
behind the chair are what you and I will get down on. You have to ride
it with your pussy against it, dragging it down to the other end of the
mat with you. You can lift your head and bosoms but you have to keep
your pussy against the bolster as much as possible. Jeff will watch for
infractions.”
“What happens when we get to the far end of the mat?” I asked,
staring into the gloom. It ended somewhere down there. Jeff flicked a
lightswitch and the shadows drew back. I saw more awful equipment, and,
running through them, the runway like mat layered with cream.
“At the end of the mat, you have to put your hands back behind
you and open yourself. This is to show Jeff you’re not using your hands
for this part of the contest. There’s a big soft pillow at the end of
the mat, one for each of us. Rest your chin on it. Above your pillow
you’ll see a hot dog. It’s cold and raw, but you have to eat it as fast
as you can. It’s held by a cock ring fitted near the base of the wall.
I don’t know what the people who built this dungeon used those
screw-down rings in the wall for but we just stick hotdogs in them.
Each your hot dog right down to the cock ring and lick and bite out
whatever is left stuck inside the ring. The wall is recessed to let you
get at the ring, so don’t hesitate. And don’t gag, either. Jeff knows
CPR but he’s liable to pound you to smithereens trying to do it. I
don’t even let him practise it on me, he’s so rough. When you’re all
finished look for the whistle lying between our pillows. There’s only
one, and the winner gets it. Grab it using just your tongue and teeth
and blow hard. Then you’ll be the winner.”
“What do I get for winning?” I asked.
“It’s more like what you don’t get,” Sherry replied, and said
no more.
Jeff made me sit down on the hot seat. I was deathly afriad he
intended to burn my bottom, but Sherry told me not to worry. He fitted
big iron rings to my ankles, right over the ankle straps for my shoes.
He locked them in place. They were connected by a heavy chain. When I
stood up I found the chain dragged along the floor when I walked.
Fortunately, the floor was smooth. Some workman must have labored down
here for months making the floor just right. Sherry assured me it
wasn’t she or Jeff. They’d bought the house this way, and simply added
themselves to it.
“It was dusty down here when we first bought it, but that’s
it,” Sherry said. “Our cleaning lady cleaned it up for us, of course.
It’s nice to have a cleaning lady. I think maybe a child molester or
drug dealer or somebody owned this house before us. We found the
dungeon on our own. The realtor never mentioned it. And,” she looked
at Jeff. “It definitely wasn’t included in the price.”
Jeff put heavy iron manacles on my wrists. These he left
unchained so I could move my arms in front of myself or behind myself.
I was grateful for that. I felt more excited than ever as I watched
Sherry put into the same kind of manacles I wore. We were both so
beautiful, could we really be letting a man fit us out with irons? We
had absolutely nothing on but our chains. I looked at Jeff and saw he
was inexplicably hard, bigger even than he’d been earlier. The
champagne had dried from his cock but it shone with a kind of glow of
its own. I longed to just skip the competition and pledge and enslave
myself to his penis forever. ‘His Royal Penis,’ I’d call him. Skip the
royal punishment he’d promised us. His penis was so huge it promised to
be punishment enough, just trying to get it inside me.
I looked at Sherry frankly as she stood up beside me.
“These are heavy,” she said, feeling her bonds. “You didn’t
chain me before, Jeff.”
“There’s a first for everything, and you promised you’d try
anything once,” Jeff replied.
“Sherry, are you going to let me love your husband as much as
you do?” I asked her. She looked at me.
“You mean, am I going to let him fuck you?”
“Well, yes, if I want him to,” I said. Jeff laughed.
“I guess so,” she replied. “But remember. We’re only doing
this once. After that he’s all mine again, and you go back to your
beachball and your mom.”
“You’re a bitch,” I said to her. “Jeff will like me better
than you when this night is over.”
“What a great time for a competition!” Jeff exclaimed. “Get on
your bolsters, girls.” He walked to the wall and hung up his crop and
got down a long whip.
“What’s that for?” I asked him.
“You don’t want to lose the race, do you?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Well, if you fall behind, I’ll whip your bottom, like a horse,
so you’ll race faster.” Jeff grinned at me.
“You’re so helpful, Jeff,” Sherry sighed. She looked at me.
We were a little less envious of each other now as we comtemplated our
mutual fate. “There’s no polite way to do this, no matter what the
rules,” she said. Looking down, I could see that if I got down on that
big bolster, putting it between my legs so I could pull it down the mat
to the other end, I’d be showing off my tail. Not just a little, but a
lot. I’d practically be flaunting it!
“Did Jeff invent this game?” I asked Sherry.
“Yes,” she sighed. Without further ado she plopped down onto
her bolster. Like mine, it was encased it a white sheet-like covering,
tied off at both ends, to make it slide smoothly. There was some lace
trim on the bolster, making it pretty. I imagined it had come from some
very nice, white-sheeted daybed. The bed, of course, was nowhere to be
seen.
Lying atop her bolster, Sherry’s thighs fell off it on either
side, much like when one lies atop a big horse. Her knees and calves
lay frankly in the cream of on the mat. Her elbows, too, were forced to
take purchase on the mat, where they sank into the cream.
“Under the cream is a layer of vaseline, just to make
everything as slick as possible,” Sherry said. She had to turn her head
and look behind herself, over her shoulder, to talk to me. Her hair
tumbled down over her slim shoulders and the ends of it skimmed the
cream.
“Sherry, I can see your butthole and your pussy and everything,
just like you’re a newborn,” I said to her.
“I know,” she blushed. “Get down here beside me. You’re not
allowed to be a spectator!”
I flopped down onto my bolster. I could feel my pussy and ass
open up behind me as I spread my thighs to get myself properly down on
my bolster.
“These chains are going to slow us down and make us have to
work harder,” I said to Sherry.
“I know, dear. That’s why Jeff made us put them on. Don’t
fall behind,” she added, with a quick glance at Jeff’s dangling whip.
He’d let the tip dangle over our bottoms as a warning.
“Ready girls?” Jeff asked.
“No,” I admitted.
“Kelly, you get a head start,” Jeff told me. “Since you’ve
never done this before. But at the halfway mark I’m going to start
encouraging whoever is behind.”
“Okay,” I gulped. It was all I could think to say.
“Ready, set, go!” Jeff shouted. He lashed his whip against the
back of the hot seat chair to let us know we’d better get moving.
I yanked and pulled at the front of my bolster. It slipped
easily along the mat. But keeping my pussy pressed down to it meant my
tail was holding me back. It felt wide and open behind me, but I knew
just crawling on all fours and dragging the bolster without lying on it
would get me an instant whipping.
I pulled and pulled and pulled at my bolster. I quickly found
out that keeping my belly pressed down to it meant my cunny was getting
rubbed each time I pulled on my bolster. I gasped at the pleasure. I’d
be screaming by the time I got to the other end! This was a kind of
self-masturbaton!
“Go!” I heard behind me. Sherry had been given permission to
start. Like seals we bobbed nude on our bolsters trough the sea of
cream. My head bounced up and down as I slid along, doing a kind of
breast stroke with my legs, the chains holding me back, making me
struggle more. I yanked at the front of my bolster and Jeff, appearing
beside me, watched with pleased amazement as my boobies flung themselves
all around, twin little beach balls caught forever in a juggling
crosswind.
Sherry came up alongside me. “Halfway!” she breathed. But she
was tired from working so hard to catch me. Her pace was forced to slow
a little and we bobbed along, neck and neck. I was getting the hang of
this now and I found I could just keep pace with her. Then, suddenly, I
saw her head pass mine. I felt a stinging rebuke on my bottom.
“Yeeeowwww!” I screeched.
“Go, Kelly! You’re my girl!” Jeff laughed. Squirming atop my
bolster I tried extra hard to catch Sherry. I did, and she hollared as
the whip landed on her. Mightily we struggled then, each of us almost
neck and neck. Whenever one of us fell even a little behind Jeff gave
us his ‘encouragement,’ flaying our bottom with a stroke of his whip.
Howling, panting, swooning from the rubbing of our clits
against the bolsters, Sherry and I raced down the length of the mat.
She arrived at her pillow just before I did and I felt Jeff’s whip
strike hard into my asscheeks to make me be sorry.
“Owwwwoooo!” I yelped. But I just as quickly forced myself to
take the big hot dog waiting over my pillow. I stuffed as much of it
into my mouth. I gobbled at it like I’d never eaten anything in my
life. Beside me, Sherry greedily ate at hers. Neither of us wanted to
lose. At the same time, to keep ourselves from cheating, we reached
back and spread our flaming asses for Jeff. I felt quite fearful doing
it, sure he would whip me right on my pussy. But he waited, seeing now
who would win.
I ate my hotdog right down to the cock ring in the wall. I
licked the ring clean. I looked for the whistle between our pillows,
and saw Sherry doing the same. ‘Please, God, I MUST have that whistle!’
I begged Jesus. I saw Sherry’s tongue sticking out. She almost had
it! We went at each other then, fighting with our tongues, each of us
trying to push the other’s mouth back. The whistle was right between
us, just above our noses. It was hard fighting and keeping my ass open
for Jeff, but I dared not let go of my behind. He let his whip’s tail
dangle and lick at my bottom just to make sure I remembered it.
“Tweeet! Tweeet!” I heard in my ears. Did I have it? No!
That momentary remembrance of the state of my bottom had let Sherry
steal away with the whistle. She blew on it like a madwoman, still
keeping her bottoms apart with her hands to show she hadn’t cheated.
I began crying. I had tried so hard, and I’d lost. Now I was
naked in a dungeon with just a whipped ass and nothing else, save the
chains that weighed down my feet and the manacles locked to my wrists.
And my heels, of course, with heels so high I risked breaking an ankle
walking in them. And, on top of that, I was up to my legs and elbows in
whipped cream. My pussy ate hungrily at me. I’d rubbed it on the
bolster so much it felt like it had some sensual fire burning within
it. Bravely I kept my hinds open to show I’d at least tried my best. I
was sure Jeff would flay me alive with his whip but instead he just
knelt down behind me and kissed me. On my ass, of course. I let go of
my fanny and grabbed my pillow with my hands and bit into it. He licked
and licked and licked at me right on all the marks he’d given me with
the whip. Pressing my face into my pillow I bit it, hard. I prayed he
decided to fuck me, anyplace, instead of beating me more with that awful
whip. It was a devil’s bargain, but I still didn’t want to be spanked,
even now, even with my chains on and my bottom bare.
“Jeff,” Sherry whined beside me. “You’re supposed to fuck the
winner!”
“Well, I changed my mind,” Jeff said behind me. I felt a rude
bump against my tail and realized it was his cock.
“Ohhhh!” Sherry glowered. She got up and found she could do
little with the heavy chains weighing her down. She kicked my arm with
her open-toed shoes. “You’re the loser! You’re supposed to get
whipped!” Sherry shrieked at me. I wanted to tell her that I was going
to steal her house and her husband too, but I knew taking Jeff in my ass
wasn’t going to be easy. I felt a slick wetness bump into me again and
realized he’d lubed himself up. A quick spooning of his cock on the
tarmac would have taken care of that. I bit my pillow and waited. He
rimmed my hole with a finger that felt like it had been scraped on the
tarmac. It was greasy and he tested my hole with it.
“God, she’s tight,” Jeff said to his wife. She knelt down
beside him and looked at my fanny as if she were a nurse.
“Don’t spare her, Jeffie,” she said. “Make her take all of
you.” She was vengeful.
“This is going to hurt. But if you prefer it to a whipping,
it’s what you’re going to get,” Jeff told me.
“It’s what you WANT her to get,” Sherry said.
“So it is,” Jeff replied. I felt his hardness knock against my
ass. Squeezing my eyes shut I tried not to squeeze my cheeks. I knew
I’d have to be as open as possible to take his monster thing. Sherry,
feeling a little less put out now at seeing how I’d have to suffer to
accept him within me, rubbed my bottom. Then she parted my cheeks with
her hands. Jeff pushed himself forward. In the cream, his knees
sliding, he didn’t have much to purchase himself on. I felt his
cockhead press hard against my sphincter. For a moment it was just his
penis tip and my hole, doing a kind of pole dance, with his pole trying
to sink into my hole. I could feel his weight bearing fiercely down on
me as he shifted his hips forward to fuck me. His knees slid out from
under him and I found his body atop mine, his pole pressing unbearably
hard. I gasped. I bit my pillow and prayed to God. Sherry yanked my
cheeks wider apart and, suddenly, thinking of myself as nothing but
openess, openess, a hoping to poop out a turd, I suddenly found him up
inside me. I was plugged! Not by much, just the first half of his
cockhead, but it was a start.
For the next hour he worked over me, slowly, getting deeper and
deeper as the seconds ticked by. I cried and wept into my pillow.
Sherry bent down, letting herself sprawl in the cream, and licked at my
pussy. Jeff worked like a stallion breaking in a new mare until, at
last, I had enough of him inside me to let him do his work. Back and
forth he shunted, and when he let himself go I felt a huge spurting of
his cum deep into the very depths of my bowels.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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