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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Sins of the Flesh part 3 of 5 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SINS OF THE FLESH
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Three
Elaine and Jackie huddled together kissing. The dildo lay up
on the nightstand. The small crotch belt that allowed the dildo to be
worn by a female looked sensuous and delicate, in contrast to the big
rubber prong attached to it. A mere sliver of elasticized cloth ran
between the legs and stimulated the clitoris while the phallus was being
used on a friend. Around the waist the cloth was wider, about the width
of a man’s belt. It supported the large ersatz penis against the
belly.
Now the dildo itself was slathered with bottomoil and vaseline,
the belt dishevelled, stained with pussy juice. Earlier in the night
all had been clean, neat, new and ready for use. Now it was despoiled.
But the labor had been worth the effort, including the work that would
go into cleaning up the dildo and putting it away, for Jackie had
finally gotten her cherry popped. Her backdoor cherry, that men had
striven to break into but had been unable to. They had been men, using
real penises, lusty to see them spend. Elaine was female. She could
enjoy the dildo within her legs, even cum on it, while still diligently,
laboriously entering and (at last) shafting Jackie.
On the nightstand behind the used dildo stood a vase with fresh
daisies in them, picked from beside the pool as the girls came up the
stairs yesterday. The crystal vase which stood tall, holding the
daisies in its grasp, looked pure and virginal. Beside it sat a
favorite teddy bear from Jackie’s childhood. She’d brought it over to
Elaine’s to keep her company on a previous visit, left it, and now it
felt, perhaps, rather forgotten, as Elaine and Jackie cuddled, Elaine
with her nipples newly pierced and Jackie with her bottomhole newly
opened.
“Oooh, it hurt me pretty badly,” Jackie whined. Elaine was
lying between her legs, on top of her, kissing her belly.
“Of course. It always does the first time,” Elaine replied.
“You’ll get used to it. I love your belly button.” Wetly Elaine kissed
her friend’s navel.
“Oh, don’t try to fuck that too!” Jackie whimpered. Wickedly
Elaine delved her tongue into it.
“I might,” she teased.
“That dildo was too big for me and you pushed it too far up!”
Jackie said. She looked over at the big instrument that had deflowered
her.
“It has to be big, it’s a pretend man’s penis!” Elaine said.
“Quit being so silly.”
“Why do men need to fuck us?” Jackie asked. Contemplating the
dildo, she absently stuck a finger in her mouth, began sucking it.
“I don’t know. They have horrid big penises and are desperate
to stick them in things, most of all us. And we have hungry little
holes. Plus our hands, our mouths, you name it! We’re walking
advertisements for men with big things looking for holes to stick
themselves in,” Elaine answered.
“Yes,” Jackie agreed.
Elaine slapped Jackie’s stomach.
“Oooch,” Jackie said.
Elaine looked up at the windows of the room. Daylight was
filtering through. “It must be ten o’clock already. We’re lucky it’s
Sunday. We’d have missed work!” Elaine said.
“I have to go pee,” Jackie said.
“Me too,” Elaine replied. She got up from her friend with a
toss of her long, golden hair, feeling liquid in her movements, special,
loved. She waited for Jackie to push herself upright and then she took
her friend’s hand.
“Ouch it hurts sitting up,” Jackie complained.
“Your bottom will feel better after awhile,” Elaine said. She
kissed her friend on the mouth. “Happy first day of not being a
virgin!”
“Anywhere....” Jackie said. She reached back behind herself
and nudged a finger into her bottomcrack. “Ooch,” she said. “Well, I
was a virgin for 15 years total, counting everything, so I guess that’s
pretty good for a country with lots of men and child molesters running
around in it.” She shook back her long auburn hair from her eyes.
“Yes, if it wasn’t for those wicked men, we’d still be total
virgins, and I wouldn’t have to of helped you lose your anal cherry,”
Elaine agreed.
Jackie put a hand to her pussy. “It’s also men’s fault that I
have to go to the bathroom,” she said. Together, holding hands, they
walked into the bathroom. Elaine let Jackie go first. The girl sat
and, still holding her friend’s hand, for her bottom hurt, she peed
lustily into the toilet.
“Mmmm, that feels much better!” Jackie announced. She rubbed
her dell briskly with her hand.
“Did you ever pee with a friend?” Elaine asked.
“I’m doing that right now,” Jackie replied.
“No, silly.” Elaine laughed. She tossed her head to push her
hair back away from her face. It was a sweeping, sensual motion,
sending her long mane back (at least temporarily) behind her small
shoulders. She sat down on Jackie’s thighs, facing the girl.
“Ooof! What are you doing?” Jackie asked. She was smaller and
four years younger than her friend.
“I’m going to pee. And we’re going to kiss while I’m doing
it. Too bad you went already,” Elaine told her.
“I feel a little more in me,” Jackie said.
“Wait!” Elaine announced. “I could hold off a few minutes.”
She leapt up from her friend, ran across to the bathroom counter.
Quickly she filled a glass with water and came trotting back. “Here,
drink this,” she said, handing the glass to Jackie. “And I’ll get more
if you finish that. Drink as much as you can and then we’ll both pee
together. It’ll be fun!”
Sitting on the toilet, quite nude, her lovely round thighs
perched on a fuzzy seat, with her bottom bulbing down into the opening
in the seat’s hole, Jackie sipped the water. She smiled at Elaine. She
drank more, drank again, and finally the glass was empty. Lifting her
arm, she wiped it across her mouth.
“You have good water at this place,” Jackie said.
“That’s so I can have nice clean pee,” Elaine said. “If you
drink lots of clean, high-quality water, and pee a lot, you’ll be very
healthy.”
“I wish the pool guy was here to pee with us,” Jackie said.
She waited while Elaine refilled the glass for her.
Elaine got more water, then returned to her friend. Her
breasts bounced as she walked, holding aloft the glass. Her hips flared
out from her slim, flat belly, her pubis grew in soft inviting curls
between her legs. She was sensual in her movements, and happy. Her
eyes sparkled. At a younger age she might have felt guilty peeing with
a girlfriend but now, with her breasts sporting gold rings, her pussy
well-opened by men, she felt no guilt in sharing a private moment with
another girl. They had served the men in the cabin with every ounce of
their bodies, satisfied their every demand. They both still had chafed
wrists from the ropes to prove their loyalty to men. Now they could be
intimate just as females, safe from men and their lust. They could be
happy together, or sad, they could hold a party and both cry if they
wanted to.
Elaine sat down on her friends thighs, hopefully gazing at her,
handing her the glass and waiting while she drank it down.
When the glass was about half empty Jackie paused to take a
breath. Her eyes were drawn to Elaine’s pierced nipples. Tentatively
she extended a finger to one.
“Oooooooh,” Elaine said in a trembly, breathy voice.
“Do these hurt?” Jackie asked curiously. Eliane watched as the
girl flipped at the ring thrust through her nipple.
“Yes, they’re quite sore right now, or tender, or something,
I’m not sure. Don’t touch them!” Elaine begged. But little Jackie was
full of curiousity and she flipped first one ring in one nipple and then
worried over the other and Elaine, though she had begged not to be
touched, let her. She took hold of the cheeks of her ass with her
hands, quietly, her own ass, and gripped it hard while letting Jackie
explore her.
“I like them. But they are a little scary,” Jackie confessed.
“You should talk,” Elaine said. “Do you think they make my
nipples look better or worse?”
“Hmmmm,” Jackie said. She took another drink of water. “Not
better or worse, but different. Mine look free but yours, even though
they’re nude, look captured. Enslaved.” Jackie’s eyes twinkled. “Have
you ever dreamed of being a slave? A real slave? Not a slave working
in cotton fields, or building the Pyramid,” (she laughed, thinking of
what a Pyramid vaguely resembled) “but, you know, a slave like in the
storybooks. An enslaved princess.”
“Yes,” Elaine confessed. And suddenly Jackie had to pee quite
badly, and both girls, embracing, rubbed their bellies together and peed
out their water. The dual piss they made sounded like rain. Jackie
dropped the glass and it broke across the tiled floor of the bathroom
but neither girl noticed for at least 15 minutes, for after they’d peed
they sat wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing, and then they wedged
hands into each other’s dells and they rubbed each other quite merrily.
Elaine emerged from the shower. She was tall and blonde and
she dried her hair with a soft, serious look on her face. Jackie sat at
her kitchen table completely nude, save for a big pink towel wrapped
like a turban around her head. Her feet didn’t quite touch the floor,
just her toes, and she was playing with a make up kit, painting her
nails and putting on lipstick and eyeshadow.
Elaine shook out her long hair. She didn’t bother to wrap the
bathtowel around it. Instead she went back to the bathroom, got a
hairdrier, one that was battery operated, and sat down at the kitchen
table across from her friend. She was calm, composed, mature. Jackie
figeted in her chair, across from her, impatient to be doing something
fun but not knowing what to do, so instead fiddling with her nails.
“What if a man came up to you and asked you if you wanted to be
a slave, a real slave?” Elaine asked Jackie.
“I’d tell him to go piss in his pants,” Jackie answered. “I’d
have to love a man very much to be his slave.”
“But what, what if he was very handsome, and you thought he was
wealthy, and as you sat looking at him he came over to you, invited
himself to sit down at your table, in a restaurant, and then very
bluntly and very frankly he told you how beautiful you were and how he
wanted to make you his slave.”
Jackie shivered. She kept painting her nails. “Did that
happen to you?” Jackie asked.
“Yes,” Eliane answered. “And he told me that he would do
amazing things to me but, to show I was completely in agreement, I had
to find someone to pierce my nipples first, so that I would know what
pain was like and was able to handle it and accept it.”
Jackie’s eyes darted up from her nails. “That’s so... scary!”
She said. Her eyes were like saucers. Then she added, “If you go, take
me along. I’ll protect you.”
“You have to get your nipples pierced first,” Elaine said.
“I’m not doing that,” Jackie answered. She returned to her
nails. She was laquering them with a deep red color. “I need to grow
my nails more,” she said. She examined her hand.
“Listen to me!” Elaine said. She reached across the table and
grabbed the girl’s hands by her wrists, so as not to smudge the nail
polish. “I’ve got to decide. I don’t know what to do. The guy is
gorgeous, not ordinary gorgeous but really, really gorgeous. Should I
or shouldn’t I?”
Jackie, her chafed wrists imprisoned in her friends hands,
considered. She scrunched up her nose, looked above her friend’s head.
“Hmmm, you get to be a princess, right?” she asked.
“Well, he SAID he’d treat me LIKE a princess,” Elaine replied.
“If you take me along can I be like, an assistant princess, or
a junior princess?” Jackie asked.
“Why do you keep making this about you?” Elaine said. “I’m
trying to ask you a very serious question. I mean, I got my nipples
pierced for him, I guess I got them pierced for him, I think I did, or
anyway they got pierced anyhow. But should I go?”
“You have to go to the bathroom again?” Jackie asked. She let
out a high, gleeful childish laugh.
“You’re an idiot,” Elaine sniffed. She dropped her friends
hands and placed her own in her lap. First she tried to wrap them
around her breasts but when she realized they’d press against her
nipples, she thrust them to her lap instead, in deference to her
tenderness at being newly pierced.
“I’m not the one who got my nipples pierced,” Jackie said. She
looked down at her own unpierced nipples. They stood out from her
breasts perky and free of any device.
“Well, I’m going,” Elaine said. “You’ll have to stay in your
own apartment from now on. I’m tired of modelling. I want to be...
different,” Elaine said. Her eyes took on a dreamy appearance and she
seemed to be placing herself in another world.
“I’m coming to. As your Protector,” Jackie said. She put more
red paint on her nails.
“You can’t be my protector. If anyone is, HE is,” Elaine told
her friend. “I’ll have to rely on him completely. I’m sure there’ll be
no one I can call, no one I can turn to for help. He’ll be totally in
control of me and I’ll have to do whatever he says, and hope he finds it
pleasing.”
“How long will he keep you?” Jackie asked. She looked up from
her nails.
“He said that depends,” Elaine answered. Now it was she who
looked down at her nails and contemplated them. They were long, not
short like Jackie’s. They were painted the color of glossy pink
pearls. “He promises to treat me well, but says, within certain
parameters, I’m always free to leave.”
“Will he buy you presents?” Jackie asked.
“Of course. I’m sure he will,” Elaine answered. She looked at
her friend. “But it’s not about presents, silly. Presents are
something a guy brings to a girl to remember him when she’s by herself
and thinking of whatever she pleases, perhaps other men. In this
instance it will be me, and him, and there presents won’t matter much,
because I’ll be his slave. He’ll already own me. I’m sure he’ll treat
me very well but I’m the one who is giving the presents, pleasing him,
except the only present I’m giving is me, all of me....” her voice
trailed away.
Jackie shivered again. “Take me too,” she whispered. Her
voice was serious. She gazed at her friend with big eyes.
“Do you think he’ll make us pee together if I bring you along?”
Elaine asked her. Jackie giggled.
“I don’t know,” Jackie said. “I bet he might.”
“We’re wicked,” Elaine said.
“No, just naughty. In need of a spanking,” Jackie said.
“Yes,” Elaine agreed. “We both need a spanking.”
“Too bad the pool guy isn’t here,” Jackie said.
On a hilltop outside of town the cab let both girls out.
Elaine and Jackie looked at each other. A view of the city stretched
out below. In the distance, the sun was setting, a giant red orb
dipping slowly into the sea. Deciduous trees blanketed the lower parts
of the hill, the treetops just sticking up, striving to block the girl’s
view of the city but only making for a canopy of pointed, leafy peaks.
The city remained unobstructed. Lights glimmered on in buildings as the
sun sank lower. A cool breeze rose, whisked a leaf down the street past
the girl’s feet.
“Beautiful view,” Jackie said, quietly, holding Elaine’s hand.
“I don’t think we’ll be getting to see much of the view,”
Jackie whispered. Both girls felt like frightened deer waiting for the
start of hunting season. “We must go inside,” Elaine said, turning,
drawing Jackie’s with her by tugging on her hand.
“I want to go home,” Jackie said.
“We’re here now, silly,” Elaine scolded. The wind lifted her
skirt. She had to slap her hand down to her thighs to keep it from
showing her panties. The road was empty but, looking up at the windows
in the old castle sitting on the hill, she knew someone must be
watching.
The old stone structure was a monument to some long-dead
executive’s ego. He’d made money as CEO of something, built himself a
small castle to celebrate himself, and then promptly died of a heart
attack. The heirs had seen little use for an oversized sink for
property taxes, and sold it. Now the man who’d invited Elaine to be a
princess for awhile owned the place. It was a clever ruse, girls liked
being princesses.
“It’s scary but it’s pretty too,” Jackie admitted. She
squeezed Elaine’s hand.
“Come on, it’s getting chilly. We have to get inside,” Elaine
told her.
“Maybe I can use the phone to call a cab to take me home,”
Jackie suggested.
“Not after you see him,” Elaine smiled. “He is very much a
dreamboat. You’ll do anything he wants, I guarantee you.”
“OOOOH!” Jackie gave an involuntary shiver. “Can I have him
too on the days when you’re not busy being a princess?”
“Shhhh,” Elaine put a finger to the girl’s lips. “I’m going to
knock on the door and I want you to be very polite and quiet, okay?”
“Okay,” Jackie whispered.
The girls stepped between two big stone lions reclined at the
bottom of a flight of stone steps. Jackie gave the lions a frightened
glance, admiring their power, their majesty, the folds of their fur and
their muscles. Each lion had his mouth open, and displayed jagged stone
teeth.
“Are those lions sleepy and yawning, or hungry and hoping for a
bite to eat?” Jackie asked her friend, pointing.
“Shhh, or I’ll take a bite out of your bottom,” Elaine
answered. “Be good. You can’t protect me if you’re scared and talking
a lot.”
“Okay,” Jackie agreed again. Both girls mounted the steps,
holding hands, their bottoms giving extra wiggles as they walked because
they couldn’t help being worried at what they were getting themselves
into. Yet the castle door drew them like a magnet; big, imposing, hard
old wood with a large iron knocker suspended from the mouth of a wolf.
“He looks hungry too,” Jackie observed on the top step, looking
up at the wolf.
“Shhh! I told you!” Elaine scolded. “You already look too
young to be here. Don’t point at all the lions and wolves and stuff and
make dumb remarks.”
“Well, I’m still kinda little,” Jackie said. She looked down
at her bosoms. “I mean my tits are big and everything, but inside I
still feel small and vulnerable.” She liked that word. She’d learned
it last year from a teacher who taught her about evil men and strangers
and feminism and what it means to be a female in the world.
‘vulnerable.’ Yes. She certainly felt that, standing on stone steps
guarded by two hungry stone lions with a wolf peering down at her from
the door.
CLACK CLACK CLACK Elaine knocked the iron knocker against
the door. The girls waited. The wind gusted down the street, hustling
leaves ahead of it. The girl’s long hair, held by barrettes, fluttered.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Jackie confided.
“What?” Elaine asked.
Jackie put a hand to the front of her leather miniskirt.
“Well, all this scary stuff makes me want to pee!” she said.
Suddenly the door flew open. Jackie was still standing with
her hand pressed between her legs, talking to Elaine, when both girls
suddenly realized they were in front of a door that had been opened and
someone was standing there. They looked up.
“Ah, two young, healthy females,” a female voice said. She was
a statuesque woman, not unlike Joyce, but she had brown hair, like
Jackie’s, except darker, and lines were just beginning to show on her
face. “Come in, dears,” she invited. She induced the girls to enter
and, when they were inside, she gently closed the front door.
The girls found themselves in a large stone entryway. A
chandelier of modest porportions hung above their heads. Its cut glass
cast a scattering of light all throughout the foyer.
“I trust you’ve both had your nipples pierced?” the woman asked
Elaine and Jackie.
“She hasn’t,” Elaine replied. Jackie gulped. The woman wore a
vest with a thin velour sweater and twin rings could be seen topping the
two slopes of her breasts, pressing out against the fabric of the
sweater. When Elaine told the woman of Jackie’s condition the woman’s
breasts sprouted hard nipples. They grew erectly into the sweater, in a
matter of seconds, until they cast the sweater farther out than the
rings themselves did.
“I see,” the woman said. “Perhaps you would both be so kind as
to remove your blouses and let me see how you look.”
“Right here?” Jackie asked. She remembered undressing in front
of Joyce, but then men had been present, exciting her, urging her on
with her eyes. Here she was simply alone and it felt awkward,
‘vulnerable,’ to have to undress with your friend in front of some
strange older woman.
“Please,” the woman said. “I’ll have to turn you both out if
you don’t.”
Elaine swallowed, nudged her friend, and began unbuttoning her
blouse. There was a glimmer of a smile on her lips. She at least was
not going home. Jackie hesitated.
“I don’t know if I should,” Jackie said.
“It’s entirely up to you, my dear,” the woman said. She turned
aside. Her hair was pinned up and she looked lovely. She wore a
knee-length skirt that matched her vest that hung open and apart over
her velour top. She had on high heels. She fiddled with a single fresh
rose that stood all by itself in a glass vase on a maplewood table in
the foyer, next to a plant with broad leaves that sat in a pot on the
floor. A second plant sat across from it, hedging the girls in. The
woman removed the rose from the vase. “I’ll give you this if you do,”
she said.
Jackie smiled. She felt a sudden warmth toward the woman.
She’d played in the cabin at Joyce’s and she’d had sex with her
boyfriend back home and she’d even (wicked though it seemed to her now,
though at the time they’d both been randy)... she even let Elaine
introduce her to anal sex.
“Alright,” Jackie whispered. She undid the buttons of her
blouse.
“Just put it on that chair there,” the woman advised. Elaine
was barebreasted upon removing her top. Her nipples were tender, newly
pierced with rings. Jackie, however, wore a white lace bra. Elaine
cast her blouse over the back of the chair indicated by the woman.
Jackie followed, then looked at the woman expectantly.
“Your bra too, dear,” the woman said gently to Jackie. “I must
see your breasts. Your nipples,” she said.
“Here, I’ll do it,” Elaine offered. She went behind Jackie.
“She’s scared,” Elaine told the woman. The blonde reached for Jackie’s
bra clasp and undid it.
“Nooooo!” Jackie whined. But her bra was undone, and her boobs
popped out. Her nipples were found to be upright, in a state of
excitement.
“Oh, very nice,” the woman said. She bent and cupped both
Jackie’s bosoms in her hands. She brushed her thumbs over the pert
little nipples. “These will be a delight to pierce,” she said. “I’m
sure I can convince Master to let you stay here with them just as they
are for now.”
“Thanks,” Jackie replied.
“Now,” the woman said, turning to Elaine. “Let me see yours.
Freshly pierced, hmmm? Are they still tender?” She cupped the girl’s
breasts.
“Yes!” Elaine gasped. She watched as the woman hefted her
breasts and then, as if handling the stems of precious hot house fruit,
passed her fingers over the pierced, ring-laden nipples. “Who gave you
the rings?” she asked. “They’re pure gold.”
“The woman who pierced me,” Elaine said. “Will my nipples be
okay?”
“They’re fine, perfect! A beautiful pair,” the woman said.
“She did a perfect job piercing them, whoever she was.”
“Her name was Joyce,” Elaine said.
“She did them in a log cabin,” Jackie added. She rubbed her
wrists, feeling the chafe marks that were almost healed aross her
wrists.
“Well, yours will be done in a big stone castle,” the woman
said to Jackie, still fondling Elaine’s tits. She looked over at her.
Jackie gulped. “I like mine just as they are,” she said. She
stuck her bosoms out proudly and looked down and admired them.
“Of course, dear. We all do,” the woman said. She finished
examining Elaine’s pair and stood up. She brushed back a strand of hair
that had fallen down from her coiffure. She had pearls ringing her
throat, like a collar, and her wrists, like bracelets. A gold pin with
a ruby gleamed in her pinned-up hair. The girls stood before her just
wearing their little dance club miniskirts. They were made of leather,
with white school girl panties beneath, to tease men they met in the
clubs, except tonight they’d be partying privately, in the castle. They
were too young to need nylons. Their legs were bare. Their feet were
shod with dark rubber-soled sneakers so they could dance wildly, if they
wished, and still look sexy. The girls liked going out dancing.
“I have to pee,” Jackie said to the woman.
“You do?” the woman grinned. “I remember I had to do the same
thing when I first came here. Master will be home soon. We’ll wait and
see which bathroom he wants you girls to use. Come, let’s have tea.
There’s no point in standing here in the foyer waiting for him.” She
turned, beckoned both girls to follow. They went to the chair to
collect their blouses.
“Oh, leave those there!” the woman insisted. “Master will
enjoy seeing them there when he gets home. You girls must learn to
tease a little, hmmm? You both looked dressed for dancing. Do you like
to dance?”
“Of course,” Jackie replied. Resolutely she picked up her bra
from the chair.
“Then we’ll dance when Master gets home,” the woman answered.
“He has his own place for dancing, upstairs, where you can see the whole
city. It has big glass windows and a very cool sound system and you can
both dance there all night, if you wish, and there won’t be any need for
you to have tops on because anyone looking in would be quite far away
indeed, barely able to see you.” The woman walked down a hall, her
footsteps echoing on its stone floor. She did not look back to call the
girls again. Instead she simply expected them to follow, like children,
or puppies.
Elaine batted Jackie’s hand. She made her put her bra back on
the chair. “Come on, we’re going to dance and have fun!” she
whispered. “See? I told you it would be cool.”
“I’d still like to have my bra on,” Jackie mused. Elaine
pinched her bottom beneath her skirt and took her hand.
“Ouch!” Jackie exclaimed. “What did you do that for?” she
asked. She blushed, knowing the woman down the hall must have heard her
exclamation.
“I did that because you’re being a slo poke and you’re going to
make us miss out on dancing in a big beautiful place with a dreamy guy
where we can see the whole city!” Elaine whispered in a low, serious
voice. “Come on! You can be such a baby some time!”
Together the girls hurried down the hall to catch the woman.
Smiling, but still not looking back at them, she led them into a small
parlor. The girls started, surprised looks on their faces, when they
saw a maid waiting quietly beside the table. She was dressed in a
perfect maid’s uniform, white glvoes, apron, high-necked collar on a
starched blouse, stockings, shoes and a black dress. She kept her eyes
lowered but, being fairly young, couldn’t help giving away with a smirk
that she’d caught sight of the girls’ bare breasts.
“This is Abigail,” the woman told Elaine and Joyce. “She’s
paid to assist me. Would you both sit, please? There’s cushions on the
chairs. We can talk about your piercing, Elaine, and how you felt about
it. Abigail will pour tea. And bring crumpets too, girl. Our guests
are here now. Don’t stand about wishing you had bosoms like they do.
Abigail pouted and left the room. She walked with flouncing
steps, golden curls bouncing from beneath her maid’s hat, down the back
of her neck, bobbing about her shoulders. Her hair was pinned up but
not excessively so, showing her youth and carefree nature despite her
prim uniform. She had small, high-perched tits which, given she was in
her late teens or early 20’s, would be with her at that size for the
rest of her life.
“Are her tits pierced too?” Jackie asked, sitting down. The
woman helped her sit at the tea table and pushed her chair in for her.
Then she did the same for Elaine.
“No, only prize bosoms are pierced, at Master’s command,” the
woman replied. “Nice big bosoms like you girls have. Plus Abigail, you
must always remember, is a paid employee. She serves. You girls are
guests, though Master, who knows, may buy you presents and things. She
serves, you are served. You’re pierced, she remains unpierced.”
“And me too!” Jackie piped up.
“What? You wish to work and scrub floors and clean toilets?”
the woman asked. She helped herself to a chair at the tea table,
brushed her hair back from her eyes and sat down. She reached up,
repinned her hair with the gold pin that held up her coiffure.
“No, I mean my bosoms,” Jackie said. She reached up and
frankly hefted her two breasts. Then she wiggled in her seat, for she
still hadn’t been given permission to go to the bathroom.
“You look like you’re giving yourself a breast exam,” Elaine
laughed at Jackie. The girl squeezed her tits and felt them.
“I like my boobs just like they are. And my nipples, and my
bottom too, just in case anyone thinks I need a spanking,” Jackie said.
She wiggled in her seat again. “Could I go use the bathroom now?”
Abigail returned. The woman ignored Jackie, bade Abigail pour
the tea. As Abigail leaned over to fill the woman’s cup, she remarked:
“Take off your top, Abigail. The girls were inquiring about your
breasts.”
“May I, ma’am?” Abigail asked. Her eyes lit up. She clearly
liked the thought of being able to display herself, perhaps to greet
Master and seek his attention over the other girls when he arrived.
“Yes, you may, dear. And I’ll take off my top too,” the woman
said. She shed her vest as Abigail reached back behind herself and
unzipped the back of her blouse. “If I can do it without mussing too
much my coiffure,” the woman added. Carefully she lifted up her velour
sweater. Elaine and Jackie watched. They exchanged smiles.
“My zipper’s stuck!” Abigail complained. She couldn’t get the
back of her blouse open.
“Come here, I’ll do it,” the woman said with annoyance. She
revealed a pair of huge, mother-like bosoms as she pulled up her
sweater. They fell out and hung naked before the girls, thorougly
pierced in each nipple with a golden ring. Her nipples were hard and
they seemed to strain to break free of the rings, which hung from the
mid-point of each stemming nipple. But however much the twin nipples
stuck forth, the rings remained heavily pierced through and hanging
beneath them. They were captive nipples, delighted and lovely and warm
red in color but nonetheless bearing the mark of ownership. By Master.
The man Elaine had gotten her nipples pierced for and the man who also,
no doubt, would want to see Jackie’s nipples pierced too.
In striking contrast to the woman’s nipples, whose name, she
remarked to the girls, was Lady Beverly, just like that, with the Lady
always being spoken as well as the Christian name; in contrast to her,
Abigail, when she had gone to Lady Beverly and been unzipped, and lost
her bra, revealed a perfect apple-sized pair of small tits that were
unpierced. They had pink nipples, in contrast to the rose ones Lady
Beverly bore. Both females had flat bellies. Their skin was pleasantly
tanned, though much lighter than the tans Elaine and Jackie sported from
playing every day by the pool. Where the women’s breasts grew, their
skin was absolutely white, just like the girls’. The four females
looked at each other and broke into giggles.
“Master will be very pleased,” Abigail said.
“And he’s coming home to see his new guests, not you, my little
maid,” Lady Beverly said to the girl. “Have you brought the crumpets?
Good. We shall eat, then. Finish pouring my tea and pour out some for
the girls. Not too much for Jackie. She has to go the bathroom.” Lady
Beverly smiled at the young model.
“I can’t hold it much longer,” Jackie said.
“Master will be home any minute,” Lady Beverly replied. And,
her breasts wobbling like twin red-tipped volcanoes of flesh on her
chest, she daintily bit into a crumpt. One of her nipples almost dipped
into her fresh cup of tea on the table.
“Oh!” Lady Beverly cried. She carefully lifted the teacup out
from under her bosom and brought it to her lips. “One of the troubles
of being a true Al Bundy woman,” she smiled.
“Who?” Jackie asked.
“The guy on T.V.,” Elaine told her. “The shoe salesman.”
“Oh. I thought you were owned by... by Master, not by a shoe
salesman,” Jackie said to Elaine.
“I am, dear. And you too, now, though less completely than me,
at this stage.” She sipped her tea. “I only meant God made like Al
Bundy would like to have me, if he could, which of course he can’t,
although, considering he’s really a wealthy, famous L.A. actor, I guess
he could, perhaps...” She let her eyes lift into the distance a moment,
then dismissed the thought.
A noise sounded in the hall. Both Elaine and Jackie jumped in
their seats. Their bosoms quivered. Lady Beverly smiled. Abigail
betrayed a grin. Then she kept watch, over the diners, standing primly,
lest any of them request more tea.
Footsteps sounded heavily in the hall, a quick, certain gait,
the gait of a young man. Suddenly the door to the parlor opened.
“Master!” four voices chimed in unison. Beverly chuckled
afterward, her eyes bright, her large bosoms wobbling nakedly on her
chest, the rings hanging from them like obscene Pirate jewels.
“Would you like some tea, master?” Abigail asked politely. She
held up the teapot in offering.
“Well, it must be warmer in here than it is out there,” Master
said. “It’s freezing out there!” He grinned at the females. He eyed
Elaine. She smiled briefly, reached for her tea. She tried to lift it
to her lips. Her hand was shaking.
“You pierced your nipples for me,” Master said to her. He
walked over to her. He towered above her. He was tanned and buff, at
least six feet tall, if not more. He had dark curly hair and a five
o’clock shadow on his face, which was really a 9 o’clock shadow, as it
was no longer afternoon. He wore a striped business suit but he’d not
brought in his jacket, hanging it instead in the hall, in a closet near
the chair where the girls’ blouses and Jackie’s bra had been laid.
Jackie, surprised and delighted that he was as much as a dreamboat as
Elaine had promised, gazed up at him, grinning shyly.
Master bent over and cupped Elaine’s tits very gently. He
hefted them in his hands, as if weighing fruit. Then he toyed with the
nipples and the gold rings that had been thrust through them.
“Yes, a perfect job,” Master said. “I trusted you’d find
someone capable to do it.”
Elaine looked shyly down at her boobs in his hands. She licked
her lips.
“I’m her friend!” Jackie piped up. She sat expectantly with
her hands in her lap, perhaps diddling herself just a little, absently,
with a finger slipped under her very short skirt.
Master, still keeping possession of the prize, newly-pierced
gourds in his hands, looked at Jackie.
“And what are you doing here?” he asked. He eyed her naked
unpierced breasts but she was too naive to catch the full extent of his
meaning, for although he might have intended to speak harshly to her his
voice came out as a soft Snake Plishkin sort of whisper.
“I’m-- well...” Jackie paused. Beverly was afraid she might
become frightened, and perhaps disrupt the easy eroticism of the moment,
so she suggested,
“She’s here to go dancing, dear.”
“Yes!” Jackie agreed. She gazed at Master’s huge form bent
over Elaine and, as her eyes drifted down to his crotch, she added,
hopefully, “And to get balled, too.” She waited for the effect of her
words to sink in on Master and, when he arched an eyebrow at her, she
left her lips from the “too” in her sentence pursed and gazed at him
with inviting eyes.
Master gave a chuckle. Abigail sniggered. Elaine, still held
by her bosoms, gave a small, slight laugh and felt her bosoms shake on
Master’s calloused palms.
“Well,” Master said. “You might find I have rather exotic
tastes. Why didn’t you get your nipples pierced if you wish to live in
my house with me?”
“I was afwaid,” Jackie admitted. She glanced down at her perky
nipples, sticking up from her bosoms like eager pink thorns.
“I can help you overcome your fear,” Master replied. He gave
Elaine’s breasts a final squeeze and stood up. “Are you wearing
panties?” Master asked. He leaned in over both girls. He put a hand on
each of their small shoulders, possessively. The girls nodded.
“Of couse we’re wearing panties,” Jackie said. “I’d get in
trouble with my mom if she knew I was running around without panties
on.”
Master frowned.
“She’s modelling here for the summer,” Elaine added quickly.
“Her mom’s in--”
“My mom’s in Iowa,” Jackie offered. “My grandma lives there.
And I’m living here, for the summer. Have you ever met any models
before?” She smiled brightly at Master.
He could not keep his frown on his face, despite his concerns
that the girl might be too young. His frown dissolved and he grinned.
“Yes,” he laughed. “I’ve known some models. But you’re the prettiest.
Except for your friend here,” he added. He ran his fingers through
Elaine’s hair, touched a barrette. He unclipped it. “Let your hair be
free, totally free, like your breasts,” he said to Elaine.
“Do you want me to take my barrettes out too?” Jackie asked in
a high, shrill voice. Elaine glared at her. She realized it had been a
mistake to bring the girl along with her. She’d let her fear of what
might happen, an erotic interlude where she became her Master’s
obsession, lead her into bringing along a brat who insisted on having
all the attention.”
“She needs to go pee,” Elaine said querolously to Master.
“She does?” Master asked. He rose. His attention left Elaine,
unexpectedly, and she felt like bolting from the room, she was so
unhappy.
Master noticed, somehow. Perhaps it was his attentiveness to
her demeanor that had drawn him to her in the first place. He
straightened up. “Girls,” he said. “Elaine, love. Take off your
panties. And you too, Jackie, but don’t be talking while you do it,
just take them straight off. You won’t be needing panties here, either
of you.”
“But I always need my panties!” Jackie protested.
“Shhhh! Do as you’re told!” Beverly scolded. She reached
across the table and threatened to slap the little brunette.
“Elaine,” Master said. “Remove your panties and place them on
the table. Did you take a Pill this morning?”
“No,” Elaine whispered.
“I didn’t eith-- YEOCH!” Jackie cried. Lady Beverly reached
across the table quick as lightning and gave her a slap. Her big bosoms
juddered, Jackie’s smaller tits bounced on her chest. A red splotch
formed on her cheek, then whitened again.
Master stood over Elaine, attentive, his gaze peering down at
her. His big hands held her small, soft shoulders and he rubbed them in
a kind of gentle, encouraging massage. Elaine lifted her bottom
slightly, felt her dress rise with her, felt its short length slip out
from under her thighs. The seat was smooth, cool vinyl under her legs.
She reached within her skirt and pulled down her underpants. The
portion in her crotch resisted until the last moment, popping out of her
snatch only when all else had been yanked halfway down her thighs.
Elaine drew them down to her feet and had to bend over, master still
rubbing her shoulders, and pull them in a tangle off her high-heeled
sneakers. She placed them up on the table next to her plate. They were
white, frilly. They were wet in the center, where they had lain in her
crotch. She smoothed them a little on the table cloth, but Master told
her to drink her tea.
“Don’t fix your dress,” he said, seeing her reach underneath
herself to place her skirt under her thighs. “Lift it up. Get your
bare ass right on the seat of the chair. I told you everything would be
open and free here.”
Elaine pulled up her skirt. Master had never seen her pussy
and she moved carefully, hoping to prevent him from seeing her thatch,
but he leaned over and frankly pulled up her skirt in front and looked
down at her dell.
“Lovely. Same color as your hair,” he said. “Do you feel your
bare ass on the seat?”
“Yes,” Elaine breathed.
“Good,” he said. “Get used to it. How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” she breathed. The vinyl felt imposing upon her
skin, as if it controlled her. She had no protection from it. Her
panties were lying by her plate, her dress was rudely pulled up. Her
blouse was a memory down the hall.
“Nineteen,” Master breathed. “You look older, but nineteen is
still not too young.” Elaine smiled. It was still a compliment, at
nineteen, to be told she looked older than she was. It let her into the
clubs and it helped her meet men like Master, dreamboat men who wanted
to care for her. Jackie had to wear lots of makeup to get herself into
clubs, and sometimes she struck out, and even inside the clubs men found
her too young, too impish, and preferred other girls. “I may not give
you anything to prevent giving birth after we’ve finished,” Master
said. “I don’t know, certainly I will make you pregnant while you’re
here. Then, perhaps, I’ll fall in love with you, and keep you too long,
and deny you anything to help you end your pregnancy. Would you be
willing to bear a child for me?”
Elaine smiled. “Twins,” she said very softly. She didn’t like
speaking so frankly about what they were bound to do. Better to dance,
and to play, and to let the night develop, with her breasts swinging
freely.
“I could probably have triplets,” Jackie offered. She was
artless in her admiration of Master, hiding nothing, not pretending to
drink tea or to take a bite from her crumpet.
“You, my dear, are quite a little pest, and if I got you
pregnant I’d have two of you to contend with a year later,” Master
laughed. “Nonetheless you’ll be kept off the Pill while you’re here.
It will add to the excitement. You seem to thrive on that.”
“Can I go to the bathroom?” Jackie pleaded. She looked at
Master with big round eyes and put her hand to her dell, guilelessly,
and wiggled in her seat in dumb appeal.
“Finish your crumpet and drink your tea and then you may be
excused,” Master told her.
“Thanks!” Jackie said. Quickly she stuffed her crumpet into
her mouth and then, just as quickly, she dumped her tea in behind it.
“OW!” she cried suddenly, as hot tea (though it was more lukewarm than
hot by now) spilled on her breasts.
“See? That’s why we have our tea topless, to learn manners,”
Lady Beverly told Jackie.
“Ooops. I’m sorry,” Jackie admitted. Her mouth was full of
crumpet and she spit out crumbs inadvertently as she spoke.
“She needs a visit here more than Elaine does,” Lady Beverly
said to Master. “Look at her!”
“Elaine is visiting for another purpose,” Master said. “To be
groomed, perhaps as my wife, like a fine show horse.” He cupped
Elaine’s breasts again and hefted them up and felt their weight. She
shivered in his grasp. He looked over at Jackie. “That little minx, on
the other hand, needs basic training, and a good hard pounding on her
ass to make her behave.”
Jackie’s eyes bulged from her head. She threw down her napkin
on the table and gave up trying to clean the tea she’d spilled from her
naked breasts and the table. “Potty time!” she declared and, jumping
up, darted from the room before even Abigail could stop her.
A minute later the door reopened. Jackie peeked in. Master
had seated himself in Elaine’s seat and she was perched in his lap,
facing him. Although her skirt was still around her waist she had
spread her legs completely apart so that they stuck out around Master’s
waist and then out through the opening in the back of what had once been
her chair. They were engaged in a langorous kiss, not hurrying, slow
and loving, like two people kiss when they’ve just met but know they
were made for each other. Elaine’s naked bosoms were pressed up against
Master’s suit, almost imploring him, in their closeness, in their
disregard for how they rubbed against his starched shirt, to take her
however he pleased. The opening of the door to the parlor broke their
kiss.
“Where IS the potty?” Jackie asked. Her hand was placed within
her thighs. It pushed her little skirt back with it into her dell.
Abigail was seated on Lady Beverly’s lap, sharing a kiss,
sitting over the woman’s knees. She and Lady Beverly were rubbing their
bare bosoms together, laughing quietly at how their nipples excited each
other.
“Abigail, go show Jackie where she can piss,” Lady Beverly
said. The girl reluctantly made to get up from her mistress’ lap.
“No,” Master said. “I have changed my mind. Get up, Elaine.
I would let you go first but I know you would wait, and she’s bursting.
Come here, little miss!” Master helped Elaine get her legs out of the
back of the chair. He drew her knees up and then, when she was free of
it, she dropped her legs down through the space between the arms of the
chair and the seat and gave master a final kiss. He relished her kiss,
then insisted again she get up. He helped her, sliding his legs under
her bare fanny and lifting it.
Elaine looked sour but she brushed her hair back and tried to
keep her composure. She desired to do as her Master wished, even if it
displeased her, for that was the whole point of her being here, to go
beyond conventional boyfriends into a relationship charged with much
deeper emotions. Quietly, she got up from Master’s lap. She lifted her
leg and her dress fell back, showing all of her thigh as she dismounted
from him. Master gazed at the wisps of her thatch that showed under the
hem of her dress. When she was standing, next to him, he decided to
tease himself no longer with glimpses of her bush.
“Take off your skirt,” he told her. Then, turning to Jackie,
he said, “You too.” Both girls reached behind themselves. Jackie tried
to look to Elaine for comfort but the girl ignored her. Jackie unzipped
her skirt, hoping it would stick, like Abigail’s blouse had, so she’d
get more attention, but it unzipped smoothly and her skirt drooped in a
pool to her feet. She wore only her sneakers now.
“Come here,” Master said. Jackie walked hopefully to Master,
not knowing what to expect, but knowing she had to pee quite badly. She
walked with a hand in her dell and her bottom wriggling like a fish
caught on a hook. Elaine, meanwhile, bent over, her large lovely
breasts hanging down underneath her, to pick up her skirt, but Master
didn’t notice her.
“Get on my lap,” Master told Jackie. The girl clambered up
onto his knees. Facing him, she scooted forward on her legs and let him
take them and stick them, trap them, really, out through the back of the
chair.
“Now pee,” Master told Jackie. Elaine, who was walking round
behind his chair, to pick up Jackie’s skirt off the floor, stopped in
shock, in mid-stride.
“You want me to pee in your pants?!” Jackie asked, startled.
“Not in them. I’m wearing them. Pee on them. I’ve got to
wash your bottom anyway before you’re whipped. Wet bottoms sting much
better. Now pee in my lap. You do have to go, don’t you?”
“I do but--!” Jackie tried to escape. She waggled her hips and
tried to withdraw her legs from the hole in the back of the chair but
Master gripped her tightly. He looked at her unpierced adolsecent
breasts, small round balloons before his eyes. He grinned. He bent and
bit into one of the wiggling girl’s tits to still her.
“OUCH! Don’t DO that!” Jackie scolded. Master lifted his
head.
“Pee then,” he told her. “Pee now. You’ve peed in your
panties when you were a little girl?”
“Sometimes,” Jackie admitted. “When my daddy was mean and
didn’t pay attention to me and take me to the bathroom when I told him
to. Then, when I really had to go, we had to run, and by then it was
too late and sometimes I peed--” she giggled. “Once I peed right on his
suit while he was carrying me so we could get there faster. It got me
so excited, bouncing up and down in his arms, that I peed, even though I
might not have if he hadn’t carried me.” She giggled and leaned forward
and kissed Master’s shirt. She lifted her head and looked at him,
straight in the eye. “I’m going to wet you,” she said.
Elaine let out a snort of disgust. She picked up Jackie’s
skirt and folded it over her arm.
“Whoa!” Master cried.
“Wheeeee! I’m wetting you!” Jackie cried gleefully to the
man.
“Damn, you’re letting a lot out!” Master observed.
“Yes, right on your new suit! What will the drycleaner say?”
“My word, all over the floor and everything!” Lady Beverly
declared. She and Abigail looked, then shared a kiss. “You may do the
same if you like,” she whispered to Abigail.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ve never before. I hope you enjoy it.”
And then she peed too, and Elaine, who’d wanted to share a mature
romantic experience with this man she loved to call Master, almost
bolted from the room again.
“That’s enough for you,” Master said. He lifted Jackie up.
She was still peeing into his lap, the stream was still coming out of
her, but he’d sensed Elaine’s disappointment and he moved to make
amends.
“But I’m still GOING!” Jackie cried. She had loved kissing
Master as she peed and she didn’t want to be interrupted. Kicking like
a little girl taken too soon from the potty, for indeed Master now was
her potty, she was hoisted up from his lap by his great big hands and
plopped down on the floor. Her pee dribbled and ran down her legs and
she saw with disappointment that it was wetting her sneakers. “Ooooh!
No!” Jackie yelped. She opened her legs. She peed the rest of her pee
on the floor, standing in a half-squat, looking down at herself over her
pendant breasts, at her bare belly and bare thighs and the pee that
flowed so freely from between her cunt lips.
“Now you’re next,” Master said to Elaine. With quiet grace and
a dismissive smirk, so let him know she didn’t like being placed second,
Elaine nonetheless got back up on Master’s lap.
“Oooh, you’re sitting in my pee!” Jackie said gleefully to
Elaine, watching the girl mount up even as she, Jackie, continued to
squirt pee from her legs onto the carpet.
“Yick!” Elaine said to Master. She felt his pee-wettened lap
make contact with her bare thighs and bottom. Had he been any other
man, she would have already found a phone and been calling a cab,
retreiving her blouse, telling her girlfriends the next day what a
weird, perverted man she’d met. But he was so dreamy and perfect, so
absolute in his presence, in his need for her, and in his understanding
of her moods, that she got on his lap and decided to accept this new
thing that was happening to her.
“Now pee,” Master told her. And she did. Lustily. She found
herself laughing and they kissed and when she was done Master put his
hand to her dell and rubbed her passionately, almost making her cum.
His finger penetrated her snatch and she rode it a little. Behind her
she heard Abigal and Lady Beverly fingering each other, doing the same.
And, meanwhile, quite enjoying the sight, frigging herself as she
watched, little Jackie danced around in the nude, in her pee-stained
sneakers.
Upstairs they danced for Master. They were still wet with
their pee, wearing only their sneakers, their hair flowing freely around
their liquid forms as they cast themselves to and fro with the music.
It was a large room, windowed all around, and both girls wondered if
they could be seen. But they were both aroused, frigging themselves a
little, for Master said he didn’t mind as long as they kept themselves
from acheiving complete satisfaction. That was his job. He sat in a
chair overlooking the city, but facing the girls. He took his cock out
and stroked it languidly as he watched the two girls gyrate and whirl
and dance and fast-step in front o him. Lady Beverly served drinks,
still clothed from the waist down. Abigail brought up a bucket and
sponge from downstairs so the girls could be washed after the music
stopped. And then they’d be whipped. Master assured them of that, but
said he’d go easy on them, this first night, giving them only a
strapping, with the belt from his pants. He would apply it’s tail, not
it’s buckle, he assured them with a laugh.
So the girls danced, Elaine and Jackie, with a sense of
purpose. They were freed of everthing, even the need to pee in a
potty. When both girls had to go again he told them to pee as they
danced, and they did. Little Jackie hoped she might have to poop, to
steal the show, but she didn’t, much as she prayed her crumpets might
turn to poop in her tummy. She asked for more but Master, sensing her
plan, didn’t allow Abigail to bring any up.
“You must show off by dancing,” Master told Jackie. “Not by
performing bathroom habits in public.” Jackie blushed. Elaine, who
might have given her a scolding eye, didn’t. She was fully absorbed in
her dancing, her eyes closed now, letting Master watch and observe and
savor her movements. She knew her body was very beautiful and she was
proud to share it with a man she loved, or at least deeply admired. She
was flushed and hot and when she opened her eyes, and saw little Jackie
dancing near her, she impulsively embraced the girl. She kissed her and
she made her rub her belly against her own and their tits crushed
together and their nipples fought and poked into each other’s breasts.
“Spank us, Master!” both girls begged finally. They couldn’t
stand the thought of it happening but even less could they stand shaking
their white bottoms in front of him and waiting for it to happen.
“A little longer, a little more,” he said quietly. He rubbed
his great prick and both girls eyed it eagerly. They hated themselves
for being so wanton but he was a true gem of a dreamboat and neither
girl could hide her admiration for him from herself, or from him. He
gave both girls an easy grin. He was in the Catbird’s seat. They were
his and he could do with them whatever he wished. They would not deny
him.
Abigail filled a bucket with water in preparation for the
whipping. She waited on her knees, sailing a sponge around in the
bucket, humming to herself, still clothed from the waist down. She had
peed in her panties downstairs, on Lady Beverly’s lap, and now, looking
at Lady Beverly, both of them growing bored with the waiting, she
received a silent nod from the woman to slip out of her panties. They
were cold and wet and she took them off with relief. She waited for a
moment when Master was absorbed with the dancing of Elaine and Jackie
and she darted to the wet bar and stashed her panties behind a bottle of
Gin. Beverly, serving drinks, slipped out of her panties as well, and
hid them in the bottles. Master might peek under their skirts but then
again, he might not. They decided to risk being found disobedient to
their Master rather than spend the evening in wet panites. They both
wore longer skirts than the girls had, Abigail a skirt that stopped at
mid-thigh, a proper maid’s skirt; Beverly a skirt that fell to her
knees.
Master, being in complete control, subject to no whim but his
own, decided his passions were too enflamed by the girl’s eagerness for
his attention to stop with a simple spanking. More was needed. And it
could not be done here. It would have to be downstairs in a
soundproofed room where the cook and the other help could not hear and
no one, absolutely no one, no pervert with a telescope, could see.
Master stuffed himself back into his pants with difficulty. He zipped
himself up. He told both hot, flushed dancing girls to go over to
Abigail and let her give them a quick wipe on their legs and between
their thighs. He watched, sipping a fresh drink, brought to him by
Beverly.
“You wish them over the bar?” she asked.
“No. Downstairs,” he said.
“Oh.” She answered. “As you wish. I can give them a proper
bath first if you like, so they’ll look their absolute best for their
whipping.”
Master cleared his throat. Beverly looked at his crotch. “You
are excited,” she said. Of course he always sported a prominent crotch
at times like this, but she saw that he was aroused to the point of
being enflamed, of losing control. He did not like to lose control. He
cleared his throat again, coughed.
“Yes, they are quite delightful, are they not?” he asked. He
looked at the two girls and Beverly looked at them. They stood by the
bucket, spreading their legs helpfully for Abigail, letting her wash
their privates and their pretty curls of pubic hair. They straightened
their legs this way and that for her so she might scrub them with the
light, soapy bucketwater wherever she needed. She sponged their bottoms
and then, higher up, their bellies and their breasts. She washed both
their faces. When she was done, while both girls waited with their arms
wrapped around their bosoms, shivering a little in the cool night air,
Abigail emptied the bucket at the bar and refilled it in the big sink.
Then she rinsed both girls, twice over, so that when they were finished
they sparkled with a wet, clean sheen of water.
“Just do their hair,” Master said as both girls grinned over at
him. He spoke quietly, to Beverly. “Their hair, their makeup. I
didn’t know Abigail would be so industrious.”
“She is a fine maid,” Beverly said.
“Yes,” Master answered.
The girls were made to sit, one each on Master’s knees. They
rubbed themselves a little on his knees but Beverly made them stop so
she could apply a fresh coat of makeup to their faces. Abigail did
their hair. Master sat with his legs apart, his crotch bulging. He
kept a hand on each girl’s belly, feeling its wonderful flatness, the
dimpled navel, glad neither girl was presently on the Pill and would
have her womb ready for him when he came in her. The girls wiggled. He
patted thier flat bellies and told them to stop. They leaned back and
put their hands on his crotch. He endured.
“I have changed my mind about your spanking,” Master said to
the girls. He patted their bellies. Their bottoms both flinched. They
had satiny white heinies and he could barely contain his desire to see
them marked. “Jackie, you are too talkative and too eager to make
yourself the center of attention. Elaine, you are too withdrawn, too
jealous of Jackie.” He leaned forward and kissed Elaine’s ear, as if to
silently show her that he still loved her best, she was equal to Jackie
only in terms of the punishment they both would receive. “I have a room
downstairs where you both can be made to behave. You will not think of
disobeying afterwards, when it’s over. You will feel, right down to
your bones, a desire to please me, instead of only a half-desire, half
obedient and half rebellious.” He reached a finger into both girl’s
dells as he spoke, and quietly stroked them. Under any other
circumstances they certainly would have thought through the matter
carefully, would have refused. But they were warm and spirited from
their dancing. They had been bathed and pampered by Lady Beverly and
Abigail. They were constantly teetering toward orgasm during their
entire visit so far, building up to it, almost reaching it, being
denied. Now they were too heated in their loins and their breasts and
their heads to refuse. They both bit their lips, hearing him speak,
nodded. And then they both leaned back and tossed their hair clear of
their faces, as if nonchalant about it, uncaring, though their bottoms
wiggled with anxious regret upon hearing their sentece pronounced as
they sat on his knee. For it would be like a sentence, both of them
sensed that, a slow affair, with hopefully much balling inbetween each
lash of the whip, taking perhaps an hour, perhaps more. The two girls
looked at each other. Their eyes showed girlish worry and they
impulsively leaned across toward each other and embraced and kissed.
Then, bravely, at a command from Master, they separated and got up from
his knees.
Master had both girls walk ahead of him. He drew off his belt
so there would be no misunderstanding that the time for teasing and
talking and rebellion was over. The girls clasped hands, then let go
again, as if desiring to be more womanly. They walked separately.
Abigail went ahead of them, opening doors, then behind, to close the
doors after Master and Beverly, holding hands, had passed through.
Elaine’s long blonde hair trailed behind her as she walked,
cascading down her back and almost reaching her waist. Beverly
suggested quietly to Master that it be cut, so he could whip her back
without having to first pin up her hair.
“No,” he replied, too quiet for the girls in front of him to
hear. “Anything might be done to them, however cruel, but their hair
must never be cut. It is long and beautiful, and I like it that way.
Trimmed, if needed, to keep their bottoms bare and uncovered, but
nothing more.”
Beverly smiled, nodded. She liked the easy nature of the man
about girls and cruelty, mixed with a tender gentleness for the most
inane things; things which, however, in her mind separated the true
lovers and sadists from the mere hopefulls, men who didn’t understand
and would never understand because they were too busy dominating a girl,
instead of using dominance to draw her out.
The girls walked with a quiet composure. They felt a sense of
forboding mixed with delight. They were thoroughly nude and made-up.
Their hair was brushed, their lashes were perfectly combed, their
eyebrows were stencilled and their cheeks were powdered. Their lips
were painted bright red. They were stripped to just their sneakers,
which they’d removed for their bucket bath and then put back on, keeping
them dry. Master had watched them with leering eyes as they bent, all
knees and bobbing breasts and long lovely thighs, and tied their
sneakers back on. They enjoyed being loved by an absoultely handsome
and wealthy and devoted master. They liked the idea of having servants,
of being served, catered to, worried over. Yet there was a price, as in
all things. They must surrender their bodies. Yet was it not so in all
things? Would they not, if not to Master, surrender their wombs, and
surrender themselves one day to the pain of childbirth, to the soreness
of nursing a newborn? Elaine bowed her head and walked on,
watching her large breasts sway under her chin. She lifted her hands,
touched her belly. It would be full with His seed by morning. She felt
the quiet opening and closing of her white bottomcheeks behind her as
she took each step. She would be lashed there. She knew he would
strike her there, to see her show emotion and to test her love for him.
And he would quarter her, pulling her apart in back, and he would shove
himself... somewhere. She was glad she’d helped little Jackie get used
to having something up her butt, for he would most certainly want both
of them every possible way before he permitted them to leave. Elaine
looked over at Jackie. If only the girl knew that she herself had never
permitted anything up her bottom! She’d fucked the girl with the dildo
more for herself than anything, to see what it was really like, how much
it actually hurt, what it was like the next day when it was over but you
could still feel the presence of the phallus lingering in your hole.
What it was like the first time you pooped after having had something up
you.
The girls’ ankles were trim and their legs were long. Their
asses hovered above their thighs, below their waists, sticking out in
their whitness against the tanned flesh of the girls’ limbs and backs
like twin white bunny tails, hoping to hop away before the farmer’s
shotgun found them. There was a slight tensing of the cheeks now and
then, as each girl considered her fate. And then she’d toss her hair
back, and the tightness of the rear cheeks would ease a little as she
told herself it wouldn’t be too bad, more love than pain. More Master
than his belt.
Downstairs the girls were let into a cold room with bare tiled
walls and a stone floor. Both girls saw with dismay, lifting their arms
to their bosoms to ward off the cold, the antiseptic nature of the
room. They had expected perhaps a soft bed, flowers, a pillow or two,
perhaps a friendly teddy bear. Instead there was only the cold, white
tile. A single bulb in the center of the tiled ceiling stood naked,
casting a harsh white light. Everything would be seen in this room, in
this implacable light; the spaces between legs, the softness between the
cheeks of one’s bottom. It would be quite impossible for them to hide
anything. Against a far wall, standing in the nude shivering, observing
it, the girls saw iron shackles where they would be held. The shackles
had been padded on their insides to keep them from chafing the girls’
legs and wrists, but it was small comfort, given how the shackles would
expose all the rest of them to their Master’s whims.
On a table against the opposite wall, as far as possible from
the shackles, stood a small table. There was water there, and ammonia
pads to revive a girl, and vinegar for her breasts and snatch and
bottomhole if she kicked and screamed while being bound to the wall.
But while she was bound to the wall she would not actually be up against
it, for standing out from the wall were two posts. They were heavily
padded, as if a girl might desire to throw herself against the posts,
and require protection.
“Get them chained up,” Master said to Lady Beverly and
Abigail. He went to the table and poured himself a drink from a bottle
of bourbon sitting there. It was in a fresh bucket of ice, as if placed
there by a maid before their arrival. A maid who knew, though she would
not be present, what they would be up to. Elaine shivered, seeing the
bucket. Had the maid glimpsed her walking by, in the nude, to her fate,
wearing just her sneakers. She hoped not.
“May I have a drink first?” Jackie asked.
For once Elaine was glad to hear the girl speak up. Her brown
eyes looked imploringly at Master. Was she playing for time?
“You’ll only have to go to the bathroom afterward,” he said.
But he let them both have a drink anyway, for Beverly suggested they
might need anesthesia. She knew Master’s mind better than he did. She
could see that he was on the brink of madness tonight, looking at such
splendid girls. He’d had many before, but Jackie was so young, and
Elaine, obediently, had gotten her nipples pierced for him, though girls
rarely did that, preferring instead to show up as they were and take
their chances with angering him. They all left pierced, of course.
Master insisted on that. Sometimes in just their nipples, sometimes in
their tongues too, or even in their labial lips, or their clitoral
hood. One girl had been pierced right through her clitty. Beverly
would always remember her screams of impassioned agony as it happened.
Never had pleasure been mixed so intimately with pain.
They all sipped drinks. The two girls were naked, Beverly and
Abigail topless, Master still fully clothed. He was desperate to draw
himself free of his pants but he knew if he did, Elaine and Jackie would
be impossible to stop from blow-jobbing him, eager to win a reprieve.
He couldn’t trust himself not to let them both off if they made him cum,
if they wearied him, if they worked him until he was exhausted and his
balls were empty. Two girls with avid mouths might end the evening for
him in ten minutes. He was not as young as he looked. He worked out
very hard and was blessed with impeccable good looks, which made him
appear dignified as he aged, rather than old. But he knew his limits
and he knew how young and strong both girls were. Now he would wear
them down to his level, and only afterward would he fuck them.
“Come, girls,” Beverly said at last. “To the posts.” She was
slightly taller than Elaine and Elaine was taller than Jackie, so
Beverly put a hand behind both girls heads and walked them to the
posts. The girls’ bare bottoms wiggled anxiously as they walked. They
tried to look back over their shoulders at Master but Beverly’s hands
prevented that.
“Press yourselves up against the posts,” Beverly told both
girls. “Embrace them.” First Jackie, somewhat curious, did as Lady
Beverly asked, then Elaine. Both girls hugged the well-padded posts and
then waited as their limbs were drawn forward by Lady Beverly, or by
Abigail, for both worked to get them ready, and chained up against the
cold tiled wall.
Jackie felt Abigail lift both her arms, high up, past the post
and toward the wall, her hands not quite touching it, lofted high in an
acute angle, then shackled in iron. She was glad for the padding inside
each iron cuff for her wrists were barely healed from the hemp rope
she’d endured in the cabin. As she wondered why she was subjecting her
body yet again to the will of others (though at the same time humping
the post with her hungry pussy), she noticed that the post bulged out
slightly where her hips and private made contact.
“Oooh, I can rub myself quite easily,” Jackie said with a
naughty grin to Elaine.
“You’ll both make the posts quite wet there with your
spendings,” Beverly assured the girls, pinning up Elaine’s hands.
“Notice what it does to your bottom,” Elaine warned Jackie.
She was striving to remain still, though she longed to let herself go
and rub up against the post like Jackie was doing.
“Oooh, it shoves my bottom back and lifts it a little,” Jackie
declared. She looked back, watched the curve of her hips as she humped
the easily ridden bulge in the post. Her bulge had been crafted lower
down; helpful servants had adjusted the padding, rewrapping the post,
judging Jackie’s height with their eyes.
Elaine watched as Abigail knelt by her feet. She drew her feet
forward a little, so that they were out in front of Elaine’s body. The
pose forced Elaine to bear down with her naked pussy upon the hump in
the post. Abigail locked shackles around her ankles. Elaine’s legs,
drawn forward like this, were also spread about two feet apart, which
put her in a lewd squat-like pose. It made her heinie thrust back at
Master. She could do nothing now but await his depredations. She was
thankful for the high flat heels on her sneakers for otherwise she would
have had to stand on tiptoe to accomodate the pose Abigail required of
her. When Elaine’s legs were spread and both shackled at the ankle,
Abigail hurried to Jackie and did the same to her. Lady Beverly was
above kneeling to serve the girls.
“They are ready, Master,” Beverly said when Abigail had
finished. Both girls looked at each other, humped their posts, then
glanced back at Master as they heard him unzip himself and draw out his
cock. He picked up his belt. “Should they be gagged?” Lady Beverly
asked him.
“Only if I must be very severe,” he replied. “No one can
hear. But they might bite their tongues. Wait awhile. Let me test
their mettle and see what sort of response I get.”
“How many swats do we have to get?” Jackie asked with alarm.
The girl was busy humping her post, hoping to cum, and she’d forgotten,
perhaps, that pleasure wasn’t the only emotion Master intended for her
to feel.
“There is no limit,” Master replied. He gave the belt a
playful swish across the floor. “I will judge your emotional state,
your responsiveness. It is well that you hump the post so eagerly, for
it will be your only respite from the pain. Of course, it is quite lewd
for you to do it. So try not to, if you wish for me to judge you
ladylike and well-mannered.”
“Oooohh!” Elaine wailed. She loved the sound of his voice and
it made her hump her own post, which she’d already done a little of, but
had stopped when Beverly scared her with talk of a gag.
“Look how wanton they are,” Beverly laughed. “They look like
two little Indians out in the forest pleasuring themselves on trees.”
“They’ll both pee on those posts before I’m through with them,”
Master grinned. “The night is yet young, and I won’t be unchaining
them.”
“Oh, pleeeease, Master. Let us go now!” Jackie implored him.
“No my sweet. The time has come for your bumptious little ass
to get what it richly deserves,” he replied.
With a long, slow, uncoiling of his belt as it arched through
the air, Master struck Jackie. He chose her first because she was the
noisiest and always demanding attention. Now, suddenly, as she shouted
out how much the belt hurt and stood up on her toes, humping her post
for relief when the pain began to subside from that first awful stroke,
she had all the attention she needed. Beverly and Abigail laughed.
Master laughed.
“Ohhhhh, it hurts weally BADLY!” Jackie pouted when she’d
recovered herself and was merely humping the post.
“Of course, dear. It’s designed to produce emotion,” Lady
Beverly answered. “And look at Elaine, so tense. Loosen her up, Master
dear.”
“Yes, I will. She’ll hump her post like a hungry female
animal.” He let go the belt again and it went thwacking against
Elaine’s bottom. She howled out a scream, tried to squeeze her cheeks
against the pain, tried not to be too vocal but couldn’t help it.
“Oh, stop! It hurts!” Elaine begged.
“Only the first, my dear. Only the first. More to come. Pour
me a drink, Abigail.”
“Yessir!” Abigail said. She gave him a quick salute. The belt
frightened her. She knew there were worse things curled up in the big
drawer suspended under the tabletop.
The strokes were laid on, each one slow and deliberate, with
time inbetween for the girls to absorb each stinging blow.
“Look! They’re trying to climb the posts!” Lady Beverly
laughed. It was common enough. Girls, subjected to the whip, tried to
somehow scamper up the posts in hopes of saving themselves. It was
quite useless, for they were shackled, but they tried anyway. Elaine
and Jackie’s white bottomcheeks turned a pale pink and then a deeper
pink as the strokes were applied. When Master had burnished each bottom
into the color of the sky before sunrise, he switched to a more definite
impliment.
“Oh, no!” Elaine cried, straining her neck back. Master took a
riding crop from the drawer under the table. It was thick. He flexed
it a little with his strong arms and then, his penis exposed to her,
looking thick and turgid and dripping with pre-cum, he laid it in with a
quick, deliberate stroke against her bottom. He struck her under her
cheeks so that she was lifted up.
“A little help in climbing the post,” he laughed, but Elaine
howled for a female’s undercheeks are the most tender part of her
heinie. She did indeed struggle to climb the post. Then Jackie was
struck, and both of them went mad humping and trying to climb their
posts with their legs parted and open and shackled.
At dawn, with a knock from the maid on the door to let Master
know breakfast was served, both girls emerged from the tiled room. The
maid regarded them dourly. She was a women in her late 50’s, fat, too
wise and ugly to spend the night trying to climb some post with her feet
shackled to the floor. Master came after the girls, then Beverly,
finally Abigail, who closed up all the drawers and put everything away
as efficiently as she could, though the middle-aged maid would actually
clean the room.
Elaine and Jackie were drenched in tears. Great sobs tore from
their ribs, making their breasts bounce, their necks strain. Their
makeup was ruined from them rubbing their wet faces on their posts with
abandon, despite it being waterproof. Their legs trembled and their
curving hips shook with their sobs. Both of them were utterly nude,
except for sneakers, and they looked at the middle-aged maid with
frightened, remorseful eyes. They both clutched their bottoms
frantically, trying to protect themselves, to somehow assauge the pain.
Elaine’s nipples were stiff, with rings through them, and in looking at
the girl’s bare breasts, the maid, glancing at Jackie, saw that she
still needed rings.
The maid entered the tiled room. She saw there was no blood,
at least. Master had been gentler than he sometimes was. Perhaps he
loved these girls. She stooped, picked up a condom. Yes. He’d spared
them his seed. It came dripping out of the condom in great globs.
Perhaps he was saving them, would impregnate them later on, after
enjoying them more. She knew no girls stayed here on the Pill. All
must be in danger of surrendering their wombs, their lives as they knew
them, to Master. The maid tutted and turned, looked out the door. And
there, to her disgust and surprise, she saw both girls, standing on
tip-toe, still holding their bottoms, both leaning in to Master and
showering his face with kisses.
“Thank you, Master!” both girls said in high-pitched voices,
eagerly, almost desperately, lest he take them back into the room and
flog them again.
“Thank you for making us good!” the girls said. Master leaned
down, let them kiss his face. He patted the backs of their heads and
their manes of long hair where it fell down their backs. And then,
stepping back from them, amused, he said to Beverly, “Take them upstairs
and give them both herbal massages on their bottoms. I want them ready
for me when I should need them again, perhaps tonight, or tomorrow. I
must have breakfast now, and then I must drive into town.”
“Yes, dear,” Lady Beverly replied. And taking the girls by the
backs of their heads, she led them away down the hall. Both girls tried
to look back at Master, to bade him stay, but Beverly’s hands prevented
it, and they were both quite busy holding their bottoms.
30
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