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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Bush League  part 5 of 6  (NND)


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                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         BUSH LEAGUE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                         Chapter Five

         There was to be an orgy.  (There’s simply no politer way to put
it.)  Rose sat me down beforehand and pressed a riding crop into my
hand.  It was stout, not too long, or too short, with a loop of leather
at the business end of it.  
         “Use this to see that everyone keeps fucking,” Rose told me. 
Her eyes were sincere.  “No slackers.”  I turned the crop in my hands. 
It felt light, yet it would surely hurt if I whacked it against
someone’s bare hiney.  
         “No slackers,” I said aloud.
         “Not even the females,” Rose told me.  “Everyone is to keep
working at it, right through.  If not with one person, then with
another.  If the males lose their hardness, there is nothing to prevent
them from pleasing females with their mouths, their fingers, their
hands.  Of course they will all be young males so they should be up
again in no time, but don’t let them rest.  Keep them busy.”
         I swung the crop through the air.  It made a whistling sound. 
“And the girls?” I asked.
         “That is the biggest myth of all, that girls are dainty,” Rose
laughed.  “Keep them at it too.  Girls can spend and spend, and we’ll
have plenty of lubricant if their moist little pussies clam up.  Make
sure they are kept just as busy as the men.  If they don’t like one boy,
they can certainly have another.  There’ll be no shortage of young cocks
for them to milk.”
         I looked at her.  Lightly I touched the crop to her bare
shoulder.  We were in our bikinis.  “And you?” I asked her.
         “Don’t spare me either,” Rose said, and bowed her head a little
bashfully.  I stuck the loop of the crop against her bosom.  Lightly I
tried to pry her bra cup down to loose her breasts upon the quiet
sedateness of the parlor.  The cup was lightly woven.  I watched as her
nipples sprouted within them, pushing against the fabric and denting it.
         “It will be fun dominating you,” I told her frankly.  I touched
the tip of the crop to each of her risen nipples.
         “Not too hard,” Rose breathed.
         “No harder than you did me,” I answered, and intended to
include in my remark all those she’d let strike me at her castle.  Rose
brushed the insides of her thighs with her fingers.  I lowered the crop
and pointedly stuck it directly against her pussy.
         “Don’t,” Rose sighed.  Only her flimsy bikini panties kept me
from poking the crop into her.  
         “Those will come off soon,” I told her.  She looked up at me. 
I had pink ribbons in my hair.  My makeup was exquisite.  I’d spent all
day letting her beautician do my hair and my face for me.  Now the
beautician had left.  Rose and I looked like we were made-up for some
fine formal event, but we only wore our bikinis.  Plus earrings, and
spiked pumps.  
         Rose picked up one of the invitations and gave it to me.  I
looked at it.  Lace trimmed its edges.  On its outside, written on
satin, in cursive, as if for a wedding invitation, was “You are
Invited.”  I opened it.  The interior was satin too.  “To a Sex Party!”
was inscribed inside.  Had Chuck Rob received invitations like this when
he was governor of Virginia?  Did Bill and Hillary have such invitations
secreted away in their ‘family’ album, the part Chelsea was never
permitted to see?  I wondered.  
         “Drinks and Food will be Provided, as well as all Necessaries,”
the invitation went on to say.  “Attire is Casual, Preferably a Simple
Swimsuit.  Expect to Stay the Night.”
         I heard a car approaching within the castle’s sheltered
entryway.  “That should be the the first of them,” Rose said to me.
         I laid my invitation on the coffee table in front of the
couch.  “Alright,” I said.  I flicked my crop at her but didn’t hit
her.  “I expect you to be on your best behavior,” I told her.
         “I’ll try,” Rose answered.  Then, rising slightly to peer
through the parlor’s windows, whose shades were uncharacteristically
drawn back to let in the sunlight, she added, “Let me handle the
introductions.”
         Kelly heard our guests arrive and ran to fetch Louis and Andre
and Cheyenne and Polly.  Bambi was away, thankfully.  She would have
wound up taking my place as mistress if she’d been here.  I let out a
little breath of surprise as Louis walked into the room.  Polly was
between him and Andre.  She was happily leading them both.  They wore
small Speedo swimsuits and Polly had on a tiny bikini.  Like mine, her
bikini contained no elastic.  It had to be tied on to stay on, and as a
result she had twin bows tied along her hips, to keep her nothing
panties on, and another bow at her back to keep her bra on.  Her bra was
so light that it didn’t hold her at all, but merely covered her.  As a
result her boobies jiggled at her every slightest movement.  My bosoms
were no better contained.  Simply by breathing I put on a show.  My
nipples had risen.  I felt their points pressing stiffly into my bra.
         Louis and Andre walked with some embarrassment.  The thought of
an orgy had sent their cocks into the stratosphere in terms of
erection.  Their small swimsuits could barely contain them.  I feared
either of their cocks might pop out into public view at any moment.
         “Try to control yourselves, boys.  We have company coming,” I
said to my Louis, and to Andre.  I lifted the crop a little to hint that
I might whack them right across their members if they didn’t try to calm
their erections a little.  They sat down with Polly between them on a
couch.  Kelly appeared, her breasts prettily bare, wearing just an apron
and black thigh-high stockings.  Plus pumps, of course, and earrings,
and her little white maid’s hat, that matched her apron.  She offered
them drinks from a tray.  Then she offered me a drink in turn, showing
her bottom unselfconsciously to Louis and Andre as she bent to serve
me.  I sat on a couch near theirs, but angled so that she was showing
them her bottom as she showed me her breasts.  Taking my drink slowly, I
admired her young bosoms as they swayed like ripe fruit hanging from a
tree.  Her nipples were as hard as mine.  I brushed my riding crop over
their points.  Kelly shivered.
         “You must serve us, but you must participate too,” I told her
frankly.  She bit her lip.  I think she was a little scared of the crop,
or at least of me wielding it.  
         “Yes ma’am,” Kelly answered me.
         “Her bottom is too white,” Polly said aloud.  I think she
assumed she might get to play with the crop too, since we were friends. 
Kelly’s bottom was, of course, perfect.  Her legs were tanned right up
to where her panties usually were.  Then, since she in fact had no
panties on now, in the parlor, we could admire her bottom crack and her
smooth cheeks.
         “Polly, I’m in charge of the crop,” I told her, and dismissed
Kelly, who left the room, despite her misgivings, sashaying her bottom
just as lewdly as she could for Louis and Andre.  Cheyenne entered. 
Like myself and Polly and Rose, she wore only a teensy bikini.  She
walked to the couch where Louis and Andre sat.  She smoothed her palms
under her bottomcheeks, as if smoothing out her dress before she sat
down, perhaps thinking that she wore one, moving her hands by force of
habit.  Then, realizing she had no dress, she blushed a little and sat
down.  Selfconsciously she glanced at Louis, who sat beside her, and saw
that his groin was stuffed full with his excited erection.  Her blush
increased.  Then, summoning a little courage perhaps, knowing I held a
crop, she lightly plucked at the front of Louis’s nylon swimsuit with
her fingers.
         “You’ve got a wet spot on the front of your swimsuit,” Cheyenne
told Louis.  None of us had gone swimming this morning.  We were wet, if
we were wet, from our own juices alone.
         “How’s your bottom?” I asked Cheyenne.  She shifted her seat on
the couch, as if to check its condition.
         “All better,” she answered me shyly.  “And yours?”  She
remembered how Bambi had strapped me after I’d finished with her.
         “The same,” I answered.
         Rose ushered our guests into the room.  A young girl walked in,
with long flowing blonde hair that she’d decided to bind into twin
pigtails.  They were tied off with ribbons.  I wanted to jump up and
untie them, she had such lovely hair.  Yet, with her hair caught up into
two pigtails she looked like the perfect schoolgirl.  Thankfully she had
not braided them.  A simple tug on her ribbons would loose them soon
enough.  I would do it myself, if need be.  I felt an animalistic
instinct to see her utterly unfettered, with her bikini gone and her
hair flying loose, fucking her brains out with her boyfriend.  He wore
jeans and a t-shirt.  Perhaps he’d been uncertain about the dress code
and decided to play it safe.  His girlfriend, despite her neat pigtails,
had not been permitted a similar degree of modesty.  She wore a very
slinky swimsuit that seemed made out of silk.  It shimmered.  I guessed
he’d bought it for her especially for our party.  I wanted to tear it
off her.  It sounds awful, but I think Rose’s instinct for domination
had sunk into me during my long days here at the castle.
         “Silly boy, didn’t you know you were just supposed to wear a
swimsuit?” Rose asked our new male friend.  She reached for his waist
and frankly undid his belt buckle.  
         “I...wasn’t...sure,” the male responded, his girlfriend looking
on, a finger in her mouth, speculatively.  Rose undid his zipper as I
heard another car pull up.  She shucked down his pants and we saw that
he wore a Speedo swimsuit under his jeans.  
         “There, that’s better,” Rose smiled.  She helped the young man
kick off his jeans and then relished taking his shirt off him.  Kelly
appeared, neat in her maid’s clothes but shocking our guests with her
toplessness and her lack of panties.  She bent down, scooped the young
man’s clothes up off the rug, and left.  Rose guided the two of them
over to my couch and had them sit down beside me, putting the man
closest to me.  
         “You have a nice swimsuit,” I told him.  He was erect within
his suit and his manhood seemed about to burst through.  I laid my crop
over his groin and tapped his penis with three light strokes.  “Your
girlfriend must not empty you very often,” I said to him frankly.  I
heard her gasp.  She was young.  Her belly was so young and soft that
even though when she exhaled and it bulged a little, she still looked
quite slim.  I might have toyed with him more but new guests arrived,
and Rose brought them in as well.  I did, however, manage to ask his
name.  He was Phil, he told me, and his girlfriend was Dawn.
         Our newest arrivals were a woman in her twenties and her
newlywed husband.  They both wore swimsuits, although the man had put on
a t-shirt as well.  Rose relieved him of it at once.  The woman had
large breasts, big as Rose’s.  They shared glances, admiring each other
and ‘comparing notes,’ as one might say, on whose breasts were in fact
the largest.  It all happened silently.  Conveniently, we learned that
the woman and her husband were named John and Jill.  I knew in the melee
that would follow names might be lost, but I wanted at least to try to
memorize them.
         A third couple arrived.  A woman close to 30, Louis’s age, with
a man who might have been just a bit younger.  Here it was the woman who
had affected a bit of modesty.  She wore a dancer’s skirt over her
bikini panties, sheer but necessary in hotel lobbies and such places. 
Here, though, Rose quickly divested her of it.  They sat down on another
couch, and Rose sat down with them.  Their names were Bill and Gwen.
         “As you know, none of us will be going swimming,” Rose said. 
She looked around the room to assure herself that everyone understood. 
Kelly appeared and offered drinks to our newest arrivals.  From her
unclothed state one could readily see that this would be no ordinary
party.  “Please order as many drinks as you wish,” Rose told our
guests.  “If you need to feel drunk, don’t hesitate.  The drinks are on
the house.”  Bill and John and Phil all found their erections becoming
an ever greater embarrassment as little Kelly served them with her young
breasts hanging free.  Her bottom was a sight to behold.  She walked
like a little girl who’d just discovered its allure, swinging it
merrily, feeling its nakedness wobble and clench and jiggle.
         I watched as the men, taking their drinks, swallowed fitfully,
feeling their arousal seize them and make their drinking difficult.  The
women sipped nervously.  It was all out of their hands.  None had met
before.  Names were exchanged, but we all knew names were immaterial
here.  I guessed Gwen’s name might be fictitious, chosen just for this
occasion.  I thought of making up a name of my own but Rose introduced
me as “Fleury” before I could think one up.
         “She has a crop,” Jill, the newlywed, said to Rose, indicating
me.  “Are we to be punished?”
         “Only if you need it,” Rose replied.  “Fleury will make sure
all of us, including me, ‘party hearty,’ as they say.”
         “We will need...” Gwen paused.  Should she breach such a
subject so soon?  No matter.  It had to be done.  “Lubricant,
condoms...” she let her voice trail off.
         “I forgot my Pill,” Dawn, the youngest, piped up.
         “I told you not to mention that,” her boyfriend Phil scolded
her.
         “Well, I want you to father my child when I have a baby, not
somebody else,” Dawn answered.  She reminded me a little of Polly.  
         “I forgot mine too,” Polly piped up.  I knew she hadn’t.  She
just wanted to make trouble.  Rose had seen to all her needs this
morning.  Rose had made Polly put on a bikini when Polly had insisted,
inexplicably, that she must have a one-piece (though Polly usually swam
naked in Rose’s pool.)  I saw that Polly’s hands had crept to Louis and
Andre’s crotches and she was lightly massaging them, making their
erections even worse.  The men, of course, didn’t complain.
         Kelly appeared and offered Dawn a small powder-blue Pill.  Dawn
gazed at it a moment, then let Kelly pop it into her mouth.  Perhaps
Dawn hoped to preserve a bit of her modesty by pretending that she’d
been forced to swallow the pill.  Her boyfriend lifted his drink to her
lips and, shivering visibly, her bosoms quaking like jello in her bra
cups, Polly sipped the drink and swallowed the Pill.
         “As for lubricant and such, Dawn will provide those when the
party begins,” Rose said.  She brushed her hair back.  She liked to
wait.  The breeze blew in off the ocean beyond the cliff.  It was fresh,
with a tang of salt in it.  The morning sun lit up the parlor.  The
curtains were open, as if we had nothing to hide.  “Let’s begin with a
little background first.  Everyone should be aware of their partner’s
level of experience which, given we’ll all be partners before the night
is through, means we must all know about each other.  Is anyone a virgin
here?”  A few eyes stole to Polly, who blushed.  She was young, but
hardly a virgin, and she had her hands busy fondling Louis and Andre’s
swim trunks.  “Good,” Rose breathed after a moment.  Kelly appeared with
a tray full of crackers topped with exotic cheeses and meats and bits of
greens.  “Any anal virgins?”  
         Dawn blushed and, at her boyfriend’s insistence, lifting her
elbow, she raised her hand.  The other women, including myself, regarded
her with a kind of pleasant disdain.  Even Polly had a touch of hauteur
about her.  Dawn’s blush deepened.  
         “Don’t worry dear, there’s nothing to be shy about,” Rose
assured Dawn.  “We all were anal virgins once... even the men.”  This
caused a stir.  The men glanced at each other.  The women giggled.  Dawn
lost her blush and felt at ease.
         “Now let’s tell a favorite sexual experience,” Rose suggested. 
Eating our crackers, sipping wine, we went around the room, telling our
stories, our fears, our fantasies and our hopes.  All the while the sun
moved slowly within the room, altering the shadows it cast.  Other
guests passed quietly by, not interrupting us, but listening, perhaps,
for a moment or two, before pursuing their own private pleasures.  The
castle was mostly empty today, but a few lingered, Brent and his wife,
their two young daughters, Joanne, some others.  Sylvia was no longer
with us.  Her master had come at last and taken her away.  I missed
her.  I hoped she was happy with him.  She would bear his initials for
the rest of her life, the ones I’d given her, within her bottom cheeks. 
I remembered my pussy and the little tattoo I bore from my dinner party
with Lady Lalique.  I felt vastly experienced, yet I was only 14.  If I
went to a bar they wouldn’t let me drink, and no one would let me drive,
or vote, or anything really, yet here within Rose’s private world I held
the crop this morning, and I intended to use it.
         “Please don’t smack me with that unless I really need it,” Dawn
said quite seriously to me, leaning forward, her breasts full and firm
and held lightly by her nothing bra.  She had been speaking, in a
high-pitched voice, about how her greatest fear was that she’d wind up
in a bondage dungeon and be made to serve all the men in it.  
         “I’m sure you will,” I replied.  I whacked the crop against my
thigh and let out a little screech as I unintentionally hit myself to
hard!  She giggled a little.  Her boyfriend ran his fingers down her
spine, spiderlike, making her shiver.
         “I think we’re all ready now,” Rose said.  She’d wanted to feel
us out, get our inhibitions into the open and let them be released.  We
were all feeling much more comfortable now.  I did not mind when Phil
touched my thigh to soothe it and let his hand stray up to my pussy.  I
only knew his first name, but he quickly got to know the contours of my
most intimate place.  My private.  Dawn watched, let out a little moan
of disappointment.
         “Phil,” she whined.  He took my crop from my fingers and
whacked her thigh with it.  She yelped.  He gave the crop back to me and
touched her welt with his fingers.  Soon he’d forgotten her injury and
was exploring her pussy outside her swimsuit, even as he continued to
explore mine.  
         “Let’s go upstairs,” Rose suggested.  “Unless anyone would like
more to eat?”  We shook our heads ‘no.’  We’d had our fill of crackers
or, rather, our appetites were quite forgotten.  Even Polly did not beg
for another cracker.  She had stolen a finger within Louis’s and Andre’s
swimsuits, leaving the rest of her fingers outside, hoping nobody saw. 
Of course, Rose saw, and she said, “There are beds and such upstairs.”
         We stood up.  “Please take your things off.  I don’t want us
bringing any clothes into the Playroom.  No one ever has violated it in
that way, and I don’t wish us to either,” Rose said.  
         “But the windows are open,” Jill said.
         “So they are,” Rose replied.  “You’ll find yourself doing a few
things you’re not used to here, dear, which is why I’ve asked Fleury to
bring along a crop.”  Jill looked at me but said nothing.  In the
ensuing silence everyone saw to their own undressing.  I think Rose had
spiked the proceedings with a little fear and uncertainty again, which
I, at least, didn’t mind, since I had the crop.  The men pulled down
their swimtrunks.  I’m sure they were glad to be relieved of them. 
Their cocks sprang up like soldiers rising to stiff attention.  I
wondered if they’d be able to muster such fine erections a few hours
from now.  In the morning I was sure they’d find their swimsuits in the
parlor and pull them on wondering how they could ever have found them so
confining.  But for now, brimming with passion, they were eager as
beavers to be rid of the infernal little suits.  Their cocks glistened
with pre-cum and they wanted to stroke themselves to relieve their
passion a little but Rose forbid it.  They would have something to put
their penises into soon enough.  We girls untied our tops and bottoms. 
We couldn’t help looking at each other and comparing ourselves as our
tits and hineys and respective bushes came into view.  
         “Yours is nice and thick,” Dawn said to Gwen frankly, admiring
her thatch of pussy hair.
         “Thanks,” Gwen smiled.  It was silly, comparing bushes, but we
did it anyway.  Mine was fleecy.  Polly’s was fleecier still.  She would
have been hairless a year ago, too young to play with us.  Now she could
proudly show off some hair at least, enough to get her invited.  She
took hold of Louis and Andre’s cocks with a greedy gleam in her eyes.
         “Don’t play with yourselves, men!” Polly told my boyfriend and 
Andre.  But they hadn’t tried to.  She was simply pretending they had,
so she could hold their cocks “for safekeeping,” as she put it.  They
did not mind, although I was not especially fond of seeing her lead my
boyfriend around by the penis!
         “Time to play,” Rose said.  Her eyes were bright.  She ushered
us from the room.  I was the last to leave.  It was my job to keep an
eye on everyone’s bottom and make sure they did just as Rose said.  As I
left the parlor I turned to see Maria entering it.  How strange it
looked to see our swimsuits discarded like forgotten party souvenirs
upon the floor.  She began straightening the pillows on the couches. 
She picked up Gwen’s panties and laid them neatly on the couch.  
         I turned and gazed at the partiers.  Slowly they were trooping
up the long wooden staircase that led upstairs, Rose leading the way. 
Gwen, who worked as an attorney, followed behind her, her ass swinging
freely, leading Phil by the hand, for Rose had insisted as we left the
parlor that we each find a new friend to play with.  I walked holding
Dawn’s hand, for she seemed a little frightened.  I think she relied on
her Phil to tell her what to do and now he was gone, up ahead with a
woman older than he, while Bill walked along beside Jill, he and John
intending to fuck her together, and telling her so.
         “We’ll go up to the tower,” Rose said.  She led us through the
upstairs hallway to the very end of it.  There, having moved crossways
through the house, not toward the back, she opened a door.  We stepped
through it carefully.  There were newly woven spiderwebs inside the door
and the floor changed from polished wood to hard stone.  Our heels
clicked on the stone and echoed up within the tower.  The men, barefoot,
found the stone floor to be cold.  
         Rose led us up a broad circular stairway within the tower.  It
was wide, as if whole squads had once had to march up and down it to
defend the clifftop from invasion, changing shifts through the night and
into the day, never relenting in their service to their Queen.  I didn’t
know much Argentinean history, but I imagined that Queen Elizabeth, or
somebody, had once relied on her soldiers to defend this corner of the
British empire, lest all be lost.  And, I hoped, her soldiers had
performed as faithfully as the men amongst us now promised to perform. 
With wiggling cocks and quickened breathing they guided us up the stone
stairs behind Rose.  John slipped away from Jill and came back to close
the door to the tower and see that Dawn and I weren’t left behind.  I
gazed at his erection.
         “You’re certainly ready,” I laughed.  His cock was dripping
pre-cum.  He was as hard as the stone floor we were walking on.
         “May I have you first?” he asked, his voice gallant.
         “Alright,” I replied.  “But I must see to the others first. 
You’ll have to wait.”
         “I don’t mind,” he replied, admiring me.  I blushed.  Dawn
peeked around me at his erection as he walked opposite her, his hand on
my bottom.  
         “He has a nice one, don’t you think?” I asked her.
         “Yes,” she replied quietly, her lips seeming to catch the “yes”
even as she spoke it, as if she weren’t sure she should admit such a
thing.  Holding her hand, I squeezed it to reassure her.  “It’s okay,
you can look at men’s dicks here without the slightest embarrassment. 
Don’t deny yourself.  I intend to make sure that when they come back
downstairs they’re limp as wet washing, with every drop of their sperm
spent inside us.”
         “Oh, you’re naughty to say such a thing,” Dawn replied, but she
kept peeking past me at John’s cock.  He proudly displayed himself.  He
was cock of our walk, at least, with the other men no less boldly
displaying themselves to the girls in front of us.  We walked up the
steps without complaint.  I think, given how many there were, we might
have been huffing and puffing, under normal conditions.  But before we
knew it, watching each other and making our plans, we were at the top of
the tower.
         “Ohh, what a view!” Gwen said.  She rushed up to a window and
stood on tip-toe and looked out.  We stood within a huge room, with
couches at one end and two big beds at the other.  There could be no
doubt of our purpose here.  Between the couches stood a coffee table
with a vase on it.  Colored condoms sprouted from it, not flowers, while
a collection of squirt bottles sitting beside it, labelled ‘KY,’ waited
to be put to use.  Nevertheless, despite our ardor, we ran to the
windows and gazed at the sea and the countryside below.
         The windows were high and small.  Perhaps maidens had been
confined here once, and their captors feared they might jump, or let
down their hair.  No one could get through these little windows,
however.  We had to take turns and share the view as best we could.  The
shorter girls had to be lifted up by the men so they could see out.  We
were all buck naked, the men’s cocks hard, our pussies hungry, but we
took a moment to gaze down at the sights below.  
         “This is the last usable tower,” Rose said.  “The others are
propped up to keep them from falling over onto my house, but they’re
unsafe to play in.  Here, thanks to some refurbishment my uncle did
years ago, we can enjoy ourselves.  But first you men must try out the
bathroom,” Rose laughed.  To my surprise she led them over to a small
round hole into the wall of the tower.  It was waist high.  It let
daylight through.  A space had been carved from the wall so that a man
could stand within it and put his penis into the hole in the stone and
actually feel it make contact with the open air outside.  I guessed the
stone where the compartment had been cut was no more than half an inch
thick.  
         “The guards got tired of trudging up and down the steps to
pee,” Rose said.  “And men are not much for emptying chamberpots.  So
they cut this little place from the wall, and drilled a hole through it,
so a man could relieve himself without going downstairs.  Would you like
to try it, men?” she asked.  We all laughed as, one by one, each of the
men went up to the hole and stuck his penis through it and peed.  “Watch
out, the pigeons sometimes think they’re seeing a worm!” Rose warned. 
Phil, the first to try his luck with the hole, wanted to back out when
he heard Rose’s warning, but I was quick with my crop and whacked him
hard and made him stand and pee just as she’d suggested.  Each of the
other men were made to go in turn.  They seemed a little nervous, a few
of them, but the pigeons, if they did see the cocks, must have felt they
were too much of a mouthful to attempt.
         “I have to pee too,” Polly announced.  
         “You don’t have a penis,” I pointed out to her.
         “But I still have to go-ooo,” she replied, and clapped her
hands to her pussy to convince me she really had to.
         “As to that,” Rose said, lifting a finger and walking with
light steps to the nearest bed, “we have a chamber pot.”  She drew it
out and Polly went to it and happily sat down, though she wished we
wouldn’t all look at her as she did so.  We looked anyway.
         “Now I CAN’T pee,” Polly complained.  I touched my crop to her
back and let her know some pee better appear pretty soon or she’d find
herself bottom-up over the pot.  
         “I STILL can’t go,” Polly said.  
         “Then let me,” Gwen said.  Polly stood and I drew her aside for
punishment.  Gwen sat and peed despite all the eyes admiring her. 
“See?  It’s easy, dear,” Gwen told Polly.  Polly stood beside me,
watching, a finger in her mouth and my hand planted firmly on her
bottom, pressing the crop to it, to keep her still.
         “I must go too,” Jill said, and sat down next and contributed
her share to the pot.  Then Rose went, and finally Dawn.  The men
emptied the pot out a window afterwards.  Rose took a moist cloth from a
steamer and passed it around to all the females who’d gone and they
wiped themselves with it.  There was no running water up here in the
tower but, fortunately, a warmer with a bin of soft, hot wet cloths was
in a corner, run by a battery, and we could all resort to it to wipe up
when we felt the need.  If we ran out of cloths Kelly, who would have to
run up and down the stairs at intervals to get us whatever we needed,
would bring more.  At the moment Kelly, who would not be spared
participating in the party just like the rest of us, stood modestly to
one side.  She alone still wore her clothes as a sign of her service. 
They did nothing, of course, to keep her charms from falling into the
hands of the men.  Already John, who’d promised to wait for me, was
palming her bottom, making her squirm a little, although she tried very
hard to be modest and maid-like.
         We sat down on the couches.  At Rose’s insistence we picked up
the squirt bottles of KY and vaseline and began preparing each other for
the festivities.  The men were squirted first.  It was amazing to watch
as the girls aimed and squirted at their cocks, often from below,
getting the vaseline all over their balls and not worrying the least
about ruining the couch.  I laughed as Dawn and I both did John.  Kelly,
who I made stand in front of us, I did next.  I lifted up her apron and
frankly squirted vaseline all over her pussy.  Then I replaced her
apron.  “Go fetch a condom from the vase,” I told her.  She turned,
walked a few steps, and plucked out a condom.  She returned to me and I
told Dawn to put the condom on John.  He laughed as she tried to fit it
to him.  She admitted she’d never put a condom on a man before.  Her
boyfriend had always fucked her just as he was.
         “Well, we must at least attempt to be safe,” I told her.  I
helped her put the condom on, our breasts jiggling as we did it, the two
of us laughing.  Kelly stood watching.  
         “Alright, sir, you have three pussies and one dick,” I said to
John as soon as he was armed for battle.  “How do you propose to satisfy
us?”  I fingered my crop to let him know I would accept no excuses.
         “You mean, ah, you want me to, ah, bring you all off?  All
three of you?” John asked.  He glanced at his wife, sitting across from
him, but she was busily putting a condom on Louis.  Well, if she were
going to do my boyfriend, I was certainly going to do hers.  Polly, who
still needed to be punished for not peeing when she said she must, had
been turned around by Rose and was being fitted into a bondage glove. 
She stood with her legs quaking but unprotesting otherwise.  Gwen,
perhaps in collusion with Rose, had knelt in front of her and clasped
her thighs.  She was, very lightly, kissing Polly’s pussy.  Phil, Dawn’s
boyfriend, stood beside Gwen, his penis at the height of her head.  He
had just been fitted with a rubber and stood ready for battle.  
         Rose yanked back on the glove, tying it off to Polly’s arms. 
Polly winced and let out a little yelp.  The glove, hooked round her
shoulders by straps, lifted her bosoms obscenely.  She had high breasts
to begin with, but with the glove on they looked like twin offerings to
the God of Love, or War, as the case might be, given she must be
punished.  Her nipples, sweet and young and marvelously stiff, presented
themselves to Phil’s eyes like treats.  He lifted a hand and plucked at
them.  Polly whimpered and begged him to stop.  Rose knotted her glove
tightly closed so that Polly’s arms were bound straight behind her,
together, unable to move.  She was like a mummy now, with her bosoms
bobbing in front of her, utterly free and unprotected, and her little
pussy available for plunder by Gwen.  The older woman stabbed her tongue
into Polly’s pussy and my friend let out a whine of distress and
pleasure.  Oh, how I longed to play with her!  But I had John to
instruct.  He was randy as a stallion before a race.  I flicked his
rubberized cock with my crop and watched delightedly as it sprang up and
down like a flagpole.
         “Yes, all three of us, Johnnie-boy, with that big stiff cock of
yours,” I said.  “Turn around, Kelly, I want you to have him first. 
You’re going to have to do a lot of work tonight, serving us, and it’s
only fair you get yours now,” I told her.  She eyed my crop anxiously.
         “You’re not going to hit me with that if I turn around, are
you?” she asked.
         “Why not?” I replied.  “It’s mine.  I’m sure John will fuck you
even more zestily if he sees you cry a little first.  Show us your
bottom, Kelly.  You didn’t feel any embarrassment waggling it about
downstairs.”  I snapped my crop against her thigh to show her I meant
business.  Reluctantly she turned around and I found myself staring
directly into her clenching cheeks.  They were white and satiny and
unmarked.  “Bend over, silly.  Do you think I want you to moon me?” I
told her.  She leaned forward after a moment’s hesitation and put both
her hands on the coffee table.  
         “I- I think I’m going to fart, ma’am,” Kelly told me.  And she
did.  Just like that.  Right into my face.  “I’m sorry!” she quickly
apologized.  Dawn and I held our noses.
         “That wasn’t polite, Kelly,” I said.  I gave her a swift crack
of my crop right on my heinie.
         “Please, Fleury!” Kelly moaned.  She raised up on her toes.  A
bright red mark appeared on her bottom.  
         “Don’t stand with your legs so tightly together,” I told her. 
“How do you expect John to get his thing up you?  I expect you’ll be
tight enough as it is, without you clipping your legs together.”  I gave
her another swat with my crop.  She let out a sighing hiss through
clenched teeth and raised up on her tippie toes again.  When she’d
recovered she parted her legs as wide as she could.  
         “There, John, she’s all ready, oiled and everything,” I told
him.  He presented his cock to her.  
         “Don’t hit me,” he said.  His rump was in my face now, hairy
and wonderful with its crack running the length of it, tensing as he
began his entry.
         “Yes, John, to keep you going,” I replied.  “But get yourself
up her first.  Right up, John.  I know she’s tight, but you can manage
it.”  I gave him a little admonitory crack to encourage his compliance.  
         “Dawn, I want you to put that pretty little mouth of yours to
work,” I said to the girl beside me.  Despite her innocent-looking
pigtails I put a hand to the back of her head and arched my hips forward
on the couch and drew her mouth down to my pussy.  I thought she would
resist.  But, perhaps fearing my crop, she began lapping at my cunny
like a fawn bending to lap at a stream.  I shivered.  She was so soft,
so compliant.  I tickled her boobies.  They hung just off my thigh,
scraping the couch a little as she bent to her work.  I pinched them. 
Dawn sighed a moany complaint but did not stop licking me.  
         I inhaled the musky scent from Phil’s wonderful ass as he
sweated and got himself up inside Kelly.  “Okay, I’m ready,” he told me
at last.  Did he wish to be whipped?  I did not bother to ask.  I drew
my hand back and, admiring his clenching buttocks for a moment, I let
fly with the crop.
         “Yeeeow!” Phil howled.  Kelly bounced as his cock rammed even
deeper into her, driven by the whack from my crop.  She moaned loudly. 
I swung again.  
         “Ram her, baby!” I told Phil.  My own voice was breathy from
Kelly’s lickings.  Nonetheless, despite an increasingly unsteady hand as
my own orgasm mounted, I set about flaying Phil’s bottom.  Each stroke
made a new red mark.  He shunted himself up and back within Kelly.  She
screeched at the depth of his assault.  I think he was pounding her more
deeply than any man ever had.  She tried to rise to lessen the depth of
his poundings but he forced her down, then down more, until her face was
flat against the coffee table.  
         Polly, meanwhile, had been rigged up in the bed so that her
bottom rested on a bolster, while her arms lay tied uselessly underneath
her.  Her 13-year-old breasts offered themselves on her chest like ripe
cherries.  Her legs were drawn apart and tied off to the ends of the
bed.  Gwen, who had been mouthing her pussy, had been replaced by Jill. 
Polly seemed not the least interested in having women invade her cunny
with their tongues but she was helpless to do anything about it.  She
screamed and moaned and protested and, not coincidentally, cried out as
an orgasm seized her, followed closely behind by another.  Rose promised
her that after all the women had enjoyed her, the men would too.  Polly
sobbed but I knew that somewhere, deep down, she’d find she enjoyed it
all.  At least I hoped she would. 
         John spent inside Kelly.  I drew him out.  I removed his condom
as Kelly stood and straightened her apron and her maid’s hat.  I lifted
Dawn’s lips from my pussy and emptied John’s condom into her mouth. 
“There, little baby, a treat for your hungry tummy,” I told her.  She
wanted to protest, I think, but knew better and let me empty all of
John’s seed into her.  I made her swallow it.  There was a little that
had fallen on her nose and I kissed it away.
         “Kelly, now that you’ve been fucked you must go back to your
maid duties,” I told her. “Do them properly or I’ll have you over my
knee with my crop teaching you manners.”  She curtsied.  
         “Yes,m,” she replied.  Immediately she left my presence,
happily, I’m quite sure, walking a little awkwardly because of her
fucking by John.  I watched her bottom.  It jiggled nakedly, with two
stripes laid on it from my crop.  She got a tray of drinks, brought up
meantime by Maria, and offered them about.  Nobody seemed much
interested in them at the moment, although Rose took one and thanked her
and examined her bottom briefly, to see her new marks.
         “I see Fleury is doing just as I trained her,” Rose said. 
“Good.  And Maria is helping you too.  Keep up the good work, Kelly. 
I’ll make you domme someday, if I can ever get over seeing how cute you
look in that maid’s hat!”
         I put Dawn in place of Kelly over the coffee table.  I didn’t
bother to put a new condom on John.  He did it himself, growing
(literally) expectant at the sight of Dawn made ready for him.
         “Dawn, I’m going to give you just a little spanking to make you
weepy and to make John big and hard,” I told her.  
         “Okay,” she lisped.  She was so nice.  She let me do anything I
wanted.  She had an absolutely adorable bottom.  It was high and firm
and I knew it would bounce very sweetly when I laid the crop across it. 
It matched her schoolgirl pigtails perfectly.  I drew my crop back and
let it fly.
         “Oh!” Dawn shouted.  I don’t know if she’d ever been whipped
before.  I gave her another before she could try to clap her hands over
her bottom.  
“Oh!  Oh!” she cried out again.  I found myself so entranced by her
shocked response that I let three more swift cracks fly.  Then John,
who’d grown massively hard in just seconds of watching, got in my way,
and my next strike, aimed at Dawn, hit him instead!  He was oblivious to
the pain.
         And so it proceeded.  Rising up after hitting John very hard
several times, which did nothing to interrupt his fucking of Dawn, he
was so eager, I proceeded around the room.  I found my friends utterly
entranced with each other.  Their nude bodies hugged each other and the
females eagerly found themselves impaled upon their newly-met boyfriends
of the moment.  I dished out a crack here and there with my crop. 
Female bottoms felt me, and male ones, I hit a few tummies and whacked
some thighs.  Nobody seemed to notice, except to cry out and keep
fucking.  Even little Polly, when I bounced the crop off her tummy, only
howled and arched her pussy more so Phil, who now tongued her, could
fuck her more deeply.  
         The long hours of the day passed quickly by.  There was no
abatement of the fucking.  When cocks were spent I insisted, with Rose’s
help, that hands and mouths and even feet be used instead.  Drinks were
passed around by Kelly to keep everyone in a sprightly mood.  As evening
settled and the room grew dark Kelly lit oil lamps to give everyone just
enough light to see by, so they could tell whether it was the female
Dawn or Jill or Gwen, or some other female, who lay moaning underneath
them or riding atop them.
         As the night wore on and spirits flagged I used my crop to
inspire new emotion.  I did not spare anyone.  Even Rose found herself
upended on the bed, with her bottom high and her face pressed into the
pillows, with me flaying away on her to make her feel something,
anything, be it passion or pathos.
         What a sight we were the next morning when we shambled, like
walking wounded, into the parlor to retrieve our swimsuits.  Maria was
there, tidying up, and we came like dead from the morgue into her
presence.  All of us, even me, bore weals from the crop.  Our neatly
tanned limbs were marked and tired.  My breasts felt like leaden weights
on my chest, although still perched high and lovely.  I had hickeys on
them, as did most of the other girls.  There were pinch marks on my
bottom, not to mention the marks left by the crop.  My pussy felt like
it would complain just from being touched by my swimsuit.  I bent and
picked up my panties and tied them on with weary fingers.  The suit did
feel abrasive against me.  I wanted no more touchings, or fuckings, or
even kisses from heartfelt lovers.  The men were no better off.  Their
cocks, so hugely hard the morning before, could have passed for baby’s
penises now, or old men’s.  We’d made sure they were completely empty
before we let them come down.  Even Andre, who in his youth had made a
last minute stand for maleness, had been vigorously pumped off right at
the top of the steps, with us girls kneeling to receive the last of his
tribute.  
         Sperm slathered my thighs and was caked around my mouth.  The
men put on their suits and found that they fitted quite well, thank you,
with plenty of room in front, at least until nightfall.  Our guests
departed.  I think we wanted to give each other final kisses but we were
all too tired.  In my sleepiness I found Polly, who I’d spanked fiercely
upstairs, putting her hand into mine.
         “I’m sleepy,” she said.  She wanted me to accompany her
upstairs.  Other guests might encounter her and, not knowing her
condition, might try to rape her.  
         “You’re not mad at me for spanking you?” I asked her.  She felt
her bottom.  
         “It’s very sore,” Polly said to me.  “But I still hate you.”
         “You STILL hate me?” I asked.
         “Yes, I’m too little to be here but you made me come anyway,”
Polly said.  “So I hate you.  But tuck me in bed anyway.  And read me a
story too.”
         “I can’t read you a story.  I’m dead,” I said to her.  Despite
her sleepiness she drew her hand back and, although she’d not struck me
upstairs in the tower, always finding herself in the role of prisoner,
she whacked me hard on my bottom.
         “Yeeeoch!” I shouted.  I threw my hips forward and felt my
boobs shake.
         “Story!” Polly yelled.
         “Come on, I’ll throw you out the window if you do that again,”
I said to her.  I marched her upstairs and took her to her bed and put
her in it.  Drawing up the covers, I kissed her nose.  “Can I sleep with
you?” I asked.  “I’m too tired to go to my own room.”  My legs, okay a
moment before, felt as if they were about to buckle.
         “Mmmm, whatever,” Polly said.  She kissed me back.  I yanked
down her covers and slithered in beside her.  I was greedy for sleep.  I
embraced her, she was asleep already.  I fell asleep with my face on her
bosom.  Rose, I think, came in later, and drew our covers up.

30

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