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From: Andrew Roller <andrewroller@sprintmail.com>
Subject: Party Pussies part 4 of 4 (NND)
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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PARTY PUSSIES
Chapter Four
We undressed. Petra unlocked our cell. We went back up the
steps to the surface of the earth. Alfonse went first, opening the
storm doors of the cellar for us. Daylight flooded the steps and,
climbing, we emerged into it.
I was nude. We had no clothes. I embraced myself, covering my
breasts. My pussy hairs tasted sunlight. I dipped one of my hands
down, covering them. I saw field hands out in the corn, spraying it, to
keep off the bugs. I felt the sun on my face. The morning breeze was
cool. It did not carry the scent of the spray with it that the field
hands were using, and I was grateful for that.
Feeling awkward, I moved with the group round the house, to its
front. We entered through the front door, much as we had the previous
evening, save we were all naked now, and spent. I wished to leave, knew
I could not. I was too sore. I needed too much to sleep.
We went upstairs. Petra sought me at the top of the stairs,
gave me a kiss. I did not resist. I was too tired.
“Do you wish to sleep with me?” she asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Alright,” she said. There was a note of disappointment on her
voice. “I’ll send in the maid to oil and rub your bottom,” she told me.
“Yes. Thank you,” I answered. It was the least she could do,
I thought, after cropping it so severely.
I walked into a bedroom. A bed was already unmade for me, the
covers drawn down to the foot of the bed. The sheets were fresh,
waiting. I flopped into it. I landed on my belly, on purpose. I dare
not lay on my back.
I felt someone flop into the bed beside me. I didn’t wish to
see who. I was too sleepy. I buried my face in the bed’s pillow. I
kept my eyes closed, seeking sleep, wishing for it to come, to take me
away, to keep me forever.
“Yeek!” A hand on my bottom. My head flew up. My mouth
gasped. My eyes opened.
“Relax, dear,” a female voice said. It sounded old,
middle-aged at least. It was the maid.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Sorry,” I apologized. I placed my face
into my pillow again. But I bit it, this time, knowing her touch would
hurt.
I felt a cold squirting. Cream. She was squirting cream on my
derriere. I shivered. Even that hurt, a little. Then her fingers. I
bit my pillow hard. Gently she began rubbing me. On my fanny, my
seat. I should have kept my panties on. I shouldn’t have run away from
home. Now I was lying here, in the home of a woman I didn’t know the
last name of, having to get my bare bottom rubbed down, to heal it from
a cropping she’d given me. I promised myself I’d go home as soon as I
wakened.
In the evening I woke. I saw it was growing dark. For a
moment I thought it was growing light, then I realized dusk was setting
in. For a moment I thought I had to dress for school, eat my breakfast,
catch the bus. Then, just as I realized the light was fading, not
growing, I sat up in my bed.
It wasn’t my bed. Just on loan, and as my bottomcheeks felt
the sheet underneath them I let out a shout.
Laughter, from another room.
Petra entered. She was carrying a small whip. She was nude,
otherwise, but her hair was done up, and decorated with barrettes and
small bows.
“Oh, sleepyhead, you’ve finally wakened,” she smiled.
“Yes,” I answered. I frowned. My bottom was still quite raw.
“Turn over. Let me see what I did to you,” Petra said.
“No,” I replied. But she walked right up to me, and put a hand
on my shoulder. Before I could resist, (did I wish to?) she rolled me
onto my tummy.
“Ummm, yes. What a nice little seat you have. And nicely
striped now.” She stroked it. I shivered under her touch. But I
managed not to cry out. My bottom was healing, slowly. It hadn’t been
hurt as much as I’d feared.
“Another few hours, a day at most, and it will be all white
again,” Petra assured me. Playfully, then, she brought her whip, which
had many thongs, down across my back. “There is still much of you that
might bear up well under punishment,” she told me.
“No,” I said. I turned my head. I wriggled, lying flat on the
bed. I felt my bosoms, and the hollow mound of my pussy, pressing into
the sheets. I liked, somehow, her promise of torment, but I didn’t want
it. I slid my hands down my thighs. I felt a desire to touch myself,
but kept my hands, chastely, on the outside of my flanks. “Just-- just
my bottom,” I said. “When it’s better.”
“Yes, when it’s better,” Petra answered. “How sweet your seat
is. You should go look at it in the mirror, really, before all my marks
fade.”
“Yes. I will,” I said. “I will.” I hoped she’d leave me.
She bent down, instead.
“Oh!” I cried. Her lips kissed my bare ass.
“You have such a lovely bottom,” she said.
“Thank you,” I replied.
She departed. With her whip lofted over her shoulder, the bare
thongs trailing down her nude back, she left me. I watched her bottom
as she departed. It wriggled salaciously, as nude as my own, as if she
knew my eyes would be watching it. At the door she turned. I hid my
eyes in my pillow, not wanting her to know I’d been watching her rump.
“Bye,” she said. But her voice was hopeful. I knew she wished
for me to join her soon, downstairs. Her fingers were itching to find
new ways to torture me.
The night deepened. I rose and bathed. I opened a window in
the bathroom, heard the night sounds. The owl was back. Had it found
prey the previous night? Was it out now, looking for more?
There were no clothes for me to wear. I searched a dresser,
found only men’s clothes. Perhaps Alfonse and Rico slept here, when
there were no guests. I shuddered. I was glad they hadn’t taken the
liberty of joining me in their bed, as I slumbered through the long
hours of the day.
Where had they slept? No matter. Perhaps it was downstairs,
on a couch. Someplace. It didn’t matter. I cared nothing for them.
But I had a bit of respect for them, for they were doomed to be
servants, all their lives, something I’d never have to be. I was free.
I had my beauty. My youth. I could play.
I brushed my hair. There was a small makeup kit in the
bathroom. Perhaps Varona had left it there for me. I did my eyes, put
on lipstick. I felt my hand shiver a little as I applied my lipstick.
Who would kiss these lips, tonight? Tom? Ginger? Petra? Bow? No,
not her. I at least would not stoop to playing her naughty games. Let
Bethany lick her snatch, if she wished. I was too grown up for that. I
knew better.
“Hi!” I heard a small voice say. I looked away from the
bathroom mirror. It was her. Little Bow, standing at the door to the
bathroom. As I turned her eyes flitted over my body. I saw longing in
her eyes, searching. She gazed at my bosoms jealously.
“A few more years,” I said to her. “A few more years and you
will have tits of your own.”
“But I want them NOW!” she said in a high, demanding voice.
“You’re too young,” I replied.
“I’m only 8,” she agreed, glumly.
“You should be playing paddycake, or playing with Barbi, and
Ken, not with whips and chains,” I told her.
“But I DO play with Barbi and Ken,” Bow replied. “And I want
tits, just like Barbi has. Big ones. Like yours.”
“Mine aren’t as big as Barbi’s,” I told her. Then I looked
down at them. They were... larger. Had they been growing, under all
the male attention I’d been getting? They did seem bigger.
Definitely. What would my mom say if, when I came home, none of my bras
fit me anymore?
“Can I lick your snatch?” Bow asked me. There was politeness
in her voice. I think she thought I’d say ‘yes.’
“No,” I answered. I drew close to her and touched her head.
Her hair was long, blonde. Almost down to her waist. “You should get
your hair cut. It’s summer. You’d be cooler, that way,” I told her.
But immediately I knew it was only jealousy that I felt. “No,” I added,
stroking my fingers through her hair. “Keep it that way. You’re
prettiest with it that way.”
Bow touched my belly. “You got fucked last night,” she said to
me. She looked up at my eyes. “Will you get pregnant now?”
I laughed. “I hope not!” I told her. I frowned, a little.
When had I last taken my pill? At Robin’s? Yes, I think so. I
certainly didn’t want to bear Tom’s child. We had only been...
playing. A quick fuck, nothing more. And I didn’t exactly have a
choice about it, with my knees hung up over the log, and my pussy
defenseless.
“Here,” Bow told me. She opened her hand. She’d been holding
something in it, I saw. A small blue pill. “Petra told me to tell you
to swallow this.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I said. It was a pill. To keep me from getting
pregnant. The night promised that, I suppose, although if I’d been
given a chance to leave, I would have left, instead. I preferred
Robin. Just Robin, and Bethany, I guess, since she was my friend.
Although I would have left her behind too if I could have.
I went to the sink. There was a glass in the cupboard. It had
paper over it, just like in a hotel. Verona was thoughtful. She knew
how to take care of her guests. Petra’s guests, actually. I removed
the paper from the glass. I filled it under the tap. I swallowed my
pill. I brushed back my hair. Was I ready? Ready for the night? I
had no clothes on. Perhaps I was ready, then, whether I wished to be or
not.
30
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