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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: Summer of Sin part 9 of 9 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Nine
We went into a living room, John leading the way, Pauline
guiding me as I walked with cuffed hands in front of her. I still had a
feeling of being protected, despite her desire to see me flogged, for
her hands were very gentle in handling me. The two young men who’d met
us at the front door to their house stood in the living room. Their
loin cloths were gone. However, they still wore their ‘male chastity
pins,’ as I heard someone refer to them. Big, emerald-tipped tweezers,
one end stuck up into their pee hole while the other clamped the
underside of their cock’s head. It was hoped, at least, that by being
plugged up like that the two boys would not spend. I wondered, though,
if they got excited enough, if they couldn’t manage somehow to shoot out
their jism anyway. Already I could see pre-cum oozing out around the
emerald stuck at the end of each boys’ dick. The tweezers, I guessed,
were more a device of torture, perhaps to discipline the mind, than a
device that could keep all their sperm in them if they suffered an
orgasm. The pin in their penis was a way of telling them that they were
not permitted to cum.
One of the young men set down a large silver bucket. It was
packed with ice. Inside it was a smaller bucket. It had clear fluid in
it. Pauline leaned over one of the sofas in the living room. There
were lace doilies on the armrests of the sofas in the room. She picked
one up. She walked me over to the bucket. She dipped the doily in the
bucket. She drew it up, dripping with the clear fluid. She put it to
my face. I smelled wine. It was cold, from being in the bucket packed
with ice. Pauline rubbed it all over my face, cleaning it of the ice
cream she’d so rudely smooshed over my nose and eyes. Then she handed
the lace doily to the nearest boy slave. He took it, and left the room.
“I’m sorry,” Pauline said to me. She kissed my wine-wettened
cheek. I was thankful for her cleaning my face, but the rest of me she
left untouched. I was still messy all down my front. Food, syrup,
melted ice cream decorated the stiff stems of my nipples, the outswell
of my breasts. It ran down the flatness of my tummy to moisten me in
the inviting place between my legs. However, the rest of me was still
clean. Since Pauline had washed my face, it no longer had ice cream on
it. As for the hair on my head, it was decorated only with small bits
of food. They clung to loose strands, hanging down past my eyes, that
had been unfortunate enough to get caught in the corners of my mouth.
My smooth back and round little bottom had escaped entirely. It was a
strange sight; the front of me splattered while the back of me was
unblemished.
“I want a bath,” I said frankly to Pauline.
“Then you shall have it,” she replied.
“In the living room?” I asked.
“Yes,” Pauline said. A smirk of a smile lifted up the ends of
her lips. She kissed me. “You are so sweet,” she murmured. “You’re
good for practising having a baby, do you know that?” she asked me.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to be a baby.”
“Sit down on the couch,” Pauline said. I did, and at once she
scolded me. “Not like that,” she said. “Sit on the edge of the couch,
so that only the back of your bottom is resting on it. Sit with your
legs splayed, so we can all see your cunt. We’re going to have a bath,
just as you’ve requested.”
I complied. Pauline told Rebecca and Chrissy, who were messy
like me, though not as badly, to sit as I was sitting. The men also
were made to sit with their legs apart, showing us their equipment,
their butts perched on the ends of the couches where they sat.
“Steve, you must sit with Rebecca,” Pauline told Chrissy’s
husband. “Brad, you sit with Chrissy. I’ll handle Chloe. John,” she
said, looking up at her husband, who still towered over us, “You may do
as you please, for you are master of all of us.”
“Indeed I am,” John answered, his big penis hanging off the
front of him. He picked up a pair of black leather gloves off the
surface of a table holding a lamp. He drew them on. He flexed his
fingers, wearing them, and looked directly at me. “You have a nice
ass,” John told me. I swallowed hard. The slave boy who had left with
the soiled doily now returned with a coiled black leather whip in his
hands. He gave it to John.
“Kneel down, white boy,” John said. “I need an ass to practise
on.”
The boy was beautifully-formed. His skin was golden from being
naked on the island. His cock stuck out in front of him, competing in
size with that of John’s. He gulped.
“Don’t hit my balls,” the boy said. Then, with a quick glance
at us, he knelt down on the floor.
“Legs apart,” John told the boy.
“No!” I shouted. Pauline put a stiff finger over my lips.
“Shhhh,” she said. “He is paid well to be our slave. John
must have target practise on someone, if he is not to hurt you. He must
limber up, you know.”
“Ohhh, I’m frightened for him,” I said.
“It is not his first time,” Pauline told me.
“Oh, please don’t,” Rebecca murmured, in a soft, quiet voice,
watching from across the room.
“I want to see his ass glow,” Chrissy said. She grinned.
John raised his big whip. It had a very long tail. It had a
big handle, made of black ivory, that he gripped in his gloved right
hand.
“I must kiss him first! He is so brave!” I cried. Still
handcuffed, I leaped out of Pauline’s lap. I ran over to where the boy
was kneeling, in the center of the room. Oblivous to the danger of
John’s whip, which he now had lifted in preparation to strike, I dropped
to my knees. I knelt behind the boy. I gazed with wonder at his big
pair of balls between his legs. I leaned forward. I kissed them,
letting the hair growing on them tickle my nose. Then I kissed each of
the cheeks of his ass.
John reached down and grabbed one of my arms. He yanked me to
my feet.
“Get out of my way,” John growled. He pushed me aside. I
stumbled back toward Pauline, who stood up and caught me before I could
fall to the floor. She drew me back to the couch. We sat down again.
I was made to open my legs, so that my cunt could be seen by all.
TWAAACK! The whip struck. The boy howled. We all watched
with mesmerized eyes. I felt myself suddenly wishing to cry. Pauline
held me close, kissed me on my cheek.
“Don’t worry,” she said.
“But what if he hits his balls?” I gasped.
“He is not a novice,” Pauline answered. I didn’t know who she
spoke of; the boy? Her husband? I was too scared to ask.
The whip struck again. It made the boy gasp. He lurched
forward. Yet he did not try to rise. He remained kneeling, taking each
lash bravely.
“That is good,” John said, after striking the boy again.
“You!” he called to the other. “Kneel in his place. It is your turn.”
The one boy rose, the other knelt down. The boy who’d just
been whipped clutched the cheeks of his bottom. He massaged them
fiercely. He sniffled a little. But, thankfully, despite his scorched
bottom, I guessed that his balls had been spared. As for his penis, it
was as stiffly beautiful as ever. It stuck out in front of him like
some lewd ornament. The emerald was still poked in his pee hole.
We watched, fascinated and appaled, as the other slave boy
received a whipping from John. Each stroke of the awful whip caused the
boy to lurch forward on his knees. He cried a little. His dick swung
forward and back, like a pendulum, under the force of the blows.
When John was finished he told the boy to stand. He did. He
rubbed his ass, smarting at the hurt. John laughed.
“Get what we need for our bath,” John told the boys.
Obediently, the boys left the room. A minute later one of them
returned. He was carrying a tray. He brought it over to Pauline. On
the tray were several plastic teddy bears. Pauline picked up one of the
bears.
“Steve, do you know what this is?” Pauline asked Chrissy’s
husband.
“Sure,” Steve answered, sitting across from us on a couch with
Rebecca. “It’s a fucking teddy bear.”
“Very good,” Pauline smiled. “And where might you see a teddy
bear like this?”
Steve furrowed his brows.
“I dunno,” he said finally. “But I’ve seen them before.”
“I know!” I said suddenly. “You buy them at the grocery. They
come with honey in them. Clover honey!”
“Very good,” Pauline said to me. She unscrewed the cap off the
bear. She dipped him down into the bucket with the chilled wine in it.
She filled him with wine. There was a small folded towel on the tray
the boy had brought her and she used it to dry off the bear when she had
filled him with wine. Then, setting him back on the tray, she proceeded
to submerge each of the other bears in the wine, filling up each one.
She dried them all off when she was through.
I looked at the tray the boy had brought out. It now had a
half-dozen plastic bears on it, each of them filled with wine.
“Pass them out,” Pauline said to the boy. She took one of the
bears for herself. The boy walked round with the tray and made everyone
else in the room take one.
“Now, we are going to use these to bathe,” Pauline said.
“However, as you can see, our water supply,” she giggled. “I mean, our
wine supply, is limited. So only the most important parts can be washed
on everyone’s bodies. On the men, the penis. On the women, the tits
and,” she glanced at my open legs. “The cunt.” She looked up at John.
“Dear, would you please supervise us? If any of us disobeys, and starts
squirting his or her partner indiscriminitely, please order us to be
punished. Just like you punished the two boys.”
“Sure,” John said. He turned the teddy-bear bottle he was
holding upside down. He squirted his penis with it. “Ahh, that feels
good,” John said. In his other hand he still held his whip. “Do as my
wife says,” he told us. “Otherwise you’ll find yourself on your knees
in the middle of the room, with my whip to answer to.”
Pauline smiled. She took the honey bottle she held and aimed
it between my legs.
“Let’s get you cleaned up a little, hmmm?” Pauline asked me.
“Oh, not like that!” I gasped. I watched as her delicate
fingers squeezed the honey bottle. A shot of wine suddenly squirted out
of the bottle and hit me between my legs.
“Keep them apart!” Pauline warned me.
“Ohhh! The wine is so cold!” I gasped. It struck my cunt. I
wanted to squeeze my legs shut but I feared John’s whip. Pauline
grinned and squeezed her bottle again. Another spurt of wine fired into
my cunt.
“Eeeeek!” I heard Rebecca cry, across the room. Steve was
firing champagne up into her cunt. Chrissy, too, let out a screamy gasp
as Brad bathed her cunny with shots of cold wine.
“And now your nipples,” Pauline said to me. Deftly she raised
the bottle and, squeezing it anew, fired squirts of cold wine over my
cherry-tipped tits.
“Oh! I can’t stand it!” I pleaded. The wine was so cold! All
the rest of me she left untouched, just squirting my tits, and then down
between my legs again, where my cunny lay in soft withdrawn folds
between my legs.
“Yes, you must take the whole bottle,” Pauline smirked. She
kept squirting me. At last every drop of wine from the bottle she held
had been squirted over my tits or into my cunt.
“There,” Pauline said. “Now, girls and boys, it’s time to
switch.” She looked round at the others. But, as it turned out, there
was no need to instruct them. Already, they were taking turns anointing
each other’s privates with the wine. Steve would shoot a long squirt up
between Rebecca’s legs. Then, with her own bottle, she would squirt his
penis. Each couple, squirting the other, remained relentlessly focused
on the other’s sexiest parts. No wine was wasted on faces, or bellies,
or arms. All of it, every last ice-cold drop, was used to torment the
other where it would be felt most. On the nipples, and down between the
legs.
“Let’s use up all the wine,” Pauline suggested. She requested
keys for my handcuffs, pleased that I, like rest, had proven so obedient
to her wishes. A boy brought her keys for my cuffs and my wrists were
released. I wanted to dash around the room, grabbing a bear and
squirting everyone, but I did not. It seemed there was more fun to be
had in listening to Pauline, and doing as she asked.
We switched partners. The bears were refilled. I found myself
sharing a bear with Brad. I squirted his dick and then, giving him the
bear, he squirted my pussy. Others, both armed with bears, squirted
each other simultaneously. Rebecca got down on all fours and had
Chrissy squirt her between the cheeks of her ass. It was a tense, but
languid affair. We tortured each other for perhaps an hour that way,
all of us filled with lust, yet not hurrying, taking our time, savoring
what we could do to each other with just plastic bears, and cold wine.
“How pleasant,” Pauline said at last. She looked in the wine
bucket. It was empty. We’d used it all up, slowly squirting each
other. She grinned at us.
30
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