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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Passions Playpen part 13 of 14 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PASSION’S PLAYPEN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Thirteen
She was ‘on loan.’ She lay in the back seat of the limo across
Faisal’s lap. It befitted a slave to ride in the car this way, he told
her, and she must expect to do it whenever she was taken out of the
castle. She wore a long-sleeved crop top with an open collar. He had
selected a size too small for her, so that she’d had to struggle to get
the top zipped up in front over her breasts. A bra was out of the
question. There was simply no extra room for it. The top left her
belly bare and when he was not fingering her throat, he played in her
navel with his finger.
It felt odd to her to be clothed. She had spent the last
several days completely naked in the castle, except when Althea or Susie
had her tan herself by the pool, in which case she endured the sting of
putting panties on over her flayed bottom in order to keep up her tan.
Now her bottom was completely healed which meant, or so she was told,
that she must be whipped again. Always she must be in one state or the
other: healing, being cossetted and pampered and loved because of her
sacrifice, or the ordeal. It might last for days, Althea, who served as
her chaperone, explained. And whenever it ended Kate was sure to have a
sore bottom.
At one time the girls at the castle had been forbidden books,
or any intellectual pursuits. But in recent years all over Arabia the
restraints had begun to loosen. Men went abroad and found the
conversation of well-schooled females to be a delight. So now Kate,
instead of being intentionally confined to only the most feminine
activities, sewing or making paper decorations or simply passing the
time idly, chatting, were allowed to watch some television or even to
read Cosmopolitan magazine or read a few books. But to Kate the books
seemed an intrusion. They reminded her of homework back in college.
She had spent too many years at a private Catholic high school, doing
too much homework, and she found she preferred to just play childish
games with Debbi, who was quite enthusiastic about them. So they played
jacks together or made spirals with a plastic Spirograph on pastel
construction paper, or they drew a hopscotch square with colored chalk
out by the pool and danced through it, chanting girlish songs in
high-pitched sing-song voices.
Lying in the car, across Faisal’s lap, Kate teased at the
zipper of his trousers with her teeth. She tugged it down a little and
stuck her tongue in the opening she’d made. Just the tip fit and she
was afraid she might cut her tongue on the zipper but she stuck it in
anyhow, exploring. Boldly he unzipped her crop top and her breasts fell
out into his hands. Faisal had a reputation among the girls for being
rough and when he took hold of her breasts he squeezed them hard enough
to make her uncomfortable. But except for a little yelp that she was
unable to suppress she kept her tongue exploringly within his pants, a
good slave despite her suffering.
Faisal gave a jerk of his loins as she withdrew her tongue and
zipped his zipper down the rest of the way. At first she thought his
movement had been a command, ordering her to take him out, but when she
pried with her fingers into the fly of his pants she felt him try to
draw back, even though, thanks to his excitement, this was quite
impossible. In fact he grew toward her fingertips as she sent them in
to release him. She smiled to herself that she was making him
uncomfortable, even as he had done to her. They were going to a party
together, outside the castle, and he would be expected to enjoy
cocktails and get to know the other guests. He could not arrive with an
emission inside his pants. He had to hold himself. Nonetheless instead
of being the best sort of slave, and not undoing him or teasing him, she
reached into his pants and pinched at the large coiled snake of his
penis, so thick, that lounged (with increasing discomfort) there.
“It is enough,” he said. He reached down and pulled her hand
back but she arched her tongue out, naughtily, and stabbed at his
underpants, pressing her tongue hard to wet the cotton with her saliva.
“It is enough,” he said again. His voice was stern. He drew her head
back away from him and then zipped himself up. Like a spoiled child
denied candy, she turned so that her face glared up at his. She pouted
and gave him a look of complete feminine disapproval.
“You need a collar,” he replied, fingering her bare throat
again. If she’d had a collar on he could have pulled her head back more
firmly. Instead he’d had to get his fingers around her neck, pushing
past the lovely veil of her blonde mane which ran from her head down to
the middle of her back, cut just short enough so that its ends couldn’t
cover her breasts.
She was uncuffed, uncollared, wearing clothes. It felt so
strange. She was used to being bare, with steel cuffs firmly keeping
her hands behind her, except when she asked permission to play games
with Debbi. Even tanning by the pool she had been handcuffed. And at
mealtime Althea had fed her with a spoon. The food had been cut into
small portions so that a spoon could handle it, whatever it was. The
Sultan had taken great delight in seeing her fed like a baby, but with
her hands securely imprisoned behind her. She had been forbidden a bib,
so that when she spilled food, unused to being fed by another, it fell
onto her breasts and Althea had to lick it off. She’d had to be
especially careful sipping hot liquids. A mistake would have scalded
her bosoms. Althea, who sometimes seemed reckless in spoonfeeding her,
as if to cause some food to spill, was always careful when giving her
sips of hot liquid. She was grateful that Althea was so kind. Another
female might have felt jealous or mean and might have deliberately
scalded her breasts or her nipples, but Althea was very kind.
Nonetheless she obeyed all the directives of the Sultan and permitted
Kate only what he allowed. Kate was forced to go potty in a children’s
potty and then empty and clean it herself. She was made to wear
handcuffs at night, in her sleep. And if she used any indecent words
she was sure to receive a slap across her face. Despite their nudity at
the castle and the sensuality of their treatment, being fed and bathed
in handcuffs, and allowed whims, which were hastily fulfilled by Arab
servants, the girls were to speak decently. No swear words were
permitted and they could not speak of base things. Always, no matter
what they might be doing, they were to use only the words allowed in a
properly run schoolroom, calling shit “B/M” and piss “making water.”
Only on rare occasions, as on the first night when Althea had brought
Kate to satisfaction after her horsey ride, both of them disobeying the
castle’s rules, was Kate allowed to speak naughtily. The only other
time Kate might use bad words was during an ordeal, but only if the
Sultan chose to excuse them, after hearing them.
Now, though, looking up at Faisal, Kate chose to disobey.
“Were you afraid you’d cum?” she asked him. She stared at him
like a defiant, unruly child. Then when he met her gaze, she turned her
face away. She trembled a little as he put his hands to her naked
breasts. He traced the outline of her stiff nipples and bent them
slightly, as if testing them for some ordeal.
“You are a slut,” he said to her frankly. The men at the
castle were encouraged to use swear words whenever possible. They
routinely referred to the girls as sluts, or whores, however prettily
the girls might be dressed, however proper their manners. Their breasts
were spoken of crudely and their bottoms were described in terms
suitable only for animals. They did not possess a “derriere,” as the
girls were required to say, but “fat little asses.” Their breasts were
called “hooters” or some other insulting male term. Frequently they
were beckoned or dismissed with reference solely to their sex, their
names being omitted entirely, as in, “come here, cunt” or “take your
pussy to bed.”
Lying on Faisal’s lap, looking away from him at the coffee
table in front of them, Kate wondered if indeed he might be right. She
found herself luxuriating in the castle’s ways as she waited for her
bottom to heal. Only the Sultan could touch her, or Althea. Everyone
else was at her beck and call. She had earned her stripes, so to speak,
and the servants knew they must obey her in her requests, whether they
be for chocolate or her favorite flavor of yogurt or a snack of lobster,
fresh from the Arabian sea. The Sultan did not mind the expense,
apparently. Despite being reduced to mere cunnies the girls were
treated like princesses by the servants. Kate had never felt so loved,
despite being mistreated, and as she lay face up on Faisal’s lap, having
teased him to the point of losing control, she wondered if she indeed
was just a lazy slut. But as Faisal’s fingertips caressed her nipples,
threatening to hurt them at any moment, she felt she was not a slut.
She was a prisoner. She was captive to the men in her life, mere
strangers days before, now completely in control of her every movement.
Yet she felt a certain pride in her ability to handle captivity. She
was not oppressed by it. Another female might have been but she
accepted it with an equanimity that surprised even her. It was as if
she was testing herself, seeing what her limits were, and these men were
just convenient, helpful to her as she journeyed down a sexual path
toward some kind of fulillment as a woman. Kate arched her back and
forced her breasts more deeply into Faisal’s hands.
Instead of pinching her breasts he spoke to her. And as he
spoke he began toying with the idea of offering her her freedom. Of
course, she was not his to give away, she belonged to the sultan. But
at the present moment they were both out of the castle, travelling to a
party which promised to keep them for the night. She had no collar on
and no handcuffs restraining her. Her clothing was sexy but it was hot,
and she was an American, and might get away with being dressed this way,
provided she moved quickly and found someone to help her.
Yes, she could escape, maybe, for Faisal was careless in not
handcuffing her and collaring her and keeping her on a leash. But as he
spoke to her it became clear to her that he wanted her to feel free. He
wanted her as a companion at the party. He didn’t want her to arrive as
a slave, but to feel free like the other women at the party, and to
enjoy herself. He wanted to see her chit-chat freely with the other
women and share secrets with them and since they were all free, mostly
American wives or girlfriends of oil company executives, he wanted her
to feel free too. He had spent his whole life in a society where women
were captives and the idea of Kate being a free Western woman, but also
his companion, entranced him. So he offered her her freedom.
“What if I don’t want it?” Kate asked him. She stuck her
tongue out at him. “What if I am just a slut?”
“You are too young to be a slut,” Faisal said frankly. He
teased her nipples with his fingers, pressing harder on them. She
wiggled her breasts as if to free her nipples from his grasp but he held
them more tightly with his fingertips. “If you don’t want to be free,”
he said, “then you know what might happen.” He tugged at her nipples
and she knew to what he was referring. A girl who disobeyed at the
castle, especially by having sex with other girls when the men were not
watching, might well have her nipples cut off.
Kate ran her tongue over her lips. It was as if she were
contemplating something, building up to a decision. Then, with her
nipples still trapped in his fingers, she told him: “I don’t want to be
free. I want to be a slut and belong to the sultan.” She made sure he
knew that she didn’t want to belong to him.
Faisal sighed. “Then your nipples must certainly be peirced,”
he said. “As a sign of possession.” To illustrate the point he pinched
her nipples hard. She cried out. “Yes,” Faisal said, watching her
mouth open and gasp and her eyelashes flutter. “Pierced and then fitted
with small golden rings so that you may be lead about by your nipples,
with a leash attached to each. And within the crack of your bottom you
must be branded, with the Sultan’s brand, so that anyone who opens you
knows you belong to him. And your tongue must be pierced also, and a
ring put through it, so that you speak with a satisfying lisp, and can
be led around by your tongue if you should be unfortunate enough to lose
your nipples.” Kate had on low-slung, hip-hugger jeans, tight jeans
that she’d had to fight to get into, and as he spoke to her she played
with the laces of her front-laced jeans. “Do you wish to caress
yourself?” he asked her. “Are you a little masturbator who wants to
play with her pussy and make it wet?” He pinched her nipples again and
made her cry out more deeply. “Sit up!” he ordered. He yanked on her
breasts, surprising even her as he used her plump mounds to lift her
up. Quickly she put her hands to the seat and pushed on it. Between
the two of them, she was up in a moment, and forced to sit beside him.
He fluffed her hair, ignoring her glare, and made her sit next to him
like a proper young lady would, not sprawled across his lap like a
naughty child or a woman who was a slut.
They arrived at a row of townhouses and stopped in front of the
one where the Americans lived. The driver helped Kate out of the car.
Faisal got out and took her arm and led her up to the door of the
townhouse. Her crop top was zipped up again, her pants remained laced.
They knocked and were greeted by a young woman in a micromini. She had
long brown hair that she’d spun into loose curls. She was a few inches
taller than Kate. She wore a white blouse with a short leather vest
over it. From the waist up she looked respectably, if casually
dressed. But her skirt was a scandal. Althea had told Kate that the
party would be an enema party and, perhaps as a warning of what was
planned, the woman who greeted them had on a dress that was little more
than a decoration. When she turned around after saying ‘hello’ to them
and giving them both a smile, Kate saw that her skirt was high enough in
back to show the underside of her bottom. The woman wore white panties,
perhaps as a claim to purity, above long legs that were utterly bare.
As she walked away from them, back to the guests inside who’d already
arrived, she gave her bottom an exaggerated wiggle, as if to ensure that
attention would be paid to it. On her feet were little granny boots,
each with a big buckle. They accentuated the nakedness of her legs and
the visibility of her bottom.
Kate felt her bottomcheeks clench together. She’d never been
to an enema party. Althea had explained to her the importance of
flushing her colon, but she had not expected to do it in front of
strangers. As Kate walked into the townhouse, holding Faisal’s hand and
following their hostess, she felt an odd awareness of her bottom. Her
every step made it wiggle and as she felt her own bottom wiggling she
watched the sashaying ass of the hostess. Taking up their places amidst
the guests Kate and Faisal were introduced and they exchanged names with
the others and drinks were offered them. Kate took her drink
gratefully. It would help ease her apprehension at being “hot flushed,”
as Althea described it, in front of complete strangers.
The other guests were dressed casually, many of the women
wearing short skirts, although the hostess was dressed most
provactively. Seeing Kate in pants the hostess, when the conversation
permitted, made clear to her that everyone was to participate in the
shared enemas. “You have lovely pants on but they will have to come
off, I’m afraid,” the hostess said to Kate, then looked at Faisal to
make sure he understood also.
“We’re prepared to enjoy ourselves,” Faisal replied. Kate
squeezed his hand tightly. She sipped her drink and tried to look
nonplussed.
“Let’s begin then,” the hostess, who was named Amber, replied.
“Some of us have to be at work tomorrow.”
Kate glanced around the room and then let herself be drawn away
from Faisal. She gave him a quick kiss and then followed Amber and the
other females into another room. The men stayed behind. Amber
explained to Kate that the girls dressed up for their enemas, they
didn’t simply take off their clothes. She sized Kate up as the other
women began to strip naked. She handed Kate a small string of fabric.
“Here, put this on,” Amber said to Kate. Looking down at the
small handful of material, Kate couldn’t even tell what it might be.
“Get undressed and put it on,” Amber said more firmly. Then she pulled
down her miniskirt and her panties and began unlacing Kate’s jeans for
her, while leaving her miniskirt and panties coiled around her feet on
the floor.
Kate was undressed. Amber complimented her on her body. Then
she pulled off her vest and blouse and told Kate to get into her
lingerie. Kate opened her hand and looked at the frilled little string
again. As Amber left her, to get something from the closet, kicking her
panties and miniskirt off her feet as she went, Kate untangled the
string in her hand.
She still wore her heels. Amber kicked off her granny boots, favoring a
pair of stiletto heels instead, taking them from her clothes closet, she
reminded the women that they must all keep something on their feet.
“Just because you’re getting an enema doesn’t mean you can look less
than your best,” she told them. “Be sure to wear your heels.” She put
heels on her own feet, sitting down on a chair to do it, and then she
slipped on a baby doll nightie. It floated down to her midriff.
Otherwise she remained completely naked, except for her heels. But like
the miniskirt she’d worn, the babydoll had a special depraved allure to
it. It was cupless, leaving Amber’s breasts completely bare. Worse,
beneath her breasts, where the babydoll ran beneath them, there was a
strip of fur, showing off her tits above the fur as if they were exotic
objects. Indeed they looked so, big and plump and deliciously framed by
the babydoll, yet left completely uncovered, at anyone’s mercy. Below,
where the babydoll proved too short to cover Amber’s bellybutton, it
made her look like an elf, prancing about without need of clothes,
showing her pussy to everyone. When Amber turned around, her bare
bottom jiggling fetchingly, the babydoll wafted high above, uselessly.
It reminded Kate of being a little girl and outgrowing a favorite skirt.
Despite being barebottomed, Amber issued orders to the other
females with prim confidence. She told the girls to hurry and get into
their lingerie so they could all have their bottoms filled. She
reminded them that they would all be strapped, and that she herself
would be adjusting the flow and temperature of the enemas, and deciding
when a girl was full. And she told them that they shouldn’t mistake her
cute babydoll for a sign of weakness. She herself would spank at least
some of them, and the strap would be harsher for those who made her
wait.
As quickly as she could, Kate got into her lingerie. The
string proved to be twin loops that opened and fitted around her
breasts. It had spaghetti straps that ran up behind her neck. From the
crevice between her breasts the string, having framed her breasts
prettily, ran down her belly and between her legs. Despite being
frilled as it passed over her belly, when it slipped between her legs it
became a simple G-string, like a shoelace in appearance, and it
immediately got caught between her pussy lips, not covering them at all
but teasing her spot whenever she moved. The G-string continued up
between the cheeks of her ass and then met a slim thread that ran around
her hips, allowing it to be tied off. On the thread running around her
waist there was a ribbon attached at the back, and Kate, with the help
of another girl, tied the ribbon to the end of the G-string so that the
two, tied together, made a pretty bow. They had the added advantage of
keeping her costume on.
“There, now you’re properly dressed,” Amber said to Kate. She
sidled up to her and tugged on the frilled string that ran down Kate’s
belly. It was as if she were testing the costume, seeing how much
tension it could take before it ripped off.
“Careful,” Kate gasped. The thing was fragile and despite
being an inconsiderable item of clothing she still didn’t want to lose
it. Except for her earrings and nail polish, it was all she had.
“The string in your bottom can be easily moved aside for the
introduction of the tip of the nozzle,” Amber assured Kate, as if being
clothed in even such an insubstantial garment worried Kate that she
might not get her colon filled up. Kate nodded, tried to smile. She
was worried about letting this babydolled creature have at her. She
seemed naughty and bold, eager to see Kate made submissive in ways Kate
had never imagined.
“Come, girls,” Amber said impishly. She gave them a broad
smile and then led them from the undressing room. She moved her bottom
most salaciously as she walked. She tossed back her lovely mane of
brown hair, confident, despite the misgivings Amber herself felt and
that she knew some of the other females felt too.
“I dont’ need to get my bottom cleaned out,” a young girl,
perhaps the daughter of an executive, whispered to Kate. Glancing over
at her, for a moment Kate thought she was with Debbi. The girl had a
childish gaze on her face and her bottom jiggled nervously as she
walked. Like Amber, she had on a babydoll nightie, but it was in the
form of a sheer crop top that covered her bosoms and hung down almost to
her bellybutton. It was slit maliciously up the middle in front so that
it would fall completely open, unless a pink bow was tied between the
breasts to keep it together. The girl had tried to add a G-string panty
but Amber had refused to allow her to put it on.
“Shhhh, Daisy. Enemas can be fun,” an older woman behind the
girl said. Kate turned slightly and looked over her shoulder and saw a
woman in a teddy. She was taller than both of them, and had piled her
blazing red hair up on top of her head to show off the loveliness of her
face. She was slim and wore a teddy that hooked behind her neck, then
ran down over her breasts and narrowed to a vee small enough to fit
between her legs. The teddy sheathed her body, arching up to leave her
hips bare, but covering her tummy. There were two lace straps that
needed to be tied together between her breasts to hold up the cuplike
portion that stretched across them, but she had neglected to tie them.
As a result her breasts jiggled temptingly in the cupping lace fabric,
free of all constraint except for the natural stretch of the fabric that
held them aloft, thanks to the fact that she’d at least hooked the
halter top back around her neck. She tossed her head. Strands of her
hair that had escaped from her bun flew like streamers around her face.
She lifted her hands to tuck the strands back up and her bosoms rose
right out of the teddy. Kate turned her head away and felt a thrill run
down her spine, right to her bottomhole. The woman had a voluptuousness
to her that Kate found deeply impressive. Despite the fact that she’d
soon be on her knees pleading not to have another ounce of fluid pumped
into her, she walked with a delicate, classy grace, urging even Daisy,
quiveringly apprehensive in her little crop top without any panties on,
to accept her fate.
Kate had been told by Althea that enemas could be used for more
than just cleaning one out. The amount of fluid introduced to the
rectum could be more or less, depending... Althea had said, leaving
Kate’s mind to fill in the rest. She was certain that the woman behind
her would be tested to the full. She hoped she herself wouldn’t be.
And then she wondered if it might not be the other way around, with
herself and Daisy receiving the most fluid, while the woman behind them
only had a sporting amount, enough to pleasantly douche her. Perhaps
none of them would have anything other than a quick fill-up, followed by
a light strapping to make their bottoms glow. Kate wished she was a
little girl again, capable only of speculation about the fate of Care
Bears and Pound Puppies on the T.V., not which females would be tortured
with enemas and which would be only pleasantly filled.
“I can’t take too much,” Daisy exclaimed aloud, as the females
rejoined the males in the party room. In the girls’ absence the men had
taken up the task of preparing the room for their enemas. Amidst the
colorful pink and white and yellow balloons loomed several tall I.V.
poles. Each was equipped with several bulging bags of I.V. fluid. The
bags could be opened at the top. They were sealed now, and glancing
around the room Kate deduced, from the hot plate with an empty kettle on
it, to the bags of ice, that some bags had been filled with hot water
while others bore aloft a quart of freezing ice water. Still others
held liquor in them, Kate noticed, seeing several empty liquor bottles
scattered around the base of the I.V. poles.
“Ooooh, I’m too young for this!” Daisy blurted. She froze
before an I.V. pole, alternately fascinated by it and deathly fearful.
Kate, a virgin herself in the matter of enema parties, found herself
staring at the same I.V. pole. She was unable to take her eyes off it
even though she guessed it would be a source of unpleasant discomfort
for her.
Daisy reached out and clutched at Kate’s hand. Kate allowed
her to find solace in it. She squeezed Daisy’s hand in an attempt to
reassure her. Yet Kate herself had as many misgivings as Daisy, except
that she was a few years older and so not quite as breathlessly
excited. Despite her fears, Daisy’s nipples stood up hard like small
bullets, lifting the fabric of her crop top.
Wordlessly the woman who proved to be Daisy’s chaperone went up
to the girl’s uncle and took off his belt. Then she sliced it across
Daisy’s behind. The girl, still holding Kate’s hand, leapt up like a
fish caught by a fisherman’s line. She howled out a cry of pain and
dismay as a bright red line formed across her saucy young bottom.
Letting go Kate’s hand, she clapped her palms to her hiney. She danced
a little jig on the carpet, in front of the I.V. pole. The guests
laughed. They did not laugh at her, Kate thought, at least not
completely. For in dancing about in her flismy crop top her breasts
made a spectacular showing, bouncing two and fro like little tennis
balls. Her youth was a sight to behold, with her chubby cheeks and her
small spoilt mouth and her large blue eyes, fluttered over by long
lashes. Her hips were slim and her bottom rose high behind her, like a
trophy on display, that any man would die to get his penis into. Her
legs were long, despite her size, for she was slim and they were slimmer
still. When the pain of the belt had subsided she stood selfpityingly
before the pole. She kept her hands on her bottom, hoping vainly to
protect it from the party’s main event.
“Little girls should be seen and not heard,” the woman, whom
Kate later learned was named Ivy, said in an icy voice. She ran the
belt, which was the belt of Daisy’s uncle, as Kate later found out,
across her palm. She appeared to be contemplating giving Daisy another
stripe.
“Oh, I don’t WANNA do this,” Daisy said ruefully. She looked
at her aunt and the woman promptly took Daisy by her hair and turned her
around. She bent the girl over, so that her crop top became a scarf,
and her bosoms hung down like ripe apples, uncovered by the drooping
crop top. Daisy kept her hands firmly upon the twin halves of her
peach-ripe bottom. Ivy nodded to Kate and gave her an expectant look.
Realizing she might suffer if she didn’t obey, Kate took hold of both
Daisy’s hands. At first the girl thought Kate’s touch was meant to help
her in some way, for they had held hands earlier. But as Kate lifted up
Daisy’s hands to leave her bottom unprotected, the girl realized this
and let out a howl of protest. “Nooooo!” she cried and, waggling her
bottom desperately, tried to yank back her hands.
Too late! Her aunt swung in her uncle’s belt hard against her
bottom. Daisy bolted forward under the blow, as her toes rose up on the
carpet, lifting her legs even higher than her sliletto heels already
did. Knowing that everyone was watching, she gritted her teeth in an
effort to suppress the howl that erupted from her bosomy chest. She
shook her head, making her hair fly all about. At the same time, high
on her toes, she gyrated and shook her bottom.
“Now perhaps you’ll obey,” Ivy said matter-of-factly to Daisy.
“Stand up straight and show everyone your manners.” She lifted the
girl’s head upright and Kate let go of Daisy’s hands. The girl returned
her hands to her bottom and rubbed it briskly. Tears welled in her eyes
and ran down her cheeks.
“Take your hands off your bottom!” Ivy admonished. The girl
did as she was told but clapped them over her pussy instead. Ivy swung
in the belt with an expert grace and struck the girl’s small hands.
“Yeeeochch!” Daisy hollared. She lifted her hands up and flung
them about in the air as if they’d been scalded which, indeed, they had
been, by the coursing of the leather.
“You are 15, Daisy. You must not hide your pussy from your
uncle any more. You’ve grown a nice bush and you shouldn’t be ashamed
of it. Keep your hands at your sides so everyone can admire how pretty
you are. There, that’s better. Show me your pussy. Stick out your
hips. You don’t have anything there except your little thatch of hair.
Don’t be bashful. Keep your pussy properly offered. The men must see
it if this is to be your coming out party. Or, rather, the one you
would have had if I hadn’t caught you in the woodshed with the neighbor
boy.”
Daisy was forced to stand with her hips shoved out in front of
her. Ivy made her put on a smile. The girl was required to stand with
her legs apart so that her treasured cove between them could be viewed
even more easily. Her fingers figeted by her thighs as she stood,
looking very much like a doll, except one whose cheeks remained in
perpetual agitation from the strapping and the immenent prospect of
being filled.
Kate found herself drawn to Ivy. The woman had an experienced,
authoritarian air that Kate felt mesmerized by. At the same time, Ivy
spoke always in a delicate, high-pitched voice. Her body had a delicate
quality to it. Kate sensed that underneath the female bravado lurked a
small child begging to be loved.
Looking at Ivy admiringly, Kate found her interest returned.
Ivy sized up Kate like a trainer gazing at a prize horse. She strode
forward and, with a menacing snap of the belt by her thigh, she cupped
one of Kate’s breasts and gazed down at it. “You have lovely tits. May
I pinch them?” she asked. Surprised, unsure, Kate made no response.
The woman, finding no overt resistance, took one of Kate’s nipples
between her fingers. She smiled at Kate and then pinched it hard.
Kate swooned. The pinch hurt and yet, to be under the nailed
grip of this woman, in such a sensitive place, thrilled her. She let
out a whine and Ivy released her nipple, only to capture the other one
and give it a similar test.
Finding Kate compliant, and already owning Daisy, Ivy took
command of them both. “You must wet each other’s bottomholes to make
them ready for the enema nozzles,” she told them. “Down on your knees,
both of you. Now!” She struck the floor with Daisy’s uncle’s belt.
Both Daisy and Kate dropped to their knees like frightened puppies.
“What-?” Daisy asked, looking up from her kneeling, penitent
posture at Ivy.
“With your TONGUES!” Ivy shouted, her voice high and feminine
but nonetheless full of command. Daisy squeaked as Kate, realizing
naught else could be done to resist, lest they both suffer under the
belt, grabbed her. Kate toppled Daisy back onto her bottom on the
carpet and then shoved her down onto her back. She kissed the girl’s
face and then turned about and showed her her tail. Squatting down to
taste Daisy’s hole, while giving Daisy access to her own rump, she
shivered as Ivy swung the belt down. It landed playfully on Kate’s bare
haunches but she had no doubt it could be applied much more forcefully.
She eased apart Daisy’s tight virginal cheeks. The girl yelped as she
felt Kate’s breath invade the crevice between. Then Kate’s tongue
snaked out and licked at Daisy’s hole.
“Nooooo!” Daisy cried urgently. In answer Kate pressed her
bottom lower, simultaneously avoiding another slap of the belt as she
felt her bottom open and her cheeks pressed themselves down onto Daisy’s
cheeks, her hindquarters pressing against the girl’s face. Quite
involuntarily Daisy’s pug little nose found itself lodged between the
cheeks of Kate’s bottom.
“There, that’s it. Lick,” Ivy said approvingly. “Don’t be
shy, Daisy. I have a toothbrush and toothpaste for you after you’re
done. But you must lick eagerly, like the little untrained puppy you
are, or I’ll have you over my knee with your uncle delivering the
slaps!”
Kate guessed that Daisy must not have been spanked at all in
her life for the mere threat of a spanking sent the girl’s tongue
inquiring into Kate’s bottomhole. Kate giggled under the assault. She
found Daisy’s shit hole had a rather sweet taste to it and wondered how
much candy the girl had eaten in recent days. Dutifully Kate licked as
deep as she could, fucking the girl’s virgin ass with her tongue. For
her part Daisy found the chore of bottomfucking to be so unexpectedly
and riotously naughty that she felt a certain mischievious lust in doing
it. As she felt Kate jerk in response to her tongue stabs, she grew
more excited. She was actually doing what big girls did! Now she
didn’t have to content herself with secret meetings with the boy next
door, who always came way before she was satisfied. She felt Kate
finger her spot and bucked up her cheeks at her companion, in hopes of
inviting more. Kate obliged, teasing her clitty as she drilled her
tongue into Daisy’s backside. Daisy lost all her misgivings, her tummy
suddenly full of whorling pleasure, and rammed her little tongue up into
Kate as far as it would go. Then, in time with Kate, who snuffled
exploringly way down at the other end of her, she began to move her
tongue in and out like a penis.
“Delicious! Look, Amber! They are doing each other! And on
their first time, no less!” Ivy said, assuming, rightly, that Kate was
as new to the sport of double-bottomfucking as Daisy was.
The guests gathered around and cheered. All other preparations
for the enemizing of the other women was forgotten. Women who had
already bent down for the flushing of their bottoms stood up again to
watch Daisy and Kate. They stood with the I.V. lines already placed in
their bottoms, and trailing out of them like backwards leashes. With
happy eyes they watched as Kate and Diasy diddled each other’s spots
enthusiastically and plunged their tongues with girlish abandon into
each other’s chocolate cores.
Ivy had to break up the tableaux before the girls made each
other come. She wanted to keep them tempted an anxious, for satisfied
girls might run away from what was to happen next.
Their anuses wet and ready, Kate and Daisy stood. Ivy led them
over to a small coffee table, the two girls holding hands but avoiding
each other’s eyes, for they both felt guilty, despite being applauded by
the crowd. Carefully Kate and Daisy cleaned out their mouths. When
their tongues were sparkling clean again, having been lustily brushed
with toothbrushes by the guilt-ridden girls, they were taken by Ivy over
to the nearest I.V. pole. It was reserved especially for them. She
placed a hand on each girl’s fragile slim shoulders and pressed her down
to her knees on the floor. There was a pillow waiting for each girl’s
face on the floor and Ivy made them both bend over, placing their faces
in the pillows. At the same time she made them both reach behind
themselves and spread apart their bottoms for her.
“There, that’s the proper posture for a girl once she’s turned
15, and been found with a boy in the woodshed,” Ivy teased Daisy.
“Spread your cheeks as wide apart as you can, both of you. I’ve got to
get a pretty big nozzle into each of you!” Ivy laughed, but Kate knew
her words were just as true with the accompanying laugh as they might
have been without it. Each girl waited patiently, showing her hole to
Ivy, as the woman lubed up a nozzle for her. Then, applying a daub of
vaseline to each girl’s opening, Ivy shoved a nozzle rudely into her
butt.
“Oh!” Daisy shouted. She’d grown to like the soft feeling of
air caressing her bottomhole over the last several minutes. The nozzle
was solid and hard and intrusive. It forced her apart and Ivy stuck it
into her like a farmer sticking a little fat pig. Daisy squeezed her
cheeks, while simultaneously still holding them open, and tried to expel
the nozzle. But Ivy made sure it went in deep enough so as not to come
out. Then, admonishing Daisy to be good, lest she be handcuffed to the
I.V. pole, Ivy turned to Kate.
Kate waited with spread cheeks for the inevitable poke. She
held herself apart for Ivy. She felt a tremor run up her spine as Ivy
spread vaseline over her hole. Ivy’s thumb pushed a little inside to
further ease the way. Then, taking the well-lubed nozzle, she pushed it
with a no-nonsense jab into Kate’s bottom.
“Ohhh!” Kate blurted, though she’d resolved not to. It was
such a large feeling nozzle, she couldn’t help herself. It went in like
a penis, only it didn’t compress at all when she squeezed her cheeks
upon it. It wasn’t flesh, it was hard metal encased in a slim sheath of
latex. It had no give at all, and it couldn’t grow soft and withdraw,
no matter how much fluid it injected into Kate’s bottom. She felt
totally and completely dominated by it. With a large nozzle in her
backside, there was no choice about being submissive. She closed her
eyes and sighed and tried to relax as much as possible. It would all be
over in a few minutes, she assured herself.
But it wouldn’t be. That was the point of an enema party.
While a man, entering her backside, would inevitably shoot within
minutes, an enema could last as long as Ivy wished it to. Despite her
own lack of a penis she could fuck poor Kate all night, using the metal
tube and filling her with quarts of fluid, instead of the few ounces of
sperm a man carried in his testicles.
Kate heard Daisy sigh. She looked at the girl and watched as
Ivy released the I.V. line. A moment later, instead of being a
reasonably content girl, accomodating herself to the metal enema tube as
best she could, trying very hard to be good, Daisy let out a scream.
“EEEEEeeeekkk!” she cried as a gush of fluid, more than her
boyfriend had ever given her (albeit up the other route) rushed into her
bowels. “Oh, it’s hot! It’s hot! It’s hot! It’s hottttt!” Daisy
howled.
“It’s just an especially warm lukewarm,” Ivy smiled at Daisy.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, my dear. You’re far too precious for that.”
“Ohhhh! It’s too muchchch!” Daisy cried out, now feeling the
pressure of the fluid as it built rapidly within her.
“You must be bottom-trained,” Ivy told her. “What if a group
of admiring men want to fuck your saucy little ass? Are you going to
deny them? I hope not! You must learn to handle as much fluid as you
can in your heinie. I wouldn’t want you to deny pleasure to any man, or
to yourself, provided he’s handsome.”
After a bit, when Daisy was puffing her cheeks out and her eyes
looked like lanterns, Ivy shut off the flow. She ordered Daisy to
remain kneeling on the rug, with her face pressed to the pillow, while
she did the same for Kate. Amber appeared and, sensing that Daisy would
not obey, she drew the girl’s hands out in front of her and held them
tightly. The enema tube remained stuck up Daisy’s ass. Her bottom swam
with fluid all the way up to her tummy.
“And now for you, my darling Kate,” Ivy said to Kate. “How I
will love to strap you once I’ve filled you up! God, what a lovely
ass. You rival even Daisy, perhaps surpass her. How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” Kate answered. Her voice quavered as she spoke.
She held herself open to Ivy as Ivy wished. The enema tube was up her,
and Kate wanted to claw it out, but somehow, drawing in her breath in
deep breaths, she managed to remain submissive and relaxed.
That changed a moment later. Kate shouted as she felt a sudden
gush of hot water run into her ass. Her head shot up and she wanted
very much to stand up and yank the tube out of her and run away. Her
fingers clawed at her asscheeks, desperate to travel the final inch to
where the enema tube pierced her and pull it out. Somehow, holding her
breath and praying to God, she endured the onslaught of the fluid.
Halfway through her prayer she wondered if she should pray to Allah
instead, since she was in Arabia.
The fluid made her feel like she was a balloon. It flowed into
her without stopping, no matter how much she tightened herself. Every
second it became more difficult to clench herself as the fluid swelled
her insides. Soon she was gasping for relief. Then she was shouting,
begging. In answer Ivy bent and diddled at her spot with her fingers.
Kate found herself caught up in orgasm under the prying, searching
fingers, exploring her pussy, even as her butthole strained painfully at
the bursting point.
When Kate had been completely filled Ivy rose and shut off the
fluid. Kate gaped at Amber, begging with her eyes for mercy, for her
mouth was distended in a bloated rictus of surprise. Daisy looked
similarly discomfited. The uncle of Daisy, whose name Kate didn’t even
know, strolled over to her and sat himself down on the rug. He had
removed his pants and appeared to be waiting for an enema of his own.
In the meantime, seeing Kate’s mouth so conveniently open, he popped
himself into her.
Now Kate was plugged at both ends. Despite the enormous
feeling of fullness she felt as a result of the enema tube and its
fluid, Daisy’s uncle was another level up altogether. He had a huge
boner that resembled a sausage and he stuffed it into her open-mouthed
face like a butcher putting an apple into the mouth of a pig. Kate
found herself hardly able to breathe, his tool was so big and imposing.
Gradually, praying to both God and Allah, she tried to accomodate
herself to it. In the meantime he’d taken her hands from behind her and
strung them out in front of her, holding them himself, so that she was
completely captive to him.
Kate had never felt so thorougly feminine in her life. The
ordeal was agonizing, but there was a trembling pleasure to it. From
behind she was stuffed like a turkey, while in front she entertained a
penis big enough to give even Madonna a workout. Happily Daisy’s uncle
eased himself back and forth within her clutching mouth. Meanwhile, as
he pleasured himself, his wife took up his belt at Kate’s rear. With a
sudden flash of pain she felt his leather belt come sternly down across
her white buttocks.
“MMMMMmmmmFFFFF!” Kate howled. But the penis of Daisy’s uncle
in her mouth completely muffled her cry. She thought about biting him
but he was so unbearably big that he seemed to keep her jaw completely
open, just by being in her, and by pumping back and forth he kept her so
busy she could hardly gather her thoughts.
And, indeed, that was the way she was supposed to feel. She
was only to Receive, not to think, or even to have misgivings anymore.
She was to be Open, and to Receive. Beside her, still dressed in her
babydoll crop top, little Daisy learned the same lesson. She was able
to gurgle babyishly as she was held by Amber, for Amber had nothing
between her legs to put in her mouth. But in back Daisy was
butt-bustingly full, and she wept and sobbed and pitied herself as she
lay so completely at the mercy of others upon the rug.
Ceasing in strapping Kate’s behind, Ivy knelt behind Daisy and
played with her pussy. The girl gasped with pleasure. When she was
again right at the brink of orgasm, Ivy rose. She began hitting Daisy’s
bottom with the belt. Daisy broke into frenzied howls. Amber told her
to shush but Daisy, like a marooned kitty most displeased with its
situation, caught somehow out in the middle of a river or the ocean,
rebelled at the fluid and the splatting of the strap on her bottom.
Each swat made her uncomfortably aware of the fluid within her, fluid
she’d just begun to bear up under. Now she was tested anew, the enema
tube waggling in her butt, the tears springing from her eyes while the
fluid in her bottom was all stoppered up and had noplace to go.
“Yoooch! Youoch! YEEECH!” Daisy shouted as the strap struck
her again and again. Ivy, standing behind her, began to finger her own
pussy as she strapped Daisy. There was only a slim G-string running
between her cuntlips and she pushed this aside to get at her spot and
pleasure herself. Amber, meanwhile, catching both Daisy’s little hands
in one of her own, began playing with her own twat. She pushed her hips
forward and commanded Daisy to stick out her tongue and invade her pussy
for her. Daisy, though, was quite beside herself with emotion, and did
not even hear the order. So Amber pushed her hips forward farther
still. Daisy found herself with a faceful of muff and, despite being
quite unable to obey anyone anymore, even herself, her every breath
exhaled directly into Amber’s snug cunt. Amber opened herself with her
fingers so that she could better receive Daisy’s hot-breathed
exhalations.
Daisy’s uncle came in Kate’s mouth. Once minute he was sliding
in and out of her, like a big uncut Clausen pickle, and the next Kate
found herself being filled yet again, this time from the front, while
her rear still ballooned painfully with the enema fluid. As Ivy had
promised Daisy, her big uncle came in a load so massive and huge that
Kate thought for a moment, in her delerium, that he had somehow hooked
his penis up to one of the enema bags. His sperm flowed down her throat
and into her tummy. It spilled from her cheeks and ran onto the floor,
making a very wet spot. Kate bucked her chin back and forth in an
attempt to dislodge herself from him. She feared she’d drown. She
found herself praying to the star of Baywatch.
“My, such lovely doves,” Ivy declared. She gazed down at her
two pupils, both of them hard-pressed to the floor, shoving their
bottoms at her, hoping for relief, with an enema tube stuck up each of
them. Kate had fine-spun golden hair, all tousled now, lying in strands
all over the hairy thighs of her husband. His sperm was matted in her
hair where it fell past her chin. Next to her lay little Daisy, just a
highschool freshman, but big enough for adult games, now that Ivy had
found her out in the woodshed. Here she bore the true burden of
femininity, not the diddling fingers of a curious boy in her twat. Here
she knew the true meaning of the female sex, to be burrowed into and
filled, one day with child, to scream with pain as she gave birth to a
son or a daughter. Let the fetching little minx see what real sex was
all about. Perhaps it would settle her down at home. Perhaps she
wouldn’t feel so compelled to taunt the Arab men, prancing about
whenever she could in her little bikini, losing her wrap at the most
inopportune (or perhaps opporutune) moment, showing them her white
thighs and her belly and what sort of swimwear American girls were
permitted. Perhaps now she would cover her head when they went
shopping, instead of fighting Ivy about it and then using it as a flag
to wave to all the Arab workmen as they drove into town.
“That’s it, loves,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “Time to go
potty.” She pulled the anal tube from Daisy first, because she was the
youngest and smallest. It produced a small ‘pop’ as it was withdrawn.
Then, suddenly, Daisy released herself into a bowl that Ivy slid under
her. She gushed and gushed and gushed forth a warm brown-colored fluid
into the generously proportioned bowl. As Daisy went to the bathroom in
her bowl, Ivy moved to Kate. She might have urged Kate to hold the
enema fluid within herself, but she decided not to torment the girl any
longer. Slipping a bowl under Kate, a fine porcelain bowl with
paintings of Mohammad’s victories on it, she pulled the stopper-like
enema tube out of Kate.
“OHHHHH!” Kate gasped aloud, as beside her Daisy gave audible
thanks to her own relief. Daisy’s breath blew hotly between Amber’s
legs. Kate’s enveloped the still huge penis of Daisy’s uncle as it
began slowly to grow less tumescent. Her breath seemed to revive it.
Realizing, though, that she’d had enough, and actually quite satisfied
himself, Daisy’s uncle eased his prick slowly out of Kate’s mouth. He
let go of Kate’s hands and, animal-like, they flew between her legs to
her pussy. Kate rubbed herself fiercely as her buttcheeks spouted the
enema fluid into the waiting bowl. Beside her, Amber released Daisy.
She too was on the frenzied brink of orgasm and, uncaring that they
might be watched by others, she shoved her hands between her
well-rounded thighs and masturbated herself.
A flood of sighs escaped the girls as they dumped the last of
their rectual fluid into their bowl-shaped potties. They humped on the
floor like twin little whales, joyously bucking under the masturbating
vigor of their own fingers.
“My, how frisky they are!” Ivy chuckled. She gave each of them
a few playful swats on their behinds. The girls shouted each time the
belt met their tender cheeks, but offered no cessation of their
masturbating. They frigged themselves with abandon until both of them,
finally looking over at one another, collapsed into an embarrassed
stupor. Feebly they sought yet more orgams with their fingers, until at
last Ivy made them stand up.
The girls could barely unbend themselves, let alone rise from
the floor. Daisy’s uncle helped Kate and Amber helped Daisy. Ivy went
about preparing for the next enemization, this one to feature herself
and her husband at the end of a tube, or perhaps her and Amber, with her
husband playing doctor. It didn’t really matter, so long as she got her
turn at the pump. She wiggled her bottom freely, excited at the
prospect of her own agony and her own pleasure. The party was just
beginning and she looked forward to a long night of fill-ups, both real
and artificial, the more the better. She hoped to lure at least half
the men at the party to give her their due. The young single oilworkers
especially entranced her. There were three of them and as she glanced
over her shoulder, hanging new bags on the I.V. pole, she saw one of
them staring at her even as he plowed into the oldest daughter of one of
the contractors. She had just started coming to their little
get-togethers a month ago. Already she seemed an expert, receiving him
with graceful poise, despite being bent over and having just emptied
herself into one of the potty bowls. Now, where before he’d filled her
with enema fluid, the young oilworker was filling her with himself. Yet
he stared lustily at Ivy, dreaming of new conquests. That was one boy
who she would never reprove for wanting to have both the bone in his
mouth and the bone in the river. She would see that he got a real
workout. Never mind the untrained bottom of the contractor’s daughter,
however well-poised. She would show him what an experienced wife could
do!
“Ohhh, you’re naughty. You sucked uncle’s cock,” Daisy said to
Kate as the two girls stood up and faced each other, veterans of their
first bottom-war. Then, as if a treat had been dispensed that she’d
been denied, Daisy leaned forward. She clutched at Kate’s breasts for
balance, both of them still quite wobbly on their feet, especially
little Daisy. Then, urging Kate to open her mouth, she delicately
intruded her tongue and began cleaning her uncle’s sperm out of Kate’s
mouth.
“Mmmm, tastes just like when I was eight!” Daisy murmured.
Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise. She darted a glance at her husband but
he stared with sudden interest at a painting on the wall.
When Daisy had cleaned out Kate’s mouth, the two girls gave
each other an impulsive kiss. Then, holding hands, they traipsed off to
the bathroom. Ivy thought about putting them immediately to other men
but decided to let them take a little break if they wished. For all she
knew, they really did have to go to the bathroom. She crooked a finger
at her husband and bade him kneel down before her. He obliged. Only
when he was on his knees, happily having his dick fondled by Amber, did
he realize what was in store for him. His wife shoved the enema tube
right into his ass without lubing him. Amber yanked suddenly on his
dick.
“This is for molesting Daisy,” Ivy growled at him. He yelped
as a sudden flood of hot rum poured between the cheeks of his bottom.
Amber jerked on his tool as if she was trying to pull it off. She
pinched at his hanging balls. “How dare you teach Daisy to give you
blow jobs?” Ivy said to her husband. She wanted to yell at him, but she
didn’t want the other partiers to know what she’d found out, that her
husband had been getting blow-jobs from an eight-year-old.”
“I should have fucked her too, instead of letting the neighbor
boy steal her cherry,” Ivy’s husband replied in a pleading voice. He
hoped his wife would understand. After all, he’d raised the girl, and
he wasn’t her father. Yet she’d been fucked right under his nose, out
in his woodshed, by a boy who was a tramp. Her lovely virgin cherry
stolen away by a kid who’d once slashed his tires. But his wife didn’t
understand. She pumped more and more and more fluid into his ass, only
stopping at the last out of deference for his penis which, despite her
mistreatment, had grown as big and hard as a bone again. Amber had
turned to fondling it, so impressed was she by his tool, and Ivy felt
her outrage over Daisy replaced by jealousy toward Amber.
“He’s my husband,” she scowled at Amber. She was feeling very
needy and she wanted something between her legs, even if it was her own
husband.
“He may be your husband but possession is nine-tenths of the
law,” Amber chuckled at Ivy. In a rage Ivy kicked over the I.V. pole
and went dashing over to the oil worker. He had just expended himself
in the contractor’s daughter, but he was sufficiently young that when
she grabbed hold of his penis he was ready for her. Gallantly he laid
her down on the floor and drilled into her hungry cunt. He struck oil,
bringing forth a bathing flood of fluid within her. As he plumbed her
depths he felt his own need rising and gushed into her at last. Behind
them, next to an overturned I.V. pole, Daisy’s uncle gushed fluid from
his rear even as he spread Amber wide and mounted her and thrust into
her. She received him eagerly, loving him despite his messiness.
Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Kate and Daisy came to terms with
their bottoms. They stood with their backs to a big full-length mirror
and studied the strap marks that had been laid across them. Daisy was
more concerned than Kate, having never been belted before. She traced
the red swathy lines across her sweet white peach with her stub-nailed
fingers.
“My bottom hurts,” Daisy said ruefully.
“Mine does too,” Kate replied.
“It feels like a big hose was stuck up it and it won’t SHUT!”
Daisy said. She opened her cheeks and stared at her backside in the
mirror. To console her, Kate bent down and looked at her anus.
“It’s still nice and small,” Kate said.
“Well it feels open and I don’t want anything put up it ever
again!” Daisy declared. To tease her, Kate stabbed at her hineyhole
with her finger. Kate’s nails had grown long and she relished the idea
that she could prick Daisy’s bottom with her nails but that Daisy’s were
too short to retaliate. “Don’t!” Daisy said. She pulled her ass out of
Kate’s hands and clapped her palms to it to force the high lovely cheeks
as close together as possible.
“It’s only the first of many lessons,” Kate assured her.
“No it isn’t! I’m going home right now,” Daisy said. But she
made no move to dress herself or even to wrap a towel around herself.
Instead she stood staring at herself in the mirror, and eventually she
turned to face it and played with her nipples as she stared at herself.
“I’m a big girl now,” Daisy said to herself at last. She
sighed and her belly protruded and then quickly withdrew again, settling
into a pleasant little hollow under her ribs.
“You sound like a little baby,” Kate laughed. She’d moved to
the toilet and was sitting upon it, feeling a need to go even though she
didn’t have to. It was the nature of an enemizing, she guessed. You
felt like you had to poop even though you didn’t.
“Get up. I have to go potty too,” Daisy said, turning to Kate.
“Get on my lap, then, ‘cause I’m not getting up,” Kate replied.
Daisy marched herself over to Kate and seemed prepared to fight
her, like a sister. But then, since they weren’t sisters, but just
newfound friends, she settled onto Kate’s thighs. The girls kissed each
other as their plump breasts rubbed together. Furtively at first, and
then more openly, they reached for each other’s pussies as they
continued to kiss.
When Ivy came into the bathroom, she found both girls sitting
on the potty frigging each other.
“All these men about, and look at you two!” Ivy said
disapprovingly. Both girls looked up with scandalous eyes.
Immediately, in hopes of saving themselves, they began peeing into the
toilet. Daisy, however, was placed not quite between Kate’s thighs at
that moment, and she wet Kate’s thigh with her urine more than she
managed to go in the toilet.
“We were just sharing the potty,” Daisy blurted guiltily.
“I saw what you two were doing,” Ivy said. “And it’s hardly
admirable for you two young ladies to be hiding out in the bathroom
here, like children, when there are so many men to be satisfied.”
Daisy turned her face from Ivy back to Kate.
“I think we’re in trouble,” she said, and clutched at Kate,
grabbing her round the neck, as if Kate was her white knight and could
save her.
“I think we are too,” Kate breathed. But she felt a special
thrill at having offended Ivy, such a gorgoeous and talented woman. She
kissed Daisy and Daisy responded with guilty enthusiasm. She slipped
her hand back between Daisy’s pussy lips and waited for Ivy to pull them
apart from each other.
30
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statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 272 EMISSION
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