Message-ID: <1125eli$9706022235@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/1125>
Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail
X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Sins of the Flesh part 1 of 5 (NND)
---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SINS OF THE FLESH
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter One
Jackie was 15 and new to modelling. She’d just done her first
assignment and the photographer had been cute but she’d turned his
offers down afterward. Yet she yearned for a guy in her life, perhaps
even a man, and now she sat in her bikini in Elaine’s living room, the
two of them fresh from the pool, after an afternoon swim, resting from
their assignments that morning.
“I had to pose with a tiger,” Jackie said. “I thought he was
going to eat me!” Elaine laughed.
“A wild animal on your first day? My, my. It may portend
something, but I don’t know what. Maybe you’ll have a wild life.” She
sat down beside Jackie and opened a photo album. The room was cool.
The air conditioner was on but it was blazing hot outside. They sat on
the couch, drying in their wet little bikinis, their long hair slowly
turning from wet ropes to soft lanky strands.
“See? We had a party,” Elaine pointed to the pictures. Models
were dressed in skirts and gowns, photographers and agents and other men
wore suits. All was decorous, but Jackie was sitting with her hands
pressed tightly between her thighs, for she remembered what they’d
started talking about out by the pool. Until the pool cleaning man
showed up, forced them to retreat inside.
“But why?” Jackie asked, as the pictures of the decorous,
polite guests gave way to people undressing and, finally, pictures she
could hardly look at, of a woman naked and bound and gagged.
“It’s fun,” Elaine said.
“But what’s fun about it?” Jackie asked. Yet, despite the fact
that her small bikini swim briefs had dried, she knew why. There was a
wet spot, quite small, down between her legs, on her swimsuit, where her
cuntlips were inexplicably moistening. Her nipples stood up, poking
into her bra cups. That was why. Yet why did it excite her to see this
poor woman in the photos, and what the men were doing to her?
Elaine closed the photo album, put it back on the shelf by the
couch. Jackie watched her bottom. It swayed with her steps and Elaine
reached back and tugged the soft cottony fabric of the suit out of her
ass. It was a suit more for sunbathing than swimming. It frayed when
it became wet. Yet she’d gone swimming it in anyway, and now the fibers
of the suit began to tear as she pulled the suit out of her ass.
“Oh, darn!” Elaine said unhappily. She felt behind herself.
She could feel the too-gentle suit beginning to come apart in her
hands. “This was one of my party suits. I didn’t mean to wear it to
the pool!” she exclaimed. Jackie knew what she meant. Jackie had a
suit of black plastic she used to wear. It turned hot in the sun but
she liked it so much so wore it anyway. It hugged her hips and cupped
her breasts very sexily, she thought, lifting them up, the cups a little
too small for them. She’d got it at 13, against her mother’s wishes.
She’d worn it to the pool everyday. She’d always had to sit in the
shade, take special care of herself, in that suit. But it had made the
boys more enthusiastic, seeing her in it, knowing it might burn her if
it got too hot. And the other girls had been envious. They’d said she
looked like a little ‘domme.’ Jackie hadn’t known what that meant when
she’d first gotten the suit. But one day, as a boy she liked sat in the
shade with her, and kissed her, he’d told her. When night fell she
rewarded him by letting him have her. It had been her first time. He’d
been gentle, but firm, not wanting to let her get away, even when he was
about to enter her, was in her a little bit, and she protested, said
‘no.’ He’d made her accept him. She’d always respected him for that,
making her take what she wasn’t sure of, but wanted. They’ been lovers
after that, child lovers, until he found a new girl, a girl a year
younger than she. Then she hated him and pinned his photo to a dart
board she owned and threw darts at him. After that she’d met another
boy. And then, kissing him goodbye, she’d gone off to Italy to be a
model.
“Perhaps we’re too beautiful, I don’t know,” Elaine mused. She
peered out the window at the pool man cleaning the pool. He was
handsome, but she like being diffident. She preferred to be taken. He
might have stopped them from leaving, might have said something to
them. But he’d been shy, or preoccupied, or something. And so he was
out cleaning the pool and she was admiring him, but she knew she
wouldn’t go out again and give him a second chance.
She sat down next to Jackie on the couch again. Their bodies
were close, warm. She liked talking about sex and she was glad she’d
met Jackie. The girl smiled. “So what do you think? Do you think I
take my beauty too lightly? Do we both?” she asked Jackie.
“I don’t know,” Jackie said. She figeted on the couch. “Tell
me more about your parties. About, you know, why you like to play
bondage sometimes...” Jackie’s voice was soft, childish. She was
curious but afraid to ask, like the boy outdoors cleaning the pool.
“Well,” Elaine said. She placed a hand on Jackie’s knee and
stroked it. She ran her fingers up Jackie’s slim thigh. Jackie
giggled. She lay back and Elaine leaned back against the couch with her
and stroked her belly. It was soft, flat, like her own. They smiled at
each other.
“In bondage,” Elaine said. “It works this way. We’re all
models. We all love attention. So, what do you think is the best way
to get attention?” Jackie thought, tried ignoring Elaine’s finger
poking her belly.
“I don’t know.”
“Take off your clothes, silly.” Elaine said.
“Oh, yeah. I guess that would do it,” Jackie said. Elaine
traced a finger along the waistband of Jackie’s bikini bottoms. She
plucked at the suit, opening it a little, peered down into the soft
incurving of Jackie’s belly and the mound of hair that grew there.
“Don’t!” Jackie protested. But she kept her hands by her
sides, did nothing to interfere. Elaine quietly closed her suit again.
Jackie sighed. Elaine ran a finger across her tummy again.
“So, anyway, the victim gets undressed. At a party, you know.
With everyone watching her and probably, usually, with everyone helping
her out of her things. At least the other girls, you know.”
“Yes,” Jackie agreed. She tried not to laugh as Elaine tickled
her tummy, lost, laughed. Elaine withdrew her hand and replaced it on
her thigh.
“So anyway when the girl undresses, she’s not just naked,”
Elaine continued. “She’s excited. You know, sexually excited, no
matter how she feels about getting spanked, or whatever is going to
happen to her. Because the men are all handsome, and the females who
helped her undress are, of course, all beautiful like she is. But she’s
the only one who is naked. Her pussy is moist with her desire and her
nipples are standing up stiff. Like yours,” Elaine said. Jackie
laughed. “This excites you, doesn’t it?” Elaine asked.
“Yours are pointy too,” Jackie said to Elaine. The older girl
looked down at herself. Her breasts sported twin points that lifted the
cups of her bra slightly.
“So they are,” Elaine agreed. “But I’m the one who has to tell
this story, so I’m excused.”
“Welll, I’m the list’ner,” Jackie protested.
“Let’s never mind about our nipples, okay?” Elaine asked.
“Okay,” Jackie agreed. She tilted her head and let it fall
against Elaine’s narrow shoulder. The older girl lifted her hand,
cradled Jackie’s head, stroked her hair.
“So the girl is excited, and everyone’s watching her, admiring
her, because of course she’s very beautiful, or she wouldn’t have been a
model in the first place and she wouldn’t have been invited to take her
clothes off at the party,” Jackie continued. “Now if everyone was just
polite to her, do you think that would be any fun? I mean, it would,
some, but if everyone was just pleasing her and pleasuring her, that
would make her the boss, and everyone would feel like they were some
kind of servant.”
Jackie nodded, listening. She felt safe and warm with her head
cradled against Elaine’s small shoulder, the older girl’s hand stroking
her hair, despite the scary subject matter. She snuggled closer to
Elaine’s body and felt the heat of it, the warmth of the skin and its
supple satiny softness. She placed a hand over Elaine’s belly.
“Did you ever get pregnant at one of these parties?” Jackie
asked.
“No. Now listen. Don’t interrupt,” Elaine said. She
continued: “The girl, then, can’t just be master, not naked, with
everyone else clothed. That would be silly. So of course she has to be
the victim. We do stuff to her, stuff she doesn’t expect. Some of it
makes her happy, some of it makes her afraid, or it hurts. Though it
doesn’t harm her,” Elaine added quickly.
“Like waht?” Jackie asked. She felt almost childlike now. She
pressed her body closer to Elaine’s and waited for the woman to
continue. Elaine ran her hand down Jackie’s smooth belly and slipped a
finger into the front of her panties. Jackie didn’t protest, only
sighed. Elaine played her finger within the fleece of her mound.
“Well, they might pleasure her,” Elaine said. She pushed her
finger farther down into Jackie’s panties. She tickled the girl’s
snatch. Jackie laughed, but did nothing to resist, instead hugged the
woman more tightly. “And of course they do some painful things to her
too, to keep her on tenterhooks. To keep her uncertain about what’s
going to happen. It’s a mixture, you know?” Elaine reached across with
her other hand and pinched Jackie’s flat belly.
“Oooch! Yes,” Jackie said. Elained raised her hand and cupped
one of the girl’s breasts. She squeezed it, ran a finger exploringly
over the upraised dent of Jackie’s nipple.
“So you see, the girl is able to give herself, to others, she
has to! And the men, the women, they get the excitement of having her
at their disposal. They can do whatever they wish to her. They can
take license with her body in almost any way, provided it doesn’t harm
her. And she has to accept it, because often by now she’s tied, or
handcuffed, or perhaps blindfolded, or all three. And they can do as
they wish and there’s a great release in that, being able to handle
someone however you like. And for the girl, there’s a great sense of
excitement. And afterward, when it’s all over, even though she hurts a
little, she feels released too. Because she’s let down her guard,
completely, something so few of us ever get to do. And she’s done it
with other people, some of whom she doesn’t even know. She might never
see them again and they might never see her again, some of these people
(except on the cover of a magazine, we hope!) and yet they got to share
something, something very intimate and special. And so tomorrow she’ll
be sitting on an airplane, all dressed up, going someplace, worring
about tickets and timetables, and fending off the guy next to her, but
she knows that last night, or the previous day, she was all naked and
spread open and forced to give of herself.
“Or,” Elaine continued, “She got to partake. You know, be the
one doing things. Either way it’s fun, but if you’re the master you
have to think what you’re going to do next, and keep planning
everything, and worrying about your poor little slave. While, for the
slave, she can be utterly free, if she’s with a group she trusts or a
master she trusts. Her body is no longer her responsibility. She can
live, and breathe, and cry out, knowing they’ll be careful with her,
even as they’re hurting her, and she knows they’ll see she’s fed and
made up and washed and bathed too, all the things that are necessary.”
“Mmmmm!” Jackie said. And it was then that both of them
noticed that Elaine’s finger was in Jackie’s pants, in quite deep, and
Jackie was trying to hump herself on the stiff little digit. Her eyes
were closed and, gradually, she slowed the up and down movements, the
out and back movements, of her hips. She opened her eyes.
“Sorry,” Jackie blushed.
“It’s okay.” Elaine said. “Do you think you’d like to come to
our next party?”
“Who will I be?” Jackie asked.
“The victim. You’re new, that’s why,” Elaine said.
“I don’t know,” Jackie said.
“Good. That’s all I need to hear,” Elaine said. And she
leaned forward and kissed the girl on her forehead.
Elaine rose from the couch. She replaced the photo album on
the shelf. Other albums stood beside it, photos from her modelling
jobs, and photos of her as a little girl living with her family. But
she reached to the end of the shelf, where there was a Polaroid camera.
She walked back to Jackie, who sat shivering on the couch. She wasn’t
cold, despite the air conditioning, for it was a hot July summer
outside. She was anxious, wishing she might have enjoyed Elaine’s
finger just a little more.
“Stand up,” Elaine told the girl. With an ambivalent glance at
the camera, Jackie stood up. She put her hands to her panties and
straightened them. Elaine’s finger had put them slightly askew. “Stand
still,” Elaine warned. She lifted the camera to her face and aimed it.
She clicked the shutter.
For another girl, Elaine would have had her strip, to show the
club her assets. But Jackie was only 15 and so Elaine let her keep her
bikini on. She didn’t want to be accused of manufacturing child
pornography. But, also, Elaine had a more devious motive. She liked
Jackie a lot and she didn’t want the girl turned down from membership in
the club simply because of her age. She knew that if the men who had to
approve Jackie’s membership only got to see a photo of her in her little
swimming suit, they’d long to see her naked.
“Why did you do that?” Jackie asked Elaine. She gazed at the
photo as it slid out of the camera. Elaine tugged it out and flipped it
in the air to dry it and let it develop.
“Don’t you like your picture taken?” Elaine asked.
“I guess I do. Now that I’m a model I suppose I’ll have to get
used to it.”
“Yes, you will, silly!” Elaine said. She smiled at Jackie.
She walked over to the shelf and replaced the camera on it.
“I have to go back home at the end of the summer, you know,”
Jackie told Elaine. She lifted a finger to her mouth and speculated on
the fact. Back to school, back to her boyfriend (whom she didn’t really
like anymore).
“Well then let’s have some FUN in the meantime, okay?” Elaine
said. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your apartment and I’ll show you
how to do some fun things with that cake batter and icing you bought.”
The sweet girl, Elaine laughed to herself, had bought cake batter and
cookie dough so she could bake cookies and mail them to her boyfriend,
the boyfriend back home that she admitted she didn’t really like
anymore.
The girls spent the afternoon at Jackie’s baking up cakes and
cookies but, under Elaine’s tutelage, they were the oddest sorts of
cookies, cookies Jackie would be too embarrassed to ever send to her
boyfriend. They were in the shape of penises and sweet little female
snatches and breasts. The penises got bigger every time they baked a
new one until the girl’s had to admit they were cooking up fantasies,
not duplicates of the real thing. At last, the hour growing very late,
and both of them having modelling assignments the next morning, they
retreated to Jackie’s bed and devoured as many of the baked items as
they could. Laughingly, they fell asleep amidst the crumbs.
Jackie was approved for the club and, since sex was a
possibility (more distinct than she cared to admit), she got a physical
from a doctor. He was patient and kind and he didn’t ask any
embarrasing questions. He mailed a clean bill of health on her to the
club.
A week passed, and Jackie threw herself into her modelling and
tried not to think about her impending membership in the club. Elaine
visited her every day and they spent lots of time together by the pool,
improving their tans and baiting the pool cleaning guy, who never quite
got his act together and followed up properly on their invitations.
Then, as Friday evening approached, Elaine informed Jackie that she
shouldn’t make any plans for the weekend.
“I think that pool guy might ask me out!” Jackie gushed to
Elaine.
“Don’t accept, dear. You’ll be needed elsewhere,” Elaine
replied, quite formally, as they sat eating lunch at a small downtown
restaurant. Jackie gulped and said nothing.
On Friday at 6 p.m. Elaine picked up Jackie at her apartment.
Jackie asked Elaine if she’d like to bake cookies with her. Elaine
quietly removed a pair of oven mitts from Jackie’s hands and told her to
put them away. She remarked to herself how interesting it was that
Jackie, despite being all dressed to go, wearing her best discotheque
gear, was nonetheless stalling, trying to induce her to spend the night
baking cookies! And she knew Jackie would be upset if she wasn’t
actually forced to put the oven mitts away and come along. She was
delaying, a common female trait, especially among a ‘newbie,’ who was
afraid to admit to herself what excited her, what she wanted.
“Let’s go,” Elaine said, when Jackie returned from the
kitchen. Firmly she took the girl’s hand. “Leave your purse,” Elaine
added.
“But--!” Jackie protested. Quietly Elaine let go of Jackie’s
purse and lay it on a small table by the door. “But I have-- you know,
pills and my favorite lipstick and--”
Elaine put a finger to Jackie’s lips. “Shhhh. You’ll be well
provided for, dear. Don’t worry. Everyone at the club knows what a
young female needs. You might say we make a specialty of it. Now come
along.”
A cab was waiting. It picked the girls up outside Jackie’s
apartment. Jackie noticed the cab was unaccountably clean and well
kept. The back seat felt brand new and the car had a new car smell.
The driver was well groomed, a young man who wore a suit. He was
smoking when the girls came down the steps from Jackie’s apartment but
he immediately put the cigarette out, squashing it into the pavement.
He was standing beside the cab. Gallantly he opened the door for the
girls and helped them both in, then closed it.
“Where will the party be held?” Jackie asked.
Elaine figeted with her purse. “I’m afraid the club members
were so impressed by you that they decided to skip the party,” Elaine
said.
“What?” Jackie asked. Then she realized she’d spoken quite
loudly and she lowered her voice, lest the driver overhear. But of
course, even with her whispering, it wasn’t too hard for him to hear,
although he kept his eyes straight ahead on the road.
“We have a special place,” Elaine said. “For, you know, how
shall I put it? A place for retreats. To get away from the world
completely. Most newbies have to go to a party first, but the club
members liked your photo so much they approved you for a retreat on your
first visit.”
“So there won’t be a party?” Jackie asked. Elaine smiled at
her.
“It will be more of a celebration, dear. And you’ll be the
chief thing we’re celebrating. It will be all about you, although it is
a retreat, and other girls will be enjoying the place also.” She put a
hand on Jackie’s bare thigh. Jackie’s skirt was short and barely
covered her lap.
“Relax,” Elaine told her. “A little nervousness is okay, but
don’t let yourself get so nervous you spoil it.” She reached up and
quietly tugged on the hem of Jackie’s skirt, pulling it down a little,
as if to make the girl more modest. The gesture reassured Jackie.
After a ride of about 15 minutes the cab pulled up in front of
a large suburban home. It was in an expensive neighborhood. But it had
a small front yard, although Jackie could see tall trees in back, and
nestled in among the other expensive homes it looked no different from
the rest. Two girls and a boy were playing baseball out in the street
and they retreated to the sidewalk as the cab pulled up. The driver got
out, let the girls out, on the side of the cab facing the home they
intended to enter. Walking quickly, both girls tugging at the backs of
their short miniskirts as they walked, lest the children playing on the
curb see their panties, they approached the home and rang the bell and
were admitted inside.
Jackie found herself in a small foyer. It had a tiled floor
and her spiked heels that she liked to wear nightclubbing immediately
announced her presence as they clicked on the tiles. A woman emerged
from a side room. She was conservatively dressed, in a vest and blouse
and long, knee-length skirt. She looked about 30. Her hair was
elaborately piled atop her head. She smiled at Jackie and bussed her on
the cheek. Then, reaching to a table near the two of them, a small
table inside the door with a flowering plant sitting atop it, she picked
up a blindfold. Without asking permission of Jackie, still smiling at
her, she lifted the blindfold to Jackie’s face and wrapped it around her
eyes.
“What’s happening?” Jackie asked in a high, frantic surprised
little voice. But Elaine told her to hush and the woman took her hand
immediately after she’d blindfolded her and led her from the foyer
through the house. Jackie could hear Elaine walking beside her, the
woman on the other side of her, holding her hand. Although one of
Jackie’s hands was free, she didn’t lift it up and pry the blindfold
from her eyes. Instead she simply walked, quietly, though Elaine noted
that her limbs seemed to shiver a little, despite the warmth outdoors
and in the interior of the mildly cooled home.
“We have to undress you,” Jackie heard as she was made to stand
still in a room at the back of the house. Silently Jackie stood,
trembling, as both women removed every stitch of her clothing, unhooking
her bra, drawing down her panties, removing everything but her heels,
her earrings, and the blindfold. Then, since she was young and had
healthy legs, she was made to stand alone in the room for a long time.
Jackie called out once for the women but no one answered. When they
returned she had to go to the bathroom. Apparently the women had eaten
dinner in the meantime, for they remarked to each other about the
dessert, and Jackie could smell a hint of strawberries on their breath.
Jackie herself was much too nervous to have eaten anyting, and wondered,
in an idle self-critical sort of way, if it wasn’t just as well that
she’d been made to stand by herself in the room while the rest of the
club members ate.
Jackie was taken to another room. The women removed Jackie’s
blindfold and she saw, with a gasp, that they were both topless. Their
breasts swayed casually on their chests, full and ripe and
stiff-nippled, as if they’d had a rather exciting dinner. They were
still dressed as they’d been otherwise, Elaine in a short miniskirt, the
woman who’d blindfolded her in a knee-length skirt.
Jackie was naked and she put a hand to her pussy, as she had to
go the bathroom quite badly. She glanced around, hoping for someplace
to relieve herself. To her surprise she saw that she was in a minature
beauty salon. This was no ordinary home, where the woman of the house
had to make do with a vanity mirror. Here she could enjoy the comfort
of her own beautician’s chair, complete with a full-length mirror to
admire herself in as the beautician worked on her. Next to that was a
chair where the hair could be dried, the two chairs facing each other
slightly, as if one woman might chat with another while one had her hair
washed, the other dried, and then, the two switching places perhaps, the
first getting her hair dried while the second got her hair curled or
combed out or permed. The mirror, across from the chairs, boldly
reflected whatever might happen.
With a grateful sigh Jackie saw that there was a potty in the
room. But it was most peculiar. It was built into the floor, as one
sees in Japan. It had no bowl, no seat. It was just a porcelian trough
embedded into the floor. The floor was tiled around the potty. The
rest of the room was carpeted.
“Could I please go to the bathroom?” Jackie asked the two
women, glancing at the potty. They nodded. She was going to walk to it
by herself but they insisted on taking her by both her hands and leading
her to it. Then they made Jackie sit down on the potty. They eased her
down by holding her arms, forcing her to squat over it, for it was quite
impossible to sit on it in the conventional, American sense of the
word. Jackie felt quite demeaned and she prayed the big mirror that
stood built into the far wall was not a two-way mirror. For if it was
she had a resigned feeling that men might be watching her as she
performed such an embarrassing ritual.
She wasn’t allowed to wipe herself. The woman who’d
blindfolded her insisted on doing it. Oddly, just as the woman placed a
square of tissue paper underneath Jackie and wiped her, she introduced
herself, explaining that her name was Odette and she’d be helping Jackie
through the evening. Jackie blushed, smiled, glanced uncomfortably at
the pee-stained tissue that was withdrawn from between her legs. Just
then a third female entered the room, as if on cue, or because she’d
somehow been watching, and knew when to come in. She was topless also,
wearing bright-colored slacks, shoes, and a scarf in her hair, but
nothing else. Her bosoms were large and they bounced freely on her
chest as she walked. She seemed quite happy, utterly nonchalant about
her condition. She was given the soiled tissue from between Jackie’s
legs. She smiled, turned, left the room.
Elaine and Odette lifted Jackie from the toilet. They walked
her over to the beautician’s chair.
“You have bathed?” Odette asked Jackie as they walked.
“Um, yes. I always do before I go out!” Jackie replied,
startled.
“Good, then sit down. Don’t close your legs or cross them.
You may admire yourself in the mirror if you like.” Odette smiled at
her and turned her and sat Jackie down right in the chair, plopping her
bare bottom into it. Jackie felt the chair underneath her and it was
covered with a rich black covering of fur. Fortunately the room was
cool or she might have sweated into it, it was so soft and warm and
comfy. But it had an irritating way of pressing up into her bottomcrack
and tickling her hole and feeling all fuzzy, like very soft stems of
fresh grass, against her pussy. Jackie shifted her hips in the chair
but only felt more aroused, and she blushed a little, wishing she could
just rub and masturbate herself in the chair and make her snatch all wet
and leave a wet stain in the fur when she got up. Odette and Elaine
smiled at her predicament. They reminded her to keep her legs wide
apart.
“Admire the view,” Odette said wickedly. With a blush Jackie
realized she meant her pussy. For, staring at the mirror across from
her, Jackie saw that it reflected her snatch back at her, the pubic
mound and the soft delicate lips beneath. Jackie felt an impulsive need
to close her legs, but she obediently kept them apart, noticing that
there were black leather straps tied to the edges of the chair arms, in
front, perhaps to hold open the legs of disobedient girls.
“You are quite good,” Odette said. She leaned Jackie back, so
that her head rested upon the edge of a sink where her hair could be
washed. “Perhaps a little too good,” Odette added. Anxiously Jackie
crossed her arms over her breasts, feeling afraid, tense. Elaine
quietly took her arms and forced her to replace them on the arms of the
chair.
“Please don’t do that. I’d hate to have to cuff them so soon,”
Elaine told her. Jackie felt small in the big chair, which was built to
accomodate even the biggest ladies, her small little bottom sitting on
the comfortable but strangely uncomfortable fur. She was glad she
hadn’t crossed her legs. If they’d been tied off to the wide-spread
chair arms she would have felt like a turkey split wide for a
Thanksgiving stuffing!
Warm water flowed over Jackie’s brown hair and she began to
relax. The women squirted soap into her hair, and gently massaged it
with their fingers. Jackie had of course washed it before dressing to
come, but she enjoyed the attention and the chance to relax. Perhaps
this was all that would happen, she told herself, a nice hair washing
and a chance to be friends with some women. She tried not to think of
the other possibility, that men might be watching and glowering over
her, seeing directly into her snatch.
After Jackie’s hair had been washed, as she sat on the chair
where the dryer attachment was, on a smooth plastic-covered seat, her
pussy was washed and groomed. Jackie had trouble keeping her legs apart
for this. The women worked intrusively, scrubbing her snatch with their
fingers, first Elaine, then Odette. They seemed not to notice that they
gave a thorough scrubbing to Jackie’s clitoris. They worked over it
just as nonchalantly as her labial lips, but Jackie had to bite her lip
as they srubbed her clitty with their fingers, and she felt quite
embarrased because, despite the professionalism of both women, she
almost came. When she had been scrubbed all in and out of her pussy the
women patted her dry, including her spot, and she almost came against
the soft towel as they dried her there.
“Don’t keep getting the towel wet, dear,” Elaine scolded
Jackie.
“I-- can’t help it!” Jackie gasped. Elaine patted her spot and
rubbed it and massaged it. Jackie’s clit buzzed with a fury much
greater than its infintesimally small size. She longed to stuff
somthing into her snatch, or to close her legs, with her hand, or
Eliane’s towel, caught between them. But somehow she kept her legs
apart, although for a little while Odette had to hold one of her knees,
while eyeing the other lest it try to close with the other.
When Jackie had been dried with a towel Elaine took a hot blow
drier and briefly blew very warm air between Jackie’s legs. Jackie
swooned, loving the feeling. She almost cried out, begging Eliane to
shove the whole thing up her small little snatch, even if it hurt her.
But she remembered that men might be watching. She gripped the chair
arms and grimaced and cried only within her soul.
As Jackie sat trembling, her nipples hard and her cunny alart
and hungry, her pussy hairs were combed. The women admired the soft
brown hair that grew between Jackie’s legs as they worked, speaking
openly of how pretty her nest was. They discussed if Jackie’s pubic
hair should be trimmed. But both decided Jackie was still so young and
her mound so fleecy, her pubic hair having just come in within the last
few years, that it shouldn’t be altered or cut or shaved.
Jackie was returned to the chair with the black fur seat. She
snuggled her bottom into it again, feeling excited now, released in a
way, though she had not had an orgasm. But the need, the impulsive need
to have one, was now burning in her and it somehow released her mind and
let her accept herself and her place amongst these women and what might
happen to her. The teasing, the primping, it all made her feel so
delicious and wanted. She felt like a wonderful sexual creature and she
looked at herself in the mirror and though she blushed again, looking at
herself, she no longer felt so awful that her bush was reflected back to
her, or that men might be watching her. In fact, settling into the
chair, gazing at how her breasts stuck up from her chest and how her
belly seemed to quiver as it stretched flat between her bosom and her
hips, she arched her hips forward. She presented her cunny more
boldly. She opened her legs wider. Quietly she made a series of small
undulating movements, as if she might make love to herself in the
mirror, thrusting her hips at herself, except only a snatch stared back
at her, a wanting snatch, an unfulfilled snatch, that needed something
big and intrusive inside it to satisfy it, something neither she nor the
women possessed.
“My, how eager you are!” Odette laughed. “Sit still, dear.
There’s still your makeup to come.” Jackie blushed a deep red. She
hunched down into the chair, feeling silly. The women had to hook their
fingers under her arms and lift her up and make her sit up straight.
Quietly both women did her hair. It was curled and piled up
and arranged on top of her head, despite her utter nudity, as if she
were going to a grand European ball. Then they set to work on her
makeup. She didn’t really need any, her face was a model’s face,
beautiful, but they labored over her for an hour, plucking her eyebrows
a little, doing her lashes, her lipstick, and arduously painting each
and every one of her toenails.
“There! Done at last!” Odette said. They took her back to the
potty. They made her squat again, but this time after Jackie peed and
Odette wiped her she simply flushed the square of toilet paper away.
Jackie was put into a standing up position again. She wondered
why the other women didn’t have to pee. Then she remembered that, as
she was worked on in the beautician’s chairs, each of them had left the
room occasionally, one at a time, and she figured they must have visited
a normal potty, and that the one in the floor was provided perhaps for
amusement, to the men that might be watching, or to make the girl feel
awkward and unsettled and, in the end, as she squatted and unsquatted,
somehow very womanly, very natural, for the squatting position was the
oldest and best one for birthing a child. Jackie, although she felt a
little hungry now, was glad she hadn’t eaten. She would have felt
mortified if she’d had to squat over the Japanese potty and perform a
turd-plopping bowel movement into it.
“What part of the month are you in?” Odette asked her.
“Hmmm?” Jackie asked, recovering from her thoughts.
“Your period, silly. When is it?” Elaine asked. “I suppose I
should have asked you before.”
“Not-- not for another two weeks, at least,” Jackie answered.
“Good,” Odette said. She patted Jackie’s flat belly. “Nice
and fertile, then. You took a pill last when?”
“This-- this morning,” Jackie replied. “I take one every
morning.”
“Not any more,” Odette answered. “We have RU-486 here if you
need it. We’ll check up on you every morning, give you a little pee
test, see what the result is. If it’s positive, you’ll be given
RU-486.”
“How--” Jackie looked quickly at Elaine. “How long will I be
staying here?”
“Long enough,” Odette answered. She kissed Jackie’s cheek.
“Don’t think about time right now. Think about you, yourself.”
Elaine laughed. “Be Herself the Elf,” she said. She stroked
Jackie’s bare hip.
“Let’s get the cape,” Odette said. “And the cuffs.”
As Jackie watched, the women went to the counter where the
beauty supplies were kept. They returned carrying a pair of handcuffs
and a long, flowing red cape. Elaine spoke quietly to Jackie and drew
her hands behind her back.
“Be good,” Elaine had whispered. “And all will go well.”
Jackie didn’t know what to say. She felt butterflies in her tummy.
Elaine secured her wrists with the handcuffs. They were wristlets, in
fact, ones that could be worn separately on the wrists, or attached to
each other, restraining the arms. Elaine gave Jackie no chance to see
how they felt as wristlets. They were already linked to each other and
she buckled them both onto Jackie’s drawn-back hands. Jackie felt her
hands resting against the hump of her bare bottom and it felt strange,
being all naked, with her hands stuck behind her back and bouncing
nervously against her bottom. Yet there was more: the women next
attached a black collar around her thin neck. It looked very much like
a dog’s collar but the women put it on her, not a dog, and Jackie felt
them draw it tight so that she was well-collared by it, with no space
left for anything to slip between the collar and her slim neck. Yet she
could still swallow (she checked to make sure, swallowing some of her
saliva). And she could breathe, she noted with relief, drawing in a
breath that made her naked breasts rise and fall on her chest. She
wondered if men were still watching, and what might become of her if
they were.
Next the cape was attached. Jackie looked in the mirror and
thought she looked rather like Supergirl. But the cape was made of
satin and it shimmered and she thought it looked rather demure, rather
pretty, less heroic than Princess-like. But the women brought nothing
else for her to wear, as they would have for a real Princess. Instead
they adjusted the cape, letting it fall a little over the front of her
shoulders, covering them a bit, admiring how slim and small her
shoulders were, and how big her bosoms which remained uncovered and
free.
The cape didn’t cover Jackie’s bottom, but stopped instead at
her waist, and she rather wondered, as she felt it against her, whether
it was really anything other than a decoration, that in the end, rather
than clothing her, only accentuated her nudity. She figeted a little as
the women played with the cape and they told her to stand still, not to
‘be too eager,’ and Jackie wondered at that, for if she was eager for
anything it was to get some real clothes on in this rather chilly room.
“There. Perfect!” Elaine said, stepping in front of Jackie and
looking at her. “Let’s hope the men don’t make too much of a mess of
her.”
Before Jackie could ask what she meant, Odette took her hand
and, shushing her before she even spoke, drew her across the room,
walking quickly, and out the door of the room.
Jackie heard her heels clicking on the tiled hallway once
more. She had to hurry to keep up with Odette. The woman walked
rapidly, her nude breasts bouncing jauntily on her chest. Jackie
realized Elaine was not with them and she turned to look for her friend,
but saw only the hallway behind her.
“Come, let’s go!” Odette said to Jackie, rounding a corner and
pulling her along. There was a great polished wooden staircase before
them. Without minding how Jackie’s bottom might be shown off to anyone
who happened to see them, she led Jackie up the stairs. Jackie felt her
ass wiggling and wanted to turn around to check that no one saw her but
Odette was mounting the steps to fast. They came to the top of them and
Odette led her down a long hall, to the very end of it. She opened a
door and put Jackie into a room and quickly closed the door behind her.
Before Jackie realized it, she was alone, without Odette or Elaine to
guide her or help her. However, with a gasp she realized that there
were four men in the room. They had all been reading newspapers and
they put them down simultaneously, showing their faces, as they heard
the door close.
“Ah, Jackie,” a man said. He was quite polite, young, perhaps
mid-20’s, with a reserved air, yet a brooding eagerness underneath,
perhaps an eagerness to be mean to her. Jackie gulped and looked at the
faces of the other men. They were all, as Elaine had assured her they
would be, very handsome. In another place she might have called them
‘dreamboats’ and gushed to her friends about them. Standing here naked
before them, except for her little cape, however, she felt afraid. She
saw that the man who’d addressed her held a riding crop across his
knees. It was made of leather and it was long but rather thick, with a
big loop attached to the end of it. She wondered if perhaps he’d gone
riding but she knew that the house was too small to keep horses.
Jackie trembled. The men stared directly at her. She was too
afraid to speak and they said nothing, merely gazed at her, slouched in
their chairs, as if at the racetrack, in a big glassed-sitting room that
wealthy men sat in to watch the races from. Jackie wanted to burst into
tears and she was forced to bow her head, she was so frightened and
nervous, and bite her lower lip. Yet, as she stood meekly, with her
head bowed, and her hands locked behind her, she felt a burst of
feminine pride well up within her. They were staring at Her! Even
though she was only 15, just out of her freshman year in high school.
Each of the men was at least a decade older than her, each most
certainly already a college graduate, yet her body held their gaze. She
could sense a kind of quiet desperation in these men, hunky as they
were, as they stared at her little body. She was leggy and 5’ 5,” and
she knew she hadn’t been picked to be a model by the modelling agency
because she was unbeautiful. She felt herself thrusting her chest out a
little, to let them admire her boobs, like a mare at the racetrack might
do, perhaps, in front of the men who might bet on her. Jackie felt her
cunny moistening between her legs. She stood with them a little apart,
for Elaine, in showing her the pictures in the photo album, had warned
her that women at the parties always had to keep their legs a little
open, since normally, in the real world, girls were always closing their
thighs and denying the men a peek.
Here, men were not to be denied, they were to be served, Jackie
remembered. And so she nervously kept her legs just a little apart, to
permit the men to see within and between them. She hoped they didn’t
notice her cunny was getting wet. She arched her hips out to hope for a
little air to perhaps dry her moistening lips. The men took it as a
desire for affection.
“Come here, little one,” the man with the riding crop told
Jackie. Nervously she yanked her hips back. “Come here,” the man said
again. Jackie walked across the room to him. The floor was carpeted
and it muffled her footsteps. She was intensely aware of the public
display of her fleecy bush and she felt a desperate need for panties.
But she had none, could not even cover herself with her hands. The man
with the riding crop in his lap put out his hands and clapped them to
her hips. She wiggled them a little, nervously, and he made her stop.
Gravely he admired her tanned flesh, her brown limbs and the white parts
across her torso where her little bikini usually covered her; her waist,
her breasts.
“A damn fine bottom,” a man said behind Jackie. At once her
master, the man with the crop, turned her around. She felt her
bottomcheeks tense. She heard him breathe. She looked at the man who’d
complimented her ass and he now stared unabashedly at her pussy. Her
master, the man with the crop, lifted her cuffed hands up so that he
could better view her bottom.
“Perfect,” the man with the crop pronounced. She felt a hand
lightly brush her ass cheeks and she flinched and tried to draw them
more tightly together. “A true invitation.” He patted her ass as one
might pat a horse at the start of a race. “Jackie,” he said, not
turning her back around to face him. “Do you know why I have a riding
crop?”
“No,” Jackie breathed. She could barely get the word out. She
feared it was the wrong word to say in the presence of these men. They
seemed not to be men who tolerated such a word easily from a girl.
“Jackie, you are so sweet, so perfectly refined,” the man said
to her. She felt his breath on her bottom. Then she heard him lean
back again, into his chair, as if he couldn’t quite decide what to do,
how to handle her. She felt a sense of pride well up in her again at
his confusion. He cleared his throat. “But I must see you be a little
more emotional, Jackie,” the man said at last. “You are so tight and
tense. That’s why I have the crop.” He lifted it and Jackie almost
screamed when she suddenly felt it nudge her ass. He pressed it against
one of her clenched, beautifully bulging cheeks and then, perhaps to
threaten her with violation, or to let her know such a thing would
certainly happen to her before she was permitted to leave, he jammed it
between the cheeks of her ass.
Jackie bit her lip and wanted to cry out but didn’t. She felt
her breasts wobble on her chest. The crop intruded somehow between her
tightly-held cheeks, defying her to keep it out.
“See? You are so eager to deny me,” the man said to Jackie.
“But the world would be a sad place if all the girls were like you. You
must open up, Jackie,” he said. He withdrew the crop from between her
tight cheeks and rubbed it in a light stroking motion across her bare
fanny. “That’s why I have the crop,” he said simply.
At his last sentence Jackie impulsively drew her thighs
together. She felt the moistness between them and immediately she knew
she’d done the wrong thing but she kept them pressed together, perhaps
to defy the man, to test him.
“Have you been told not to close your legs?” he asked her
finally. Jackie felt her flat belly trembling and her nipples quivered,
all bare and hard and delicate. She wanted to open her legs but she
couldn’t, somehow, despite the yearning she felt deep between them, up
inside her.
“Yes,” she finally breathed.
“I thought so,” the man answered, stroking her ass with the
crop.
Jackie expected him to swat her, but he did nothing, seemingly
still mesmerized by her. She remembered the pool guy and how she and
Elaine had flirted with him but he’d failed to respond. And, suddenly,
though it was quite unsafe, she dared the man further, feeling a kind of
power over him. Biting her lip hard, almost making it bleed, she stuck
her ass back at him. In her mind a vision of herself sticking her
tongue out at a boy flashed past. Yes, it was the same, and the boy had
gotten all angry and frustrated, but she’d been sitting up in a tree and
though he tried to pitch rocks at her he’d been only 3, and she’d been
6, and the rocks weren’t thrown by him with enough force to hit her,
though he tried mightily.
Unfortunately the man behind her wasn’t 3-years-old. As his
fellows laughed at him, he grabbed the flesh of her ass with his hands.
“What? You insult me?” he asked quite seriously.
At once Jackie stood up straight again. “I’m sorry, I had a
cramp,” she said, knowing it was a lie, wondering if the man would fall
for it. She found herself in an imaginary room with Elaine, both of
them laughing, her telling a big wonderful story about how she’d walked
nude into a room with four men and mooned one of them.
“You are insolent,” the man said. His voice was low and grave
and he sounded truly insulted. His friends laughed harder. “Damn!” the
man swore. “15, and never have I seen younger, yet you insult me like
no woman would ever dare!”
“Maybe she thinks you needed to have a fart in your face to
improve your looks,” one of the men guffawed. And then Jackie felt
sorry for him, despite the fact that he was holding her hips and had a
riding crop pressed up against her leg, wedged between his big hand and
her hips, for he was the handsomest of all the men in the room, and she
liked him the best, and hated to see him insulted.
“Jackie,” he said, recovering himself a little, though still
angry, letting go her hips and stroking her bottom tenderly.
“Jackie...” his voice trailed off. Jackie felt a little more secure and
she tossed her hair back, for it was in her eyes. It was piled atop her
head, quite beautifully, but the women had bound it very loosely, with a
single ribbon at the back, as if to encourage the quiet composure of her
hair to fall slowly about her eyes and face as she was hustled up the
stairs and into the room and manhandled by the men. Jackie’s cape
fluttered as she tossed her head back. She felt the band of her collar
tight about her neck. She tugged a little at her wristcuffs, wishing
she could move her arms freely.
She felt a confidence, despite the presence of the riding
crop. It rose up from her center, from where her legs met, and bloomed
in her belly, and then spread out through her breasts right to the
quivering, excited tips. It felt very feminine. She’d never felt so
admired before, despite her fear, and she shook her head again, like a
horse before a race. The man patted her bottom again, and then he
turned her around.
He touched her sex. First just the hairs of her mount, then
rudely between her lips.
“Did you know I saw you pee?” he asked her. Jackie bowed her
head and she felt it fall down around her eyes again and she shook it
back from her face.
“I suspected,” she answered quietly.
“You looked quite wonderful squatting,” he told her. “But I
want to see so much more. And you won’t be able to give it freely. I
know that. You are not the first I’ve seen, the first I’ve trained.”
He looked up at her. His eyes were deep and blue and hers were
Hazel-brown. “Do you know that?” he asked.
She sighed, her breasts quivering between his gaze and hers,
her nipples stiff and hard.
“Yes,” she answered.
“And you will not be the last, either,” he said softly to her.
And at once she knew what she wanted. She wanted to be the
last. She wanted him to find her the best of all and never need
another, after her. She felt her belly relax a little. A gentle swell
formed where there had been tenseness and flatness between the bottom of
her ribs and the top of her pubis. She let her hips arch forward a
little, inviting him to explore her further.
“Come,” he said, standing. “You weaken me.” He shoved her
back as he stood and he grabbed her hard by the arm and she shrieked,
for now he was in control, and she couldn’t stop him. He drew her
across the room. She stumbled but his grip was firm and he put her up
against the wall. She felt it against her face, hard and implacable.
She felt her lips against it and she wondered if they were leaving a
lipstick mark upon it. Behind her he unhooked her hands, her hands that
she’d tried to pull apart on her own. It was a swift, easy movement, as
a trained master might make with equipment he knew very well. She
looked up as he raised her arms and to her horror she saw that there
were rings in the wall, high up, waiting to receive her cuffs.
Separately they were snapped by him into the rings in the wall. He
seemed to know the rings intimately. He didn’t even have to drop one of
her hands to fix the other up. He merely twisted the ring a bit, while
holding both her wrists wide apart, and then one of her wrists and then
other went CLICK. CLICK. into the rings on the wall.
He stepped back. Jackie heard his footsteps in the rug.
Frantically she looked back over her shoulder, no longer confident and
composed now, feeling her bottom bulbing out, with the cape too short to
cover it, and she looked to see where the riding crop was. She saw him
pick it up from the floor where he’d dropped it to fasten her against
the wall. He stroked it across his palm, lovingly, as a rider of a
horse might stroke a crop, not to hurt the horse with it, but simply
using it knowingly, to evoke the best possible response from the horse
during the race.
“Stick your ass out more,” the man said gruffly to Jackie.
“Stick it out at me like you did before, and open your legs.”
“No!” Jackie gasped. She was trembling with fear and her face
had an open, panicked look to it. Her beautiful eyes were wide and her
generous mouth gaped at the sight of the crop being passed so
confidently across the man’s palm.
“There is much that must be done to you Jackie,” the man said.
His voice had a brutish quality to it now, as an emporer might address a
half-naked gladiator in the ring. “I wish you were 19, or 21, but you
are not, yet your ass must be widened, and your cunt firmly opened, and
your tits perhaps must be pierced, for that is the sort of thing we do
here.” He reached out and he grabbed her lovely piled up hair and he
pulled it back, hard, as if it were a coil of rope he might use to climb
the wall with. “Give me a gag,” he said gruffly to his friends.
“She’ll scream to high heaven if we don’t put one in her.”
“No, please!” Jackie moaned, but at once one of the men, though
he’d laughed at her master earlier, appeared at his side and gave him a
gag. Her master wrapped it around her mouth, fiercely. He wedged it
deep, forcing her tongue back. It was made of canvas and it felt
strange in Jackie’s mouth, for she’d never been gagged before, least of
all by her boyfriend, who she’d had to explain what a condom was to,
even though he was on the school football team.
Like him, this man had a gentle quality to him, perhaps a
shyness, but when aroused and enraged he become quite uncontrollable.
Jackie felt her knees sag and she might have stooped, she was so scared
now, but he’d made her stand on tip-toe when he’d pinned her against the
wall, and she could only bend her knees just the slightest bit, and she
thought she might faint.
“There, wide apart!” the man said. “Why didn’t they put
restraints on your ankles?” He made her separate her legs and Jackie
found herself straining, hard-pressed against the wall. “Turn your
head, there,” the man said to her. “Don’t face into the wall.” He
eased her face so that it looked along the wall and her cheek pressed to
it. “Keep it that way,” he said. “I don’t want you smashing your teeth
against the wall. Why did they take out the post?” he asked the other
men angrily.
“They want a new one, the old one has too many whip marks cut
into it,” a fellow replied.
“Well this is certainly harder,” her master answered. “First I
was all gentle and kind to her, and she humiliated me, and now I’ve got
to watch out I don’t mess up her face and ruin her teeth.” He pressed
her face hard against the wall, making her cheek smoosh up against it.
She felt the canvas gag between her cheek and the wall. It was soft,
she worked her mouth and was glad it was soft for a normal canvas gag
would have chafed the corners of her mouth. Her lips tried to close
over the gag but it was too big, wadded into her, and she felt like some
odd Miss Bill, with a big O shaped mouth, the gag keeping her lips wide
apart.
“Now, remain so,” her master said easily. He stepped back.
“Have you ever gone to the dentist?” he asked Jackie. She nodded, wide
eyed, unknowing what else to do.
“Good. Think of me as your dentist,” he said. And then, quite
abruptly, after all that long period of care and concern and attention
he’d given her, he slashed the riding crop very hard across her bottom.
“EEEEEEEEEeeeeeyEEEE!” Jackie cried. She launched herself up
on her toes and scrabbled her hands against the wall, trying to climb
it. She yelled at the top of her voice and she kicked her legs back and
up and to the side as she felt the sting of the crop sink into her ass.
Her fleshy cheeks wobbled and moved with some kind of energy of their
own, first in, under the crop, then bouncing out, then clenching and
moving with her legs as she danced. She felt a bright mark of pain
where the crop had touched her and it grew and blossomed and she knew it
must be horrible, for it felt horrible, a long streak of red on her pale
white heinie.
“Her first welt,” the man who’d claimed her and was her master
boasted to his friends. Jackie sobbed into her gag. She felt utterly
humiliated. Her little cape waved, like Supergirl, as she attempted to
leap up the wall. Finally, the men enjoying the show and not
interfering, she found herself pressed against the wall, her forehead
butting against it and looking down at her toes. Her breasts heaved
with her sighs and her crying gasps. Her gag muffled all. Finally her
master reached in, gently he took her chin and he lifted it and moved
her face so that her cheek pressed against the wall.
“Don’t worry,” he said to her, adjusting her head, patting her
hair that tumbled down round her eyes and past her shoulders and partway
down her back. “Your bottom is just as beautiful as before, only now it
bears my mark.” Jackie shook her head ‘no’, ‘NO’ I don’t want to bear
your mark, she tried say. But the gag muffled her and she felt his big
hand on her head, moving it, placing it just like he liked it, and then
he took hold of her long round lovely thighs, so neatly tanned by the
pool, and he wrenched them apart. He caught her next by her hips and
his big fingers gripped her and he pulled her bottom back and made her
show it to him, like she’d shown it before, sticking it out, yet then
he’d been angry at seeing her do that and now he was forcing her to.
“Yes, just like that,” he said. “Keep it that way ‘til I hit
you again. Then you may move it however you please.” He stepped back.
Jackie trembled fiercely, trying to hold the pose, yet desperate with
pain and fear at what would happen to her poor bottom.
He savored her postion. His friends looked at her standing
naked against the wall, just the little useless cape covering her, and
then not even where it mattered, and he stared at her, watching her
every little tensing of her behind and grimace of her waiting eyes and
mouth.
SWAAAK! Finally it came. It was almost a relief to her when
it did come, for she’d waited so long for it, yet knew she couldn’t
escape it. When the crop finally struck her she felt a sense of control
return to her, even as she gasped and screamed, for now she could deal
with the pain, let it pass through her, manage it somehow, instead of
just tensely waiting.
Jackie cried out in a high-pitched voice. Her white bottom,
burned red a second time with a line from the crop across it, flexed and
humped and bulbed obscenely. She reached for the moon, mooning the men
in the meantime, and then she danced about, caught up against the wall
and unable to go anywhere, yet dancing as energetically as she ever had
in any nightclub.
At last, quivering sobs seizing her, Jackie was able to hang
her head and gaze at her heaving breasts again and stare at her toes.
She panted and whimpered. She felt her master come up to her and kiss
the back of her head and then kiss her cheek. He pressed himself
against her. She felt his clothes and, where her cape ended, she felt a
protuberance, and she knew he was pressing his manhood against her, all
excited at her display.
“Yes,” he breathed. “You did very well, and I want to whip you
more, but this wall is too difficult. I must take you someplace else.
Downstairs there is equipment we can use. I will take you there,” he
said, deciding as he spoke.
She was unfastened. She felt relief wash through her but it
was tinged with fear, for he held her wrists tightly after he’d unloosed
them and he quickly secured them behind her back. She felt awful. He
was big and strong and she was little and small, just 5’ 5”, yet he kept
every advantage over her, locking her hands together, leaving her gag
on. He adjusted her cape. He told her she looked very pretty in it.
She threw her head, angrily, a quick decisive denying motion, but he
only laughed, for it was futile, she could no more deny him than a horse
tethered in its stable could deny its master.
“You have such lovely hair,” he said to her, whispering. “And
you may be as angry as you please, little one.” He laughed and kissed
her cheek and she could do nothing to deny him.
He took her downstairs then. Away from the other men, down the
stairs she’d come up, down the hall, and down another flight of stairs.
She had to walk carefully down the stairs for she had no use of her
hands. He guided her with a hand lightly on her shoulder, almost not
holding her at all, and she wondered if he would catch her if she fell.
Yet his presence was there, always, and she had no hope of running away.
He led her into a darkened room. The man who Jackie knew only
as her master flicked on a light. Suddenly, before her wild unbelieving
eyes, she saw a room filled with equipment that was beyond all her
comprehension. Trestles and padded bars and ladders, big wooden X’s, a
noose hanging in a corner, a guillotine in another, from which hung
suspended a shiny blade. And, ranged along the wall, well-polished, as
if for some kind of unusual circus, were whips and knouts and more
manacles than she could count, and other things besides, too wicked to
understand or describe.
Yet there was, amidst all this horror, a small table. It was
set with a plate on each side, being a small round table, and upon it
there were a dozen roses, standing up straight in a crystal vase. He
led her over to the table and sat her welted bottom down on a chair with
a satin cushion on its seat. Jackie grimaced as her bottom came into
contact with the cushion, but he made her sit on it, pressing on her
small tanned shoulder, watching her breasts bounce as she negotiated
herself with the welts screaming up from her ass. Tears rolled down her
cheeks. She looked up at him. Gently he untied her gag.
“Thank you,” was all she could gasp, as she felt it drawn from
her mouth. She licked her lips and her teeth and drew in her breath and
was glad to find it flowing again through her mouth, instead of her
small little nose.
He drew a chair over and sat next to her. “I want you to eat,
before we begin, before we do anymore,” he told her quite frankly.
“You’ll need lots of energy and you’ll need to be able to keep your
strength up.”
“Oh, this place is so awful!” Jackie moaned. Her voice caught
in her throat and she glanced about. She did not even try to deny his
wishes (she knew that was quite futile) but she admitted her fear and
hoped desperately he’d find some way to pity her.
“None of these things can harm you,” her master replied. He
lifted a pear, a sweet young pear, shaped like her body, with its
swelling hips, but without the perfection of her full round breasts,
hanging out so sweetly in front of her, and he placed it upon the lips
of her frightened mouth. “Eat,” he said. “Only I can harm you, using
these things, but you can obey me and do as I say and perhaps I’ll go
easy on you.”
Staring at him, she took a bite of the pear. With difficulty
she chewed and swallowed it. He watched her, mesmerized, as he’d been
in the room upstairs. He watched the lift and the gentle fall of her
breasts. He made her eat the entire pear. He went as slowly as she
desired, letting her chew it fully. There was a small glass of water
beside her plate and he let her drink. When she wanted more, eating the
cherries he fed her, and the apple, and the chees, he gave her his own
glass of water. He held it for her and let her drink it fast or slow as
she pleased, for she could hold nothing, her hands still being locked
behind her.
“I’m afraid,” he told her at last, “that all your drinking had
made me have to go to the bathroom.” As she watching, eating a last
bite from an apple, he stood up. He walked to a small hole in the wall
and he inserted his penis into it. “Don’t worry,” he called back over
his shoulder to her. “It’s thoroughly cleaned every day. No men have
used it yet today, I’m the first.” And she hoped he was telling her
this because he intended to use her in some normal way, like her
boyfriend back home did, perhaps sparing her the torment of the machines
and equipment she saw all around her.
He returned to her, zipping himself up. “I’m afraid if you
have to go it will be in a glass, perhaps one of these, or a bowl,” he
told her, sitting down again. “That one only works for men.”
She stared at him. She wanted to flee him but he was terribly
handsome and she was afraid it would only cost her, or, worse, put her
into the hands of the men she didn’t like upstairs.
Jackie heard the door at the top of the stairs open. A man and
woman descended partway. The woman was topless, the man fully clothed,
like her master. They were eating party food.
“Oh, there she is!” the woman laughed. “Someone said she’d
escaped.”
“Don’t be too gentle,” the man admonished Jackie’s master. “I
think you left the last girl disappointed.”
“This one’s young, only 15,” Jackie’s master answered. He
looked up at them, reached out and stroked Jackie’s face.
Jackie figeted in her seat, embarrassed, her once perfectly
coiffed and ribboned hair loose, falling into her eyes. Her breath
tasted of cherries and apples. She felt the eyes of the interlopers on
her bare breasts and her soft indrawn tummy, her tightly pressed thighs,
which she drew more closely together than they’d been for her master,
when she’d let them part a little, letting him see into that which she
hoped he favored, over the awful equipment.
“Have you beaten her yet?” the woman asked. She bit into a
piece of cake, held a cup of punch in her other hand. Her husband, or
perhaps it was her lover, ate a stalk of celery with cheese piled high
in it.
“A little,” Jackie’s master answered.
“She looks awfully fresh,” the man said. “You must be more
complete. She should radiate openness. Look how she closes her
thighs!”
Jackie’s master looked from the guests down between Jackie’s
legs, at her pubis, at how her legs tried to hide her sex.
“I will train her,” he replied to the guests.
“As you will, but I wouldn’t have given an inch, not with a man
as careful and nice as you are,” the woman said to Jackie’s master.
“You couldn’t give an inch. You were too well tied,” the man
with the woman who was eating cake now, so casually, told her. The
woman laughed. They turned, walked upstairs, closed the door.
Jackie’s master turned to her. He looked again at her pose,
how she sat stiffly on the chair, with her thighs pressed tightly
together.
“You impugn my honor,” he said to her. He said it softly,
gently, but there was an implacability in it, an air of determination
that Jackie knew she couldn’t dissuade. Immediately she let her thighs
spring apart. She let him see all he wished, but it was too late.
Master fished in his pocket. He drew forth two small brass
clips. He tossed them onto the table, as one might toss out trinkets to
a child to play with. Jackie blanched. She could guess what they were
without having to ask. She’d never worn any before, and she could feel
her nipples tingle with fright as she regarded them.
Master took an apple from his plate. He ate it slowly, letting
Jackie gaze at the clips as he ate, her arms securely locked behind her
back, her nipples shivering nakedly before the two of them, both of them
knowing what must happen.
Finally she looked up at him. Her lips formed a simple, soft,
pleading question: “Why?” She asked. She asked it with the high,
anxious voice of a little girl afraid of a shot.
“Have you ever worn them before?” he asked, taking a final bite
from his apple. She shook her head in a quick ‘no.’
“That’s why,” he told her. He grinned. He lifted his glass
and then realized he’d let her drink all the water from it. He placed
it back on the table. “If you think I’m going to let you get away
without wearing these, when you’ve never worn them before, you’re
crazy,” he said to her. “And I know, with you’re being here, with
you’re having been willing to show up, that someone’s going to clamp
your little titties one of these days. If I don’t, you’ll always
despise me, deep down, because I wasn’t bold enough to do it, and the
other man was.”
Jackie gulped. She knew, despite her fears, despite her
naysaying, that he was right. Gently he lifted a clip. “Don’t worry.
There’s much fiercer ones than these,” he told her. He took one of her
soft uptilted bosoms in his hand. Her nipple was hard, she couldn’t
help herself. She drew in her breath. Her breast rose a little from
his hand, trying to escape. He laughed, caught her more firmly. He
prised open the mouth of the clamp and drew his fingertips out to the
tense end of her teat, held her budding nipple tight. But not as tight
as the clamp would. “Ooooh!” Jackie exclaimed. The clamp closed
over her hard little nipple and bit into it like a baby’s teeth.
Suddenly, on the very tip of her lovely big breast, which hung so
freely, which swayed with her every movement, she sported a naughty
little mouth that bit into the tenderest part of her. She wriggled her
breast free of her master’s hand. She tried to shake off the clamp but
it hung on, and with her hands locked behind her she could do nothing to
escape it.
“Now for the other,” Master said to her. He reached for her
tit, she tried to escape, but her tit was large and though she drew back
from him he had no trouble catching it. He took the other clamp from
the table and popped open its mouth. “Bye, bye, virginity,” he
laughed. And then Jackie’s other tit, which had only ever felt the warm
comforting cup of a bra, felt suddenly the biting mouth of the evil
little clamp.
“Now you know what it’s like for a man to have his erection up
your cunt,” Master told her. Jackie pouted, felt tears well in her
eyes. The clamps hurt! There was no getting around it. She felt like
twin babies were nursing at her, very hungry babies, and she wondered
for a moment if that is indeed what it felt like. “I’m afraid I’m going
to be very unfair with you,” Master told Jackie. “For even as I’m
clipping you and locking you up, first your hands, now your tits, I’m
going to undo myself.” He grinned at her. As she watched, wide-eyed,
her bosoms hurting with the clamps stuck on the ends of them, Master
reached down and unzipped his trousers. To Jackie’s amazed eyes he
parted his underpants and drew through the hole in the front of them a
long, thickly pulsing cock. Gasping, seeing the full extent of it,
marvelling at its awful hugeness, Jackie wondered how her master had
ever managed to stuff such a big thing into his pants. It quavered
before her eyes and, as she gulpingly remembered that her period was far
away and she’d be denyed any pills during her stay here, she saw that
master’s cock already had a bead of pre-cum oozing happily from its
tip. “Ahhhh,” master groaned. “Sorry to be impolite, but that feels so
much better,” he breathed. He looked at himself wiggling around stiffly
with admiration, a flagpole without a flag. “I’d ask you to salute the
damn thing but you’ve got your hands tied behind your back,” he told
her.
Absently, without even thinking, and knowing she shouldn’t have
the moment she did it, Jackie licked her lips. Master laughed. “Why
yes!” he said. “I had the same thought myself. Bend over, dear. Why
should I be discreet about it? And I can whip you much more soundly if
I’m not distracted by this damn thing.”
“Noooo!” Jackie protested, but he gruffly told her she’d drunk
two cups of water and if she was that thirsty, she may as well have what
was hanging between his legs as well. He fitted her gasping
apple-flavored mouth over his cock. He thrust himself up, like an eager
boy. She was forced to accept him. She’d blown her boyfriend a few
times, when she’d been too embarrassed to let him fuck her, but now a
man’s cock entered her mouth, and she had difficulty accepting it. The
head was huge and its knob split her lips apart, wider than the canvas
gag had. Following it came his shaft, and as Jackie felt the knob of
his manhood hit the back of her throat she gagged.
Gently he brushed her hair back from her eyes, still holding
her down by her head. “Suck,” he told her. “It will be much smaller
after you make me cum.”
Jackie mouthed him. She licked his shaft and did her best to
permit his knobbed head to bang against the back of her mouth. He tried
to fit himself down her throat but she couldn’t take it, almost
vomiting. He contented himself with what she could take, finally, and
eased himself back in his seat and told her to lick and suck and
perhaps, withdrawing a bit, if she dared, blow him until he came in her
mouth. “Then,” he told her, ominously, “You’ll be beaten.”
Jackie wanted to bite him. She hated him and she hated herself
for coming here, for letting Elaine take her picture, for letting
herself be invited. Yet, as she contemplated biting his shaft, she
couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was too gorgeous, and his thing was
as gorgoeus as he was, and even though she hated having it forced into
her mouth she felt a certain awe for it, a certain profound respect.
And so, try as she might to bring herself to bite hard into his big
intrusive mean shaft, the shaft he kept trying to gag her with, she
couldn’t. Yet even as she showed compassion for his thing she could
feel her breasts hanging down underneath her, and both her nipples
screamed with the awful biting clamps that were cutting into them.
“Come,” Master said, lifting Jackie’s head a little to watch
her work. “Mess up your face. Make me spurt all over your makeup and
into your lovely eyes and up your nose and all over your teeth, yes your
teeth, young lady, and your lips.” He sighed. Ginger did bite him a
little then, teased by him in this way, but it was only a small bite,
and she only made him laugh. “Am I too big for you to bite off, hmmmm?”
he laughed at her. “Can’t you do it? Or are you too afraid of me to do
it?” He gave a deep, hearty laugh, making his chest shake and, since
her mouth was connected to him, it made her titties wiggle quite
energetically beneath her.
Even as she sucked upon his erection, pleasing him, she tried
somehow hopefully to not make him cum. For when he came, he kept
telling her, taunting her, she would be beaten. And when he came, for a
little while at least, he would have no interest in her pussy, and any
hope of sparing herself the tortures of the room in favor of a warm
snuggly bed upstairs would be lost.
Then, quite suddenly, frightened and shrieking, she felt him
bubble and shoot up into her mouth and her face. It was a fusillade,
like something out of a war. It spattered like gunfire across her face
and it did indeed shoot up her nose and blind her, briefly, by
splattering up into her eyes. Jackie tried desperately to raise her
head, but he kept her bent over, and he thoroughly enjoyed, in the
wickedest of ways, seeing her struggle as she tried to escape his
geysering sperm.
“Ahhh,” Master pronounced, when it was over. Only then did he
let go of her head. She flung it up, angrily. Her face dripped with
his cum and she gaped out at him angrily from a mask of white sperm.
She could taste it pooling inside her mouth and she snorted, horselike,
to try to get it out of her nose.
“Don’t drink the water,” Master said to her, chuckling.
“You’re mean,” Jackie said to him.
“A slave must never address her master unless she’s asked to,”
he told her. “Extra punishment for that.”
“Ooooh!” Jackie shook her head but there was nothing she could
do, except fling sperm around as she moved her head quickly back and
forth in denial. Yet, even as she hated him, even as she wished she’d
bitten is cock off (if such a huge thing could indeed be bitten off),
she admired him somehow, his largess, his eruption of sperm that had so
thoroughly coated her face.
“Now, my dear, with my penis temporarily disabled, I can
concentrate on you,” Master grinned at Jackie. She looked at him with
sullen eyes, feeling defeated. She let her shoulders droop, she felt
her breasts weighed down by the clamps. Her perfect hair, her makeup,
all was ruined now. She had no control over the cellar door and she
knew if the couple reappeared she’d feel foolish, sitting nude with
clamps on her tits and her face a big white mudpack of sperm. She felt
his cum sticking to her cheeks, usually broad with a smile, in her
normal life, and caked on her long lovely lashes. She felt it sticking
to her teeth, ruining her sweet apple-breath. She stuck out her tongue
at him and saw it was completely white with his essence.
“Ha! Ha! Still defiant, I like that!” Master told her. In
indignation at the comment Jackie sat bolt upright. She glared at him
and then she winced because the clamps on her nipples were hurting her
terribly. They were not harsh clamps, but she’d never worn clamps
before and to her they were utterly new and utterly awful. Her master
grinned at her. He poked her in her belly with his finger. “Wait ‘til
I get to work on that,” he told her, stabbing her tummy. “Then you’ll
be filing for child support, not trying to run away from me.”
It was luscious, somehow, having this big man in front of her,
doing what he pleased, and quite pleased to do it. She was small and
nude and he was big and still had his suit on. He’d let her drink his
water, he’d fed her by hand. And yet, now he wished to hurt her! She
wished instead he’d take her upstairs and introduce her to the bedroom,
instead of this awful chamber of horrors. Yet she knew that whatever he
wished to do, he’d do, and she had no choice in the matter. Did she
wish for a choice? She’d been bored with her old boyfriend. Why hadn’t
she remained faithful to him? Why had she come here, seeking pleasure?
Was he too nice? Or was he simply not here, with her on her summer of
modelling jobs? Jackie didn’t know. But it was too late for such
decisions to be reconsidered, and she tried to put them out of her mind
and cope, instead, with what lay before her.
Her master rose. He was large and he gazed down at her with a
look of complete possession and satisfaction on his face. Teasingly, he
reached out and took off her clamps. Jackie hissed at the new shot of
pain that coursed up from her nipples as the clamps were removed. She
screamed. As the blood rushed back into her bitten clamps they felt
even worse! Jackie let her head roll back and she howled a bitter howl
and she wept. She found herself falling forward and her master caught
her and wedged his finger into her mouth, as a kind of gag. She did
bite him then.
“Yeeeeoch!” Her master yelped. She tasted blood in her mouth
and she knew it was his. He could have removed his finger, but he
didn’t. Somehow, despite the pain, despite the fact she might bite him
again, he left his finger in her mouth and let her suck on it until the
awful pain in her breasts retreated.
At last master reached down and toyed with Jackie’s nipples.
She flinched, she tried to withdraw. Gently he refrained from grabbing
them, yet he followed them wherever she went, lifting when she lifted,
bending, and she could not escape the flickering touch of his fingers.
At last she let one of her nipples settle into his hand. Lightly he
stroked it.
“Yes, there, it’s all better now,” he consoled her. She sucked
on his finger still. At last he lifted her face. He took a napkin from
the table and wiped his blood from her mouth. Her lips were red again.
He kissed them, briefly, tasted his own blood and his jism. Then he
knelt. Quietly he inspected her breasts. She sat on her wounded hiney,
wishing to rise, yet knowing that when she rose he would beat her. She
let him nurse at her tits. He spent a long time suckling them, being
very tender, then a little demanding, nippling her poor nipples, making
her gasp out screamy cries.
At last he stood up. There was nothing left but to beat her
now. He left his zipper unzipped, for he was rising again, his cock at
half-mast, excited at the prospect of seeing her put through her paces.
Master lifted Jackie to her feet. He reached for her neck. “I
have to take off the cape, so I can mark your back,” he told her.
Shivering in his hands, frightened beyond belief, she waited with
trembling knees as he unhooked the cape from her. Suddenly, in her fear
and anguish, she peed. It sprang from her dell unexpectedly. It
splattered onto the floor, next to the nice table with the fresh roses
stemming up from the vase.
“Ahhh,” Master said. “You wet my pants.” He stepped back a
little. Her pee, hitting the floor underneath her, between her feet,
splattered upon her ankles and calves and feet and shoes and upon the
cuff of his trousers.
Jackie finished peeing. She felt terrible, yet there had been
nothing she could do. The fright had brought it on, and he was
responsible for frightening her. Master seemed understanding. He took
his own napkin from the table and unfolded it and bent and, ignoring his
pants, though she knew she’d be punished for wetting them, he carefully
wiped her toes in her open-toed heels and her ankles and her calves and
her new shoes.
“Come,” Master said to her. “I must make you pay for all
you’ve done.” He led her by her collar, hooking a finger into one of
the rings that had held her cape. It lay rumpled on the floor now,
Supergirl returned to her mortal self. He led her across the room and
as she felt her nude breasts bouncing and the sway of her hips she felt
like a show pony being led out for a contest. She could feel her hair
around her face and uncoiling down her bare back. She felt her tummy,
flat and indrawn, and wondered if indeed he would make it swell with his
seed. She felt the trembling of her legs as she walked and she wondered
how she would ever manage to bear whatever it was he had in mind for her
on this awful evening, among the nooses and guillotines and torture
equipement.
“Yes, my pet,” Master told her, walking her up to a big awful
machine with straps and chains hanging from it. “There’s hardly any
hope for you. I’m much too infatuated and curious.”
It was quiet in the dungeon. Upstairs the sound of laughter
and merrymaking could be heard but down here things had progressed to a
point of being quite serious, for both of them, for both knew they were
being put to the test by each other. Jackie’s master let her observe
the device he’d selected for her. She trembled, her knees shaking as
she listened to him undress behind her. He took off his clothes
slowly. He felt his strength begin to return in his loins. He knew
that although he’d been boyish with her before, splattering her face
with his eagerness, he would now have to be more restrained. He could
not afford to simply spend on her again. She would survive the night
and she would talk with other girls and they would share secrets. He
would have to be as good as any other man, preferably better, if she
were to respect him after it was over. He could feel the tightness in
his belly and the roiling, rising need in his balls. At first it had
been a simple pleasure to squirt on her, to show her how he could
dominate her. Now that initial need had blossomed again, quicker than
he thought it might, for she delighted him like few other girls he’d
encountered. She was younger than all of them and that somehow made her
more sweet, for she was quite tender and new to all this. He felt
responsible for her. At first he had simply wanted to scare her, to put
his mark upon her body. Then he had loved the tension of toying with
her, of watching her eat and feeling himself engorged, even though it
had hurt him to be so full in his crotch with his pants closed around
his body. And then he’d showed her his manhood, almost like a little
boy, and made her be completely submissive to it and what it contained.
Yet now, as he swelled and stemmed into her backside, making
her flinch at the pressure of him rising against her anew, he felt a
seriousness in his arms and legs and his denuded torso. He stood behind
her like a God, naked and hard and vicious, but in her nudity she was a
Goddess, and a God that proved inferior to a Goddess was nothing, a
whelp or a boy who could only please himself but never another.
She waited for him to undress. As she trembled before him,
tossing her head back once to clear the hair from her eyes, she stared
at the machine he’d brought her to, like some obscene matrimonial bed,
and she waited. She might have begged or pleaded or cried, but instead
she waited quietly, letting him undress. That a girl so young and new
and vulnerable, barely out of 9th grade, could show such aplomb
frightened him. He stuck her backside with his newly stiff erection.
She yelped, drew in her cheeks, then gradually settled back against his
prong and continued to wait. A tension ran along the arc of his cock,
from his hairy bush to the smooth, satiny cushioned cheeks of her
bottom. He felt as if his prick were a kind of bridge between them, his
body and hers, and her wait caused it to bow like a bridge under stress.
He took hold of his cock. It was wet at the tip and he briefly
drew it across the painful reminder of his strength that he’d burned
into her soft ass. She gasped. She shifted her hips and bowed her head
and bit her lip. Yet her bottom, in doing so, bulbed out to him more,
pushing back harder against him. And he had to fight back the urge to
spend himself on her cheeks.
He had complete possession of her, and it was hard, for she had
only to obey, while he had to command, to plan, to show the way. She
might cum a hundred times, for her pleasure or his, yet he could only
come a few times this night. Why was it so? Why was the slave, who
should have been utterly debased, so freely gifted with orgasms by the
Creator? Why was the Master, who should have been utterly calm and free
with himself, instead limited to a handful of spurts, and no more? He
had the duty to make it all work. He had to tie her and restrain her
and make sure she could breathe, unless he valued her so little he
simply intended to kill her. And her beauty would not allow that. Nor
would his desire, for he drew no desire from destroying her ability to
respond, but only from heightening her ability to do so. Yet he was
quite strictly limited in how many times he could spend, while she might
do so innumerably. He had to feed her and wash her and care for her, if
he was to derive the maximum satisfaction from her. He had to think of
her always, while she might forget him entirely and think only of
herself.
He steeled himself for the job ahead. She would derive
satisfaction from him this time, he knew, or mark him down quietly as a
failure. He wished he had not been so eager with her earlier. The
courage of this small little creature in front of him, with her
half-undone, piled up hair, with her tenderly nippled teats, her
spreading thighs, her high round bottom butting back against his sex,
scared him. A shiver ran through her, but he knew it was from the
waiting, from the heat she felt between her legs, and not, in the end,
from what he might do to her. If she had been truly scared of him she
would have cried out in the room upstairs when she first faced him. Or
she might have begged for help when he brought her down the front steps,
or when the couple from upstairs intruded upon the basement stairs.
Yet, despite being hurt by him, despite the twin welts he’d given her,
her first, across the satiny cheeks of her white-fleshed bottom, she
stood immobile, uttering only little soft breathy sounds, the sound of
her breathing.
He resolved to induce in her more tension and respect. He
leaned over her, grabbed her around the waist as one might grab a smart
little sister who was too big for her britches. She gasped, let out a
cry at the sudden attack. He leaned in over her, forcing her forward.
His hairy forearm clamped itself across her stomach, forcing her breath
out. He reached down underneath the beam that lay horizontally on the
machine before them. He twisted a knob. Suddenly, out the top of the
beam, from its flat innocuous surface, rose a missile-like prick. It
was about half the size of his cock in width, and he cranked it up under
her gaping, virginal eyes until about two inches of it extruded.
“I’m going to make you sit on this,” he told her. “I can’t
possibly take your tight little ass right away. You have to be opened
up first. This will help. Have you ever sat on anything like this
before?” He knew the answer before she replied. He’d read her physical
from the doctor.
“No!” she gasped. She’d only been fucked in her pussy by her
boyfriend back home. She’d refused to let the doctor even put a finger
into her rear-end. Yet now the object before her was a good deal larger
than a finger, though smaller still than the cock he intended to violate
her with by night’s end.
“I don’t--” she said, turning her head. He saw fear in her
eyes and was glad.
“You don’t what?” he asked. His voice was slow, measured. He
was in his rightful place again, with himself in control and her
shuddering in his grasp.
“Just my pussy, please,” she breathed. Like a little girl she
pointed to her dell. She let her finger, in its pointing, graze the
spot between her open legs where she wanted him.
He laughed. It was the good, hearty laugh of the all-knowing,
all-encompassing Master.
“You think I should be content with that?” he sneered. He
turned her around as she showed, with her finger, where she wanted him.
He gazed down at her lovely young form with impunity. “You gave that
away to another,” he said. “I want something new. And what I want, I
take. Do you think you will order your master about, make him your
slave?” He slapped her. But it was a light slap, just enough to leave
a hand-print on her cheek. She gasped. A whimper escaped her and she
looked down at his very hard cock. It throbbed against her belly. It
indented her soft flesh, as if trying to burrow into it, an Alien in
reverse, seeking to thrust her through like a lance.
“Come,” he said. He reached back and unsnapped her hands. He
lifted her to place her atop the beam.
“No!” Jackie shrieked. But somehow her hands, in beating
against his chest, wound up around her neck. She steadied herself
against him. She bit her lip. He lifted first one of her legs, holding
her under her thigh, then the other. With a grimace she felt herself
wedged atop and then, giving a shout, placed down upon the plug. It was
well-greased, having risen from a sheath in the wood larded with grease,
and it went up her with ferocious ease.
“Oooooh! Get me off!” Jackie insisted. Master laughed.
“Do you think you’re at Disneyland? Am I just some attendant
here for your pleasure?” He touched her chin. He watched the working
of her lips as she felt her hiney irrevocably settled upon the plug.
“Not tonight, my dear. Tonight you may ask, or beg, it doesn’t matter,
but I will not help you. I will do as I wish and you will have to put
up with it as best as you can. How often does the sister say to her
brother, ‘Do this?’ Or to her father, ‘Do that?’ And they spring to
her aid, retrieving her, helping her, casting their coat down so that
she might walk through Hell unsinged? Not tonight, my little one. This
dungeon does not exist for you to be protected from it. It is a Male
thing, and I have brought you into it to make you feel life in reverse
for a change, to make you a creature of my whim instead of me a creature
of yours.” Yet even as he spoke he knew it was all lies, for she let go
of him and almost toppled back and he had to reach out and catch her,
like one might catch a fine China dish.
“No, I don’t want to be on this thing!” Jackie said to him
quite seriously. He gazed into her face. He held her small fragile
body and he watched her breath and how it made her twin bosoms rise and
fall on her chest.
“You’re already on it, my dear,” he replied. “Quite plugged,
right in your ass where things should come out but where a Man wishes to
see things go in, go up!” He laughed at her. Then, carefully, he
lifted her hands, and with that sure easy grip of a Master who’d done
this before, to other girls before her and perhaps to other girls after
her, he clicked her uplifted, straining arms into overhead restraints.
They made her stretch, sitting on the beam, as if up to Heaven, seeking
redemption.
“Yes,” he chuckled. He tweaked her tender nipples and watched
her stiffen. “Now let’s get these legs apart and up around my waist,
hmmm?” You’re going to be fucked in two places at once now, my cock in
your hungry little snatch and that plug up your ass! Have you ever been
taken in both places at once, hmmm?”
She nodded quite distinctly that she had not. Her answer
thrilled him.
“Ahhh, your poor incompetent boyfriend did not take you through
your paces, I see. He was not so inventive. You need a man for that.
How lucky you found me. You’ll find I’m quite depraved.” He laughed
but secretly hoped she found him at least as self-controlled as he was
depraved, for he didn’t wish to spend in her this second time, only to
violate her. He prodded her dell with his stemming cock. She looked
down at his hardness, at his lance that once again bruited itself
against her, but this time in a place where she might receive him
without harm. And, shoving within her closeness, he felt her legs wrap
eagerly around his waist as he lifted them up. He had only to place her
thighs up around his hips and immediately she was like a clamp upon him,
drawing him in, sucking his hugeness into her tight little dell and
gasping into his face, but nonetheless pulling him hard with her
close-wrapped calves, keeping him from escaping.
“Unnnnh!” Master groaned. For a moment he wondered at his
status, for the young beautiful creature seemed to capture him, despite
his largeness and her smallness. He was Siren-struck. His dick plowed
into her dell and she pleaded that he must not violate her, but at the
same time her calves worked hard to yank him against her. In a
groin-shattering moment he found himself deeply embedded. He kissed her
lips and prayed he could recover himself from her depths without losing
her seed. He wanted her ass, he needed her strength for her nether
hole.
Now she began to buck. Despite the hard plug up her ass she
rocked atop the beam and fucked him hard with her snatch. Master
gasped, coughed, groaned. He felt himself sliding back as she rocked
back away from him, then into her again as she leaned forward. There
was a marvellous freedom given to her by the restraints. By yanking on
them with her captive arms, she was able to move back and forth against
him like some girl on a playground ride. He was in her and he could not
step back for her calves kept him prisoner. Back and forth she went,
moving him in and out, and he throbbed in her desperately. He felt his
balls tighten against the underside of his groin and they notified him
that they could not handle such a vigorous invitation for very long.
Master tossed his head back, not knowing what to do. Dare he reach back
and untangle her legs from behind himself? It would be almost unmanly,
would it not? Must he not let her clamp him if she wished? After all
he was Master, the all-seeing, all-powerful, while she was the meek
vulnerable little slave. Yet as he stood caught by her, her ankles
crossed behind his waist, he felt the slave. His balls swelled and his
cock grew desperate. He tried to back off her but her little legs
clamped him harder.
“No! You wench!” he cried. Jackie cried out in pleasure. She
bounced against him. She laughed. And suddenly, with her shrieking
merrily in his ear, Master felt himself overwhelmed.
They walked up the stairs hand in hand. Though he might have
hanged her or cut her legs off, he did not. She delighted him too much
for that. Impulsively she stood on her toes and clasped him and kissed
him as they mounted the steps. He held her around her waist, easily,
feeling himself drained and conquered.
Another couple opened the cellar door as they were about to
step through it. A man, wearing a mask. A girl, her hands bound,
looking frightened. Yet Sam (for that was his real name) knew that they
would ascend the steps, quite probably, in an hour or two just as he and
Jackie were, the man in tow to the woman, she the victor, he the happy
victim. The nooses and chains and all that brooded down there served
only to frighten. To arouse a response. In the end they were as
harmless as the men themselves, reduced to a paucity of their former
vigor.
An orgy was commencing in the room where there had earlier been
a mere party. Sam spotted entangled arms and legs, groping hands, small
feet lifted and raised as girls let themselves fall prey to hairy men.
He heard sighs, muffled laughter. The females feigned disapproval of
their suitor’s behavior but gave slight resistance to their efforts.
“Come, we must join them!” Jackie said happily to Sam. She was
free with her sexuality now, liberated by his attacks on her.
“I--” Sam answered. She glanced down at his cock. He was
quite spent, though he might rise again in perhaps 20 minutes.
She leaned in against him and kissed him. “Come when you’re
ready!” she gushed. Then, her hair uncoiled and flying behind her, she
leapt into the room and settled her nude figure into the fray.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of
my Internet account(s) by right-wing Christians.
-Currently I am: roller39@mail.idt.net
-formerly I was andrewroller@sprintmail.com, roller66@inreach.com,
roller666@aol.com Read my complete works under these names by
going to: http://www.excite.com (Click on ‘newsgroups’ and search
under my various former screen names). (Also you can read irrelevant
bullshit posted by right-wing Christians.)
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
- Free plug: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-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
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /