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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Nov 11 Punished for Pleasure part 4 of 4 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PUNISHED FOR PLEASURE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Four
I sought the bed’s pillow with my face. Oh, how horrid I
felt! I was a whipped, pissed-upon whore. I rolled on my tummy, my
hands fastened behind me, my collar still clutching at my throat. I
felt like the slithering snake in Paradise, except I’d been caught and
punished for tempting Eve. And, with my cunt lips shiveringly wet
between my legs, moist with the juice of my own excitement, I was Eve
too.
A girl can be a bitch both when she’s not had any fun and when
she’s had too much of it. Despite my torments, I’d had more orgasms in
the last hour than I’d had in my entire life. So I was the latter
bitch, spoilt, and fulfilled at the same time. Now I felt sorry for
myself. My face reached the bed’s pillow and I pressed my cheeks into
it. I wanted to suffocate myself.
My hero rescued me. It was a tawdry rescue, to be sure, and
with a price to pay. Jeff tore my face from the pillow, found me
gasping, and promptly kissed me. I sighed. He kissed again, more
vigorously, and drove his tongue into my mouth.
“I love you,” he breathed. I felt his unshaven face against my
soft, 13-year-old cheeks. His tongue dueled with mine inside my mouth.
He pushed mine back. I gagged. He pushed deeper. I accepted, at last,
and he seemed to fuck me with his tongue, driving its long, thick length
deep inside my mouth. I was his. He could take me as he wished,
despite all he’d made me suffer on this awful day.
Finding me receptive, he pulled his face away. He replaced it
with his hips. I found myself staring at his penis. He proffered it to
me. The big gnarly head of it bumped my nose, dripped upon it, then
sought lower, and pushed against my lips. I opened my mouth. He placed
his dick upon my tongue. I managed to close my lips a little and gave
him a soft, moist place to spend his seed. I sucked. I urged him to
fill my mouth with himself, to impregnate me if he could, filling my
belly with his sperm.
Bridget interrupted.
“Jim,” she said, in her quiet, alluring way. She tapped him on
his shoulder with a black-gloved finger. He turned, slightly, though
not drawing his penis from my mouth. I sucked more vigorously. I
wanted him to lose the sperm-weighing contest. He would give me his all
and suffer as the loser, last among the men, having no sperm at all.
All of his seed would be swimming in my belly. I would watch him
punished then.
“Jim, you have an appointment at the stocks,” Bridget said.
Her voice spoke as if in invitation, though stocks, I knew from studying
the Puritans in school, are used on criminals. My mouth gaped in
wonder. Was I to see him punished now? Oh, joy! Gazing past his hips,
I saw the other men, waiting, as if to be punished themselves.
Bridget pulled Jim away from me. I let him go. I snapped
once, trying to recapture his penis with my lips, as a dog snaps at
flying things, then let him pass away.
Together Bridget and Jim walked over to where the other men
were waiting. I saw wood beyond them, as if a long bench was waiting to
recieve their bottoms.
It was, in fact, the stocks that I saw, not a bench. This was
a very wicked sort of stocks, as I was momentarily to find out. It did
not bind the neck, or suffer an intrusion of the hands, locking them in
place. Instead, its purpose was to lock and hold that one part of the
male anatomy that a man values above all else. It was a penis-stocks.
At once I forgot all my suffering. I was alive as a cat, eager
to see a dog thwacked for treeing me. I leapt from the bed, my boobies
bouncing freely. I made my way over to where the men were standing. I
looked down at what awaited them. It was a low bench, but with three
holes in it. Three holes cut in the wood to recieve three penises.
In fact, the “bench” was slightly more sophisticated than
that. How to describe it? Picture, first, a bench, like a park bench,
except without the back of the seat that you are accustomed to lean
against when you sit down. So, then, a bench without a back to it.
Next, think of this: a “bench,” but without a seat. Think of just a
frame. A frame where one might place a seat, but, as yet, there is no
seat, just a frame.
On the “bench” I saw, which was really a stockade for the male
penis, there was a stout frame. Indeed, the men, kneeling down, would
be placing all their weight upon the frame, and it had to be sturdy to
support them. These were big men, with bulging muscles. They would lie
heavy upon this “bench”.
Where the seat of the bench was supposed to be, picture this:
a thin piece of wood. It was split down the middle, as if someone had
sliced the bench along its middle with a saw. You can imagine the
reason for that. The men were to kneel. Each one was to insert his
penis into the “seat” of the “bench”. Then the front of the bench would
be pressed toward the back of the bench. This would cause each man’s
penis to become trapped inside the “seat” of the bench or, rather, in
the hole cut for his cock.
I shivered with excitement. To see the men forced to kneel,
and stuff themselves through such wicked little holes! They would be
like knockwurst sausages, trapped and held so they can be cut to a more
responsible size.
Carefully Bridget collared each of the men. She buckled a
thick, black collar, decorated with studs, around each man’s neck. They
waited, submissive, but stiff and hard-muscled in their submission, too
excited by her sexiness to refuse her wishes. Bridget, with her jet
black hair, her long stockings and her gloves, with her neck bound by a
scarf, looked absolutely fabulous. Who would not want to submit to the
discipline of such a wickedly feminine mistress? Often Bridget paused,
and brushed back her long hair with her hand. She smiled at the men.
She told them how perfect and huge they were, touching each man’s cock,
weighing his big balls upon her palm. It was a showering of affection
that she gave each man, even as she confined him for his punishment.
Erika helped. She cuffed Jim’s hands behind his back. Together they
teased the men, whispered to them, complimented their sexual organs,
until at last each man trembled with desire to do whatever was wished of
him, no matter how awful. Or stupid.
“Please kneel, gentlemen. I must confine each of you by your
penis,” Bridget said in her soft, whispery voice. Each man knelt. He
was helped by the females’ soft hands to insert himself into the hole in
the “seat” of the “bench”.
I gazed in wonder. I glanced at Larissa. Still wearing her
panties, her hands bound, like mine, behind her back, she was
entranced. Amber, being not cuffed, scampered around the men, hoping to
help in their confinement. But Sherry intervened, held her back. She
was too little to help. These were big men and if they were to be made
so thoroughly submissive, it had to be done with womanly teasing, not
with the mischievious, inciteful teasing of a little girl. Amber would
have induced them to chase her around the room, not to kneel.
At last each man was on his knees, bent over the bench, and
trapped by his cock in the seat of the bench. Bridget had been
thoughtful of their comfort, however, despite trapping each man by his
cock. For, under each man’s knees, she had placed a soft towel, so he
would not have to feel the hardness of the stone floor.
Nonetheless now there was to be applied to each man a certain
degree of pain. Bridget made each man spread his legs. Erika knelt
behind each man’s bottom and placed a “spreader bar” between his
ankles. Thus spread, his legs apart, each man couldn’t help but show
off the heavy sac of his balls.
Bridget walked over to a low table. She picked up a wooden
paddle. It was the size of a ping pong paddle. But it was thicker, and
with holes drilled in it, to allow it to move faster through the air.
“Now, gentlemen, I’m going to swat each of you,” Bridget
explained to the men. “Not on your asses, however.” She giggled. “You
three might be asses, especially for letting me trap you by your dicks.
But it isn’t your asses I’m going to punish. No, I want you to remember
this night. So, to punish you in a memorable way, I’m going to confine
my swats to your balls.”
“What?!” Walter yelled.
“Erika, this is silly,” Nick said.
“If you damage my balls I’ll cut you into pieces,” Jeff warned
Bridget. “With a whip.”
Bridget answered Jeff’s remark by putting her paddle between
his thighs. She caught his balls on the end of her paddle and lifted
them up.
“Ah, darling,” she said. “Damage your balls? Such big, heavy
balls as this? Why, I’m a girl. I shouldn’t wish to damage such a
masculine treasure as these. You’re to be tormented, that’s all. And
milked, too. That’s why they call this the “milking bench”. Erika,
would you please play milk maid? Slip under the bench and pull upon the
men’s penises. Take a cup for each. I shall need to weigh his
donation, to see which man wins the sperm contest.
I remembered then the golden scales she’d showed us at the
evening’s beginning. The time had cum for each man to give of himself,
and be weighed, and to see if he had more sperm than his fellows.
“Give all you have,” Bridget told the men. She picked up a
cone-shaped object from the table near the bench. “I shall have to
shove this solid enema up the ass of the man who gives the least sperm.
Don’t hold back! The loser shall be made a fag, forced to accept a plug
up his ass. Then he shall shortly have to do number two, also, while
everyone laughs at how foolish he looks, squatting and having diarrhea.
“You are a wicked woman,” Jim breathed. He feared, I think,
losing, for he’d spermed me earlier in the evening. I felt a sudden
wish to see him win. Though it would have been a delight to see him
sodomized, if it were just he and I, we were not alone together. Alone,
we might have played all kinds of games, including ones where he was
made foolish and submissive. But here I wished him declared the best of
all men.
“Come on, Jim!” I called out to him. “Fill the cup!”
Erika slipped underneath the bench. She had three cups with
her. Each one was made of fine crystal. How curious this dungeon was,
with its jewelled cat, its place settings for tea, its wicked devices,
and its crystal cups and golden scale. I felt a shiver run through me.
A place like this turned wickedness to pleasure, and made pleasure
wicked. My bottom felt sore. It was coated with the men’s dry pee.
Yet I felt excited, alive. I wished I had a cock so I might be trapped
alongside the men, forced to receive the paddle, forced to spend. Being
a girl, I had to content myself with rubbing my thighs, and feeling my
pussy wetten.
Amber, her hands free, made use of her fingers. She watched
the men with amorous eyes. She stuck a finger in her snatch and diddled
her slit.
“Amber!” Bridget scolded. She waved her paddle at the girl.
“Don’t play with yourself. It’s naughty.”
“I can’t help it!” Amber confessed. “The men are to be
milked! Oh, don’t hit their balls too hard.”
Erika, I saw, lying under the bench, placed a finger in her own
snatch. At the same time, she slid a cup under Walter’s penis. She
played with her slit. Then, moistening, she lifted her honey-coated
fingers and curled them wetly around Walter’s dick. In her case, at
least, she was using her moisture as lubrication. Amber was just
masturbating.
“SWAT!” The paddle made a loud crack. The men flinched. But
the paddle had connected with Amber’s bottom, not with the men.
“Oh, Boo! Hoo!” Amber wailed. She danced, red-bottomed, upon
her toes. She reminded me of Tinker Bell as she jumped about, her
golden hair flying.
“Amber, don’t diddle with your slit,” Bridget warned the girl.
“Simply watch, and behave.”
“Shall I put her in cuffs?” Sherry asked Bridget.
“Oh, I don’t want to wear handcuffs again!” Amber cried. She
darted away. She ran to a big machine used to draw and quarter people,
from the looks of it, and hid her small body behind it. I was reminded
of a kitty hiding from evil boys.
I glanced at Larissa. She was as excited as I by the spectacle
of the men. She moaned. She rubbed her thighs together, fruitlessly,
as I was doing, wishing she could make herself cum. I envied her
panties. She was the last of us to remain modest. They looked pretty
and white upon her hips. I was bare-bushed, showing my private to all
who cared to glance upon it. I felt like an animal. My tits hung free,
my legs worked uselessly against themselves. My cunny wetted itself but
had nothing to receive within it.
Larissa saw me scissoring my thighs together and smiled. It
was a smile of one consoling a friend. We were best friends. How silly
we looked, what trouble had we gotten ourselves into! We were
bare-breasted, trapped in an underground dungeon with men we hardly
knew, and with women who used us in wicked ways. She was clad in the
smallest of panties and I was bare-hipped. Oh, girlfriend! If only
we’d listened to our mothers. And yet, and yet...
“SLAP!” My gaze was torn away from Larissa. The men! Bridget
had slapped Walter between his legs, right on his balls.
“Ouch!” Walter yelled. Erika, underneath the bench, pulled on
his cock.
“Milk him,” Amber, watching from behind the machine used to
draw and quarter people, urged. I saw her finger working furtively in
her slit.
“Cum... cum in the cup,” Erika told Walter. “Now is the time
to give all you have, to win the sperm-weighing contest.” Erika
moaned. She drew up her knees. She was as passion-infused as I, gazing
at the men in such a compromised pose. She drew her hand from Walter’s
cock and excitedly frigged herself. Then, moaning again, unfilled and
wishing to cum, but not yet able to, she returned her moistened fingers
to Walter’s cock and pulled hard upon it.
Bridget glanced at Amber, hiding behind the big machine where
any of us, on a whim, might be drawn and quartered. She frowned.
“If you’re going to play with yourself, you may as well milk
one of the men,” Bridget said to the 12-year-old girl. “Get under the
milking bench.”
“Oh, noooo, they are too big,” Amber replied. She was ever
wilful. Yet even as she whined that she couldn’t, she stepped out from
behind the big machine where she’d been hiding. With a finger rubbing
her slit, her other finger poised at her mouth, like a curious child,
she advanced toward the milking bench. Bridget glared at her. Erika
desisted pulling on Walter, so that a race might be run, between his
cock and that of another man’s.
Amber dropped to her knees. Looking very much like a small
cat, she gazed at the cocks poking down through the milking bench. She
sniffed, wiggling her nose. Then she crawled forward to the bench, lay
down, and slipped underneath. A mechanic about to go to work on engines
and pistons, I thought. She chose Jim’s cock, arguably the biggest of
the lot.
I felt a surge of jealousy in me. I could just see Jim, my
favorite, falling for the little 12-year-old brat. Little Amber, with
her too tight panties and her fetching bra (both long gone now, but
still undeniably cute, in memory). She would win Jim over with her
winsome ways and her childish demeanor. They would go off into a
romantic sunset together, where’d they play Chutes and Ladders between
wild bouts of balling.
I walked forward to the bench. Amber’s long legs were sticking
out from underneath it. I bent over, dropped to my knees. I looked
back at Bridget and pleadingly raised up my wrists.
“Please, let me milk too,” I begged.
Sherry looked at Bridget. The raven-haired woman considered,
then nodded.
“Undo her,” Bridget told Sherry. “We shall have a three man
race then.”
“Thanks!” I heard Amber, under the bench, say to Erika. I
guessed the 12-year-old had been given a cup to hold Jim’s sperm.
Sherry walked forward, her big bosoms bouncing as she stepped,
and bent down behind me. I heard a click. I wriggled my hands and felt
the cuffs come apart. At last! I was a free woman again. I pulled my
hands in front of me. I rubbed my wrists.
“Get under and milk,” Sherry reminded me.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. I slipped under the bench.
“I’m doing Jim,” Amber said to me.
“Then that means you can’t do Nick,” I answered. I pretended
to sound glad of having Nick, though I was secretly quite jealous that
she’d gotten hold of Jim.
“Oh, I want to milk too!” I heard my friend Larissa cry.
Bridget laughed. “We are all out of penises, my dear,” she
answered. “Anyway there must be a prize. You still retain your
panties, and look most virginal, especially with your cuffs on. You
must be the prize, dear. Now be quiet or you’ll have a red bottom to go
with your pretty white panties.”
“Oh, me!” Larissa said. But she said no more, for none of us
doubted Bridget’s delight in flagellation.
“Now, men,” I heard Bridget intone. “The girls are going to do
everything they can to get you to spend. Suck, yank, whatever. You
must hold on as long as possible. The first to spill will have his ass
paddled. The one who shoots the least amount of sperm will have himself
sodomised, with an enema cone.” Bridget laughed. “And, of course, in
the meantime, don’t think you can just relax and enjoy all the attention
you’re going to get. I’ll be spurring your balls on, by giving them
gentle, urging whacks with my wooden paddle.”
“Oook! He dwipped on my nose!” Amber shouted. I glanced at
her. What was she doing? Didn’t she know anything?
“You must get the cup under him!” I told her. “Put the cup
Erika gave you under Jim’s penis.” I reached around Amber’s head and
took a cup from Erika. We were like three female gas station
attendants, all ready to pump.
“My cup rolled away,” Amber said. She scooted out from under
the bench. She went scurrying across the floor to retrieve her cup. I
shifted to my left. I would have Jim’s penis!
“No, no, Barbi,” I heard Bridget warn. “I know you like Jim.
Stay with Nick. You’d give Jim an easy ride, so he can shoot last.
Stay with Nick and pump him hard. This must be a fair fight between the
men. We’ll have no favors, save those you bestow, most lustily, with
your hands and lips.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. I felt crestfallen. Yet there was
nothing I could do. Erika wouldn’t want me favoring Jim, at the expense
of Nick. Little Amber scooted back under the bench and stuck her tongue
out at me.
“Jim’s mine!” she told me. I blushed. I felt angry. I wanted
to pinch her but feared she’d just pinch back, and then we’d both be in
trouble with Bridget.
“Are you ready, girls?” Bridget called. “Make sure your cups
are in position. Touch your cunnies as you need to, for lubrication.”
Erika glanced at Amber, and at myself. “We’re ready, Bridget,”
she called.
“Very good. Begin,” Bridget replied.
“OHHHHH!” Amber moaned, for at once she diddled in her slit,
wishing to masturbate herself at least as much as she wished to frig
Jim.
I yanked hard on Nick’s cock and heard him yelp.
“Cum,” I breathed. I blew on Nick’s penis and then fastened my
lips to it and sucked it. I held my cup ready, to receive him when he
spurted.
Erika licked Walter as if he were a lollipop.
Like milkmaids at a festival, the three of us worked the men’s
dicks. I pinched Nick. I swabbed the whole length of his big cock with
my tongue. I blew my hot breath upon him, hoping to make him shoot.
Amber clasped Jim with her honeyed fingers and rubbed him. Up
and down, up and down her little fingers moved, as if trying to pull a
big worm down through the hole cut for Jim’s cock in the bench.
Erika lifted her long blonde hair and rubbed it softly across
Walter’s penis.
“Cum,” I heard Erika urge. She liked Nick best, I think, and
hoped to make Walter lose. In the same way I, liking Jim best, hoped to
make Nick lose. And little Amber, not caring for any man in particular,
simply enjoyed the challenge of giving a man’s cock a vigorous workout.
“THWACK!” I heard. Bridget had landed her paddle upon one of
the men’s balls. I heard him groan as his testicles felt the shock of
wood upon flesh.
“THWACK!” Another man received a blow to his balls.
“THWACK!” I felt Nick flinch in my hands and heard him moan.
Bridget had given him a taste of her paddle.
“Ohhh, such a harsh smack!” I heard Sherry exclaim.
Spontaneously, responding to the pained groans of the men, she dropped
to her knees behind Jim. She knelt and put her soft lips to his balls.
At the same time, so that he wasn’t primed to shoot before the rest, she
reached out, spreading her arms, and clasped in her soft hands the balls
of Walter and Nick. I felt Nick’s cock jerk in my hands as he was
forced to endure the soft ministrations of Sherry’s fingers upon his
nuts. Sherry must have felt him jerk too, for she asked, in a rather
mocking tone of voice, “Mmmmm, yes, does that make your big balls feel
better?”
“WHACK!” I heard, and Jim flinched again, but I found he’d not
been struck, for it was Sherry who let out a moan.
“Get your fat ass out of the way,” Bridget scolded the
big-breasted blonde. “You can attend to them later, after they’ve each
shot their load.”
“Ohhh, I was just trying to be helpful!” Sherry said. I heard
her voice break into a sob. She rose, retreated. Bridget ruled us
all. She was not to be crossed. Somewhere beyond I heard Larissa give
a plaintive moan. It was half desperate, as if she wished to cum, and
half frightened, too, fearing Bridget and what would happen to her when
she was awarded as a prize to the winning man. For my own part, sucking
cock, I was too lost in desire to care for her fate, or my own. I
played in my slit and, finding my fingers moist, applied them to Nick’s
cock. We were three bell-hipped maidens, Erika and Amber and I, all
with wettened cunts, eager to please ourselves and, naughtily, to make
the men shoot into our special crystal cups.
Above me I heard Nick groan. Then Jim, then Nick again, and
finally Walter. The men strove to restrain themselves. I could tell,
though, as Nick’s penis quavered hotly over my face, that he was rapidly
losing his self control. I glanced at Jim’s cock, poised over Amber’s
face. Yes, he looked unbearably swollen and stiff, stiffer even than
when I first slid under the bench. He looked to be on the brink of
cumming. I prayed he might hang on. I wished him to win.
Somewhere I heard a man scream. Then, seconds later, Erika let
out a whoop of joy. I glanced to one side and saw white sperm spurt
from Walter’s cock. He’d lost! My heart sang. Jim would not have to
suffer a sharp, cone-shaped enema shoved up his butt. I yanked hard on
Nick’s member. Come on, Nick. Shoot your load into my face, so that
Jim, my love, can triumph over all the men.
“YEEEEEK!” Amber shrieked.
I turned my head. To my horror, I saw that Jim was spurting.
Worse, Amber hadn’t got her cup under him. He showered her face with
sperm. It spewed across her nose, her eyes, her cheeks. Foolishly the
girl tried catching it on her lips. Still, the cup remained lying
between her breasts, quite empty, sperm spouting everywhere but where
she was supposed to be catching it.
“The cup!” I cried to Amber. “Catch him in your cup!”
“Ooook! I can’t! There’s too much of him,” Amber answered.
Her voice sounded burbled, as one trying to speak under water. Indeed,
she looked like she was taking a shower, there was so much cum spurting
suddenly from Jim’s dick. It lathered her face and fell into sticky
clumps into her soft blonde hair.
“Oh, my! You’ll make him lose!” I wailed. I grabbed her cup
from between her small 12-year-old tits and rammed it up under Jim’s
penis.
“Whew! Thanks! I was drowding,” Amber said. I glared at her.
“You were only drowning because you didn’t have your cup
ready,” I told her.
“It’s not my fault. His penis is too big. I need to handle a
penis of someone my own age, if I’m to control it properly,” Amber
said. “He’s a growed man, with a growed man’s penis. I’m too little to
handle it properly.”
I was about to speak a reply, scolding her, when suddenly a
shower of sperm erupted from the penis over my face.
“Nick!” I cried. I was aghast. I’d been busy with Amber’s
cup. I hadn’t even been touching him! Perhaps our words, perhaps
Amber’s saucy comments, had inspired him to cum.
I grabbed for my cup. Amber saw my predicament and laughed. I
managed to get my cup under Nick’s cock. I held it there as he
discharged.
“You didn’t do any better than me,” Amber said.
“Shut up,” I answered.
Wet-fingered, with dewy slits, Erika and Amber and I emerged
from beneath the milking bench. We gave our cups to Bridget. She
scolded Amber. The 12-year-old’s face was drenched in sperm, yet she
had caught none of Jim’s cum in her cup. Amber repeated her excuse that
she was too little to handle a “growed man’s” penis.
I gave what I had to Bridget, blushing. Nick had caught me off
guard.
“Well, I can see this won’t be much of a contest,” Bridget
said, looking at our cups. “Thanks to Erika’s expert handling, it looks
as if Walter has won. He’s given the most sperm... the most that I can
measure, anyway,” she said. She glanced at Amber. The sperm-soaked
girl flushed and gazed down over her breasts at her toes. Cum from
Jim’s cock ran from her cheeks down her neck to her chest, then on to
her bosoms. It dripped off the nippled tips of her mammaries to speckle
her feet.
Bridget had three gold-colored pans waiting next to her scale.
Carefully she poured what she could from each cup into a pan. Then, in
turn, she weighed each pan on her scale.
“Yep, Walter’s the winner in the content department,” Bridget
said. “But he came first. So in addition to getting Larissa for his
prize, he gets this cone-shaped enema up his butt.”
“No way,” Walter protested. He made to rise from his kneeling
position over the bench. With his cock deflated, he was no longer
trapped.
“Down, boy!” Bridget shouted. Her high-pitched commaned was
accompanied by a swift crack of the paddle across Walter’s behind.
“Yeeeehooo!” Walter shouted. Amber, gazing on him, clutched
her own bottom, perhaps in memory of her own contact with the paddle.
“Sherry, help me lube his bottom,” Bridget told the frail
blonde with the big curls.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sherry answered. She fetched a tube of
lubrication and advanced on the big man. She knelt down behind him.
She patted the cheeks of his ass with her soft palm. “Don’t worry, it
won’t hurt *too* much,” Sherry said. I couldn’t tell if her soft voice
had a note of mockery in it. I shivered. Amber kept her hands clapped
to her bottom, lest someone get the same idea for her.
Being enemized placed Walter in a special category. He could
no longer walk around the dungeon with bare-bottomed impunity. A solid
enema dissolves in the rectum and makes one shit intermittantly for
hours. It was for this reason that, once the enema had been shoved up
his behind, Walter was diapered. Amber couldn’t stop giggling at seeing
the man so attired. Bridget used cloth diapers on him, with traditional
pins. She powdered his hairy ass with baby powder before pinning the
diapers on him. Walter groused, disliking the merriment his predicament
gave us. But in the end he took his punishment like a soldier and,
though he looked quite ridiculous, I found I admired his sportsmanship.
Another man, big as he was, might have simply refused. But Walter wore
his diapers like a trooper, and when the men were all uncuffed, he
didn’t try to disrobe himself. My only regret, looking upon him, was
that when he became hard again, his dick bulged in concealment beneath
the diaper cloth, rather than standing up freely as Nick and Jim’s
penises did.
Larissa, cuffed and collared and retaining still her white
panties, was presented to Walter. He grinned, kissed her, and told her
she would be “balled to Heaven and back again” when his cock
resuscitated itself. She blushed, modestly, for which I was most proud
of her, given how much she’d been dying to finger herself during the
men’s milking. Walter put a hand to her pussy and rubbed her, gently,
to keep her wet and ready. In the event, when he did reawaken, he held
off fucking her, for he would soon be making poop in his diapers and
didn’t want to spoil their fuck together by shitting on her.
Jim and myself and Bridget and Amber and the rest of us
retreated to the soothing waters of the jacuzzi for a well-deserved
soak. Walter sat outside, on a wooden bench, watching us. Larissa,
still in her white panties, sat beside him. He stroked her long hair.
She sat submissive, her head bowed, her hands still fastened behind her
back. Yet I perceived that she was looking mainly at his crotch, and
watching as it began to bulge.
“Go ahead and poop in your diapers, when you feel the need,”
Bridget told Walter. “Sherry or I will change you.”
“Fine. Whatever,” Walter answered. “I still think it was a
stupid idea to ram an enema up my ass.”
“Nonsense. You look very cute in them,” Bridget said.
“Yeah. All you need is a pacifier,” Amber giggled.
“Amber, don’t tease,” Bridget told the 12-year-old. “You look
barely big enough to be out of diapers yourself.”
“What?!” Amber cried.
I put my arm around her small, frail shoulders. I pressed my
body close to hers, in the jacuzzi. The water was warm. I liked the
bubbles. They lifted my breasts and kept the tips of my nipples perky.
“Shhhh. Be good,” I said to Amber. She turned her face to
me. I expected her to scold me, but instead she kissed my cheek.
“I like you,” Amber said. I think the jaccuzzi was making her
amorous, for I felt her hand slip between my thighs and rub my snatch.
“Amber!” I cried. I jumped. I had not expected her to molest
me.
“You do mine and I’ll do yours,” Amber offered. She rubbed me
more deeply.
“Ohhhh, it is--” I glanced at Bridget.
“It is alright,” Bridget replied. She moved and, I thought,
passed her own hand across the belly of Sherry, sitting beside her.
Sherry, her eyes closed, started, then seemed to widen her legs beneath
the bubbling water.
“Mmmmm,” Sherry said. She let her long lashes flutter closed
again.
“Let us play,” Bridget smiled at me. “And don’t forget, you
two, there are still bottom-exercises for you to perform, before we
leave.”
“Oh I don’t want things rammed up my ass,” Amber said.
“Me neither,” I answered. I felt her tummy. I dipped lower,
found her snatch. I played in her tight private.
“Yeeeech!” Amber gritted. It was a sound of pleasure, however,
and she opened her legs more completely, to receive me.
“Say, you have quite a big one,” Nick said to Jim.
“Yours is no slouch either,” Jim answered. I felt my eyes
widen. Still diddling Amber, I glanced over my shoulder. My God! Were
Jim and Nick feeling each others’ cocks, under the water?
“Yes, let us relax and enjoy,” Bridget said. She looked
through lidded eyes at Erika. “You, my dear, are one out, in our new
little game.”
“Not if I suck your tits,” Erika answered. She moved close to
the woman. She grasped at the woman’s bosoms where they floated on the
water, and bent to nuzzle them.
“Come and play with us!” Jim told Erika.
“No,” Erika answered, placing her lips to Bridget’s tits. “You
men play with each other for a change. It is good to see you men
peaceful, for once, and molesting each other. Explore your cocks
together and let us girls play with each other.”
And that is just what happened. We girls diddled and kissed
each other while the men felt each other. It was pleasant, I thought,
my soft sighs joining those of the others as I was brought to a climax.
My own fingers, digging deep in Amber’s tight snatch, brought her off.
Bridget and Erika and Sherry played with each other. And the men,
frigging each other with their calloused palms, shot new loads of cum
into the hot, bubbling water. Walter, meanwhile, put Larissa over his
lap. He entertained us by giving her a spanking. She cried, we
sighed. It was most unusual but quite fulfilling, except perhaps for
Larissa who was left with a red bottom. Walter did, however, rub her
pussy with his free hand. She exploded in a series of loud orgasms even
as his palm flayed her bare ass.
When all was done, when everyone had shivered and spent,
Bridget asked Walter if he’d pooped in his diapers yet.
“Yeah. While I was spanking her,” Walter answered.
“ICK! I can smell him,” Amber said, holding her nose.
“Be polite, Amber,” Bridget told the girl. “Else I’ll make you
change his diapers.”
“NOOOO!” Amber cried. She leapt from the hot tub and scurried
off into the dungeon. Later, as we still sat soaking, enjoying the
bubbles, Bridget spied Amber heading for the dungeon’s exit.
“Don’t leave, dear, without permission,” Bridget warned the
girl. “There’s much in here you’ve not been put upon, and the men would
love nothing more than a girl who legitimately needs to be tortured.”
“Oh, me!” Amber cried. She cast a worried glance back at us,
hesistated by the dungeon’s exit, and then ran and threw herself upon
the big bed. Bridget smiled at the men. They smiled at her.
“Pity she didn’t run off,” Nick said. I cast a worried glance
at him. Did he really mean it? Would he really have liked to see her
tortured? For real? I couldn’t tell, and looked at the empty place
beside me where Amber had been sitting. I wavered between going to the
bed and joining her, and staying in the jacuzzi. I liked Amber.
Sometimes I regarded her as nothing but a childish brat, but at the
moment I liked her. We’d had fun together. It had been naughty fun,
diddling each others’ slits, but it had been permitted, down here in the
dungeon, and we’d enjoyed each other to the full. I could still feel
her kisses on my cheeks. She was sweet. I suspected she’d peed in the
jaccuzzi, while she sat beside me, but I liked her nonetheless.
I let myself float in the warm water. It lifted my young
breasts and made a present of them on the water’s surface, for whoever
wished to possess them. Sherry floated over to me and, in what I
considered a compliment, considering the beauty of her own breasts, she
nibbled like a fish upon mine. I swooned. Bridget and Erika finished
fulfilling each other; Erika got out and served us drinks.
When I came into possession of myself again, I was still in the
tub, with a flute of champagne in my hand that I could only barely
remember being given by Erika. Sherry had one too. She snuggled close
to me. She put her glass to my lips and made me sip from it. She urged
me to return the compliment. I did. She drank from my glass as a child
might, spilling a little. I felt motherly, yet childish at the same
time, for after she drank from my glass I drank from hers again, and
spilled some on my bouyant tits.
The men, normally utterly masculine, continued to frisk each
others’ genitals beneath the water. They’d already induced each other
to cum once. Now they were playing at it again, a game of chicken, “can
I make you shoot before you make me shoot.” Of course, the rub was,
neither of them really wanted to cum, despite their desire, for they
could only spend themselves so many times before they’d be useless to us
girls.
I let my eyes drift over to Larissa. Someone had pulled
Walter’s cock from his diapers and bathed it in champagne to make it
sparkling clean. Larissa was perched on his knee. She had quite a red
bottom from the spanking he’d given her. Yet her face was pressed to
his, and her mouth was opened worshipfully to his. He fed in her mouth
with his tongue.
I could hear Amber singing a song. She was hiding under the
covers of the big bed that awaited us all, should we choose to make use
of it.
Walter took his mouth from Larissa’s and whispered something in
her ear. She nodded. She slipped down from his lap. He rose, his cock
heavy and thick with desire. She took a towel from a big pile and laid
it upon the floor. She looked up at him. He nodded. She knelt on the
towel and bent forward until her face made contact with the floor.
“Oh, God,” I heard Bridget say. It was a sigh of desire. I
felt a quiver run down my spine. What was to happen? Larissa was
kneeling, quite submissively, her bottom reared up high in the air as if
she wished to be mounted. Was she pretending to be a horse?
Walter did not sit himself on her rump. Instead, he knelt down
behind her. His big cock bounced off the hemispheres of her ass.
Larissa wiggled. She scrunched her knees closer to her tits as she
knelt, so that her ass thrust even higher into the air. It was almost
level with Walter’s waist.
Erika, who’d just served Amber a drink, set down her tray and
came running over to where Larissa was kneeling.
“Oh, you must both be properly lubed,” Erika said. She placed
a finger upon Walter’s shoulder. “Wait,” she said. Then she dashed
over to a small table where oils and unguents and condoms lay in a
pretty display. She returned with a large squirt tube of petroleum
jelly. “This will do,” she said. As I watched, she squeezed the tube
with both of her hands, aiming it at Walter’s penis. A gob of jelly
squirted out. It decorated his pee hole. Then Erika passed the tube up
and down along Walter’s cock. When she was finished his organ glistened
with goop. It looked as if she’d varnished it. Erika leaned forward
and placed a long, loving kiss on Walter’s mouth. Her bare breasts
rubbed against his chest.
“Now for her hole,” Erika said, breaking their kiss. She spoke
of Larissa as if she were nothing but an upturned ass. She put a palm
to Larissa’s right bottomcheek. Lightly she rubbed it. Larissa gave a
sigh. Then Erika yanked hard on the cheek, pulling it away from the
other. Larissa yelped, but Erika paid her no attention. Instead she
jammed the tip of the squirt bottle into Larissa’s hiney and gave a
vigorous squeeze on the tube.
“Ooooh!” Larissa squealed. She raised her face, looked at me
with blank eyes. Then she settled her face back on the floor. Erika
jabbed a finger within the tightness of Larissa’s bottom. My friend
jerked, sqealed again, but accepted the finger, finally, letting it work
in her hole and widen her for Walter’s entry.
I had no illusions now about what was to happen. My girlfriend
was, indeed, to be ridden, but in the way a man rides a woman to
victory, his cock hard, deep-thrusting, her body receiving him in the
most intimate orifice she has. Sherry rubbed my muff and then passed
her hand around behind me and felt my own bottom.
“You’re next,” she whispered merrily in my ear. I felt a
thrill of delight, mixed with intense fright.
“I cannot!” I breathed. I knew of what she spoke. The
sawhorses, with one end elevated above the other, waiting with pricks
upstanding from the lower end of each horse. Sherry’s index finger
wedged itself between the cheeks of my bottom.
“You must,” she answered. I didn’t know what to do. I let her
dig more deeply within my ass, gave a sharp, gutteral cry as she pushed
hard inside me.
“Have you?” I heard Jim say to Nick. “It’s a simple question.”
“Have I what?” Nick answered.
“You know,” Jim said. He seemed to be trying to wedge himself
behind the male who floated in the hot tub beside him.
“You mean--?” Nick asked.
“Yeah,” Jim said.
“No way,” Nick said. He pulled away from Jim and sat squarely
on the submerged bench lining the inside of the tub. “Not with a man,
anyway. Maybe someday with a girl.”
“Girls don’t have dicks,” Jim grinned.
“Well, she can put on a fake one then,” Nick answered.
“Gentlemen, are you speaking of sodomy?” Bridget asked.
“He is. I’m not,” Nick answered. He nodded toward Jim. I
felt myself blush, even as Sally worked her finger deeper in my bottom.
Oh, how embarrassing this all was! Me being fingered intimately by a
female, as my love, Jim, made untoward advances on Nick. Anyplace but
here, we wouldn’t have acted in such a ridiculous way. But here, things
were free. People could follow their fancy wherever it might lead.
“Oh, don’t!” I yelped. Sherry kissed my cheek, but kept her
finger up me.
Jim looked in our direction. “What are you two doing over
there?” he asked. He frowned. I felt myself blush even more deeply.
“None of your business, dear. Yet--” Sherry smiled. She
winked at him. He grinned.
“Keeping her hot for me, eh?” Jim asked.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Sherry said. “Play with your
penis a little longer. We’re not quite ready for you yet.”
“Okay,” Jim said. He settled back on the bench in the jacuzzi
and freely handled himself. I couldn’t see directly, but it wasn’t too
hard to figure out. He gave a sigh, his arm worked beneath the water.
“Don’t shoot though,” Sherry warned.
“Alright,” Jim sighed. Nick relaxed next to his friend and
began masturbating his own organ. Sherry jabbed deeper into me. I
squealed. The men, Bridget, Sherry, and Erika laughed. All but
Larissa, who was getting fingered within her bottom by Erika. And
Amber, who lay rabbit-like beneath the covers of the big bed.
“Ooooh, no one will screw by bottom!” Amber called from beneath
the covers where she was hiding.
Erika withdrew her finger from Larissa’s behind. She turned to
Walter. She gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Alright, darling, put
yourself in her,” Erika said to Walter. He tensed. It would be a job,
I realized, shoving himself up my friend, not spending, despite her
tightness, sluicing in and out of her until, after an appropriate
interval, he was allowed by the protocol of the act to spend. We would
be watching, even me, with Sherry’s finger up my ass, and we would all
be judging his performance. Larissa had only to receive, and endure.
Walter had to perform. He had to show himself a well-controlled man. A
thought occurred to me. In their riding, was she the steed, or was he?
It rather seemed to me, as I watched his muscles contract, as I saw him
mount her, and begin to take her, that Walter might be the faithful,
obdient horse, made to run a set course. Larissa might be, despite her
subordinate position, the rider. She was riding his cock with her
bottom. She might, indeed, squeeze upon him and control him, if she had
the skill (which I doubted). He would serve. She would be serviced.
Larissa shouted. Her face bolted up. She tried to rise.
Walter gripped her manfully with his hands, by her hips. Shoving his
own hips forward, he stabbed into the softness of her behind. She
accepted his organ with the greatest of difficulty. He was large. She
was small-bottomed and only 13. I shivered, watching it. Sherry’s
finger, up my ass, held itself in me like a wicked promise.
Amber peeped from under the bedcovers and watched as the
obscene act progressed. Larissa was taken; brutally, I thought, though
she didn’t bleed afterward. Walter humped her like a mad horse. She
cried beneath him, yet kept her bottom valiantly upraised, receiving
him, sighing and jerking and screaming under his assault. Nick and Jim
watched from the sidelines. They used their own fists, within the warm
water of the jaccuzzi, to imitate the clenching of Larissa’s
bottomcheeks upon their cocks. I watched, breathless, Sherry’s finger
still in me, moving slightly, making me take more of her as we watched
together. Bridget sipped her drink. She looked content. Everything
that was happening met with her approval. Erika fetched more champagne
and refilled all our glasses.
Time floated on, accompanied by the pained cries of Larissa
receiving Walter up her ass. Afterward she rejoined us in the jacuzzi.
Erika changed Walter’s diapers. She washed down his bottom with
champagne.
“How was it?” I asked Larissa. She snuggled between myself and
Sherry in the tub. Sherry’s finger was no longer in my bottom; she’d
withdrawn it when Larissa had finished jousting with Walter.
Larissa bit her lip. “It was... it was big,” she said. “It
hurt.”
“But not too much?” Sherry asked. Larissa nodded.
“Not so much I couldn’t bear it,” Larissa said, in what I
regarded as a slightly pained voice. Sherry kissed her cheek.
“Good,” Sherry said.
Amber had gotten out of the bed. She went exploring in the
dungeon. A little while after Larissa had gotten butt-fucked, the girl
came wandering up to Bridget, who soaked still in the jacuzzi, with the
rest of us.
Amber was holding up a large dildo. She showed it to Bridget.
“Look what I found,” she told the raven-haired woman. We all
gazed at the dildo. I saw that it had threads at its base, as if to
permit it to be screwed into something.
Bridget sipped her drink. She regarded the mostrous object
with casual eyes.
“It looks like it belongs to something bigger,” she told
Amber. “Where did you find it? You shouldn’t be taking the equipment
apart without permission.”
“I didn’t unscrew it from anything. It was just lying under a
big machine,” Amber answered. “It and a whole lot of other ones, bigger
and smaller. Just like this one. Plus pieces of wood,” Amber said.
Bridget looked at Jim. He looked at Nick.
“Something we overlooked?” Jim asked Nick.
“Who knows? There’s all kinds of shit down here,” Walter,
lying on the floor with Erika, kissing her, answered. He was wearing a
fresh pair of diapers. His old pair laid crumpled in a corner, waiting
to be taken upstairs.
“Let me go see,” Erika said. She got up.
“Hey!” Walter cried. He lifted his arm. He tried to grab her
and keep her beside him. But he was slow. She was quick. She darted
away, her bosoms bouncing, her hips waggling in a sexy display both of
invitation and disdain.
“Show me where you found the dildo, darling,” Erika told Amber.
“Okay,” Amber said.
I pressed my cheek to Larissa’s. My hand rubbed her tummy.
The waters of the jaccuzzi bubbled around us.
“There are too many penises down here already, and Amber’s busy
finding more,” I said to Larissa.
“I know,” Larissa agreed. She kissed my cheek. We were best
friends. Sherry floated nearby. We excluded her by snuggling so close
to each other. ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd,’ I thought ruefully,
for I didn’t like it that Sherry had put her finger up my ass. Let her
go put her finger up Bridget’s ass, if she wished to entertain herself
that way.
“Oh, my!” I heard Erika shout, from deep in the dungeon.
“Amber’s found a whole ‘nother group of sawhorses... disassembled
sawhorses,” Erika called out. Bridget perked up. Her face brightened.
“In that case,” Bridget said, twirling her flute of champagne
in her fingers. “In that case we can have a race!” She darted her eyes
to mine.
“Noooo,” I said. I sank low in the jaccuzzi and tried to hide
from her eyes behind my friend, Larissa.
We lay on the big bed. Just Amber and me, our hips bumping as
we watched. I was on my tummy. She was also. We were nude. Our hair,
toweled dry, fanned across our backs in long, blonde strands. Erika sat
on the edge of the bed. She brushed our hair. Our naked bottoms stuck
up behind us like ripe peaches.
The men, naked and toweled dry like ourselves, worked to set up
the second group of trestles. They set it up beside the first group so
Amber and I could have a race. I wasn’t fond of the idea and neither, I
think, was Amber. But it was fun watching the men. They grunted, their
muscles flexed, as they arranged the trestles for us. The pieces of
wood were big and heavy. Their tops were covered with leather. They
had to be set up, polished, the dildos installed. Sherry waxed the
leather part of each trestle as it was set up. She passed a feather
duster over the wooden parts. As each dildo was screwed into place, she
oiled it.
Erika groomed myself and Amber. We were powdered, perfumed.
Lipstick was applied to our lips. Eyeliner to our eyes. We must look
our very best, Erika said, for our race. Even if it was a race where we
would be mounting dildos with our bottoms.
Amber shivered beside me. She looked pretty, all lipsticked
and mascared. She fluttered her eyelashes at me.
“I’m scared,” she confessed.
“I am too,” I answered.
“Nonsense, there’s nothing to be scared of,” Erika scolded,
brushing our hair. “It’s good for girls to exercise their bottoms.
You’re both young... you need the training.” Erika was slim and
althetic and skilled with men. I wondered if she had mounted the
trestles, on another day, guessed she had. She was adept at all things,
especially in the realm of sex. Bridget supervised the men. She cast
glances at us, too, keeping Amber and me in our place. We must be
obedient. I gazed at the men’s cocks as they worked. They were erect,
stiff; like the dildos. Their balls swung between their legs like
churchbells.
When the trestles were all set up and gleamed in waiting,
Bridget beckoned Amber and I off the bed. Only a slap from Erika’s
hand, on our upturned bottoms, got us moving. We lined up next to the
bed and Bridget gazed down at us. Our titties hung nakedly on our
chests, tips upstanding, but she ignored them. She gazed at our bushes,
then walked behind us and looked at our asses.
“You both have plump, firm behinds and its time you learned how
to really use them,” Bridget told us. “You must learn to take things up
them, for that is what men desire of young bottoms like yours. But
first, we shall do some exercises, to help you both stretch yourselves,
and prepare your pumpkins for what must follow. Attend, girls!”
Amber and I were led over to a space that had been cleared just
for the purpose. Soft towels covered the floor. A chair for each of us
stood near the towels. We were collared, but otherwise free. Even our
leashes had been removed. We walked with a precise step, conscious of
our bodies. I felt pride in my figure. I was slim, yet fatted where
men desire it, on my bottom, my hips, within the round gourds of my
bosoms. Amber had puppy fat on her but was otherwise slim, like
myself.
“First you’ll both do splits, girls,” Bridget told us.
“I can do better than that. I can do a cartwheel!” Amber
offered.
“Just splits, my sweet little one,” Bridget said. She swung
her jewelled crop at the girl. “Do as I say. Okay?”
“Okay,” Amber answered. She let her head hang a little, then
said, looking up, “But I don’t want to mount those wicked trestles!”
“No back talk,” Bridget replied. “Both of you, down on the
floor! Wait--” she said. “Turn around. I’ll lube your bottoms first,
so you get used to what must follow.”
“Ohhhh, but I--!” Amber protested. Bridget grabbed the girl by
her ear. She spun her about. She made her kneel before one of the
chairs. I did not wish to have my ear grabbed and so knelt before my
own chair of my own accord.
“Bring me the KY jelly,” Bridget told Erika.
“Yes, ma’am,” Erika answered.
We were made to offer our bottoms. We knelt with our faces
pressed into the seat of the chairs, where our bottoms should have
rested, and our knees on the floor. The chairs were made of sturdy wood
and offered little comfort. The stone floor lay under my knees. It was
hard to kneel upon.
Erika saw to me. Bridget saw to Amber. The men gathered round
us, stood over us, their cocks standing upright with rigid excitement.
My hair fell over my eyes as Erika eased apart the cheeks of my bottom.
She’d brushed my long locks. Now she was attending to my naked arse. I
tensed my knees. I jerked forward. I tried to avoid her.
Erika stuck her finger up between my bare cheeks. She
whispered to me to be still. I felt her digit, greased with KY, upon my
rosette. Sherry laughed.
“Put it right in! I gave her as much in the jaccuzzi, with no
KY at all!” Sherry urged. It was true. I blushed. My bottom’s own
excitement at being felt, however unwillingly, had eased her earlier
passage. Now I was being felt again, in the most private of places.
Erika stabbed at me and I shrieked. Amber, kneeling beside me,
surrendered a cry of her own. We were forced to receive. Erika’s
finger felt like a long, thin penis as it snaked up my ass. It pushed
the air from my lungs, making me gasp. I tightened upon it, tried to
resist. Erika warned me to be more receptive. Bridget’s cat was ever
ready, to punish disobedience.
Amber screamed. She tried to rise. One of the men bent over
and held her down. Bridget worked her finger in the girl.
“Ah, how divine your bottom is, my dear,” Bridget told the
girl. “So tight, and with such a glow of warmth! Do the boys at your
school compliment your bottom?”
“A-- A likkle,” Amber answered. Her breath rushed from her
lungs. She gasped in more. She sighed. Bridget rotated her finger,
pushed harder. Amber emitted a high-pitched shriek. Then, curiously,
just when I thought the girl might try again to spring up, she balled
her bottom. Dipping her back as much as she could, she bent her
thighs. With a moan she reared her ass back upon Bridget’s finger.
“Ahhhh, yes!” Bridget said. She complimented the girl with a
quick kiss upon her cheek. “That’s it-- work your pretty little rump
upon my finger. Take it. Take it all-- take all of me up your ass!”
“Oooooh! I can’t!” Amber whined. Yet even as she protested
she bumped her ass back again, like a bitch in heat, seeking to impale
herself on the full length of Bridget’s digit.
I was urged to do the same. “Thrust back your fanny,” Erika
urged me. “Don’t make me do all the work. Offer your bottom, twist it
upon my finger.” And she rotated her finger in my channel, to inspire
me.
“Oh! Oh!” I moaned. I couldn’t, didn’t wish to accomodate
her, yet I felt my ass buck backward. Her finger pushed in me more
deeply and I screamed.
“That’s it,” Erika said. My bosoms swung nakedly under me. My
smooth tummy drew in, tightly, making my hips appear to flare even
more. I was a bell-hipped maiden, having my bottom opened. I felt my
cunny moisten. But all Erika’s attention stayed on my asshole. She dug
into it, her hands prying at my cheeks. Her finger oiled me deeply,
preparing me for what was to come.
Moistened and ready, we exercised. We did splits upon the soft
towels that had been laid out on the floor for us. The men stared at
our bare legs. They watched our boobs bounce as we worked. Bridget
made us perch on the edge of our chairs and lift and separate our legs.
We showed our cunnies to the men. They licked their lips, watching,
staring into our slits.
Bridget had us do dips. We placed our hands on the edges of
our chairs. Then we elevated our bottoms up and down in front of our
chairs. As I felt my bottomcheeks open, doing a dip, I imagined the
treste’s hard cocks sliding up me.
The phalluses on the trestles stood waiting, gleaming with oil,
as Amber and I prepared ourselves to take them. We did sit ups. We did
tummy crunchers. We stood up and did jumping jacks, letting our bosoms
swing and bounce freely, to the delight of the men. My gym teacher
would have scolded me for doing jumping jacks without my bra on, but she
wasn’t here. It was just myself, and the wicked men, and women who
would have made Marie Antoinette blush.
“Very good. You are both ready now,” Bridget said to us at
last.
“Ohhhh! I don’t want to take those big things up my bottom!”
Amber wailed. We were breathless from our exercising. Our bosoms
heaved upon our chests, full and round and soft. Our nipples stuck up
like thorns. Our smooth tummies sighed, drew in with fright at the
prospect of what lay ahead. Our cunnies, though, wettened, excited by
the prospect of being forced to accomodate such large cocks.
With tensing bottoms we were led over to the sawhorses. I was
placed in front of one row; Amber before the other. I gazed at the line
of cocks that stood waiting for me. The closest one was small, a boy’s
size. But the cocks rapidly grew bigger, until the one at the end was
bigger in fact than a man’s, more like that of a mule. With a delicate
finger I reached out an touched the tip of the nearest penis.
“Must-- must we take them up our *bottoms*?” I asked, turning
to Erika.
“Yes, dear,” Erika smiled. She offered me a flute of
champagne. “Drink. It will be easier if you’re pleasantly drunk,” she
said. I took the glass from her. I studied it a moment, wondered if I
should try to get myself drunk, then decided it was best. I swallowed
down the whole glass, eagerly. She held a bottle and poured me more. I
drank again, another full glass. Beside me Amber was served, by
Bridget. She gulped down a glassful, then another.
“Very good, you are both ready now,” Bridget said. She waved
Erika away. I wished for more champagne but Bridget didn’t want me too
drunk, she said. “You must not lose your senses entirely, my dear,”
Bridget said. “It is a contest. A race. You must strive to use your
body to win.”
“Yes,” I answered. I did not know what else to say. I looked
at Amber. She stood contemplating the big line of pricks before her
with a finger placed in her mouth. She sucked upon her finger.
Suddenly I reached over and pulled her finger from her lips. She
squealed. I put her finger in my mouth and sucked hard upon it.
“Oh, we must fuck ourselves on the cocks!” I gasped, when Erika
finally managed to pluck Amber’s finger from between my lips.
“Yes, and get going! Don’t just stand around thinking about
it,” Bridget scolded. “There will be a punishment for the loser.” She
lifted up her cat. She let its thongs trail with sparkling fire before
our eyes. It was a beautiful implement, I thought, with its stiff
handle and long, sinewy thongs, each tipped with a gem. But I didn’t
wish to be punished with it. Not again. I didn’t want to have to
‘admire’ it with my bare ass.
“Ready, girls?” Bridget asked. Reluctantly Amber and I looked
at her. I felt myself cringe. Her eyes were like steel, hard and
implacable. We nodded. “On the count of three, then,” Bridget said.
“Pity I don’t have a whistle. One, two...” She paused. One of the
men, wicked as ever, had found a whistle. He handed it to her.
The whistle had a cord. Bridget slung the whistle’s cord
around her neck. Bridget had stripped off her stockings and gloves and
neckerchief to soak in the jaccuzzi, and had left them off, when she got
out. She was as naked as we were. Yet she retained her air of
authority. She gazed at us with eyes that knew how to command, and
expected obedience. She lifted the whistle to her lips. It gave her a
certain dignity. She tossed her black hair back over her shoulder. She
sucked on the whistle daintily a moment. Then she blew on it. Hard.
“TWEEEET!”
At the whistle’s blare, both Amber and I remained motionless,
for a moment, save for the nervous huddling of the cheeks of our
bottoms. Then, suddenly, Amber leapt forward. I followed. She grabbed
the front of the nearest trestle. I did the same. She gazed down at
the boy-sized prick at the end of the trestle nearest her. She licked
her lips. Then, squatting, straddling the leather-topped trestle, she
sat down. But it was an awkward sort of sitting, for she had to poise
her bottom over the upstanding cock. She screamed as she felt it touch
her anus. Then, recovering herself, still poised over the cock that
would bring her denoument, she licked her lips again. Watching her, I
found myself similarly poised, my thighs opened over the trestle, its
prong reaching up between the halves of my bottom.
Breathing rapidly, visibly frightened, Amber pressed her bottom
downward. She let out a new scream as she felt the hard cock urge
itself up through the ring of her anus. I heard a scream echo hers,
realized it was mine. Oh, it was going up me! I was doing it to
myself! I couldn’t believe I was ass-fucking myself on a trestle, in
front of a group of people. And it was a race, I reminded myself.
There was a punishment waiting for the girl who finished last. I
glanced fearfully at Bridget’s crop. She swung it aimlessly beside her
thigh. She gazed at me with expectant eyes.
I pushed my bottom down harder. Amber shrieked as she felt the
dildo ram up her ass. I squealed loudly. The thing stretched my
bottom. It made me feel full, as if I had to expel a turd. I bit my
lip and thrust my hips lower. The big fake penis moved with greater
pressure up inside me. It seemed to split me. I gasped. Oh, I
couldn’t take it! And then suddenly I realized I was taking it, right
to the hilt, for my thighs pressed upon the cool leather of the trestle.
“Three strokes apiece,” Bridget said. “Up and down three times
each, before you get off.” She advanced behind Amber and myself. She
stood over us and watched. She pressed a finger to each of our
shoulders. She made us each work our tushies up and down three times on
the cocks.
It was difficult work, but somehow I managed it. I tried to
think of my Jim and pretend it was him. Yet he was bigger, I knew.
When I was through I lifted my bottom carefully off the fake cock. I
heard a small oiled ‘pop!’ as my rectum broke free of it. Then I
dismounted and raced ahead to the next one.
“Ohhhh! She’s winning!” Amber, who’d been slower at shafting
the cock under her, cried. She lifted up her ass.
“One more stroke for you,” Bridget told the girl. She pressed
a finger hard upon Amber’s shoulder.
“Ohhh, me! It’s not fair! I’ll lose!” Amber wailed. Somehow
she mangaged to squat again, taking the cock a third time, despite her
intense misgivings. Then she was up and off the wicked thing, and
running forward, to receive the next. It was bigger than the last and
she eyed it with apprehension. She glanced over at me. I was already
sinking down onto mine, though with difficultly. It felt like a big
man’s cock but it was still boyish in size; a teenage boys’s size as
opposed to the size of a little boy, as the previous one had been.
My pink-tipped, heavy white bosoms bounced on my chest. I felt
myself sink lower. The cock was quite greasy. It was hard to keep it
out, once you were upon it. Yet my cheeks were taut, perfect in their
roundness and in their youthful tightness. It was an obscene contest, a
big fake prick against my small, soft girlish bottom. I felt my springy
cheeks open to it, gradually. I gasped as each inch of it forced itself
into me. I surrendered to it. Up my passage it went, stripping me of
all modesty in the process, leaving me a well-fucked whore. I felt
myself sweating. Did I look beautiful to the men, wearing my lipstick,
my mascara, with my hair prettily glossed by the brush, yet with a big
prick forcing its way up my bottom?
“Oh, I can feel it in my tummy!” Amber cried. I glanced over
at her. She was upon the penis, taking it hard up her ass. To ease her
passage she reached down between her legs and diddled her slit.
“Yes!” I realized. We must masturbate, if we’re to be
receptive and open. I grabbed the cheeks of my bottom and yanked them
apart, hoping to glide down more thoroughly onto the penis. Then, with
one hand, I reached around to my front, and patted my bared muff.
‘Please, God,’ I prayed. ‘Make me take this cock in my bottom as
eagerly as I’d take it up my cunt.’
It worked. With a gasp of pleasure, I took the fake cock to
the hilt. It split my bottomcheeks and I ground my ass in triumph upon
it. At the same time I petted my muff, and felt it wetten the leather
underneath me.
Then I was up, down, up again, and then down and (quite
carefully) up and off the second cock. I raced to the third. Amber
wailed out again that she would lose, if Bridget didn’t let her cheat
and leave the second cock behind without doing the three necessary
humpings on it.
The third cock was almost man-sized. I glanced at the real men
around me as I mounted it. I found the going rough; it split open my
ass cheeks like a big bone. Yet somehow I managed to get it within me.
It pierced my sphincter. I cried out. I pulled apart my bottomcheeks
to try to make the downward movement easier. Then, bending my knees
more fully, I began the inexorable ride down its length.
Amber joined me a moment later. Spreading her legs, she took
to the trestle beside mine. With a pained cry, she mounted the cock.
She rubbed her muff furiously.
“Spread your cheeks!” I told her. She was silly to try to take
the thing without pulling open her bottom, I thought. She glanced at me
and I demonstrated. She reached behind herself, pulled apart her
bottom, and sank down.
“OOOOOH! It’s going up me!” Amber wailed.
“Very good,” Bridget said, behind her. “You’ve almost got
three out of six.”
We impaled ourselves. It was awful, feeling the big prick rise
implacably up one’s gut. Its oiled hardness showed no mercy, once one’s
seat had been put upon it. Up it went. My bottom widened on it and
spread apart, my cheeks itching, burning, desperate to get off it. I
felt somehow more womanly, though, with the big penis forcing its way up
inside me. It was a fullness I relished even as I yearned to be free of
it. I squeezed my tits. I fingered my cunt. I was impregnated by it,
fulfilled.
“Oh, how beautiful she looks! Someone fuck me up my ass,
please!” Sherry cried. She dropped to her knees on the towels where
Amber and I had done our exercises. Nick, ramrod hard from watching me
and Amber, dropped to his knees behind her. She let out a sharp cry. I
sensed he was entering her, just like that, his own cock providing the
necessary lubrication.
“Do me also!” Erika begged of Jim. She sank to her knees and
presented her bare, pretty ass to him. I felt jealously but it was a
subordinate feeling, given the intense jutting of the cock in my ass. I
worked myself upon it and pretended I was receiving him, instead of
Erika. With that as inspiration, I had done my three humps and was off
the wicked fake cock in no time.
The next cock was man-sized. There was no diminishing its
importance. It was the size of a full-grown, well hung man’s penis, and
stood up with all the glistening pride a real man’s cock would have,
stiff and tall and undeniably thick. I gazed at it. I gulped. Could I
really take such a big, lurid thing up my bottom? Hesitantly I mounted
the trestle. I positioned my ass over it. I reached back, spread my
cheeks with my hands.
“Here goes,” I breathed. I sat gingerly on the head of the
cock. It pressed hard within my cheeks. It touched my tight rosette.
“Bear down,” I heard Bridget say, behind me. Whether she was
speaking to myself, or Amber, or perhaps even to Sherry or Erika, I
couldn’t tell.
A figure danced up beside me. It was Larissa. She was lovely,
her hair newly brushed, her body glowing with its tanned nudity. She
kissed my cheek. She made me turn my mouth to hers and engaged my
lips. Walter stepped up behind her. She arched her hips back to him.
“Do me again in my ass,” Larissa begged her new boyfriend. He
obliged, seized her rump. She kissed me hard on my mouth. “Mmmm, it is
so exciting!” she breathed. I felt my anus opened by the big fake cock
jammed up between my ass cheeks.
“Unhhh, this one’s too big,” I breathed. Yet somehow I managed
to sit down upon it, slowly, completely, as Larissa kissed me and
received Walter up her behind.
“Ooooh! Oooh! Oh!” I gasped. The organ may have been fake,
but the way it split me open and filled me up hardly was. I was in
agony and ecstasy both at the same time. I had a continuing desire to
poop, to expel it, even as I sat repeatedly upon it. Somehow I kept
track of the count. I gave myself two extra squats upon the big false
penis, though, it was so exciting to sit upon it even as my girfriend
kissed my face. I was bare-hipped, my bottom nude and wanton. I was an
Indian maiden, captured by big-penised Pilgrims and made to sit upon
their prongs.
With my head spinning, I rose from the big hard schlong.
Larissa held me by my face and, receiving a cock up her own ass, urged
me to squat down yet again. I peeled her fingers off my face.
“No, I must not lose the race,” I sighed breathlessly. I felt
a weariness in my limbs. Could I really go on with this obscene
contest? I grabbed the halves of my bottom. I stared at the next
prick. It waited for me, mounted at the rear of the next inclining
trestle. It was bigger than man-sized. A true challenge. I was only
13. I felt hopelessly outgunned. I had only my snatch, and my
bottomhole, and my newly grown tits. It was big and well-greased and
not a living thing. A big demon. Made by evil elves, I imagined, in a
workshop Santa never knew existed. It thrilled me, looking at it, and
yet it frightened me. I could never accommodate such an awful monster
up my bottom!
SWIIIICK! The cat whistled past my bottom. One of its
jewelled tips connected with my seat. It grazed it, as if in warning.
I jerked my head back. Bridget, armed with her whistle round her neck,
held aloft her cat, stared at me with glistening eyes.
“On to the next!” she cried. Her long black hair was tousled,
witch-like. Her sleek body moved with liquid grace behind me, like a
serpent’s, biting at my bottom. Her wild eyes urged me on to sins more
awful than those I’d already committed.
I dismounted. I pushed aside Larissa’s seeking hands and ran
to the next trestle.
“Oh, yes!” I heard Larissa moan, watching me. Her cry was
seconded by other females in the room. It was a wild, butt-fucking orgy
that was taking place all around me now. Male cocks reamed young,
receptive female bottoms. Groans mingled with sighs of pleasure, and of
alarm. It was a contest; could the males retain their seed, so as to
properly service the females in their care? And could the poor females,
youthful and tight-bottomed as they were, accept the big male prongs up
their asses? Amidst all the nasty doings, I was the star. It was my
cat-enforced antics that spurred them all on. They watched me, cheered
me, as they fell to fucking each other.
I grabbed the next prick. I held it tightly with both my
hands. It was so huge; I could just barely encompass it with my small
fingers. I felt its oiled girth in my hands. I wondered how on earth I
would take it up my fanny?
“YEEEEhooook!” I heard as Amber, behind me, slid down awkwardly
on the fourth penis. She was only 12. I imagined her small bottom
popping like a balloon on it. Bridget was wicked, to make us do such
things.
I decided, suddenly, there was only one way to take the cock in
my hands. My cunny yearned for it and my bottom feared it. So, then,
let it be my cunt that received it. Such a large and wonderful thing
should be tested the proper way, up within a girls’ womb; not prying
apart her ass.
I straddled the big monster with my long legs. It stood up
firmly between my thighs, all slick and oiled and ready. Slowly I
lowered my cunt to its tip. I shrieked as I felt it touch me. It was
so hard, so big. It kept my thighs apart with its hugeness. Somewhere
behind me I heard the cat, flinched. But it was Amber’s seat the awful
thongs touched. She was a slow-poke, Bridget scolded. She must hump
the fourth cock more quickly.
“YEEEK! It stings!” I heard Amber cry. I guessed she spoke of
the cat, and was even then clutching at her bottom, trying to protect
her seat from it.
“It is for your own good. Hurry! Lest you lose the race!”
Bridget warned.
Shuddering with lust and fear, I bent my knees. The big penis
jabbed up between my labial lips. I let out a hollar of lust, of
fright. Then, putting a hand on my tummy, pressing inward, fearing I
might jam the cock right up through me and see it pop out of my navel, I
sat down more fully.
“OOOOOOO!” I shouted. How it stretched me! Its fearsome width
filled me. Its length plunged deep into my body. Up between my thighs
it went, its pressure hard, intense, like an ivory elephant tusk rammed
up me. I would confess all I knew to black-skinned natives. I would
betray Tarzan. They would torture him with an elephant tusk up his ass,
even as they speared me with one up my cunt.
“Hey! She’s cheating!” Larissa cried. I shivered, startled.
What was that little cunt doing? I heard her groan, loudly, as her
sometime boyfriend rammed himself more deeply into her.
“What?! You ARE cheating!” Bridget said. I felt a coursing of
cat tails across my seat.
“YEEEEEEE!” I howled. How those jewelled tips stung! My
heinie was exposed to them and I could do little to protect myself,
jammed down on the big fake penis, as I was. It stuck deeply into me,
holding me upon it. I tried to rise. Bridget flayed my bottomcheeks
again. I howled. My hands flew to my seat. She struck a third time,
across my hands. I yanked them away and she hit me again, on my bared
ass.
“Ohhh, please!” I begged. I was impaled on the big prong and
couldn’t get off it. I fell forward. I grasped the leather-topped
trestle. My bottom, bared more fully, received the cat yet again. A
tip from the many-thonged whip found my anus and bit it. “YeeeeeHOOOO!”
I shouted.
My eyes squeezed tightly shut. I began to cry. The cock,
fortunately, had a realistic tension built in it. Despite its hardness,
I found it leaned forward as I myself dipped forward to the surface of
the trestle.
Yet that was no relief to my bottom, split apart and bared to
Bridget’s cat. She hit me again. I screeched. I begged her to stop,
lest I should die.
Miraculously, she did. But it wasn’t out of pity for me.
Amber, having done her three humps on the fourth penis, had dashed to
the fifth. Copying me, she shoved her cunt down upon it, sparing her
seat.
“What?! You are cheating too!” Bridget yelled. She turned to
Amber’s seat, struck it with her cat. The girl howled loudly.
Spared momentarily from the cat, I felt desire return. Rudely
I began to hump myself upon the awful penis. It worked in me. It broke
me open, it seemed, psychologically, and made me more female than I’d
ever been before. I lusted upon it. Beside me, lost in screams, of
bliss or pain I could not tell, Amber humped herself upon the penis on
her trestle, just like me. Bridget whipped her awhile, but as time went
by I think she must have lightened her scourging, for, despite getting
whacked, we both suffered the cat without undue harm to our bottoms.
Our time in the cave ended. Larissa and I retreived what we
could of our bikinis and left the cave as we’d entered it, by the
swimming out, through the submereged passageway. I felt like a sperm,
doing it, wiggling through the tight confines of my own vagina.
Amber left as she’d come, up through the top of the cliff. I
was reluctant to leave her. I liked her very much, despite her
childishness.
Erika carried Larissa and I back to the lake’s far shore on her
boat. Then she drove us home. Nick stayed behind to help the others
clean the cave. It would be used again, I knew, perhaps as early as
next weekend. Other girls would be entertained. I wished for time to
be myself again, and knew Larissa did too. I liked having a wild summer
fling, my first, but now, with autumn coming, other things beckoned.
Normal things. School and homework.
Larissa and I visited Nick at his house about two weeks later.
We played monopoly, Larissa won. We didn’t bring up the subject of our
adventure in the mountains and Nick, out of respect for our modesty,
didn’t bring it up either, though the way he undressed us with his eyes,
I knew he was thinking of it. When we kissed him goodnight, he passed
his hands round to our bottoms.
“Ah, how temptingly plump your seats are!” Nick breathed. His
voice was throaty. His unshaven face felt good against my cheeks.
I felt Larissa quiver beside me. Her breasts pressed to him,
as mine did. But I was under a cufew, for being gone without
permission, and had to hurry home. Larissa did too.
“Not tonight, Nick,” I heard her breathe. I agreed.
“Not tonight, Nick,” I said. I pecked him on his cheek.
THE END
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