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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: Sum 18 Summer of Sin part 18 of 20 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eighteen
I smelled eggs and bacon. I came downstairs. I walked with
sleepy feet toward the dining table. I’d just had my bath. I was
feeling all tingly and refreshed. My hair, pinned into pigtails, bobbed
on my shoulders. I was slender, graceful in my steps. I wore black
panties that had been laid out for me. My black schoolgirl blouse
fitted neatly over my upper body. Stockings sheathed my legs. My
shoes, polished early this morning by Sister Mary while I still lay
sleeping, fitted snugly to my feet. I did not have the spiked heels on
that I’d worn yesterday. I’d been permitted to wear, instead, the shoes
I’d first visited the schoolroom downstairs in. They were modest, with
a heel that was elevated enough to show off my bottom without making it
difficult for me to walk.
I approached the table with hungry eyes. I was famished. I
went to ‘my’ chair. There were only four: one at the table’s head, for
Father Brannigan. One at the table’s foot, for Father Virgil. One
across from where I sat, for Sister Lilith. I pulled out my chair and
was about to plop down when I saw it. There were two bulbs sticking up
through the hole in my seat. The rod was still there! It was higher
than ever! A gleam of oil was smeared over the two visible bulbs. I
stared. Was I expected to sit down on that?
“Ah, Chloe, I see you’re ready for breakfast. Did you enjoy
your bath?” Sister Lilith asked. She appeared in the doorway. I
glanced back over my shoulder and saw her, then saw Father Brannigan and
Father Virgil behind her. They were grinning. They came through the
doorway into the room. “And how is your little pussy this morning?”
Sister Lilith asked me. She approached me. She knelt before me and,
without even asking, pulled open the front of my panties. She rubbed my
slit with her fingers. I looked down at her.
“No, please--” I sighed.
“Oh, Chloe,” Lilith said. “You don’t understand, do you? We
must make ourselves wet for the men whenever we can. It’s our duty. I
must be wet, and you must be wet too. Stand still while I make you all
juicy so the men, eating their breakfast, can have the pleasure of
knowing that they’ve got two randy females sharing their meal with
them.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be wet! I just got all nice and fresh in
the bath!” I whined. Her fingers insinuated themselves up into my
private.
“Chloe, I want you to do something very naughty for me, so you
know your status in life, and I know mine,” Sister Lilith told me. She
looked up at me, still smiling, and said: “I want you to pee on my
fingers.”
“Oh! I’ll get my stockings and my panties all wet!” I cried.
Lilith stroked my slit, making me swoon.
“They won’t get that wet,” Lilith assured me. “But they will
help us be more submissive at breakfast, don’t you think? I want you to
pee into my hand. Then you can put your hand in my panties, frig me,
and feel me pee into your hand. We’ll be two contrite females after
that!”
“Noooo,” I said. I bit my lip. I felt my tummy sink with
fright between my encircling ribs. How could I piss on her hand? It
would be so... nasty! Lilith diddled my slit. She looked at my furred
mount and cooed.
“Do it, Chloe,” Lilith urged. Suddenly, against my will, or
perhaps to give her I hoped she didn’t really want, I felt my bladder
open. A spritz of pee suddenly bathed her fingers. “Yes!” Lilith
howled. She smiled up at me from between my arched legs. “Piss, little
one!” she said. I peed freely then, letting my pee sprinkle her
fingers. She caught my liquid gold in her hand and then let it run down
over her fingers. It pooled in my pulled-open panties beneath her
hand. It stained the tops of my stockings.
“What is going on here?!” Sister Mary, blustering into the
room, asked in a shocked voice. Father Brannigan turned to her.
“The girls are peeing on the floor,” Father Brannigan said
nonchalantly.
“But I just waxed this floor!” Sister Mary blurted.
“Then it’s in no danger, is it?” Father Brannigan said.
“Oh! I have never seen such a thing!” Sister Mary said. She
turned and left in a huff. I heard her speaking in a loud voice to the
coach man, who was fixing our breakfast in the kitchen.
“Now do me,” Lilith said, when I’d peed all over her hand. She
stood up. I was left with wet panties ringing the tops of my thighs.
My stockings had long streaks of wetness down their insides. “Don’t
pull up your panties,” Lilith told me. “Leave them just as they are.”
I nodded. How strange this was! I knelt down in front of her. She had
on a white gown, open in front. She wore white patent-leather gloves on
her hands. The back of each glove had been carefully laced and tied.
Despite the labor of their bindings, her gloves were fingerless. A
space was open, too, on her palm. I wondered at those elaborate gloves,
sheathing the back of each of her small hands, but leaving her fingers
free, leaving her palms bare. How erotic they seemed! How
superfluous. Lilith’s breasts were contained in a frilly bra. She wore
stockings, a slim garter. Her panties were sheer, but interlaced with a
floral design that concealed her skin wherever its pattern was.
I yanked open the front of Lilith’s panties. I pulled the
front down, pouch-like, and stuck my hand in and felt her muff. It was
soft, furred, dry. I began diddling it with my fingers. I felt a
glistening wetness dampen the folds of her skin there, her private, and
Lilith gave a short gasp. I looked up excitedly.
“Is this what you want?” I asked.
“Yes! Make me wet!” Lilith said in a hot, passionate voice.
Her eyes closed. She threw her chin back. “Tell me when you want me to
pee,” she added.
“Any time is fine with me,” I said frankly.
“No,” Lilith said. “Make me sexually wet first. Then, when
you feel I’m wet enough, command me to wet your hand. The men will
prefer that; you telling me I must do it. I’ll try to hold back until
you’re ready for me. Take as long as you like, my sweet.”
I stuck my fingers sharply up into her. She squealed, but said
nothing in protest. This was the woman who’d bonked me! I savored the
idea of getting a little revenge on her. I dug hard into her flesh.
“You’ll pee when I say then, and not before,” I told her,
kneeling with my own pee-stained panties around my legs.
“Yes. As you insist... mistress!” Sister Lilith told me. I
gasped.
“I’m not your mistress!” I said. “I don’t want to be!”
“You must be, for a little while,” Lilith said. “You have my
sex in your hand. Command me.”
“But I feel more like I’m helping you. You’re a girl, just
like me,” I said.
“Mmmmm, but I like thinking like a boy,” Lilith confessed.
“How I wish I could give you more than just my slit!”
“You’re strange,” I told her. “But you have a nice pussy.” I
rubbed it.
“Thanks... I guess,” Lilith answered.
I sat at breakfast, my panties ringing my knees. My chair was
high. I could kick my feet and only just scrape the toes of my shoes on
the floor. Sister Mary, bringing in our food, looked crossly at me when
she saw me doing that. I gave her a spoilt smile. They were my shoes.
I could scrape the toes if I wished, couldn’t I?
You would think Sister Mary would show more concern for me than
for my shoes. I sat submissively, but my bottom was quite
uncomfortable. With the soft velvet of the chair pressing against my
thighs, I looked like I had the perfect seat. Yet thrust up through the
hole in the center of the seat were now two shiny greased bulbs. The
second was larger than the first. In sitting, I’d been made to take
them both. Father Brannigan and Father Virgil and Sister Lilith made
sure I sat down properly on the chair, not seating themselves until I
was put in my chair. The hard rod with the steel adornments was wedged
up within my fanny. The highest ball urged open the depths of my rectum
while the new, lower ball spread wide my anus. I could barely move,
thanks to the intrusion. I ate with stiff grace, lifting my forkful of
eggs to my mouth with perfect posture. Lilith smiled, seeing how
well-mannered I ate.
“You are not slouching at the table this morning, Chloe,”
Lilith said.
“N-Nooooo,” I answered. I put my eggs in my mouth and chewed.
“I am glad to see it,” Lilith said. “Afterward you shall go
downstairs and have more lessons from the priests.” She glanced with
perfect decorum at Father Brannigan. Yet I knew her panties, like mine,
were wet with her pee, and the insides of her stockings too! How neat
we looked sitting there at the table. But, despite the erectness of my
posture, my own breasts bobbed nakedly with each of my forkfuls of
food. And, under the table, stretched across my knees, my undies were
wet. Lilith and I were a strange mixture of perfect poise and
eroticism.
“What will Chloe be learning today,” Lilith asked Father
Brannigan.
He cleared his throat. He looked fine and austere in his
clerical robes.
“Chloe will be learning about the colon,” Father Brannigan
said.
“It is used as much as several times a day, yet pupils in the
public schools seem never to be taught about it,” Father Virgil chimed
in. “Today will will learn its dimensions, its functions. And most of
all, its capacity.”
Lilith laughed. I squirmed on my seat. I was going to study
my bottomhole?
“How do you mean, Father, its capacities?” Lilith asked. She
cut herself another piece of egg.
“How much total volume of fluid can it hold?” Father Brannigan
said. “This is a matter we will investigate.”
“Ahhh,” Lilith nodded. She looked at me. “You will know more
about yourself after today, Chloe,” Lilith told me.
“But I don’t need to know about my ass!” I answered.
“At this school, you do, Chloe,” Father Brannigan told me. He
put jam on his toast as he talked. “This is the sort of thing we study
here, Chloe. Nothing else. Just you.”
I stood at the blackboard downstairs in the schoolroom. My
panties were pulled up. They were new panties, white. They covered my
behind, unlike the French panties I’d worn previously. They felt soft
and comforting against my ass. My black school blouse was pinned up in
back so that my new panties could be admired by the priests. I wore
fresh stockings. The toes of my shoes had lost some of their luster
where I’d scraped them this morning, sitting at breakfast. Father
Brannigan fingered a long whippy cane. He stood behind me, watching me
write on the blackboard. He’d already informed me that I’d be tasting
the cane for scraping my shoes.
I trembled as I wrote on the board. The thought of the cane
would have been enough to frighten anyone, but I had a worse problem.
After breakfast, they’d made me kneel on the floor. They’d cleansed my
bottomhole with an infusion of fluid. Then, when I was as clean as
could be in my fanny, they filled me up. With Hershey’s chocolate
syrup!
Standing now at the blackboard, I was forced to draw a picture
of my rectum. They made me use brown chalk to fill in the rectum after
I’d drawn it. I gripped a box of colored chalk in my right hand. In my
left I held the chalk I was coloring on the blackboard with. Yet the
tightness of my fingers was no match for that of my bottom! My soft
cheeks huddled hard together, inside my panties, trying desperately to
hold in the syrup. Imagine! I was doing my best not to poop syrup into
my panties, yet both priests, and Lilith too, were eagerly awaiting my
release.
“I should like to have a tasty snack,” Lilith, sitting on
Father Brannigan’s big desk, announced. “Perhaps some pudding, Father?”
“Yes,” Father Brannigan said.
“It should be warm pudding, though,” Father Virgil said. “And
chocolate.”
Father Brannigan tapped my behind with his cane. I shrieked.
I dropped my chalk. I bent to pick it up. “Ooooh!” I said, stopping
halfway. If I bent over, my bottomcheeks would surely release my syrupy
poop into my panties!
“Use the orange chalk, Chloe,” Father Virgil suggested. He was
ever solicitous of me, even when I was being put through the severest of
trials.
“Thank you, Father,” I said. I stood erect again and drew the
orange chalk from the box I held in my right hand.
“Orange?” Father Virgil said. “Shit isn’t orange. Nor
choclate syrup.”
“She is only 13,” Father Virgil answered.
“Ohhhhh--!” I announced suddenly. In bending I must have done
something to myself, for I suddenly could no longer hold the syrup
inside me! I wiggled my tush. I squeezed my cheeks tight. No use!
What was in me was absolutely coming down-- out! “Yikes!” I shouted.
I felt a wet liquid turd poop itself suddenly into my panties.
The whiteness of my undies was sullied with brown, syrupy goop. Lilith
jumped down from Father Brannigan’s desk. Gently she lifted open the
back of my panties. More syrup discharged itself from my butthole,
accumlating in a drippy wet pile in the back of my panties.
“Gentlemen, our pudding is served,” Lilith said. To my utter
shock, I felt her neat, perfect face descend to the level of my
panties. Her hair, piled up with distinguished grace atop her head,
brushed my lower back as she bent down behind me. She inserted her
tongue into the pudding that was oozing fresh from my butthole. She
licked. She swallowed.
“Mmmm,” Sister Lilith said. “Warm chocolate strup, heated by
her behind.
“Let me have some!” both priests shouted. I screamed, tried to
pull away, but they were upon me at once.
Afterward, my bottom licked clean, I received several licks of
the cane. It imprinted itself on my bare bottom. I was put to bed,
upstairs, with a well-cleaned hole and an ass showing the marks of a
discipline.
In the end, one becomes submissive. Perhaps it is the randy
stiffness of the males that finally brings a girl to full submission.
Always, no matter how much they discarge, the men seem ready for more,
after just a few hours. Perhaps, sometimes, a night must pass for them
to recover, but in the morning they are ready for you again. There is
no resistance, in a place like I was staying. There is teasing, yes, if
the men permit it, but no resistance. You are their plaything. They
are eager to play.
It was with graceful submission, then, that I received the last
act of their depravity. Lilith was present, but she was to be the cause
of my final denoument. In this way did she seem like a boy to me,
though she had no penis and her pussy was small and tight.
We both wore fine stockings, Lilith and I. Mine were white,
for purity. Hers were black. We wore slim garters around our waists.
Nothing else was needed, save perfect makeup and hair.
I knelt on a the bed. Lilith knelt over me. She kissed me,
her bosoms pressed hard to my bare back. She assured me her bottomhole
had been filled and rinsed several times by Sister Mary, and was quite
immaculate.
Father Brannigan knelt behind me. He rubbed my pussy with his
big hand to exicte me. I knew his cock was engorged, erect, bobbing
somewhere just beyond my fanny. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want
to look.
As I knelt tensely under Sister Lilith, supporting her weight
on my frail 13-year-old back, a most obscene thing was done to her.
Father Virgil, displaying an erection of his own, stuck an enema tube in
her bottom. He filled her with fluid. When she screamed she could take
no more, he stopped. He made her wiggle a bit, to slosh around the
fluid in her colon and clean her thoroughly.
Not that it was needed, Sister Lilith assured me through
clenched teeth. Sister Mary had cleansed her repeatedly already.
“But perhaps it will impart to the fluid an extra warmth,”
Father Virgil said, standing behind her.
“As you wish, Father,” Lilith gasped.
The enema tube was left in Lilith’s bottomhole. But now a most
wicked thing was done. Its other end, disconnected from the enema bag,
was greased at its tip by both priests. Then they wrenched my bottom
wide. I shrieked. They ignored my cry. With a quick poke, they deftly
inserted the greased tip into my anus.
At once I began to feel an inflow of fluid. It ran out of
Lilith’s bottom and down the tube into my own. I cried out. Lilith,
through tight-pressed teeth, told me to hush. I was filled with the
fluid from her ass!
When I was quite full, Father Brannigan clamped off the end of
the tube. With my ass bulgingly full of fluid from Lilith’s behind, he
presented his penis to me. He made me take it up my cunt. Oh, how
awfully wide I was streched! Lilith was, in a sense, fucking my ass
with the fluid from her bottom. Indeed, though clamped, tube still
connected our holes. At the same time Father Virgil, coming around to
the other side of the bed, made me open my mouth.
“Now you will be fucked by all three of us,” Father Virgil told
me. His voice was frank. He prised my cheeks open and put himself over
my lolling, shocked tongue. I was inundated a few minutes later.
Father Brannigan filled my cunt with his cum as Father Virgil discharged
into my mouth. Meanwhile, having already filled me with fluid from
herself, Sister Lilith cooed, and kissed my face.
I was filled, afterward, they boasted, with the holy spirit.
But I knew it was just them that had filled me. God would have wanted
to have nothing to do with an act as depraved as that!
30
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