---------------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BOTTOMS IN BONDAGE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Three
Mistress seated herself at a little table. She made out a dance card
for each of us. Each one was made of black satin, trimmed with black
lace. Mistress wrote on each one with indelible silver ink, from a special
marking pen. She put down our made-up names, stopping to ask us again
what they were to make sure she got them right. Then she put down an
ÒA,Ó after our name, if we were still an anal virgin. Otherwise the card
contained only a name. Then she handed our cards to us. Each of us was
made to tie our dance card to our wrist, with dainty black thread that was
attached to the card. Mine, of course, had a big ÒAÓ on it, as did RoseÕs and
LindaÕs. Sandy and Kitty, experienced with men, had only their names,
though SandyÕs was written as Miss Sandy. She was our chaperone, though
she was charged with seeing that we did NOT stay safe. Her duty was to
make sure we were fucked.
Tremblingly I tied on my dance card. It was very admirable, I liked
it but for the Òscarlet letter,Ó as it were. Rose seemed a bit bothered by
hers also.
ÒWhat, you girls have each been given an ÒA,Ó and you are unhappy?Ó
Mistress teased.
ÒI shanÕt ever have one again after tonight, with this one advertising
me so blatantly,Ó Rose whined.
ÒNo, dear, you shall not. It is my job to see that you shall not.Ó Now
letÕs go back to the tea room, girls. And remember, though this party is in
the manner of a little girlsÕ tea party, we are all big girls.Ó She smirked,
looking us over as she led us out. ÒWe had BETTER be, for the men all have
big things.Ó
We plopped back into our chairs round the tea table, more clothed
than weÕd been before yet feeling much more naked. IÕd only had teeny
panties before, and damp ones at that, hiding nothing. Now I was
encumbered with chaps, boots, a bra, and a hat, all in very elegant leather.
Yet I felt totally vulnerable, exposed, and I knew the other girls must feel
worse, having not even a bra! Rose in her bolero, Linda in her cami, Kitty
in her useless Indian vest. Even Kitty looked a little uneasy now. Dress-
up time was over. The men would be with us any minute.
ÒOne more thing,Ó Mistress said. She passed around behind each of
us, drawing from a small box she held a leather collar. Around each of our
necks she fastened, then locked, one of these beastly devices. I could not
remove mine, nor the girls theirs. Finally mistress closed one around her
own throat. Dangling down from each collar, in front, was a small gold
heart.
ÒWhat does mine read?Ó I asked, seeing the other girls had sayings
on theirs.
ÒYour heart reads the same as ours, dear,Ó mistress replied casually.
ÒIt says, ÒÔI Love You.ÕÓ
ÒYou mean IÕm going to walk up to men with THIS around my throat,
ÔI Love You.Ó??? Pristine Linda was most disturbed. ÒTo STRANGERS? I
LOVE you?Ó
ÒYes, dear, and thatÕs exactly what youÕll do, too, love them, unless
your master intervenes to stop it.Ó
ÒOh, I donÕt want this!Ó Linda boo-hooed, shedding a few little tears.
ÒDarling, think of how much you love your husband, and how you want
to please him in every way. You do, donÕt you?Ó Mistress asked. Gently
she wiped the pouting girlÕs tears from her cheeks with a lace napkin.
ÒYes,Ó Linda sobbingly agreed, her voice catching but no more tears
welling up. ÒYes I DO want to please him. I love him VERY much. ThatÕs
why I married him. But these things heÕs making me do. Well, I can hardly
guess what he has in store for me, and I donÕt like even thinking about it!Ó
ÒThen that must be why he brought you, dear,Ó Mistress consoled her.
ÒFor training. YouÕve been to school before, havenÕt you?Ó
ÒYes! Of course! For arithmetic, and writing, and cooking! I was
very good in home economics.Ó
ÒThen you must be very good in this school too, dear, for sex is even
more important than cooking to a marriage.Ó
ÒWell...Ó Linda considered, thinking, I knew, that man could live
without sex but not without food. Yet, truly, even I at my tender age knew
that any man would pass up a meal for fucking. I knew this just from
being around boys. At school theyÕd complain endlessly about needing
second helpings in the lunchroom. Then, next day, IÕd see them necking out
back of the cafeteria with some girl, and theyÕd miss lunch entirely. Yet
all afternoon theyÕd be grinning from ear to ear.
ÒNow is anyone else thinking of backing out?Ó Mistress asked,
surveying us as we sat fidgeting round the table. We were half a dozen
pair of jiggly boobs, all anxious and yet very pretty. We shook our heads
no. Mistress smiled, rose, strode to the door IÕd entered through. She
opened the drawer of a heavy oak dresser near the entrance. She plucked a
key from it, and locked the door. Finality. We were done in now, for sure.
My next dance card, and the next after that, would never have an ÒAÓ on it
again. Mistress replaced the key in the dresser.
ÒThis drawer is self-locking,Ó Mistress warned us. I opened it
before you girls arrived, so IÕd be able to get the door key out. But once I
close it, I cannot get the door key out anymore. Only one of the masters
will be able to open the front door, and which one has the second key, or
where heÕs stashed it, I do not know. Firmly she shut the drawer, and its
closing seemed to echo in the room. I think we all looked a little pale
then, despite our rouge and makeup.
Mistress returned to our table. She gazed at me a moment, almost
longingly. ÒLisa, you are so young and sweet,Ó she said at last. ÒTruly you
are my favorite! I want you to wear what I wore at my first sex party.Ó
From her small box, the one that had held the collars, she drew forth a
pair of shiny metal handcuffs.
ÒOh, my God!Ó Linda exclaimed.
ÒShush, girl! Or IÕll dress you in these instead,Ó mistress warned.
Linda watched as I felt mistress draw my arms behind me. I wanted to
bolt, to flee, but a desire still possessed me to please my newfound
master. I did not want to go back to mommie just yet. I wanted to play,
to have fun! Yet could I, bound like this, I asked myself. Too late! I felt
the cold cuffs snap shut. They were tight on my wrists. I did not ask
about they key. I knew the answer already. A master would have it.
Someone would unlock me, but it would not necessarily be my own master.
For, indeed, they would not know, in advance, which of us had been cuffed.
It was a ritual passed down, woman to woman. I would possess the cuffs
from now on, until I passed them along to another. And one more item too,
I realized, my eyes rounding with shock as I saw it drawn from the box. A
ball gag! Big and round and apple-red. Boys at school threatened talkative
girls with them, though in fact they owned none, simply read of them in
magazines. Except one boy. Somehow heÕd gotten hold of one and passed it
around in class one day, amongst the boys. TheyÕd chucked. We girls had
not asked teacher any questions that day. ÒBoyÕs Day,Ó they called it after
that. The day the girls shut up in class.
Now mistress put the gag to my lips. I opened my lips, receiving it
as IÕd hoped to receive masterÕs cock. Firmly she shoved it home, nearly
gagging me, momentarily. It bulbed within my mouth, trapping my tongue
beneath it. I had to think to swallow. Yet, worse, the ball bulged from
between my parted lips, showing everyone my submission. I felt like some
assistant to William Tell. Would he pierce me right through my apple,
gauging even his speed correctly so that the pointed arrowhead rested
harmlessly within my gaping mouth? Or would it travel on, stabbing me
right through the base of my skull and nailing me to a wall somewhere? I
trembled at the thought of walking around, greeting men with a ball gag on
and a sign hanging from my neck reading, ÒI Love You.Ó The other girls
looked at me with trepidation. Things were getting very serious now.
Along one wall there was a curtain. ÒI must open the curtain now,Ó
Mistress advised us. She rose and clattered across the floor in her heels,
her bottom showing all the way. Drawing on a cord, she moved the curtain
back with little effort. Curiously, she drew from a cord hanging down at
the center of the drapes (for there were two, which now withdrew
simultaneously). When the drapes were gone mistress walked forward,
and I saw that there was an opening in the wall. Mistress stopped at the
opening, and to my surprise I saw the men just beyond, lounging in tailored
tuxedoes.
ÒPlease come in. The partyÕs about to begin,Ó Mistress called, her
voice sounding small and insignificant from where we sat. A light breeze
ruffled her hair, shivered her dress. As she turned the men caught the
breathtaking sight of her bottom. Only her husband, among the men in the
group, had seen her like that before. As she walked back to us her bottom
beckoned them, swaying and jiggling with wifely lure. The men hustled up
from the chaise lounges theyÕd been resting in, smoking and talking. They
tossed their cigars aside and followed Sandy, eyes glued to her heinie.
She led them to us.
The men seemed imposing as they entered. They were big men, tall,
some of them extremely well built; others, like my master, more regal,
slim but strong. They gazed at us with covetous eyes, irrespective of who
owned whom. We were, in fact, on display, like wares in a shop window.
Except there was no window.
Like the other girls, my rounded eyes flicked from one to the other.
We were runaway slaves, captured by our masters. When my eyes met
those of my own master I blushed, dropped them. I felt ashamed wearing
the ball gag, as if I myself had ordered it put on. It seemed a symbol of
my wantonness; letting him steal me, strip me, and now even dressing up
for him, in naughty clothes that hid nothing.
The men, despite their decorous attire, seemed about to tear us from
our seats round the table and fuck us directly. But mistress raised her
hand. It was slim, delicate, with long fingers and longer nails. It could
not have restrained a big dog, tugging on a leash. Yet it stopped the men.
It stilled them. With a shudder I realized the Òrough sex,Ó so often
referred to, would be ritualized; perhaps administered by mistress
herself, for the menÕs wicked pleasure. IÕd hoped to get whatever must be
done to me over with quickly, taken by my master and fucked hard and
fast, breaking my desire to flee; perhaps given to a friend afterward, for a
final vigorous fuck. But this decadence would be slow, leisurely. We
might be tied up and God knows what done to us, for hours perhaps, til we
screamed more loudly than the souls damned in Hell, til our voices gave
out and we lay with mouths open in a rictus only, tortured still. Boys had
sometimes boasted of this to me, reading up on it first in Penthouse
Forum and then taunting me with it in the lunch line, me and the other
girls. How we would have this done to us, and that, and always they made
a big thing about how we would be wearing boots. I glanced down at
myself, well-booted, all us girls (save mistress) well-booted, and
realized what IÕd let myself in for. The pretty game of dress-up had been
not so much a girlÕs fantasy as a boyÕs, with the men gloating outside,
waiting to rape us while we primped and pranced before the mirrors in
mistressÕ bedroom.
Five men. Five females. Mistress rose, her frail body dwarfed by the
hulking men who towered over us. Yet she controlled them, despite her
frailty. With her stocking-sheathed legs, her bottom showing in back, she
held them in check with but a glance. (Though for how long, I wondered?)
Mistress had a hat of her own, it turned out, a pink policewomanÕs cap.
She lifted it from atop a bookshelf and plunked it on her head. She took
hold of the bill and straightened it.
ÒAttention, men! Bring yourselves to attention.Ó Sluggishly the five
men formed up into a kind of line. ÒPresent arms!Ó Mistress ordered. With
an audible groan of relief the men zipped themselves down, yanked open
their trousers. Through their flies their cocks sprang, huge and hard and
throbbing manfully. Mistress stopped before each one and lifted it with a
single finger. She inspected it.
ÒOnly the largest cocks are allowed,Ó she reminded the men. ÒIÕm
going to measure each of you and you had better not have lied on your
applications. Your dick better be just as big as you said it would be, right
down to the last centimeter. And I want to know who has the biggest
penis, so extend yourselves with all your might. You will not want to miss
out on the prize for it.Ó Manfully the men thrust out their organs, all stiff
as boards, their butts clenching and unclenching beneath their expensive,
tailored pants. Carefully Mistress measured the first man with a tape
measure, both his length, right down to the hairy base; and, wrapping the
tape measure around his girth, the width of his cock.
ÒOh, God!Ó the first man exclaimed. I could see the touch of
mistressÕ hands had him trembling right on the brink of release.
ÒContain yourself until I can get your measurements, sir!Ó Mistress
admonished. When he groaned again she stuck a fingernail directly into his
peehole, as if her delicate bit of nail could hold back his torrent. The man
bit his lip, trembled, groaned again. ÒControl, sir, control. You must hold
yourself in all night, not just for the inspection.Ó
ÒI-I canÕt,Ó the man admitted suddenly, giving a final, heart-rending
tremble.
Mistress lifted up the front of her dress, displayed her bush to him.
ÒDo you have no consideration for my pussy?Ó She asked. ÒSee how neatly
IÕve trimmed it, just for you, for your private enjoyment. Making sure
every little curl was just so...Do you think you were chosen because you
could cum quickly? Like some boy in high school? YouÕre supposed to be a
man, and hold yourself--Ó It was too late. With a shocked gasp Mistress
realized suddenly he was shooting his seed right into her pretty mound.
She looked down, open-mouthed, dismayed, as he poured shot after shot of
sperm directly onto her pubic hair. At last the torrent ceased and
mistress stood there, appalled at what heÕd done to her dell. ÒLook at me!Ó
she cried. ÒI spent hours doing my hair, putting up makeup, picking out
clothes, and you just shoot your wad right onto me? The sperm dropped in
great globs from her mount, as if she herself was somehow magically
endowed with an ability to make seed. Much of it, though, remained,
spoiling her with male fluid that would not come out without careful
washing. She hadnÕt been slimed, but spermed.
Mistress tucked the front of her upcurled dress under her sash. She
did not want to get sperm all over it. She would just have to let her
pretty bush show. She took her special box, that which had held our
collars, and pulled out a small black ring. A cockring! WeÕd teased the
boys at school about putting them in those, discussed the possibility at
great length at our girlÕs slumber parties. Now I finally got to see one, a
real one. I watched, mesmerized, as mistress slipped the ring firmly over
the flagging cock of the man whoÕd just come.
ÒThis will control your emissions better in future, sir,Ó mistress
told him. He was young, he would be up again soon, I could tell. Even as
her fingers fitted the ring to his staff it strengthened, inspired by her
touch. ÒI didnÕt think you were such a little boy that youÕd need one of
these. ItÕs for training, you know, training cocks to retain their seed until
the appointed moment. The moment when (ahem) the woman is ready.Ó
Before her hands left him he was quite stiff again, the ring hopelessly
bound round his penile base, digging into the flesh there. His organ seemed
bigger now, bloated by the ring. He could do nothing to rid himself of it,
short of cuming. And he wasnÕt about to let that happen, I could tell! The
men chided him that theyÕd buttfuck him if he couldnÕt hold himself in a
second time. Tremblingly he stood there, his dick imprisoned, yet lewdly
shown. Mistress moved on to the next man.
ÒWhy, youÕre not as big as the last fellow, sir,Ó Mistress scolded
him, taking his measurements. Indeed. The first was chosen, it seemed,
almost for his penile attributes themselves. He was young and looked like
a swimmer, but his cock was deliciously big. HeÕd gotten in based on its
size, I thought, not because of his status. The other men, older, looked
like dignified businessmen, but the boy whoÕd spurted looked like someone
who might deliver a pizza to your door. But in a tuxedo, of course, like the
smashing one he wore now. My eyes remained on him even after mistress
had left him; standing with his penis exposed, quivering madly in the
confines of the cock ring. I longed to rise from my chair, tear off my gag,
and then gag myself on his rod, make him spurt down my throat. Master
saw me admiring him, admonished me silently with his gaze. Wilfully I
glanced away, looked upon the young boy once more, drank in his cock with
my eyes. A glance back at master found him brimming with silent anger. I
tossed my mane of hair, impishly refused to look at him after that,
preferring instead the boyÕs wondrous organ, a feast for eyes and pussy
both.
ÒGirls, please rise,Ó Mistress told us when sheÕd finished taking the
last manÕs measurements. The others got up, but mistress had me remain
seated, for I was gagged. ÒEach girl to a man other than her master,Ó
mistress ordered, Òfor to do otherwise would be a waste of
opportunities!Ó The girls padded out, lined up one to a man, and each man,
knowing beforehand what must be done, forced the girl to her knees. He
stuck his dick in her face and ordered her to suck it. Even mistress was
included, dropping to her knees to take a man next to her husband. Linda
was assigned to my master. I hoped, maliciously, that heÕd spurt all over
her pretty camisole.
I watched as the girls, choking first, then getting hold of
themselves, sucked each man deep into her throat. Some deeper than
others, of course. Rose and Linda looked least able, while Kitty and
mistress seemed to plumb new depths with the offered cocks. Why go the
route of the tight-clasping pussy when the tummy can be fertilized
directly? A silly question, of course, but I nonetheless thought the girls
looked like extras for some Aliens movie, their heads fastened to cocks
that would impregnate them with some alien spoor.
Like milkmaids at milking time the girls bobbed their heads, up-
down, up-down, rhythmically drawing forth the menÕs seed. Yet, reluctant
steers, the men held back, grimacing. We had our own stud farm, it
seemed, yet the chosen bulls were reluctant to lose their strength. At
last each girl received a messy tribute in her mouth. Linda spluttered,
losing some of the precious seed, shocked at the indignity of having a man
come in her mouth. Kitty and mistress worked their own men until theyÕd
claimed every last drop. Even the young man came again, spurting lustily
into RoseÕs mouth, and I envied her. When the young ladies rose they all
had sperm moustaches, like little girls, save that the milk theyÕd drank
could make babies grow in their wombs.
ÒMmmm, delicious! Thankyou, sir,Ó Mistress said to the man sheÕd
serviced.
ÒIt tastes awful!Ó Linda protested, trying to lick all the sperm off
her upper lip. Mistress gave her bottom a playful slap and told her to get a
cock ring.
With glowing eyes, each girl fitted a man with a cock-ring. Master
seemed to take newfound pleasure in persnickety Linda. Her gloved hands
fitted him carefully. She held him ever so daintily, trying not to get her
lace mittens sticky. When the ring was pushed home she knelt and licked
him again, not liking it, she told him, but feeling she must do him at least
as well as the other girls. Soon, lured by her tongue, master was hard
again. He seemed to want to rod Linda and spurt in her again.
ÒNo, sir, we musnÕt,Ó Linda said, glancing sideways at the other
girls. They, like Linda, had given their assigned men a welcoming lick,
bringing them back from the dead, so to speak, making them rise once
more to play all night; cockrings now safely in place.
ÒGirls, now that we have welcomed the men we must welcome each
other,Ó mistress told her young charges. The men retreated to chairs,
watched with expectant eyes. Mistress selected Linda.
ÒWhat must be done?Ó Linda asked, wide-eyed.
ÒWe must kiss,Ó mistress replied.
ÒOh, I donÕt like kissing girls!Ó Linda whined. Mistress simply turned
her around. Then she knelt. She placed her hands on the insides of LindaÕs
thighs. ÒOh! I can feel your breath on my bottom!Ó Linda exclaimed.
Gently mistress forced Linda into a wider stance. She looked at the rest
of us. ÒItÕs called Ôbottom smooching,ÕÓ Mistress told us. What the
eskimos at the South Pole do.Ó With that she parted LindaÕs hinds and
thrust her mouth right into the girlÕs crack! ÒOh! You are kissing my
asshole!Ó Linda shouted. She teetered in her booties, almost falling
backward over mistress as the woman speared her anus with her tongue.
ÒMaÕam! Please!Ó Linda cried. The girl, bent backward, catching herself in
a backwards fall by landing her hands on mistressÕs shoulders, bleated
like a lost lamb. Indeed, we were all lost, it occurred to me, cocks and
now asses exposed to the most intimate of oral caresses.
There was a loud smooching sound, mistress making it for effect,
and then she withdrew her mouth and tongue from LindaÕs hiney. ÒThis is
the proper way to greet friends at an orgy,Ó Sandra told us, addressing all
us girls, as she lifted her face from between the bunching, youthful cheeks
of LindaÕs bottom. SandraÕs lipstick was smeared a little, and I thought I
caught a trace of brown on her tongue. This was worse than being a
brownnose!
Sandra rose, took Linda by her diminutive shoulders and spun her
about. ÒNow, you greet me,Ó Sandra told her. (I was beginning to think of
her as Sandra now, instead of mistress. With all those strange, hulking
men present she seemed more one of us now. They just gazed, detached,
resting in the somnolence of their stuffed easy chairs. One of the men had
poured drinks for his Òbrothers in ringsÓ and they quaffed them liberally,
perhaps to ease the pain they were feeling from those awful cock rings!
Linda was on the verge of blubbering. ÒOH! I shanÕt greet you, like
that! Never!Ó she cried.
ÒYou must learn it, dear,Ó Sandra said with surprising understanding,
as if she herself had wrestled with a similar lesson not too many months
back. ÒYou are very beautiful and your husband will no doubt want to show
you off at many, many orgies. You must know proper behavior when you
arrive, lest they think you some unskilled minor and refuse you and your
husband admittance. That is why we have this little school here, donchÕa
know?Ó Linda glanced anxiously at her husband, her eyes growing wider as
they crossed over the forest of toadstool cocks all standing up, long-
stemmed and bloated. His eyes were stern. He was suffering his own
agonies at this very moment, on his most important part. He would brook
no mercy for her silly asshole!
ÒBoo Hoo!Ó Linda sobbed. She slid down SandraÕs body. Her wet tears
spilled from her eyes and wet SandraÕs tummy as she dropped to the floor.
Hitting the floor with her knees, softly, LindaÕs eyes jolted open. Her
mouth was right at the bush of another woman. Sandra grabbed her man of
red hair.
ÒOh, so you wish to give me the personal greeting?Ó Sandra laughed.
The men chuckled.
ÒOh, nooo! Your bottom is much better --Ó Linda yelped. But it was
too late. Bending her legs into a bow, a wishbone of desire, Sandra forced
LindaÕs pretty young face directly up into her twat. ÒDonÕt stop Ôtil I taste
like honey,Ó Sandra said. Then she looked over at the men. ÒShe will need
encouragement,Ó Sandra told them.
My own master looked at a man beside him. ÒIs she your wife?Ó he
asked.
ÒYes,Ó the man replied.
ÒMay I do the honors?Ó my master asked.
ÒFor me to do it would be, as Sandra said, Ôa waste of
opportunities,ÕÓ LindaÕs husband replied.
My master rose and undid his belt. He pulled it out of his belt loops
with a quick, menacing slither. He doubled it as he advanced across the
room, his big cock waggling and tossing bits of pre-cum here and there as
he came toward us. I could say nothing. I was gagged.
Master bent and thrust a hand straight into LindaÕs wiggling hiney.
Roughly he parted her asscheeks with his thumb and sought her newly-
kissed hole. Its wetness eased the bold insertion of his thumb into it.
LindaÕs back bolted upright. Her face popped from SandraÕs dell
before being ruthlessly shoved back into her waiting twat. With his
fingers master dove within LindaÕs sweetly wet pussy. It was excited
despite her misgivings. Almost as roughly as master had captured her,
Linda now wriggled her bottom in an effort to free it. But Master was
strong. There was no escaping his grip. The effort seemed to tire him,
though. He would give her a reason to settle down.
Master released LindaÕs behind. For a moment she seemed to buck it
up with glee, thinking sheÕd won, showing it off to the world as being free,
her own possession.
WHACK! Master brought his belt down hard. Linda screamed into
SandraÕs cunt. Her face seemed to plow into it more deeply, as if refuge
awaited her there. Her bottom, so nobly free just a moment before, now
reared up with pain.
WHACK! WHACK! A double salute! One for each enchantingly peevish
asscheek. Linda cried into SandraÕs cunny, wetting it for her.
ÒLick, darling, lick! It is not how wet it is, but how it tastes,Ó
Sandra advised. ÒDonÕt try to take a shortcut by simply crying into it.Ó
Master continued his remorseless, blasting assault, and as I watched
I realized that whatever he did to Linda would probably have to be done by
LindaÕs husband to me! He seemed to savor the blows. They relieved him
of thinking about his own agonized organ.
Suddenly I leaped up. Stumbling across the room in my new boots,
my hands bound firmly behind my back and my mouth gagged, I approached
the trio. My big boobies bounced freely, the only part of me that wasnÕt
restrained. I dropped to my knees beside Linda. Through my gag I begged
her to lick as ferociously as possible. If only to spare my own bottom!
I felt rough male hands in my hair, at the back of my head. My
master! Would he punish me? Certainly IÕd not been given permission to
rise from my seat at the table. Ah! He undid my gag. It fell down around
my neck, half buckled still, but loose enough for my mouth to be free of it.
A second collar. It could be replaced any time.
ÒLick! Lick!Ó I cried, and drove my face in beside Linda, fighting to
get at SandraÕs pussy. Linda howled as another searing stroke of the belt
assailed her. I was spared, for my own ass was reserved, I knew, for
LindaÕs husband. To spare myself I licked like an earnest doggie at
SandraÕs cunt. Master walloped LindaÕs tender hiney again. From the
corner of my eye I spotted it in a mirror. It was rapidly approaching the
color of a ripe tomato. Linda waggled it about as if begging someone to
pick it, but no one came. Like an over-ripe tomato it would soon be, left
outside in the burning heat of the midday sun.
ÒYou taste like honey!Ó I cried suddenly, triumphantly to Sandra.
When I looked up I saw that her nipples were like coral, poking hard into
her party dress. Her face was uptilted, passionate.
ÒYes! Yes, I must,Ó was all she could say, moaning it out. Mistress
was almost our slave now, and ruthlessly master made it so by grabbing
both myself and Linda by our hair and yanking us back from her.
ÒShe must not cum,Ó Master said gruffly to us, as if weÕd been
disobedient in the first place for licking her!
Kitty had watched all with ravenous eyes. The girls had settled back
into their seats around the table, but Kitty rose boldly now. Sleeking her
hands down her thighs she looked over at the men for permission. They
nodded. She smiled. A catÕs thankyou.
Casual in her indian-wear, her little beads jangling prettily, Kitty
came over to Sandra. Politely she knelt and eased SandraÕs legs fully
apart. With one little lick she tasted her.
Òmmmm,Ó Kitty said. She smiled, her lips wet, turned her head back
over her shoulder toward the men. ÒMay I have more?Ó she asked.
ÒNot now, not now,Ó a man replied. He seemed mesmerized by her
lioness qualities. She was the lioness king. His penis quaked with desire.
He longed to let her romp and roam over him, master him. I guessed he
must be the man who married her. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he was another
man, moved by her performance. We were all advertising here, I supposed,
showing off our best parts in the living room, for later copulations in the
bedroom. Cocks might be put to pussies all, or not, and who did whom
first was being decided right now. Which did I like best? My mind fled
from the question. Could I really be about to embark on a night of
passionate, unbridled Fucking? I had no experience of it. New phalanxes
of butterflies took off in my tummy. I stared at the big organs, arranged
like cannons ready to fire, across the room. Their owners saw me staring,
smiled back at me like Cobras waiting to strike.
Trying to recover herself, Sandra straightened her dress, pulled on
its hem. She went to a shelf and picked up a brush. With light strokes she
glossed her hair, tidied it. She placed the brush back down, delicately, as
if intending to use it more later, perhaps for other purposes.
When she returned to the table, Sandra picked up a teddy-bear shaped
bottle of honey. She seemed to have a new use in mind for it, though
previously we had all used it to sweeten our tea. What else could one do
with honey?
Sandra urged us to our feet. ÒCome, dears, lets visit a bit with the
menfolk,Ó she urged. She guided us before her across the room. In front of
the men we lined up, shivering in our nudity, yet all dressed and undressed
still in our party costumes.
ÒHereÕs something to get you started,Ó Sandra said to me, and pushed
the bottle of honey right up against my pubic hair. She squeezed the
plastic bottle, it squirted. Honey besmirched my carefully groomed dell. I
gasped. Sandra turned me round and ordered me to bend over. I bent,
trembling. I put my wrists to the front of my boots. I was in some new
P.E. class, doing toe-touches for what purpose I knew not.
ÒOh!Ó I gasped. The tip of the squirt bottle found my virgin anus and
violated it. In it went, penis like, and when lodged within my clenching
tightness it released its cargo. ÒOoooh!Ó Honey shot up my ass. I turned
my head round, gawping with embarrassment at Sandra, the men. How
foolish I felt! Getting honey squirted up my asshole? This was silly,
ridiculous. And so very, very naughty! What would the 911 people think of
this? It would make sky-high ratings on AmericaÕs Most Wanted.
For good measure Sandra gave me another shot, a long one, seeming
to relish the fact that she was the first to deflower my hiney. ÒYou may
rise, dear,Ó she said finally, reluctantly. I stood, turned about slowly,
cheeks clenching, embarrassed to face my audience. The men grinned at
me. They would see me do this and much else tonight, I feared.
Each girl was honeyed in turn, Kitty at last doing Sandra herself. We
looked pretty, I thought, with our sticky dells, such obvious
advertisements for love. Mistress admired her handiwork, glanced at the
men for approval. They nodded, delighted.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive.
Type: roller666@earthlink.net into the ÒPower SearchÓ box.
Click on ÒFindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-----Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
Or via the Web:
http://www.eroticstories.com
http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place
in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges:
Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
-----Great sites:
http://www.nambla.org
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF story EMISSION