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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BOTTOMS IN BONDAGE
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Chapter Nine
Out back there was a carriage. Mistress led me up steps that hung
from its side, thrust me into it. A shocking sight greeted my eyes. There
were Rose, Linda, and Sandra. Compliantly, Sandra was having her arms
lifted over her head so that they could be buckled into handcuffs that
dangled from the carriageÕs ceiling. Her breasts, like twin gourds of
utmost roundness and fullness, lay nakedly and unprotected upon her chest.
SandraÕs mouth was open, her tongue offered. As a man dressed in
the gear of a footman buckled her wrists, a woman clad in an evening gown
fed her a pill. My eyes caught the label on the bottle the woman held.
RU486!
ÒYou will be inseminated anew upon your arrival,Ó the woman said.
ÒWe do not allow pregnant women to come, but of course you may be made
pregnant there,Ó the woman explained. Sandra obediently swallowed the
pill.
ÒThank you,Ó she said softly. She kissed the womanÕs hand, kissed
the palm that had held the pill.
My eyes darted to Rose and Linda. They were naked, wearing only
their hoop earrings and heels. Their pretty scarfs had been replaced with
dog collars. Rose looked innocent as ever, a faithful companion, like a dog
that would not leave its master. Linda looked frustrated, glancing up at
her shackles, pulling on them. Yet she said nothing. Her spanking had
trained her to behave.
ÒI found the fourth one,Ó Alexis reported to the woman.
ÒGood,Ó the woman replied. ÒMaster will be pleased.Ó
Reeling in shock, not knowing what to do, I found yet another horror.
A plastic cup of yellow fluid was placed between each girlsÕ legs, on the
carriage floor. It had the scent of urine.
ÒGet out of your things,Ó Alexis ordered me. ÒI must give you a
pregnancy test.Ó
ÒBut I donÕt want --Ó
ÒThat is why you must come,Ó Alexis said. ÒNow undress, or IÕll
have my footman do it, and give him the pleasure of spanking you over his
knee!Ó
I turned to Sandra to ask for her help, but she merely stared at me.
The woman, whose name I would later learn was Tammy, was forcing her
lips apart. Sandra resisted only a little, enough to show modesty.
Between her lips Tammy inserted a gag. She tied it behind SandraÕs hair,
where in its mussing it formed a kind of tangled nest for the knot, as if
receiving a precious egg there. I looked again at Linda, Rose. My
disoriented eyes had missed it at first: they were gagged too! Linda
seemed to wear hers almost as a kind of talisman, as if it spoke volumes
about her forced participation in this game, showed she was not here
voluntarily. No indeed, not Miss Prudence, Linda Holston. Her maiden
name. SheÕd escaped her husband on her first night at SandraÕs, left him to
find other women. A good bargain, sheÕd thought at the time, though no
doubt now she was having second thoughts. Pretty Rose was gagged most
sweetly, as if wearing a gag was the most natural thing for her, if her
master wished it. Of course, she too had played the naughty nymphet on
her first night at SandraÕs, escaping her master. Yet she accepted all with
a kind of innocent aplomb.
Remembering AlexisÕ vow, I quickly stripped off my lowered shorts,
then pulled off my tee. It was tight. In yanking it up I caused my boobies
to bounce. The footman, Tammy noticed. Alexis stood behind, waiting.
ÒVery good,Ó Alexis said to me. She bent over and picked up my
things. IÕd dropped them on the floor, carelessly. Did a part of me want
this? Alexis put her hand to my back and urged me to the bench. It was
hard, made of wood, with slight depressions worn into it from other
passengerÕs bottoms. Other girls, perhaps as long as 100 years ago, had
ridden in this carriage, I guessed. The shackles too looked worn, well-
used. Made of Steel from Bethlehem when the fires still burned there.
Hesitantly I sat down on the bench. I spread my fingers upon it
before lowering my ass. I felt uncomfortable upon the hard, unyielding
surface.
ÒHave you no cushions?Ó I asked, looking up at Alexis. In answer she
introduced a gag to my lips, made me take it. She knotted it at the back of
my head. It made my mane of hair sweep inward where it knotted itself
tightly across the back of my head.
ÒLift your arms,Ó Alexis told me. Looking up, I watched as she took
my raised wrists and buckled them firmly into the overhead cuffs.
ÒMen will come, to ride with you,Ó Alexis said. ÒWe will stop and
pick them up along the way. They have paid much to come to my party, a
party you will be attending for free. Remember that you are their equal,
though their ego, of course, must be satisfied. You and they will party
together, enjoying everything and working hard at your pleasure. They
have already suffered, holding themselves in for a two full weeks in order
to earn the privilege of coming. They will be forced to give of themselves
as selflessly as any girl. Keeping their egos always in mind, of course.
Men and women are different, even in a state of equality.Ó
She forced my knees apart. IÕd kept them close-pressed but she
spread them wide, glanced at my peeping cunt to make sure it met her
requirements. Tight, free of disease. ÒIf you are too tight we may have to
widen you there,Ó she said absently, as if merely reading from a list of
rules on how to swim. ÒNo running, no horseplaying.Ó Except this was a
list of ÒYesÓ rules. Yes for widening, and many other things besides.
ÒYour bottom also,Ó she added. She put her hands to my rump and drew me
forward on the bench until my pussy was quite prominently in mid-air,
only my rearmost bottomcheeks still perched on the wooden seat. ÒPiss,Ó
she commanded, presenting a plastic cup to my cunt. In the distance
Tammy slipped a strip of paper into LindaÕs pee, making sure she was not
with child.
I pissed vigorously, my pee hole spouting with all the champagne and
cherry drinks IÕd consumed. So quick and healthy was the stream that
some hit the cup and splashed out, falling in drops on AlexisÕ hand, on the
bosoms within her gown.
ÒAh, how naughty you are, and well-made,Ó was her only reply. She
was handed a strip of litmus paper by Tammy and dipped it in the cup.
ÒNot pregnant,Ó she told me happily. ÒBut thanks to RU486, we can play
pregnancy games now. You are just to think of yourself as a womb from
now on.Ó Her eyes, glazed perhaps with a sudden impulse of lust, regarded
the soft swell of my virgin belly, my sweet flaring hips. ÒYou are to think
of yourself as nothing but a womb now,Ó she said. ÒThe men are just
walking sperm-pumps, but you are just a womb, nothing more. A womb
and mammaries, growing large to give forth milk to hungry men and
babes.Ó She kissed my thigh. Wanted, I think, to kiss my tummy, but
would have had to bend like a dog to do it. She stood, fluffed her hair with
her hand. ÒYou are lucky to have a mistress like Sandra,Ó she said to me,
looking down at me. I sat still on the edge of my seat, flustered,
frightened, my eyes wide and my lips parted with the gag. ÒShe finds
parties and games for you to play, and you need only come along. So lucky.
Nod and tell me that you like it. Do not be like Linda.Ó
I stared at her. Whole formations of butterflies took off in my
stomach. I glanced at Linda. Sullen, moody, enjoying the forcefulness of
it all for it made her chaste even as she orgasmed. Had she not married?
Had she not chosen the role of wife? Did she think it came with only
taxes and checkbooks to balance, without a marital bed? She wanted it
yet wanted to fight it. Perhaps she wanted to be punished, not even
knowing her wishes, perhaps, I speculated. Wanted to be forced and raped
and fucked against her will, and punished for not submitting.
I gazed up at Alexis. ÒTell me!Ó she urged. With the gag on I could
not explain myself. There was only yes or no. In the end, for every
woman, there is only yes or no. And no sometimes means yes.
Lightly I nodded my head. My curling, half-tangled locks fell about
my face. My hair was dry now, soft. The wetness of the bubbles was gone.
Alexis smiled, swept my hair back, kissed my forehead. ÒAh, you have the
form for it,Ó she said. ÒSo slim, with such fine big bosoms, and a bottom
to match. I may want to keep you all to myself, forever, just to watch
your belly swell with some manÕs seed. Ah, to see you in the delivery
room! We have one there, for girls who choose to stay. Or abortions can
be performed in it. You may have whichever you wish, or the pill. But
enough of that! We donÕt even have the men yet, do we? Perhaps they
misbehaved and will be found to be empty. Then what should we girls do,
hmmm? Start a nunnery?Ó
She swept away then, stepped down from the carriage and closed the
door upon us, locking it. Tammy had already gone, perhaps to sit with the
footman up front. Perhaps on his lap, milking him. He might not be
allowed to keep seed in his loins, lest he fuck the female guests. Yes they
would milk him regularly, to keep him dry, I thought. He had access to
very pretty girls in very compromised positions. Yet men had paid for us
and expected us to be theirs. Wealthy men. Executives, corporate heads.
Men who had trained years in professional schools to earn the salary that
could buy them...what? Innocent young virgins, or young wives, escaped
from their husbands. And Alexis, perhaps, telling them when they could
wear their pants and when they must remove them.
Alexis returned. She carried four light but sturdy poles in her hand,
each round like a wooden dowel and about three feet in length. At either
end each dowel had a leather cuff attached. Gently she spread our legs,
having to fight only with Linda, who she gave a slap across the face. Our
small feet were buckled into the dowels. They were spreader bars.
Designed to keep us open for whatever might befall us. I glanced about,
saw the offered pussies of my three companions. Blushingly we exchanged
glances as Alexis departed again. Only Linda feigned disconsolance. Yet I
myself felt a wave of fright wash over me as, almost immediately, the
carriage lurched forward. This was no make-belive game, like our
partying on the porch with the hose. Men were coming. They would be
aboard soon.
Down back streets we clattered, I myself feeling like one of the
carriage horses as I listened to their hoofbeats. I was a womb, going to an
insemination party, nothing more. My stellar grade point average, my
talents on the girlsÕ softball field, my appreciation for my mother (even
when I knew I must disobey her), none of that mattered now. Yet the men,
intriguingly, were coming aboard as nothing but cocks. Of the walk,
perhaps, but they had to meet certain requirements also. Alexis had
dictated terms to them. More difficult terms, perhaps, depending on their
age. The young ones would have had great difficulty holding themselves in
for two whole weeks. Their balls must be on the verge of exploding! I
didnÕt know much about men, but from the boys IÕd overheard at the high
school they had to masturbate frequently. Or get laid a lot, if they were
lucky. And the young men would spurt quickly, perhaps, unable to
constrain their eager lust. Their torment, though, was almost over now,
for they could cum and cum again, quickly refilling after every
ejaculation.
The older men, I speculated, had enjoyed a relatively easy two
weeks. Their torture, though, was about to begin. Once they came, they
would have trouble getting their cocks up again. They would have to be
certain to hold themselves back until they were sure they could have no
more fun with their toys. Once they came, the party would be over for
them. They would be more likely to whip us, I realized queasily, whether
to prolong the party before they came or to further their pleasure after
they did. The young men would be all lust and labor, the old would be
langorous satisfaction from slower, more sophisticated pleasures. The
young would want to party in bed. The old would want to play rude games
with us, whipping us slowly, or just watching us play amongst ourselves,
entering only at the end to spend themselves in our honeyed nests.
The carriage stopped. Such a short ride! I did not want to see the
men, wanted to die right there on my worn carriage seat. How horrible
that I, a mere slip of a schoolgirl, should be made to play such awful
games! And then she came aboard. Of all the decadence, this was the
worst! I could see at once that she was a beautician. We must look our
best for the men, Alexis explained, entering behind the woman. The
beautician set about doing our makeup and nails. The carriage sat still as
she did her work. We were in a safer place now than behind the club, with
all its commotion, Alexis explained. How strange it was, getting my nails
done! My wrists remained buckled into the restraints above my head.
Carefully, studiously, the beautician performed her art on my nails in this
awkward position. Yet when she was done they looked more beautiful than
IÕd ever seen them before. And the other girlsÕ nails flashed with a
similar opulence. Clear, white varnish, yet with a touch of pink, making
them look like seashells washed up onto an early-morning beach.
ÒTheir hair, maÕam?Ó the beautician asked. Alexis fluffed mine,
looked at the others.
ÒLeave them,Ó Alexis replied, to my immediate embarrassment! ÒI
like the messy, tangled look. They have already been partying this
evening, perhaps orgasming on the dancefloor.Ó She cast us knowing looks.
ÒLet the men see how lusty these nervous young fillies are. Wash their
breasts, though, and their pussies. Here, let me do it,Ó she said, as Tammy
brought aboard a bucket and sponge. Alexis took the sponge and plunged it
into the bucket. She lifted it, water streaming from it, and wrung out
much of the water. Then she bathed my stiff-nippled breasts with it. She
smiled, enjoying the pillowy feel of my soft young breasts. She made my
nipples quiver, snapping them back and forth as if they were bell pushes
and she some juvenile delinquent. Lastly she wet the sponge again and
passed it back and forth over my pussy. Then she dried me, quickly and
abrasively, with a rough towel. She did each girl in turn, then stopped,
gazed at the four of us closely. Behind her the beautician and Tammy
stepped from the carriage and shut the door.
I glanced at Alexis, still wearing her rumpled party dress, evidence
of her own nightÕs partying. Her hair had been combed, though, brushed and
glossed. I half-imagined sheÕd slipped off and taken a quick shower
somewhere, then replaced the dress to look as if she had not. She looked
stunningly beautiful, a goddess of pleasure. From her I looked at the
carriage. Oh, to ride in a carriage such as this! It was a century old, yet
spiffy and new inside, save for the savored wear of girlsÕ bottoms upon its
benches. Little glass lamps illuminated its interior, complemented (at the
moment, at least) by bolder electric lights secreted within the decorated
walls. The floor was hardwood, unpolished, showing the wear of many
girlsÕ heels upon it over the years. And the benches upon which we sat
were, again, clean but pleasantly hard and unvarnished. A real wood seat
upon which a girlsÕ soft one was forced to come to terms. Forced to sit
upon as her young breasts jiggled freely, unprotected, the nipples stiff
with excitement that even her strict upbringing could not contain. Amidst
all my jitters, scared and yet longing, some small primal part of me
somewhere, deep within my womb, perhaps, admired the harsh beauty of it
all. The impossibly ornate interior, with its satin, paisley-flowered
walls, perhaps put in last century or last week. The lamps, faithfully
flickering. And the certainty of the hardwood beneath my fatted rump,
promising uncompromising games at the party. Games of sport where
bottoms were made to jump and girls to howl, to beg and to receive.
Alexis surveyed us. We seemed to be at a crossing point, standing
thigh deep in a river whose swollen flow threatened to soon engulf our
pussies. ÒGirls, you agreed to the party at SandraÕs but it got cut short,Ó
Alexis intoned with quiet, uncompromising words. ÒNow we will rectify
that. From here on you must expect to be admired for your bodies only.
And they will inspire the men to do naughty things to you. Just as they
did, perhaps, when they were little boys, catching you in the bath and
peeing on you, or pulling your hair at recess, or surprising you with a frog
when you agreed to kiss them. As they say, the only difference between
men and boys is their toys.
ÒYou survived those experiences, despite the fact that they were
thrust on you by unlearned boys groping in ignorance. Here, there will be
no such worries. You will love and be loved, and play, and toil, and
certainly the men will want to be nasty to you sometimes. But all will be
watched by me, to see that you are not truly harmed. Oh, you might wish
some days that you were enjoying the comforts of home, in your bathrobe
and with your cup of morning coffee, but such are the sacrifices that must
be made for love. The men will determine what special privileges you
receive, based on your performance as a love object. If you do as they
wish, they may reward you with an idle morning and some coffee. If not,
your morning may begin where it left off the night before, with a sound
spanking. A hickory switch upon your bottom in the softness of your bed.
It will be for them to decide, with my guiding hand staying only the worst
abuses. I have a liberal temperament. I feel a young womanÕs body needs a
good workout now and then, sexually, with everything a man can throw at
her. Let the man explore his wildest fantasies. Let him forget sexual
harassment, child molestation, and all the other Ôno noÕs.Õ Let him be told,
by me, a woman, Òyes you may take out your penis. Enjoy its length, its
girth, donÕt feel you need to hide it in your pants in front of these girls.
They are being trained to exclude ÔnoÕ from their vocabularies. Hit them,
if you wish, spank them and spit in their pretty faces for all the times
they turned you down in the real world, made you wait, or blew you off
like some kind of refuse, playing wicked mind games with you. Give them
what they need, make them take their medicine dutifully like the cunts
they really are.Ó
ÒYes, girls, I know how awful you can be to men, because I am awful
to them too. Look how I have made them wait, and see how much I have
made them pay me.Ó She tossed her hair. Diamond earrings sparkled at
me, at us, shivering with fright in our bonds. The woman was crazy! A
hedonist gone mad. Yet, deep down, in my uterus, did I know her words
made sense? How many times had I teased the boys, teased them because
they played sports badly, or played sports well but didnÕt have a car? And
how many times had I teased them with my body? Answering the door in
just my t-shirt, then denying them a date, sending them off to guilt-
ridden masturbating? Or dropping things, then picking them up, perhaps
while writing on the blackboard? Wearing my shortest skirt just so I
could drop the eraser in third period? Yet when they wanted to fuck,
needed to fuck, my answer had always been Ôno.Õ Mercilessly I would bait
them, reeling them in, only to turn away and leave them gaping at the last
moment, furious, frustrated, like fish on a dock left by the fisherman.
TheyÕd stew, unwanted, broiling away until they had to turn to the porno
shop to relieve themselves. Shamefacedly buying, furtively spiriting the
stuff out the door, then cursing themselves for being empty an hour later,
when IÕd call and offer them something they could no longer give. Or
maybe, if I timed it just right, IÕd catch them in the moment, when it was
too late to stop, when even a beckoning girl on the phone could not budge
them out of their bedroom. All these memories flooded back to me now,
half-forgotten, washing in like detritus from fallen Atlantis. Watching
me, Alexis saw my face and remembered her own memories. She felt a
kinship with me, perhaps more than with the other girls. Impulsively she
bent and kissed my upturned nose. ÒIt is a new adventure, darling! Harsh
but true. How can you know what you will like as an adult if you do not try
it? Be glad that you have mistresses that care for you, that look out for
you, that know a young girlÕs body intimately and how it must be handled,
what it can take and what it cannot take. Certainly you must go forward,
sexually. You cannot remain chaste forever. You must be a girlfriend,
lover, mom, all those things await you, and your body is ready to
experience each of them in turn. All that blocks you is your mind, and the
uncertainty you feel over the newness, the tightness, the bulging
voluptuousness of your figure. All these can be taught the ways of love.
Be glad you are learning from men under my guidance, instead of someone
foolish, unlearned, or truly brutal. Kiss me, dear, and tell me you love me
for all the things I am going to do for you!Ó Her words were liquor,
intoxicating. Knowing not what to do, I bent forward as best I could and
planted a kiss on the swell of her bosoms where they emerged from the
top of her dress.
ÒAh, how nicely you kiss, even with the gag,Ó Alexis complimented
me. She kissed me again, atop my tousled head. Then she moved to Rose in
turn, who compliantly kissed her bosoms, then to Linda, who refused to
kiss her until she received (in my opinion) a much-wanted slap across her
face. And finally Sandra, the two of them looking at each other with
battling eyes before Sandra finally accepted her special fate and kissed
each of AlexisÕ nipples, brought forth for Sandra only. Alexis lifted them
from her dress and offered them. Sandra planted a gagged kiss on each
one, then tossed her head indifferently and resumed her pose as a proud-
but-shackled love slave. She seemed less a frightened mare now, more a
willing wife ready to endure the labors of love. After all, she had
arranged for us to be brought, all unknowing save herself, yet herself
unsure of exactly what would befall the four of us.
Now we knew much better. Games, sex games, where the genitals
would be on center-stage. All else would be secondary. Food, drink, it
would be given only as the ongoing pleasure of the genitals allowed it.
And the clothing would not be optional, I guessed, it would be non-
existent. Perhaps a glove there, or a condom, a garter or a necklace.
Little more, I suspected, would be allowed to block the menÕs view of our
figures. We would be captive goddesses, and the men would prove our
mortality by breeding their young in us.
Alexis stood by the door once more, looked us over. Nude we looked
back, our titties hanging uplifted from our chests, our ribs sticking out,
our legs splayed and our pussies offered. ÒIÕm glad I received your
consent, girls,Ó she said, nodding at each of us. ÒEven you, Linda, for it
took only one slap to gain your compliance. You would make a very pretty
prisoner of war, but not a very effective one. TheyÕd know all your secrets
with a single slap.Ó She grew more serious. ÒWe have played amongst
ourselves, girls. But this time is passing away, like childhood. Where we
are going you will not refuse, or question, or bicker with the men. Or the
women, for that matter, assigned to care for you. Unless, that is, you
wish to pay the price. The game will begin now, girls,Ó Alexis said, with a
note of finality in her voice. ÒAny further protestations will be regarded
as disobedience and punished accordingly.Ó She shot a glance at Linda,
already punished a little, as if to advise her that more significant
methods of inducing compliance awaited any further outbursts from her.
Then she turned, and with a swish of her dress she stepped down from the
carriage and was gone. With a slip of a bolt she locked us inside. The next
to unlock the carriage, I knew, would be a man.
30
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