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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
DUNGEON OF DESIRE
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Epilogue
Please donÕt condemn me for how I make my living. If youÕre a
woman, donÕt feel sorry for me. DonÕt make up reasons why I should not do
this. I canÕt say I like it, but itÕs a living, and it beats most of the careers
IÕve seen professional yuppie women take up. Their schedules, their
conflicts, their false egotistical way of presenting themselves to the
world. IÕve observed them, and I donÕt want to be like them. Not now. Not
while IÕm still young. I want to stay free. I donÕt want to have wrinkles,
at least not prematurely. I just want to be me. But I do need money, and
hardworking men need a little fun now and then. So I do what I do. And
they pay me very handsomely for it.
ThatÕs a must with me: being paid well. If you canÕt pony up the
money I canÕt drop my dress. I tell them that sometimes, and they know I
mean it.
I work discreetly. Not out on the street like common, run-of-the-
mill girls. I work in executive suits or private apartments, the
apartments successful men keep when they want to have fun away from
their wives.
I drive I nice car. ItÕs red and I have to be careful where I park it so
it wonÕt get broken into. Also, I like to park as close as I can to my
assignments. Today I went to one of them.
It was bright and sunny outside. I parked my Chevy Blazer in an
underground garage after working hours, downtown, where all the best
assignments are. ItÕs a small garage, under a bookstore, although IÕve
never been in it. I just use their lot.
I stepped down out of my Blazer. I wore a skin-tight blouse, white,
just as my client instructed. I could feel my bosoms bounce as my heel hit
the pavement but my client had specifically forbidden me to wear a bra.
In the corner of the lot, just pulling in behind me (no doubt to buy
books) I saw a nerd emerge from his car. He wore glasses and had
uncombed hair and I knew instantly he had seen me. I could almost feel
him drool as I turned and walked briskly up the ramp to the alley that ran
behind the garage. I had long bare legs and I reached behind myself to
check that my miniskirt wasnÕt bunched from my sitting on it. I tugged on
the hem where the dress fell to cover my bottom, checking it and
smoothing it a little. Even the softest breeze would lift my skirt and
show my panties. I didnÕt want to have any creases that might make me
worse off than I was.
I walked briskly. I could feel the nerdÕs eyes on me and, although it
was warm and still afternoon, I knew a girl with mile-long legs in a short
skirt (not to mention no bra) was a sought after spectacle. Above me tall
glass towers loomed, with late-leaving workers in them perhaps, peering
down. Along the alley might come other pedestrians, delighted to see me,
stopping to stare as I passed, hoping the wind might catch my skirt and
reveal me.
My client, I think, watched me as I approached. He was waiting
upstairs to paddle me. Did he see me check my skirt to see that it covered
my ass? Probably. He savored my uncertainty in these moments. He told
me that soon the building next to the bookstore would be renovated and
construction workers would be laboring there.
But not today. I crossed the alley and followed it down to its far end
and stepped into the lobby of his apartment complex. I caught an elevator
upstairs. I walked down the hall to his door and knocked.
ÒCome in,Ó a voice said. It was unfamiliar. I entered anyway. This
was one of my regular appointments. I visited every week for my
spanking.
ÒOh, who are you?Ó I asked when my eyes met the person whoÕd
pulled back the door.
ÒIÕm Shantila. Are you surprised that IÕm a woman?Ó she asked. She
had dark black hair and pale white skin and wore a red jacket and red
matching red dress and black hose.
ÒWell, yes,Ó I said.
ÒDonÕt worry. IÕll give you the same paddling you always get,Ó she
replied. ÒAnd pay you the same, of course. JohnsonÕs away this week. An
emergency. But he didnÕt want you to go without your weekly spanking.Ó
I put a hand to my throat. ÒHow considerate,Ó was all I could say.
My voice felt weak in my throat.
ÒDo you always get right to business?Ó she asked.
ÒYes,Ó I answered. ÒMy MasterÕs time is very valuable.Ó Johnson
wasnÕt my master, of course. Nobody was, now. Now that IÕd learned and
been properly trained at SauronÕs. I belonged to myself. But Johnson
delighted in hearing me call him ÔMaster.Õ All my clients did. So I obliged
every one of them.
Shantila took my hand. It was limp but hers was certain in its grip.
She led me over to the desk where I always received my paddling. It was a
big desk, wooden. It had a polished surface and there was always a little
cushiony pillow waiting for me there, for me to rest my tummy on.
ÒPlease drop your dress and your panties and bend over,Ó Shantila
told me. I unzipped myself in back, just like I did every week. I was in
private now. I could show my panties without getting arrested.
Shantila emitted a little sigh as she saw my undies. My dress fell to
my ankles and I stepped gracefully out of it. I bent over and picked it up.
My panties molded my beautiful ass, leaving the top halves of my cheeks
exposed. They were sheer and had little pink bows on the sides.
ÒMy, what a gorgeous ass!Ó Shantila commented as I laid my dress
neatly on the corner of the desk.
ÒThank you,Ó I said. I reached for the ribbons of my panties.
ÒYou wear such lovely underwear,Ó Shantila said happily.
ÒJohnson, I mean Master, likes it too,Ó I replied. I slipped the ties of
my drawstrings. ÒBut he makes me take them off so they wonÕt get
damaged.Ó
ÒYes. We must do it just like always,Ó Shantila agreed. ÒHe uses a
paddle on you?Ó
ÒUmhmmm,Ó I replied, letting my panties drop seductively down my
legs. I could just draw them off my hips but Johnson always liked seeing
them slide down my thighs. And, I think, he liked seeing me have to bend
over to pick them up off the floor.
Shantila went to a dresser and opened it. ÒWhich one?Ó she asked,
looking into the top drawer. I picked up my panties and laid them on top of
my dress.
ÒThe biggest one,Ó I replied. ÒThe one with the holes in it so it will
fly faster through the air.Ó
ÒOh, you mean this one,Ó Shantila said. I glanced back over my
shoulder. She drew a large, thin wooden paddle out of the drawer. It was
raw wood. It had holes in it. I shivered.
ÒYes, thatÕs the one. It swings quite fast,Ó I said in a trembly voice.
I touched my hands to my cheeks. They were so white and soft-sleeping
now, but soon theyÕd be burning.
ÒBend over, please,Ó Shantila said in a business-like voice.
I fitted the pillow cushion securely against my tummy and then bent
forward and lay myself across JohnsonÕs desk. Shantila didnÕt have to tell
me to spread my legs. I knew I was required to show my cunny as best I
could and my asshole. I planted my feet a good two yards apart and lay my
fists by my face. I bit my lip.
ÒDoes he gag you? Does he restrain you in any way?Ó Shantila asked
me.
I sighed and tried not to think of the big paddle she was holding in
her hands. ÒIt depends on how much time he has and how good I was last
time,Ó I replied truthfully. I let a little shiver run down my spine as I
worried at her next question.
ÒWere you good last time?Ó she asked.
I held my breath. I didnÕt want to answer. ÒNo,Ó I replied.
She tossed her hair back, contemplated me. ÒWhat did you do?Ó she
asked firmly. She enjoyed my submissiveness.
ÒI- He-Ó
ÒYes?Ó
ÒHe hit me very hard and I couldnÕt keep from screaming. And I
grabbed my bottom to save it,Ó I said.
ÒTsk! Then youÕll need to be restrained and gagged,Ó Shantila
replied. I said nothing. She went back to the dresser. She returned with a
rope. It was white and soft but I feared it all the same. Shantila bound it
round each of my wrists as I lay with them at my face on the table. Then
she pulled both my wrists out in front of my head. She bound the free end
of the rope tightly around an old radiator behind the desk. It didnÕt work,
but it was very firmly bolted to the floor.
Shantila fetched a gag. She urged my lips apart and carefully fitted
the gag between them. Then she tied the ends of the gag behind my head,
in my hair. She stroked my hair down off my back so she could see all of
me.
Shantila stepped behind me again. She was about to restrain my feet
when the doorbell rang.
I froze. This had happened once before. It had been a mere salesman,
and Johnson had turned the person away, but I had felt mortified lying over
his desk, just out of view of the door, with my hands tied to his radiator.
Shantila, sensing a unique opportunity, went to the door. ÒYes, may I
help you?Ó she asked, opening it.
ÒHello, madam. Have you had an uplifting experience today?Ó I heard
a voice ask.
ÒNo, but I know somebody whoÕs about to...Ó Shantila said. ÒWould
you like to talk to her?Ó I felt fear grip my tummy. How could she? This
was unspeakable.
I heard a sniffle, as if the salesman had a runny nose. ÒWell,
actually, I donÕt mean to intrude. Perhaps if youÕd just purchase one for
her,Ó the voice continued.
ÒCome in, you dolt. Do you have to be dragged in?Ó Shantila snapped.
I donÕt know if she grabbed him or not but, a moment later, to my intense
embarrassment, I found myself glancing back over my shoulder and coming
face to face with the nerd! It was the same one whoÕd drooled over me as
I checked my skirt on my way up here. How had he managed to...?
I gazed at his rumbled shirt and his (non-matching, of course) short
pants. He must have followed me! He had a big handful of sales literature
for something or other. I yanked at my bonds. I kicked one of my legs
back, trying to break free of my totally awful predicament. Who knew
what this book worm would say about me? Could I ever park in the garage
again, knowing he might be lurking there, waiting for me and hoping to
score a peek at my ass?
ÒShe does have a lovely ass, doesnÕt she?Ó Shantila asked the nerd.
She could see his fixation with my heinie and it bothered her not when he
failed to reply at all. His mouth hung open and his tongue seemed to have
trouble staying behind his teeth. I watched to my mortification as a
drooling drip of saliva formed on his tongue and dropped toward the floor.
ÒAre you...are you...Ó the nerd stammered.
ÒAm I going to spank her? Yes. She gets spanked here once a week.
SheÕs paid for it. Would you like to watch? She has little say in the
matter, as you can see...Ó
ÒUm, yes. Do you think sheÕd like to buy some MiracleGlow brass
cleaner too?Ó the nerd asked. ÒItÕs good for polishing... your brass.Ó
ÒIÕll polish your ass if you speak to me again of buying anything,Ó
Shantila said. ÒWhat do you think this is, the Internet?Ó
ÒUm, no. Though itÕs sort of like...Ó the nerd said, gazing at my ass.
ÒCould I take pictures of her and upload her ass to all my buddies? I need
some new porn to trade and stuff.Ó
ÒJust watch and enjoy,Ó Shantila said. She put a finger to his lips to
quiet him. Then she made a face and drew her finger away and shook it in
the air. ÒYouÕre drooling!Ó she scolded him. ÒConfine your drooling to your
member, please!Ó
ÒDo you have a magazine I could use or anything?Ó the nerd asked. He
unzipped himself. I felt like a lavatory!
ÒZip up, boy. ItÕs bad enough youÕre drooling your spit all over the
carpet. I donÕt need to clean up your jism too. IÕd advise you not to cum if
you intend to wander all around inside this building selling your...Ó
ÒMiracleGlow Brass Cleaner! ItÕs the best!Ó the nerd said. He
proffered his booklets again.
ÒI donÕt see any...Ó Shantila said. She grabbed the booklets from him.
ÒYou have to ORDER it! I just collect money and give you a booklet to
show youÕve bought and how to use...Ó the nerd followed Shantila to the
window. She raised it and flung his booklets out into the open air. I felt
the warm air of the city flow in and touch me upon my heinie.
ÒWhat are you doing to my literature?!Ó the nerd shrieked. He
watched in horror as all his booklets went flying out onto the wind, to
compete with the pigeons in the air.
Shantila closed the window. ÒTheyÕll all still be down there on the
pavement waiting for you to pick them up after youÕre done,Ó she smiled.
And it was true, I knew. TheyÕd all be down there, lying in the alley.
ÒWell...Ó the nerd paused. His eyes darted from the window to my
bottom. He put a contemplative finger beneath his chin.
ÒHere. Clean your glasses,Ó Shantila said to him. She ripped a
kleenex from its paper box and handed it to him.
Shantila came up behind me. I struggled in my bonds but it was
fruitless. She directed the nerd to bring her a spreader bar from the chest
of drawers to keep my legs apart. He complied. He found the bar and
brought it to her but he couldnÕt open its telescoping ends. She had to pull
it apart for him. Then she had him bend down and affix it between my
ankles.
ÒOw!Ó the nerd cried. He injured his finger trying to buckle my
ankles into the bar. Finally, after much effort, he succeeded. I felt like
kicking him but Shantila was standing right there with the paddle.
Shantila rubbed my bottom. Her touch was light.
ÒReady?Ó she asked me. I hesitated, then nodded briefly. IÕd come
here for this. She would pay me when it was over.
Shantila drew back her hand. And the nerd did a strange thing. He
plopped right down behind me, sitting on the floor, and squeezed his legs
together. Then he pulled a small spiral notebook out of his shirt. He
grabbed a pen from behind his ear.
ÒWhat are you doing?Ó Shantila asked him.
ÒIÕm going to write all this down!Ó the nerd said happily. ÒI mean, if
you wonÕt let me take photos... of course IÕd need to borrow a camera from
you if you have one...Ó
ÒNo photos,Ó Shantila said firmly. ÒI do have some respect for her
privacy.Ó She nodded perfunctorily at me, but I was grateful for it.
ÒOkay, then. Just paddle away and IÕll write it all down for the guys
on the Internet!Ó the nerd grinned. I couldnÕt see him but I could hear his
voice and it certainly sounded like he was grinning.
ÒWhat are you going to write... SPLAT?Ó Shantila asked.
ÒUm, donÕt worry. IÕll add in some extra stuff and name it after this
girl at school who calls me a nerd,Ó the nerd answered.
ÒAlright then,Ó Shantila said. And, as if inspired by his reportage to
give me a really sumptuous punishment, she struck me as hard as she
could.
THE END
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