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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
ENSLAVED TO EROS
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Chapter Three
I had arrived at Miss WoodÕs made up, with my hair done up in
pigtails and a fetching cami doing its best to keep me modest. IÕd touched
up my makeup behind the screen, in her pretend doctorÕs office, and she
and Jane had attended to my dell, giving it a special beautification. Yet it
had all been utterly ruined by the lusty depredations of the three boys.
TheyÕd left me with sperm oozing profusely from my cunt, and with
nipples so sore the air itself seemed to sting them. As I was undone from
the table by Miss Wood and Jane, and helped up, I felt like a complete
tramp. I could barely stand when they put my bare feet onto the floor.
Sperm ran freely down the insides of my cunt. I felt like a boy must feel,
when heÕs messed in his pants. Except I was a girl. Girls didnÕt have
sperm, unless they were slutty enough to let boys shoot it all over them
and up inside them.
ÒMy, how messy she is,Ó Miss Wood told Jane. ÒShe has no respect
for her body.Ó
ÒI agree,Ó Jane smiled. ÒShe smells like a boysÕ locker room.Ó
ÒAnd a boysÕ latrine, too,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒLook. SheÕs let boys
shoot their jism all over her. Next thing you know, theyÕll be peeing on her
too!Ó
Jane laughed and her eyes gazed at me mirthfully. WeÕd already
played that game, in her bed, with her husband and Nick, earlier in the
evening.
ÒShe is a total slut,Ó Jane agreed. ÒAnd IÕll bet sheÕs pregnant too,
with all that sperm inside her.Ó
ÒNo doubt,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒFortunately a girl as young as she is
can still be dealt with. LetÕs take her back to my classroom, where I can
deal with her properly.Ó
ÒWill it be sufficient?Ó Jane asked. ÒShe has a poor posture. Look
how unsteadily she stands. Perhaps she needs to be put someplace she can
be tied.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Miss Wood agreed.
ÒOh, please! I canÕt take anymore!Ó I whimpered.
Jane grasped me by my right breast, as if I were a sack of potatoes,
which, indeed, I felt very much like, at that moment, being so completely
used by the boys and left unceremoniously by them on the table, their jism
running down the insides of my thighs. I winced. It hurt for the air itself
to touch my tits, let alone JaneÕs fingers. Miss Wood rubbed her hand all
over the bare skin of my bottom, savoring its nakedness.
ÒLove is firmness, Bambi,Ó Jane told me.
Miss Wood peered at me closely.
ÒShe has had enough,Ó Miss Wood declared.
ÒHmmm?Ó Jane asked.
ÒI will not take a girl beyond what she can tolerate,Ó Miss Wood
said.
ÒBut with me you--Ó Jane began.
ÒYou were older, dear,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒShe is only 13.Ó
ÒYou wish us to leave, then?Ó Jane asked.
ÒYes, dear. Though I regret it, and have had no satisfaction for
myself,Ó Miss Wood said. She brushed a hand back through her hair.
ÒYick!Ó she said. She pulled her fingers out of her hair. They were laden
with sticky jism that one of the boys, in his eagerness to stick himself
somewhere, had shot into it. She looked at her cum laden hand. ÒSave,
that is, for the bit of playing I did with the boys.Ó She smiled. ÒThere
will be other nights when she can taste the cane.Ó
ÒIt is a disappointment,Ó Jane said.
ÒI do not wish to break her down, but to build her up, through this
training,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒIt is designed to enhance her wilpower. Were
we to proceed any further tonight, her training would have the opposite
effect.Ó Miss Wood kissed my cheek. ÒYou have done well, Bambi. Feel
proud of yourself. You have shown great boldness in the face of the
unknown. You will make a very fine model, or whatever it is you wish to
be in life.Ó
I turned my head to her. Tears, already brimming in my eyes, began
streaming down my face.
ÒMiss Wood,Ó I stammered. ÒWill I-- Will we meet again?Ó It
seemed a very odd question, considering all sheÕd put me through. Every
fiber of my being wished simply to escape, to get out of that awful house,
and away from her. And yet, she had been merciful to me, in the end. And
sheÕd pampered me. SheÕd paid attention to me. SheÕd found needs I didnÕt
even know I had, and filled them.
ÒPerhaps,Ó Miss Wood said. There was a sparkle in her eye. She
kissed my cheek. ÒPerhaps we will,Ó she said.
I was given a quick bath upstairs by both women, so I wouldnÕt make
a mess in JaneÕs car. Miss Wood wrapped a towel around her head to keep
from getting more of the boysÕ jism on me. Then, at the front door, she
kissed me goodnight. She did it right on my lips, with the front door
behind me. Jane was holding it open. I was wrapped in a big, fluffy towel,
but it was wrapped high on me, and as Miss Wood drew me up on my
tiptoes, kissing me, the towel rose on my body. It exposed the underside
of my fanny. It was nude. The wind blew in the front door. It touched my
bare ass. I shivered. I hoped nobody was passing by out on the road.
ÒGoodbye,Ó Miss Wood breathed, letting me part from her.
Impulsively I rose on my toes, on my own this time, and kissed her cheek.
ÒNight,Ó I said. Then I nearly collapsed, I was so exhausted. Miss
Wood caught me in her arms and passed me to Jane. She took my hand and I
walked unsteadily, a towel wrapped warmly round my head and another
around my body, but my heinie still showing its underside, down the front
steps. Jane carried her bag, that sheÕd brought things in; some played
with, some not. Diapers, a baby bottle. The camisole IÕd worn. A pacifier.
Jane drove me back to her home. I fell asleep in the car. When we
arrived, she woke me, and led me sleepily into her house. Katie was still
there, with Rob and Nick. They were still in the living room. But the Clue
game had been put aside. Instead, Katie lay on the living room floor.
There was a container of Redi-Wip in her hand. She was lying on her back,
merrily squirting whipped cream all over herself as the two men bent over
her. They both had stiff erections. Their eyes showed hunger as they
lifted them to Jane and I.
ÒAre you boys having fun?Ó Jane asked.
ÒYeah,Ó Rob answered. ÒHow was your visit to Miss WoodÕs?Ó I
began to falter, standing beside Jane, and she caught me.
ÒShe has had enough for this evening,Ó Jane told her husband. ÒIÕm
going to take her home.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Rob said. He looked at me. But his eyes didnÕt mirror the
passion I felt for him. I was just a girl. Young, attractive, but just a girl.
HeÕd had girls work for him before, in his flower shop, and no doubt I
wasnÕt the last. I felt relief, in a way. I felt embarrassed at having peed
in the bed with him and now I wasnÕt sure I liked him. Perhaps it was just
jealousy. HeÕd stayed behind, at the house, after all. With Katie. I looked
at her. She squirted cream into her dell.
ÒSome goes here too, of course!Ó Katie announced. ÒI saw this once
on Playboy!Ó
ÒYouÕre too young to watch Playboy,Ó Nick told her.
ÒYes, but IÕm not too young to *be* Playboy!Ó Katie assured him.
ÒIÕm the dessert of the month.Ó
ÒOr of the night,Ó Rob sniggered. Katie, if she heard it, ignored him.
Instead she turned her head and looked back at myself and Jane. ÒIÕm going
home too, just as soon as we have dessert!Ó Katie called out to us. Was
she afraid weÕd leave her alone again, a 12-year-old, all by herself with
two grown, randy men? I did not know. As for myself, I was almost
beyond exhaustion. I could barely stand. I groped with my hands at the
sofa. Jane saw it.
ÒYes, dear. You have had quite a night,Ó Jane said. ÒWas it scary
being bound to that table, while strange boys fucked you?Ó
ÒVery,Ó I said, almost inaudibly. She laid me down on the couch.
Katie rolled on her tummy on the floor. She handed the Redi-Wip to
Nick. ÒPut some on my bottom,Ó she told him. ÒI want it all over me, just
like I saw on T.V.Ó
ÒIf you insist,Ó Nick said. ÒMind if I cool down my erection first?Ó
ÒYummy!Ó was all Katie said in reply. Nick pointed the can at his
dick and fired it.
ÒOhhh!Ó Nick said. ÒThat feel pretty good.Ó He levelled it at KatieÕs
bottom. Slyly he reached out and parted the cheeks of her ass.
ÒOh, not in my hole!Ó Katie screeched. Nick gave her a squirt right
between the halves of her bottom.
ÒYoook!Ó Katie shouted. ÒDonÕt!Ó She wiggled her bare heinie. Cold,
wet cream oozed up from between her tight cheeks. ÒThat feels funny,Ó
she gasped.
ÒHow about if I put something a little more substantial there?Ó Nick
asked. There was a touch of menace in his voice. Quickly he mounted her,
straddling her small body. He put his cock to the furrow of her behind.
ÒNoooooo! I canÕt take any more that way!Ó Katie screamed. Her
scream was so loud it made my ears hurt. Sleepily my eyes closed, then
opened. Was Nick really going to force himself up her ass? SheÕd already
been violated there once tonight.
No, he was not. I watched, groggily, as Nick rolled Katie on her back.
She kicked up her legs. Her knees bumped his testicles. He squirted cold,
wet cream into the warm place between her legs. SheÕd already done
herself there, but not as thoroughly as Nick now did her. When she was
piled high with cream, almost as if she sported a cock, there was so much
of it piled between her legs, Nick bent and kissed her. His eyes flamed
with passion. Real passion, I thought. Not just lust, as Rob seemed to
show Had Nick fallen in love with Katie in the few hours IÕd been gone? I
did not know. She was only 12. He was a grown man. Still, whatever his
eyes showed, it seemed better, I thought, than what RobÕs eyes had
offered, I thought, summing up the evening. I was half in and half out of
sleep now. Rob, it seemed to me, was only waiting for one more
opportunity to spend. Even Miss Wood had shown more real passion for me
than Rob had. But one had to experience things like this to know them
truly. I could have sworn, before the evening, that he truly loved me, and
was only waiting to rid himself of his wife to have me forever.
Something about JaneÕs teasing got to me more deeply than IÕd
imagined it had. Speaking to me in the bath, after weÕd peed in her bed,
before we went to Miss WoodÕs, I wasnÕt sure if Jane was serious. About
bondage. And discipline. Real bondage and discipline. I knew I wasnÕt. IÕd
simply been passionate, confused aroused. Yet, a month later, shopping for
my mom at the grocery, I bumped into Miss Wood. She seemed happy to see
me. I wondered if IÕd feel embarrassed, talking to her in the grocery. Yet
except for a blush I managed it okay. She asked me how I was doing. I told
her I would be on Christmas break soon. She asked if I had a boyfriend to
enjoy Christmas with.
ÒYes,Ó I lied. I had several guys who liked me. Guys were plentiful,
for a girl like myself. But none of them were special. And I had Larissa,
of course, my girlfriend. And Katie, who called me once or twice, to ask
about Nick. I wasnÕt sure if she was seeing Nick regularly or not. She
lived far from my house. But Nick, of course, being a man, could drive
wherever he wished. Perhaps he visited her, at her house. I didnÕt know.
Sometimes I dreamt of her. She reminded me so much of Amber, whoÕd IÕd
Ôdone timeÕ with, in the cave, as Larissa and I referred to our experience
there now. Once I dreamed that Katie and I went to Candyland together,
and made all the candy behave. A silly dream.
ÒThe week after Christmas I am flying to California,Ó Miss Wood
told me. ÒI have a small cabin there, out in the desert. I have chickens, a
pig, a horse.Ó
ÒA horse?!Ó I asked. My heart jumped. I loved horses, though IÕd
never gotten much of a chance to ride any, except once or twice at the
fair.
ÒYes,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒI had planned to bring a friend but... she
isnÕt able to cum,Ó Miss Wood said. She bit her lower lip. She seemed to
say the word ÔcumÕ, deliberately, as if to imply that the friend might have
come along, but backed out, at the last minute, due to some kind of mental
reservation. She looked into my eyes wonderingly. I found myself gazing
back, with equal curiosity. A kind of excitement passed between us,
unspoken. I knew if I accompanied her there would be more riding than
that what one does on a horse. She was honest about that. She didnÕt say
anything, but I could see it in her eyes. I said nothing, only gazed up at
her. ÒOf course, you are only 13,Ó Miss Wood said. I nodded again. I was
about to turn away, to decline her, when I remembered how sheÕd indulged
me, even as she scolded me, at her house. I had felt quite special that
evening, with my hair done up in pretty pigtails, forced to draw cocks on
her blackboard.
ÒI-- I might be able to cum,Ó I told her. I tried to give the word
ÔcumÕ the same inflexion she had.
ÒOh, that would be wonderful,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒIt would just be
you and me, of course. After youÕve had a chance to enjoy Christmas with
your boyfriend.Ó
ÒYes,Ó I nodded.
ÒLet me give you my number,Ó Miss Wood said. She drew a scented
slip of paper from her purse. She wrote on it. She handed it to me. I
looked at it. Her phone number was written upon it and, above her number,
the words, ÔMiss Wood.Õ I knew it wasnÕt her real name.
ÒRaquella,Ó Miss Wood said. I looked up at her again. That wasnÕt my
real name, of course, but she didnÕt ask me for my real name. ÒYou are
special to me. Really, you are. I shall hold the seat just for you, whether
you are able to make it or not. Right up to the last minute. Then, if you
canÕt...Ó she paused. Òcum, I shall go alone. I do not mind being alone.Ó
ÒIÕll try,Ó I told her.
ÒNo one must know where weÕre going,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒBut you
will return safely, of course. You neednÕt worry about that.Ó
ÒItÕs possible I could--Ó I said, thinking.
ÒOnly if you wish to,Ó Miss Wood said.
My mom got a new boyfriend for Christmas. They met in the bowling
alley. I didnÕt like him much; he was overweight. But mom liked the
attention he gave her. I decided to slip away for a week and accompany
ÔMiss WoodÕ on her trip. I knew it would be unusual, and somehow that
intrigued me, even against my better judgement. There was something
magnetic about her. Something I seemed to have been looking for, without
even knowing it. Of course, it would have been more fun to be with a man
for a week, but a man hadnÕt bumped into me and offered me what she was
offering. A week of... something. I wasnÕt sure what. Just that IÕd get
plenty of ÔridingÕ in, hopefully on her horse. The thought of abandoning my
mother for a week and going off into the unknown with Miss Wood sent
chills down my spine. And it revolted me a little, too, for it would just be
the two of us. Myself and another woman. And a servant. Miss Wood had
mentioned something about a servant, when I called her on the phone. But
it had been clear from our conversation that the week would focus on me,
and the servant wouldnÕt be important. I guessed it wasnÕt a man or, if it
was a man, it wasnÕt a man IÕd be interested in. It would just be myself,
and Miss Wood. And her horse.
I managed to make the flight. IÕd let my mom worry for a week. I
left her a note, saying only IÕd be back. Miss Wood gave me a kiss when we
met at the airport. It was an honest kiss, right on my lips.
ÒI like your tan!Ó she told me.
ÒI went to a tanning salon for the last week, like you suggested,Ó I
told her.
ÒVery well. You will look even more special in the nude, then,Ó Miss
Wood replied. She took my hand. I looked around to see if anyone in the
terminal had heard her comment. Apparently, they had not. My hips
wiggled nervously as she led me ticket agent and then on down the
speedway to our plane.
We flew on United to California. When we arrived, Miss Wood rented
a car. It was a convertiable. I liked it. I had not ridden in a convertible
before. Miss Wood put the top down. Despite there just being the two of
us, she continued to insist that I call her ÔMiss Wood.Õ I didnÕt mind. I was
Raquella. We drove out into the countryside, through dry hills, along
CaliforniaÕs freeways until, at last, we turned onto a smaller road.
Miss Wood pulled off to the side of the road and looked at me. She
turned off the carÕs engine.
ÒRaquella, I would like for you to take off your top,Ó Miss Wood said
to me. I felt myself jump in my seat. I stared at her. A bird circled
overhead and let out a screech. In the distance, cows grazed in a field.
ÒWhy?Ó I asked. I tugged at the top button of my blouse. Yet I didnÕt
open it. Not yet.
ÒIt is unlikely we will see another car, from here on,Ó Miss Wood
said to me. ÒYou are coming from a cold climate. New York is very cold
this time of year, as you know. IÕd like you to feel the warmth of the
California sun on your bare bosoms as we drive along. It is not far to my
cabin from here. You will not be exposed long enough to the sun to burn.
Perhaps to tan just a little, on your breasts, but not much, because I
prefer a girl to have white breasts, as you do. But take off your top, and
your bra. I want you bare to your hips. I would insist that you be
completely nude, but sometimes the Highway Patrol does come back here,
though not as far back as I live, thankfully. If you are totally naked, and
we are seen, there might be too many questions, especially from a
policeman. But a topless girl, in California, that can be explained away.
Expecially in a car were there are only two women. Take off your blouse
and bra.Ó
ÒWhat-- what shall I do with them?Ó I asked.
ÒIÕm going to get something out of my luggage,Ó she told me. ÒGive
me your blouse and bra when youÕve removed them. IÕm going to put them
back here, in my suitcase, in the trunk.Ó
ÒBut what if the Highway Patrol--?Ó I began.
ÒLike I said, dear, that can be explained,Ó Miss Wood answered. She
opened her car door and got out. Reluctantly I unbuttoned my blouse. I
pulled it off. The hot sun struck my shoulders, the flatness of my belly.
ÒCanÕt I at least keep my bra on?Ó I asked.
ÒNo,Ó Miss Wood answered. I reached back behind myself as she
popped the lid on the trunk. I unsnapped my bra. It was frilly, and white.
I took it off. She came round to my side of the car and took my clothes
from me. ÒGood,Ó she said. ÒI like your tan. It shows off your breasts,
the way they are white against your tanned shoulders and your tanned
belly.Ó She handed me something. It was a riding crop. ÒLay it across
your lap,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒWeÕll be using it presently, when we arrive at
the house.Ó
ÒOn the horse?Ó I asked, taking the leather stick from her. My hands
trembled as I took it.
ÒNo,Ó Miss Wood answered. ÒMy horse is too valuable to be hit with
a riding crop.Ó
ÒThen--Ó I said.
ÒPut it in your lap, dear,Ó Miss Wood insisted. I obeyed. She put my
blouse and bra in her suitcase in the trunk and slammed shut the trunkÕs
lid. She got back in the car. She stared the engine. We drove off.
We did not meet the Highway Patrol during the rest of our journey.
We drove under an afternoon sun, its rays hot on my skin, but not
excessively so, making the whiteness of my breasts stand out sharply, my
nipples stiff. The jellied mounds of my tits bounced exceedingly when
Miss Wood turned off the secondary road onto one paved only with gravel.
She looked over and me and smirked at the jostling of my bare tits. She
was wearing womenÕs business attire, complete with a jacket, blouse, and
bra. Her breasts jiggled in her bra cups but they didnÕt bounce all around
like my nude ones did. I flushed.
ÒYou blush very nicely,Ó she said to me.
ÒThank you,Ó I replied. I put a palm on my bare belly. It felt warm.
Thankfully we passed between a grove of trees and fell into shade. I
fingered my navel. I couldnÕt imagine what would happen to me. One thing
was for sure, though. I wouldnÕt risk getting pregant. There would be no
men here, just she and I, for the entire week. Plus a horse and a servant.
And the servant, I guessed, wasnÕt a man.
ÒYour servant--?Ó I asked, looking across at Miss Wood.
ÒYou will not be my servant,Ó Miss Wood, misunderstanding, replied.
ÒYou will be my slave. But I will be your mistress. A love slave isnÕt like
a black African slave. It is the mistress who has the most work, in a
relationship like we will have for the week.Ó
ÒI-- I meant your actual servant,Ó I said. We passed again into
sunlight.
ÒOh. She is a Mexican woman,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒShe speaks very
little English, donÕt worry. She will not divulge what she sees.Ó
ÒI see,Ó I said, gulping. I looked down at the riding crop across my
lap. I felt like reaching over and hitting her with it, but I feared she
might crash our car. That, at least, was the excuse I gave myself, at the
time. At her insistance, I wasnÕt wearing a seatbelt.
About 15 minutes later we turned from the gravel road onto a gravel
drive. We drove through more trees. We pulled up before a small, wooden
cabin. It looked weathered and old. Chickens scattered before us.
ÒYouÕll find itÕs spartan, but sufficient for our purposes,Ó Miss Wood
told me. She stopped the car. She got out. I hesistated, sitting in her car.
She walked around to my side and opened my car door. She took my arm.
She pulled on it. I stumbled out of her car, clutching, ridiculously, at the
riding crop sheÕd given me. Just then the door to the cabin swung open and
a Mexican woman stepped out. She was middle-aged. She wore a maidÕs
cap on her head, and a white maidÕs apron.
ÒMargarit,Ó Miss Wood smiled to her. ÒThis is Bambi. Bambi, meet
Margarit.Ó
The Mexican woman nodded to me. She seemed to take it in stride
that I was topless, without a blouse or a bra. If she noticed the riding
crop in my hand, she did not remark upon it. She simply bowed, slightly,
nodding her head. Then she turned and began rounding up the chickens and
throwing them grain from a pouch in the front of her apron.
ÒHere, chickeee, chickeee, chickeee,Ó Margarit called to the
chickens. Since she was tossing them grain, they didnÕt need much
encouragement to heed her calls. Miss Wood took me by my arm and
escorted me into her cabin.
It was shady indoors, under the roof of the cabin. Miss Wood showed
me around. There was a single bed. It had iron bars for its headboard and
its footboard. There was a small bathroom. It had a sink, a bidet made of
porcelian, and an old metal washtub. There was only a tap, to draw water
from. There were no facilities for a shower or a regular bath, in a tub.
There was a small stove, a sink, a few cupboards for storing food. Out
back, on an open air porch, with the roof projecting back over it to give it
shade, was what Miss Wood called Òmy parlor.Ó It had a simple wooden
table and two chairs. The chairs were of wood but they matched neither
each other nor the table. Beyond, in a field, a large horse ran free.
ÒWhat do you think?Ó Miss Wood asked me.
ÒIt is... quite natural,Ó I offered. My voice quavered.
ÒWe will be getting to know each other quite well here,Ó Miss Wood
said. ÒBut mostly, you will be getting to know yourself, Bambi. For I will
be dressed, almost always, as you see me now. ThatÕs right. In a business
suit. This is no lesbian retreat. I hope you were not looking for that?Ó
ÒNo,Ó I said, in a quavering voice.
ÒIn fact, I have not shown you downstairs.Ó My eyes widened.
Downstairs? This was little more than a hut. ÒYes,Ó Miss Wood nodded.
ÒIÕd have to pay a larger tax if all the facilities were visible. Downstairs,
there is a proper bedroom for myself, and a full, complete bath. And
washing facilities, for clothes. And a gourmet kitchen. You will not see
those parts of the house. But I will attend to my own needs down there.
While, at the same time, you are enjoying the spartan life, up here.Ó She
laughed. ÒIt was simple, my dear, building it. You simply dig a big hole,
build what you want, and then cover it up again. The cabin was placed on
top.Ó She ran a hand down my bare back. Her fingers played along my
spine. ÒI should like to whip you, now,Ó Miss Wood said. She prised the
riding crop from my fingers. ÒI want you to bend right over and put your
elbows on the table. Take your pants down first. This is to be a bare-
bottomed whipping.Ó She touched my back where my bra usually ran
across it. ÒYou have done a fine job, tanning yourself. I can see where
your bra covered you, in the tanning booth. I trust you kept your panties on
too, while you tanned?Ó I nodded. ÒGood. Then your bottom will be as
white as your breasts are. And you did a perfect job, my dear, letting your
bra leave just a trace of a line across your back. You will train very well
as a slave, I believe, given how well youÕve carried out my instructions
already.Ó She kissed my cheek. ÒThe essence of a slave, you know, is to
be able to carry out instructions to the letter. Please pull down your
pants. Let me see how well youÕve kept your bottom white, while tanning
your legs.Ó
I was wearing jeans and knee high fringed leather cowboy boots.
Somehow, I sensed she did not wish for me to sit down on a chair, and
remove my boots, and take my jeans and panties all the way off. There
seemed to be an urgency in her eyes. In the way she pressed on my back. I
undid my pants belt, looking up at her. As soon as I had the belt undone,
she pulled it out of my belt loops and off my pants. She dropped it on a
chair next to the table. Then Miss Wood helped me with the buttons at the
front of my jeans. When theyÕd been pulled open, she took hold of my pants
round my hips. She shoved them down. It was quite unceremonious, like a
parent stripping a child for her bath. Down they went, me pushing a little
to get them down, for they were tight round my legs. She pushed most of
all, shoving my jeans down until they circled my knees.
ÒVery well. Bend over,Ó Miss Wood told me in a no-nonsense voice.
ÒThatÕs it. WeÕre both girls. ThereÕs no need to feel embarrassed at
showing me what we both have,Ó she said, pushing on my back with a
single finger now, as I bent slowly at the middle until my arms came to
rest upon the wooden surface of the table. ÒYou have brought a nice belt,Ó
she said, glancing at the chair. ÒWe will apply that to your seat also. Dip
your back. Present your bottom, Raquella. Shove it up at me.Ó She turned.
ÒHello, Margarit. Of course you may watch, my dear. She will need
someone to daub her eyes, when IÕm finished. And perhaps a cup of water.
No, no liquor beforehand. This is a mid-day spanking. We do not give
liquor to girls when they are being spanked in the middle of the day. Only
in the evening, and then only for the most severe tests.Ó
Quivering with fright, Miss WoodÕs palm pressing down on the small
of my back, I was forced to offer up my bottom. I blinked. This was
utterly crazy, I thought, gazing out at the field beyond, at the strong horse
standing in the distance. It stopped. It sniffed the breeze. I heard the
chickens out front, squabbling over the grain theyÕd been tossed.
ÒShe holds the position well, do you not think so?Ó Miss Wood asked
Margarit. They both stood behind me, gazing at my upturned ass.
ÒYes, madam,Ó Margarit said. ÒShe has a very fine bottom.Ó
ÒSo round and tight,Ó Miss Wood said.
Nervously I wiggled my ass. ÒOh, please,Ó I moaned. ÒHit me and get
it over with!Ó Miss Wood laughed. Margarit copied her, laughing with her.
ÒMy dear,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒIt is the waiting for it that is almost
more important than it itself is. Gaze out at the fields. The horse is a
male. But there are no other males here. All your suffering will be
unobserved, unappreciated, by any males, except the horse. See how he
sniffs at the wind. Does he sense the presence of a young female? Oh,
look! He is coming our way. Perhaps he wishes to mount you, hmmm?Ó
I shivered with considerable fright then. For there was no railing,
between us and the porch. His field where he galloped came right up to the
back of the house.
As I stood hunched over the table, watching the horse, he came
trotting up to the porch. There was an eagerness to his gait. He put his
nose in and sniffed within a foot of my bottom. I could feel air from his
nostrils hit my tail end as he whinnied.
ÒMargarit, please restrain him,Ó Miss Wood told our maid.
ÒYes, madam,Ó the maid replied. She walked behind me and over to
the horse. He wore no bit, no bridle. Yet her touch upon his neck seemed
to calm him. She was Mexican. She understood animals. She stroked the
underside of his large, powerful jaws.
ÒTommorrow we will put you over a bale of hay and put a dildoe up
your bottom,Ó Miss Wood told me. I did not know whether she was teasing
or not. ÒAnd by weekÕs end you will have learned to wear a saddle. You
will be a properly broken-in young mare, fit for pleasing menÕs worst
desires. Provided, of course,Ó she said, running a finger up between the
cheeks of my seat, ÒYou wish to serve such a man.Ó
ÒMadam,Ó Margarit said, still restraining the horse. ÒThere is a man,
in Mexico, named Solon. He buys young American girls and uses them to
entertain.Ó
ÒYes, I know,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒHe runs a prison farm?Ó
ÒYes, maÕam. It is for American women. Some go there voluntarily.
Others, are induced,Ó Margarit said.
ÒI have heard of it,Ó Miss Wood said. She pressed the crop against
the middle part of my bottom. I could feel its hardness indenting my seat.
ÒOh, no more!Ó I wailed.
ÒWhat? I havenÕt even struck you,Ó Miss Wood replied.
ÒI know, but--Ó I began. My voice caught in my throat. How awful I
felt, my bosoms scraping the table, my ass uplifted, feeling the stiff crop
against my skin and knowing it must hurt me soon. Miss Wood put the crop
between my legs. She slid it up between my thighs until it lodged in the
slit of my sex. She rubbed it back and forth. ÒOH!Ó I gasped.
ÒThe crop is giving you pleasure?Ó Miss Wood asked.
ÒA little,Ó I sighed. A wave of pleasure passed up through my
tummy.
ÒShe is excited,Ó Margarit said. ÒSee how her bare legs and her
knees tremble. She likes showing her bottom this way, with her pants
rudely pulled down.Ó
ÒI know,Ó Miss Wood said. ÒOf course there must be punishment, for
being such a bad girl. Did you know she rode all the way over here without
her top on?Ó
ÒYes, I saw it. Showing her bare bosoms to all the world,Ó Margarit
said.
ÒSo of course I yanked down her pants the minute we got here,Ó Miss
Wood said.
ÒA good idea, maÕam. Whoa, horse! She is not for you. Not today,Ó
Margarit said to the stallion. My hips rolled. Miss WoodÕs free hand
returned to the summits of my back hemispheres and scouted between
them. ÒDo not tighten yourself, Raquella,Ó Miss Wood instructed, as my
bottomcheeks tensed against her finger. When I relaxed, she dipped her
finger between them. She pressed a fingertip to my rosehole. ÒYes,Ó she
said. ÒIÕll force the dildoe up you right there. Out in the sunshine, where
anyone passing by might see. Although,Ó she added quickly, Ònobody
should, back here. It is quite remote. That is why IÕm free to spank you
out on the porch. Scream to the hills, if you like. Only Margarit and I and
the horse will hear you.Ó
ÒPlease do it, if you must,Ó I said. I waggled my bare ass at her.
ÒAh, she is showing it off now,Ó Miss Wood told Margarit. The horse
neighed.
ÒShe is lewd, madam. Is that the word?Ó Margarit asked.
ÒYes,Ó Miss Wood said. She kept sawing the crop in my cunt, making
me swoon, while at the same time fingering me deeply in my bottom crack.
I rotated my bottom about as if I were a model, whose behind was the
center of a fashion show.
ÒShe belongs on the prison farm. She is lewd,Ó Margarit said.
ÒI couldnÕt agree more,Ó Miss Wood replied. She pulled the crop from
between my legs. She withdrew her other hand off my bottom. I heard a
whistling. It was the crop being drawn back. I tensed. ÒKeep your
posture, Raquella,Ó Miss Wood warned. Then there was another whistling,
faster still than the first. Suddenly a hard, butt-wrenching smack, thin as
a pencil but deep in its impression, connected with my pert derriere.
ÒOoooWHOOOO!Ó I cried. The shock of it, after all that teasing and
waiting, nearly sent me flying across the table.
ÒShe cannot even hold her posture, Madam,Ó Margarit said.
ÒYes, she must go to the prison farm. She is disobedient and totally
untrained,Ó Miss Wood replied.
ÒShe will fetch a high price there,Ó Margarit said.
ÒOOOOH! I donÕt want to go to the prison farm!Ó I shouted. The
distant hills seemed to reverberate with my cry.
So much so that they laughed.
Jane was laughing. My eyes popped open.
ÒThe prison farm?Ó Jane asked. ÒWhat dream have you been having,
dear?Ó
I lurched on the couch. I grabbed at it and almost fell off. Morning
was streaming through the windows of JaneÕs living room. Fortunately,
the curtains were drawn, for I was completely nude.
ÒOh! I dreamed I met Miss Wood in the grocery, and I went to
California, and I went to Candyland too, and I was going to be sold to a
prison farm, in Mexico!Ó I blathered.
Jane kissed my face.
ÒYou must go home now, dear,Ó she said. ÒI meant to take you last
night but I fell asleep and, well, Katie wasnÕt finished yet,Ó she said. She
glanced behind her. I saw Katie lying on the living room floor. She looked
well eaten. Tongue trails ran up her creamed thighs repeatedly, right to
her dell. Her fleecy pubic hair had been completely licked clean of all the
cream that had been squirted on it. Yet new cream was dribbling out of
her now, cream from the insides of men. It came oozing out from between
the lips of her pussy and grew in a slow pile between her legs on the
carpet. Her face, except for her lips, was smeared with cream. Her mouth
lay open, and I guessed she might be oozing cream there too, real menÕs
cream, from the depths of her throat. Her titties, sitting plumply on her
chest, were covered with cream, save for their nippled tips, which had
been licked. They stood up pinkly, like cherries topping ice cream cones.
ÒKatie is finished now,Ó Jane assured me.
Later, driving home in her car, I gazed sleepily out her side window.
I saw horses. They were standing in a field. Eating grass. For a moment I
imagined they were big cocks, feeding on the grass with their pee holes.
And then I saw a woman step out from behind one of them. She had a
riding crop in her hand. She hit one of the fine stallions on his rump. I
clutched at my own. The big horse broke into a run. I watched it. As the
horse galloped across the field I wished I could be on top of it, riding it.
Even if the woman struck my own rump as we ran.
THE END
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