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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
HONEY HAVEN
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Chapter Four
I stayed in my bed all the next day. Katrina told me I was being
silly, but my bottom hurt. I lay on my tummy, feeling rather like a mother
whoÕd given birth, with my reddened ass sticking up at the ceiling.
Katrina visited me now and then and pampered me. She put cream on my
hot cheeks. She fed me a late breakfast in bed, spooning oatmeal into my
mouth while I lay quietly clutching my teddy bear, squeezing and releasing
my derriere.
Dave entered my room, late in the day. He laughed at me for being so
childish. But he lingered, watching as Katrina bathed my face with a
warm cloth while I remained resolutely in my bed, my belly flat against
the sheets, my bottom mooning both of them.
ÒI think you need to get out tonight, donÕt you?Ó Dave asked me. He
gazed at my bottom as he spoke to me.
ÒOh, how could I?Ó I answered. I could never sit down.
ÒYour ass looks fine to me,Ó Dave said.
ÒYes,Ó Katrina agreed. She reached down and touched her finger to
the right cheek of my derriere.
ÒOoooch!Ó I exclaimed, drawing in my breath.
ÒYou have one lovely line left, honey,Ó Katrina told me. ÒAll the rest
have faded away. How precious do you think you can be, over one little
mark?Ó
ÒMmmmmf,Ó I replied. I twisted my head back, trying to inspect the
damage myself. There was a hand-held mirror on the nightstand and
Katrina picked it up. Casually she balanced it in her hand so I could view
my backside. ÒOooh, itÕs a long line,Ó I said.
ÒThe executioner was a master in his technique,Ó Dave told me. ÒHe
could have ripped your bottom to pieces with that bullwhip if heÕd wanted
to.Ó
ÒHe knew I was delicate,Ó I replied. I wiggled my bottom and drew
in its cheeks. Katrina let out a giggle.
ÒYouÕre going out tonight, little girl,Ó Katrina told me. ÒNow letÕs go
downstairs to dinner so we can fill up before the evening begins. ItÕs all
you can eat. You had just a little cereal today and youÕll need more than
that if youÕre to have enough energy for the nightÕs festivities.Ó
ÒIs your hole okay?Ó Dave asked. He drew close and extended a
finger.
ÒI already checked it, dear, this morning,Ó Katrina told him. I rolled
on my side to get away from his finger. He smiled, looked at my pussy. I
put a hand over it.
ÒIÕd be happy to inspect your asshole for you if you like,Ó Dave told
me.
ÒNo thank you,Ó I answered.
Dinner was scrumptious. The food wasnÕt exotic, but I wasnÕt
feeling up to exotic food anyway. Chicken, potatoes, french fries. I was
quite happy eating an ordinary meal that I could make sense of. Dave
seemed happy too. He gorged himself on the food as if we might not eat
again for awhile. I wondered where he planned to take us tonight. Katrina
picked at her food a little. She said sheÕd had a heavy lunch. Dave grinned,
as if heÕd contributed to her fullness in some special way.
There was a woman at a table near ours. She was tall, blonde, quite
healthy looking. Dave wondered if she was from America. I think he was
going to go over to talk to her, when our waiter arrived with a note. It
was from the woman. He unfolded it. Katrina and I looked on, jealously.
Suddenly Dave grinned. He considered it a moment, then looked at the
woman and nodded. She smiled, demurely.
ÒWould you excuse me a moment?Ó Dave asked us, looking mainly at
Katrina.
ÒIf you insist, Dave,Ó Katrina answered. Dave rose, happily. He
reminded me of a boy going up to the front of his class to receive an ÔAÕ
from his teacher. When Dave had departed, Katrina reached over to his
place and picked up the note. I watched him walk over to the womanÕs
table. There was a swagger in his hips. Dave offered his hand to the
woman. She rose, and gracefully permitted him to lead her from the dining
room. They headed for the hallway where the restrooms were located.
Katrina was reading the note. I leaned across from my place to hers.
I gaped with big eyes, trying to read it. She titled it slightly, so I could
see.
ÒAm having party late tonight,Ó the note read, in a quick, cursive
script. It was written on a napkin. ÒDrinks, conversation, dancing.
Topped off w/ btm games.Ó There was a smiley face drawn after that
sentence. Then the note continued, ÒGirls fine, please bring. Dress:
lingerie. Need to measure you.Ó
That was all. A short, telegraphic message, on a napkin.
ÒWhat does it mean?Ó I asked Katrina. She gulped.
ÒIt means weÕre going to an ass party,Ó she told me.
ÒA what?Ó I asked. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat.
ÒSee?Ó Katrina pointed at the note. Òbtm. That means Ôbottom.Õ It
says, ÔTopped off with bottom games.ÕÓ
ÒBottom games?Ó I asked, alarmed. Katrina grinned at me.
ÒYou look like you just sat on a tack,Ó she said.
ÒI hope thatÕs all I sit on,Ó I answered.
Dave returned. He sat down. I looked to where the woman had been
sitting, but she wasnÕt there anymore. A waiter was clearing her table.
ÒWhatÕs up?Ó Katrina asked Dave. She looked at him innocently, as if
she knew nothing at all. SheÕd replaced the note by his plate.
ÒWeÕre, uh, going out tonight,Ó Dave said.
ÒOh?Ó Katrina asked.
ÒYeah. You know, dancing,Ó Dave said. He picked up the note. He
didnÕt offer to show it to us, but put it instead into the pocket of his coat.
ÒYouÕll have to wear lingerie, though,Ó Dave said. ÒBasques, ruffle gloves,
stockings... panties,Ó Dave added.
ÒMy, thatÕs quite specific,Ó Katrina said.
ÒDonÕt worry, weÕll go to a lingerie store after we eat.Ó Dave
cleared his throat. ÒIÕll have to go in with you, to make sure you both get
exactly whatÕs required.Ó
ÒOh, I donÕt want to go to a party where IÕm walking around in my
panties,Ó I exclaimed. I wasnÕt too keen on the ÔbtmÕ part either.
ÒWhatÕs that around your neck?Ó Dave asked. I gulped. I reached up,
touched my throat. I still wore the rope heÕd tied around my neck our first
day here. Katrina wore one too. They were small, unassuming ropes,
knotted behind our necks and sporting half-inch frayed tails. They were
slim, seductive in their simplicity, as if we didnÕt deserve anything
better.
ÒItÕs - itÕs a cheap collar,Ó I said to Dave. Katrina was feeling hers,
even as I felt my own. There was no way to remove them. A tough pair of
scissors, of course, could get them off, but without one, they were firmly
knotted to us. There was no way to untie the tight little knot which held
each one in place.
ÒAnd what does it symbolize?Ó Dave asked.
ÒThat we agreed to be your guests, and to let you be our tour guide,
even--Ó Katrina paused. ÒIn intimate matters.Ó
ÒGood,Ó Dave said. He began eating again, as if he considered the
matter settled.
ÒWhat are Ôbtm gamesÕ?Ó I asked. Katrina shot me a glare, as if she
wished I hadnÕt revealed that weÕd read the note. Dave looked up from his
food. He arched his brows. He cast a quick glance at Katrina, accusingly,
and then looked again at his plate. With excellent table manners, he cut
into the chicken breast on his plate with his knife and fork.
ÒÔBtm gamesÕ are games that celebrate the bottom,Ó Dave said. He
put a forkfull of chicken in his mouth, chewed. ÒSpecifically, the female
bottom. There will be colonics and enemas and perhaps some strings of
beads, of different sizes, put in the available bottoms to give pleasure and
see how much a femaleÕs bottom can handle. And you might also expect to
receive a penis or two,Ó Dave added.
ÒOh, then IÕll be WITHOUT my panties!Ó I exclaimed. Katrina rolled
her eyes.
ÒDave, do you really think this is a party we should go to?Ó Katrina
asked. Dave cut into his chicken, heartily enjoying his meal.
ÒI already got myself measured,Ó Dave said. ÒNot my ass, my cock.
She said she only picks the very largest and best men. She picked me.
Since IÕm going, youÕre going. IÕm not going to leave you two here, feeling
jealous.Ó
Katrina laughed. ÒOh, is that what she was doing to you? Measuring
your penis? I wondered--Ó
ÒYeah,Ó Dave said. ÒAnd she told me you two were perfect beauties.
SheÕs looking forward to meeting you.Ó
ÒAnd my bottom,Ó I said ruefully. I reached behind myself and
cupped my ass.
ÒWe can always leave,Ó Dave said. ÒAnyway, I want to see you both
in basques. That sounds fucking great! And they have to be without cups,
too, so your breasts hang freely. The woman said all the females will be
dressed that way, like French wenches.Ó
ÒSounds exciting,Ó Katrina said, mockingly. ÒEspecially when IÕm
told IÕm wearing too much, and have to remove my panties.Ó
ÒThatÕs another thing,Ó Dave said. ÒThereÕs a special greeting at
this party. And donÕt complain -- I have to wear a costume too.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó Katrina and I both asked. Our eyes lit up enthusiastically.
Dave cleared his throat, a little nervously. ÒI have to dress like a
Chippendale. All the men do,Ó he explained. Katrina giggled. I put a hand
over my mouth and barely suppressed one. The waiter at the other table
looked in our direction. I knew then Katrina and I would be going to the
party, if only to see all the cute guys in their Chippendale outfits.
A maid greeted us at the door to the womanÕs hotel suite. I didnÕt
know if she lived here, or had merely rented the room for the night. The
maid was young. She spoke to us in a language I didnÕt understand. I think
it might have been Russian. She was dressed conservatively, in a
traditional maidÕs outfit. She took our coats. WeÕd had a special evening
already, Dave not only springing for our lingerie, but for fur coats to hide
our outfits under too. Safe now in the suite, at least from the eyes of
outsiders, we let ourselves be seen. The maid hung our coats in a closet.
She motioned to Dave to undress. He wore a coat and a suit, but he had on
his Chippendale outfit underneath. He took off his coat, gave it to the
maid. He began unbuttoning his shirt.
The woman IÕd seen at dinner appeared. She came round the corner of
the foyer, from the hall, and smiled at us. She was seductively dressed in
a basque. Unlike our basques, hers cupped and covered her breasts. It rose
by broad, twin straps to her neck, where it bound her throat to hold itself
up. The front of her basque, like ours, was split down the middle, and had
been carefully tied on by a series of crisscrossing strings that ran from
her breasts all the way down the front of her belly. I could see her belly
button through the network of overlapping strings. Below, her basque
ended, right at her hips, leaving them bare. But a small panty covered her
pubis. Barely. It consisted of a very small triangle of silk, no greater in
size than the thatch it covered. It hung in place by two spaghetti thin
drawstrings that circled her waist. I guessed it was nothing but a g-
string in back, showing off her Ôbtm.Õ Garters hung down from the hem of
her basque and were attached to stockings. She wore matching heels, of
blue. Her entire basque was opaque blue silk with darker blue ruffles, and
ribbons. Her hair, like mine, was brushed to a high gloss. It looked like
spun gold. It hung down round her face and over her slim, healthy
shoulders. She seemed to exude vitality and athleticism. One might have
thought she was going to a tennis match, save for her lingerie.
ÒHi,Ó the woman said to me. ÒMy nameÕs Joan.Ó She stepped forward
and, with a quick glance of acknowledgement at Dave and Katrina, she
plucked open the front of my panties with her hand. I, like she, was
wearing a basque, except I had to use my long hair to cover my breasts, for
Dave had insisted we wear topless basques to the party.
Joan slipped her hand into my panties. She ran her fingers through
my bush, lightly.
ÒHi,Ó I answered. I blushed deeply. Nonetheless, perhaps in
retaliation, I reached for the front of her own panties.
ÒYes, thatÕs right,Ó Joan said. She plunged her hand deeper, between
my legs. I had nothing but a g-string down there and she deftly lifted it
and placed a finger within my fig.
ÒOooooh!Ó I sighed. My teeth jittered. I responded by placing my
palm into the front of her panties. I rubbed the springy curls of her
private.
ÒVery good,Ó Joan complimented me. She leaned forward and lightly
kissed my lips. Then, quick as sheÕd explored me, she withdrew her hand.
She moved from myself to Katrina. ÒHi,Ó she said. Katrina, looking
suddenly flushed, let Joan slip her hand into her panties. Katrina
responded, feeling JoanÕs muff in turn. They kissed.
Dave was almost finished undressing. He pulled his pants off over
his shoes, leaving on only a leather bow-tie around his neck, and a leather
pair, very tight and small, of underwear. His huge cock could be seen,
coiled inside the too-small triangular shorts. Below the outline of his
cock, his balls brimmed. They were so full they looked as if they might
burst the trunks. Part of his testicles couldnÕt be contained, and bulged
out the crotch strap of his shorts. I looked at it. It was hairy and looked
like part of a big fleshy water balloon.
ÒHi,Ó Joan said to Dave. He grinned. Carefully she opened the front
of his shorts. She let out a yelp as his big cock, leaping to erection,
sprung from the top of his shorts. It quavered hugely in the air. Joan
touched a shy, delicate finger to its tip. ÒMy, youÕre as big as ever,Ó Joan
told Dave. Her eyes were bright.
ÒThanks,Ó Dave answered. He reached for the front of JoanÕs panties.
Joan pulled back her hips.
ÒNo, dear, you donÕt get to feel me,Ó Joan smiled. ÒNot yet. Only
females can feel. This isnÕt an orgy. ItÕs a bona-fide party. If I let you
men feel, all us girls would be down on our hands and knees, or our backs,
a minute from now!Ó Joan stroked DaveÕs massive cock with an
appreciative finger. ÒPatience, darling,Ó she purred. Then she let go of
both his cock and the pouch that formed the front of his leather shorts.
ÒPut yourself away,Ó she told Dave. Then she turned back to the hall sheÕd
come from, leaving Dave to figure out how he was going to fit his big cock
back in his shorts after sheÕd taken it out and excited it.
Joan clasped my hand. ÒYouÕre quite young,Ó she said to me. I
gulped, instinctively, thinking I was about to be bounced, somehow,
because of my age. Then she smiled. We paused in the hall. She seemed
intent on drawing something out of me before she let me pass around the
corner into the other room. Katrina paused, watching us. Dave stood
behind us, struggling to stick his hardened cock somehow back in his
pants. ÒDo you know what this is?Ó Joan asked me, frankly. I was looking
at her eyes and could only guess at what she meant.
ÒA party?Ó I asked. Joan nodded. She ran a fingernail up the crossed
ties at the front of my basque. It was sharp. But for the strings, it might
have grazed my flesh too deeply and cut into my tummy.
ÒWhat kind of party?Ó Joan asked. She insinuated her finger between
the ties holding my basque together in front and pressed it hard into my
navel. I gasped.
ÒA-- a--Ó I was too modest to speak it.
ÒYes, an anal party,Ó Joan said. ÒFor anal games and anal sex. Do you
know what anal sex is?Ó
ÒIt means you get something stuck up your bottom,Ó I stammered. I
felt a moistness in my slit as I spoke. I hoped it wouldnÕt wet my panties.
Joan nodded again. ÒIt wonÕt be easy,Ó Joan assured me. ÒJust do
your best and do as youÕre told.Ó
ÒWhat if I have to poop?Ó I asked Joan. My eyes were wide. I was
both entranced and repelled by her words, by my circumstances. Out of the
corner of my eye I could see Dave still trying to get his big pulsing prong
back into his small leather shorts.
Joan laughed. ÒThen weÕll take whateverÕs in your bottom out, so you
can go do it. But donÕt worry, weÕll enemize everyone first. It really
shouldnÕt be a problem.Ó
Katrina glanced anxiously at Dave. He seemed delighted by the
conversation, but it was doing little to help him get his penis stuffed back
in his pants. She seemed worried, but still bold. SheÕd told me on our
flight over that she believed in trying anything once.
ÒAre you willing to let an intimate place like your bottom be owned
by someone else tonight?Ó Joan asked me. Her eyes were frank, direct.
They drilled into me.
ÒI donÕt know,Ó I stammered.
ÒYou have lovely blonde hair, dear,Ó Joan said. ÒYou remind me
exactly of me when I was your age.Ó She lifted my locks, brushed them
back from my breasts, exposing them. My nipples were unbearably stiff.
She touched one with her sharp-nailed finger.
ÒDonÕt,Ó I hissed.
ÒStand still,Ó Joan said. ÒLet me help you make up your mind.Ó With
that she dropped to her knees. I watched, frightened, as she stared at my
panties and took hold of them by their teensy waistband.
ÒNoooo,Ó I breathed, but my hands fluttered upward, not down, and
Joan was able to slide my drawers down without interference. My bush
was bared. My panties banded my thighs. I wished sheÕd put them back up,
lest they crease my silk stockings. Joan leaned forward. She blew softly
on the tight curls of my bush. Then, without so much as even a word of
request, without any permission from me, she extended her tongue. She
let it rove across my private. Then it dipped underneath, and I gasped. It
licked sensuously at my labial lips. I was wet there now, from her tongue
if not from my own desire.
Katrina peeked round me, entranced. I blushed, I sighed, I shivered. I
wanted to push Joan away. I arched my hips forward instead, and found my
wrists sought by Katrina and pulled abruptly behind my back.
ÒMmmf! Mmmf! Mmmf!Ó I said in explosive gasps. Joan was sending
shock waves all through my pussy! I felt shivers all the way down to my
legs, to the tips of my toes. She closed her lips over my sexual lips and
sucked and tongued at my opening like a delicate animal.
ÒOHHHH!Ó I cried suddenly. People peered around the corner from the
other room. I flushed, seeing them. Yet they were dressed just like me.
The women wore topless basques. The men, like Dave, had snug leather
underpants on. Otherwise they were nude, save for cute little bow ties.
Suddenly I longed to be with them, to expose whatever they wished to
them. I would be theirs and, being inside me, they would be mine. I
wanted those men suddenly, even if it meant having to take them up my
ass.
Joan pulled her face from my bush. It was quite moist now. I gazed
down at her, at myself.
ÒDo you promise to surrender your bottomhole for the evening?Ó Joan
asked me.
ÒYes!Ó I blurted. Then I wished I hadnÕt, for instantly the men
standing at the junction of the hall and the room beyond seemed to double
the size of the (already enormous) cocks in their pants. One manÕs dick
actually popped out of the top of his underwear. AnotherÕs shot out the
side, cutting across his thigh.
ÒGentlemen, please, mind your manners,Ó Joan said, turning her head
and following my eyes. Her fingers began to lift my panties back into
place. They would be wet now, I had no doubt of that. I felt the silk touch
me between my legs and immediately my juices wettened it. My juices,
and the saliva left from JoanÕs mouth.
ÒIÕm too big to mind my manners,Ó a man groused. He was trying to
replace himself in his shorts. ÒEspecially in these small little
underpants!Ó
ÒYou like us girls in tight little outfits,Ó Joan answered him. ÒItÕs
only fair.Ó
ÒYeah, but it hurts to keep myself stuffed in this little leather
pouch,Ó the man said.
ÒThen donÕt think naughty thoughts,Ó Joan replied dismissively. She
turned back to me, checked the fit of my panties, adjusted them slightly
with her fingers. Then she kissed my bellybutton and stood up. Behind me,
Katrina released my hands. Joan smiled at me. ÒYouÕll be surrendering
yourself to me tonight,Ó Joan told me. She took my hand. She saw the look
of dismay on my face. ÒPlus a few men,Ó she added. ÒDo you think you can
take several up your bottom?Ó
Vigorously I shook my head no. Joan smiled. ÒDonÕt worry, IÕll help
you,Ó she said. ÒDave told me youÕre new at this. After tonight youÕll be
able to open yourself to any man who wants you. Though it might hurt a
little, training you to do that.Ó She glanced down at my breasts, wobbling
freely and nakedly on my chest, their tips stiff. ÒYou donÕt mind a little
pain, do you?Ó Joan asked me.
ÒYes I do,Ó I answered.
ÒThen thatÕs why IÕll take special care with you,Ó Joan said. ÒSo it
hurts as little as possible. But you canÕt spend the rest of your life
avoiding menÕs needs, dear. You have to be able to accept them into your
life and, perhaps, even control them.Ó
We walked into the party room. It was decorated with streamers
and balloons. Some were purple. Some were white. Many of them were
pink, reminding me of my moist interior, that seemed to be so desired
tonight. I looked for anything menacing, saw nothing. Just a wet bar, the
maid pouring drinks for us now, the other guests, perhaps eight, milling
about in their lingerie and leather bow ties and underwear.
Joan sat me down on a loveseat. She sat down beside me. Other
guests, already sitting, were joined by those standing up. Dave found an
empty stuffed chair and sat down. Katrina plopped herself in his lap.
The maid appeared. She held a tray containing drinks. Joan reached
up to the tray. I thought she was getting herself, or me, a drink. Instead
she brought her hand down from it with a pair of handcuffs! They were
police handcuffs, made of steel.
ÒHave you ever worn handcuffs before?Ó Joan asked me. I shook my
head Ôno,Õ then remembered I had, briefly, at SvetlanaÕs. I decided not to
mention that. ÒI want you to put these on,Ó Joan told me. To facilitate
this, she made me put out both my wrists. Then she gently locked first
one cuff on my wrists, then the other. I looked down at my hands. They
looked strange, gloved with my short ruffle gloves, made of silk, matching
the whiteness of my basque, with the steel metal handcuffs clamped over
them. I wriggled my wrists and found they were securely bound into the
cuffs. There was no more than a half-inch steel chain between them.
Now Joan fetched me a drink from the tray. ÒSherry? Gin?
Bloody?Ó she asked me.
ÒSherry, please,Ó I said. My voice was quavery. My pussy felt wet. I
wasnÕt sure what to do. Joan placed the drink in my uplifted hands. I drew
the drink to my mouth and sipped it. ÒMmmm,Ó I couldnÕt help saying. IÕd
tried sherries on the flight over, gotten used to them. I liked them.
Joan helped herself to a Bloody Mary. She drank it, slowly, looking
into my eyes. I looked into hers. She let her eyes fall again to my breasts.
She gazed at my nipples. ÒThose must be clamped,Ó she said. She saw the
alarm in my face. Joan reached out. She stroked my long hair. ÒDonÕt be
afraid,Ó she said. ÒThough it does become you,Ó she smiled. ÒTonight,
what is closed must be opened. What is free must be imprisoned. All your
sexual parts, save your pussy, which is reserved to Dave -- yes I know
youÕre a virgin -- all your sexual parts must be provoked. Your mouth
filled, your bottom, your titties and even your clit clamped.Ó I gasped.
Joan grinned. ÒYou are young, healthy. This is as important as playing
sports in school, or cheerleading. You donÕt just have arms and legs dear,
you have sexual parts and places too. These must be exercised, opened,
explored, trained.Ó
I shivered. I didnÕt want to be opened in front of all these
anonymous guests. I glanced around. Everyone was looking at me. Then,
suddenly, I felt a flush of delight. I was the center of attention! Despite
the other gorgeous women in the room, despite being the youngest, I had
every manÕs eye. I sighed, shivered. Joan smiled.
ÒGet acquainted with the other guests, dear,Ó Joan told me softly.
ÒThere are still a few more to arrive. Then, when everyoneÕs here, and
settled, weÕll go to the playroom.Ó
ÒThe playroom?Ó I asked. Joan smiled, nodded.
ÒYes, dear,Ó Joan said. ÒRemember, all this is for pleasure, even if I
do have to clamp your nipples for you and widen your ass.Ó
Joan stood up. She offered me her hand, and I felt required to take
it. She made me stand up. ÒTurn on the music,Ó she told the maid, who
still waited beside us with her trayful of drinks. There was music playing
already, in the background, but I sensed Joan wanted a change of tune.
ÒTurn down the lights. LetÕs dance, while we wait for the other guests.Ó
She turned to the others, seated in chairs around the room. A few were
surreptitiously already petting and making out. Joan let go of my hand.
ÒDance and mingle, everyone!Ó Joan called out. A few guests rose. Joan
saw a couple kissing and walked over to them. Gently she grasped both the
man and the woman by the hair. She pulled their faces apart. ÒDance, my
dears. This is not an orgy. Not yet,Ó Joan said.
The maid turned on some music. It was a hard beat, pounding. I liked
it. I danced with several men. At first we danced a few feet from each
other but then, in each case, we drew much closer. It was sinful, dancing
like this, me in just lingerie, my bottom showing, my titties bouncing all
over as I twisted and swayed. The men looked incredible in their briefs,
bulging unnaturally. We gazed at each otherÕs loins as we danced. They let
me feel their equipment. I passed my hand over the surface of their
leather underpants. They cupped my breasts, pecked my nipples with
kisses. I was hot, flushed, excited.
Suddenly the music stopped. The lights in the room brightened.
ÒI trust everyoneÕs had a chance to meet?Ó Joan asked. She stood
with a hand on her hips. In her other hand, she held a paddle. It was
leather on one side but I saw, strangely, that the other side of it was
covered with a soft black fur, as if she might instantly soothe anyoneÕs
bottom she spanked. Were we to be spanked? I clapped my hands to my
bottom. I didnÕt wish to have my rear end paddled. IÕd done nothing wrong.
Joan eyed me. She brushed back her blonde hair from her face.
ÒCindy, come here,Ó she said. She curled a finger and beckoned me. Her
face was severe.
ÒBut I havenÕt done anything,Ó I replied. Nonetheless, caught under
her cold gaze, I let go of the two men IÕd danced with last, and walked
over to her. My hips wobbled as I walked. I could feel the cool air of the
room on my bottom and didnÕt wish to change its temperature. My pussy
was warm, but my bottom was nice and cool. It wiggled sexily with my
stride.
ÒBend over,Ó Joan told me. She pointed to a low coffee table. The
maid, now topless, with fine young breasts rising from her chest, was
spreading a soft white towel across the table.
ÒBut I havenÕt done anything!Ó I protested again.
ÒIÕm not going to spank you because youÕve been bad, silly,Ó Joan
answered. ÒIÕm going to spank you because youÕre my favorite. You have
the prettiest bottom of all!Ó
ÒOhhh!Ó I cried. I turned. Instinctively I clutched at my bottom
again. I looked at the towel on the coffee table. Was I supposed to kneel
on it?
ÒTake down your panties first,Ó Joan said. Amazingly, I complied. I
touched the drawstrings of my panties, fingered them a moment, then
pushed them down off my hips. I felt incredibly naked as the g-string
between my labial lips popped out of me and descended down my thighs.
ÒAll the way off?Ó I asked, gazing round my shoulder at Joan.
ÒYes, and spread your legs wide apart when you kneel on the table,Ó
Joan said.
ÒOh, please donÕt hurt me,Ó I told her. My eyes were grave.
ÒThe sooner you comply, the less youÕll be hurt,Ó Joan answered.
There was no change in her countenance. She looked as severe as ever. I
glanced about, looking for Dave. My eyes settled on him, but he simply
stared back at me, holding KatrinaÕs hand. Briefly, Katrina nodded to me,
in encouragement. DaveÕs underpants looked like they were about to burst.
ÒOH!Ó I said, disgusted. Why was I chosen to do this? Because I had
the prettiest bottom? I had the littlest bottom, thatÕs what I had. Small
and neat and compact and heart-shaped, with a dimpled little anus
sleeping between my hind cheeks. I stepped out of my panties. I turned,
handed them to Joan.
ÒStuff them in your mouth,Ó Joan told me. Her voice was stern.
ÒWhat?!Ó I gasped.
ÒDo it,Ó Joan said. She waved her paddle at me, at my backside.
With shivering fingers I lifted my panties to my face. Gradually,
slowly, reluctantly, but finally doing it, I opened my lips. I pushed my
panties into my mouth. I could taste myself. I wanted to spit them out,
but Joan pointed with a stiff finger at the towel-covered coffee table.
ÒOh, I donÕt like this,Ó I said, but my panties muffled all my words. I
bent, kneed my way onto the table. The towel felt comfy under my knees.
It was thick, soft. They had taken every care for my comfort, but to what
end? To have my bottom smacked?
ÒHead down,Ó Joan told me. ÒDip your back. Yes, like that. Up with
your bottom. You can raise it higher than that, girl.Ó
ÒOW!Ó I cried. With prying fingers she cupped my dell from behind
and yanked up my hips, intruding into my softness with her sharp nails as
she did so.
ÒHold still,Ó Joan told me. ÒDonÕt move. IÕm going to give you 20
smacks and I want you to count them.Ó
ÒBut I have panties in my mouf!Ó I said in a muffled voice.
ÒCount them anyway,Ó Joan said. ÒI can hear whether youÕre trying
to talk or not.Ó She took up position behind me.
I cowered with my face hard-pressed to the towel. I wished I could
sit on my bottom, instead of presenting it to her. But it was the center of
attention. My face, usually the center, was half-forgotten, stuffed with
my panties and buried in the towel.
SMACK! Suddenly a hard crack slammed into the softness of my
cheeks.
ÒEeeeeeyoooowch!Ó I cried. My head bolted up. I wriggled my tushy.
My tail felt hot suddenly, and a shock of pain went coursing across my
bare cheeks.
ÒSay ÔOne,ÕÓ Joan told me.
ÒOnefff,Ó I gasped. My panties blocked my speech but she could make
out what I was saying.
ÒVery good,Ó Joan told me. ÒNow IÕm going to hit you again on your
ass and I want you to say ÔTwo,Õ do you understand? Did you watch Sesame
Street when you were little?Ó
ÒYeth,Ó I gasped over my panties, hot with my scent.
ÒGood,Ó Joan told me. ÒThen you should have no problem counting to
20.Ó
ÒNo, but my bothom wil--Ó I was just saying, when the paddle
slammed into me again. ÒYEEEEEOOOOOCH!!!Ó I shouted. Then, my ass
grinding against itself, my cheeks tense and swaying, I added, ÒTwo!Ó
I turned my head to look behind me. Really, I did not deserve this! I
wished to party, not to be spanked. CouldnÕt I please get up, I begged
through eyes, wide with pleading. With my mouth I tried to implore her to
stop. She smiled, wanly, as if many years of handling girls like me had
wearied her a little of all this, and dulled her interest. She was an expert
with the paddle. I was too young to appreciate her skill, her eyes seemed
to answer. Then she tossed back her mane of blonde hair, aimed carefully,
and brought the paddle sweeping in again. It skimmed in low through the
air, at a forward angle, then rose abruptly and caught me on the underside
of my hinds.
ÒYEEEEEOOOOOCH!!!Ó I screamed. The thudding impact of the paddle
lifted me. I shut my eyes. Joan had given me no mercy. Instead, sheÕd hit
me on my tenderest part! I felt my knees bounce on the towel. I flung my
head about, my scream continuing, ending in a gasp. I shook myself, like a
dog emerging from water. My bare tits wobbled like gourds upon a vine. I
opened my eyes. I blinked back my budding tears. Wimpering, I looked
around, found Dave again. He had a pained look on his face. I implored him
with my eyes, thinking he was feeling sorry for me. Then, my eyes dipping
to his crotch, I saw it was his own penis he was in pain over. His snug
leather undershorts cupped and held his loins. Within them, heÕd grown to
massive proportions. His cock, its outline visible against the thin leather,
strained at the front of his pants like a snake caught in a trap. Indeed, his
cock was caught, for despite the straining power of his loins, the pants
were designed to hold just such a member. These were, heÕd told me,
pants from the gay subculture. They were sewn by craftsmen who admired
the male penis above all else. They lived to test the penis, and work it,
and skillfully manipulate it. Now, gazing my eyes about, I saw that all the
men were in a similar pain to DaveÕs. The females had caught on,
meanwhile, to the pleasure of seeing their men so uncomfortably disposed.
Whenever one popped open, the nearest female stuffed him ruthlessly back
into his shorts.
ÒOh, God!Ó A man cried. His cock burst suddenly from the top of his
little leather underpants. It wobbled in the air, a big banana loving the
coolness of the room after the long, hot confinement of his pants.
ÒNo, no, dear,Ó the woman next to him smiled. Gleefully she took his
penis with the small fingers of both her hands. Another female dashed
over and drew open the manÕs pants. Together, wrestling with his
manhood, they somehow managed to jam the stiff member back where it
belonged.
ÒEgggghh!Ó the man grunted. His chin rose, his neck strained within
the circling confinement of his bow tie. His broad shoulders flexed and
his chest, huge and hairy, tensed as if he were lifting some enormous
weight. Yet, obedient to JoanÕs wishes, he kept his hands at his sides. He
did not interfere with the girlÕs efforts. His big fingers clenched and
unclenched, grasping at nothing, at the air, though I knew he longed to
smash both women to the ground.
ÒUnh! There!Ó one of the woman proclaimed at last. I heard the front
of the manÕs underpants snap securely shut. Both women wiped their brow
with the backs of their hands.
ÒYou were almost impossible,Ó a woman told the man. It was a
compliment, it seemed, for her eyes were dancing.
ÒMy God these pants are tight,Ó the man gasped.
ÒNo, youÕre just thinking naughty thoughts, thatÕs all,Ó Joan called
from behind me. ÒGood work, girls!Ó
Suddenly, as I gaped at the man, Joan let fly with another swing of
her paddle. It caught me full on both my cheeks. There was a loud ÒTHUD!Ó
My slim throat gasped, my eyes blinked, a scream tore unbidden from my
throat and filled the room. My hips worked like a maidÕs, scrubbing floors,
even though I was doing no work but receiving the swings of the paddle.
Pain coursed through both my cheeks.
ÒYEEEhooooooth!Ó I uttered. Then, with a wheeze, remembering
suddenly to count, I gasped, ÒTweeeee!Ó My eyes clenched shut. My hair
shook about my face. My back arched, flexed, then dipped again lest she
punish me for not showing obedience in my posture. I was learning. I
hated it, but I was learning to endure a proper bum whacking. Somewhere
deep in me, a small delicate part of myself, newly born, complimented me.
ÔGood job,Õ it whispered to me. ÔYou perform beautifully. YouÕre driving
the men wild.Õ I hated it. I hoped it would be paddled out of me.
ÒIÕm disgusted with you,Ó Joan growled behind me. My eyes blinked
open. What could she mean? I was doing so well! ÒThatÕs swat number
four,Ó Joan told me hotly.
Suddenly, before I could even plead my case, apologize for my
forgetfulness, the paddle exploded against my behind.
ÒYAAAAAAAAAAK!Ó I shouted. My bottom lofted upward, fire
shooting through my bulging cheeks. My ass clenched, released, fanning
the flames, involuntarily, that now engulfed my hinds. I could hold back
my tears now longer. They burst from my eyes. I screamed again, feeling
yet new waves of pain take hold of my bottom as I worked its cheeks. I
was wanton. I was uncaring. I rolled my cheeks and shook my ass like a
two dollar whore inviting men to her room. I was Bottom, nothing else,
burning, reddened cheeks that knew no stillness, no modesty.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The paddle struck again, in rapid
succession. Joan counted the blows aloud herself and gave me no time to
even try. I shouted. I lost control. Tears streamed down my cheeks and
my ass, well punished, worked itself like that of a horse in gallop. Yet I
was running no where. I was kneeling, crouched on the towel. My bottom
up, my head down. Somehow I kept my back dipped, despite the soft
bobbing of my head, the straining of my neck, the arched-high workings of
my ass.
Oh, how it hurt! My cheeks felt like a blow torch was upon them. I
burned all over my hiney. I was the sun, rising in the east, blazing its new
hot rays upon a dewy morning. The men watched. I could hear them
grunting. Each impact of the paddle seemed to give them new, unwanted
inspiration, making their cocks strain harder in the stranglehold of their
pants.
ÒMmmm, lovely,Ó I heard a woman say. Her voice lisped, softly, as if
admiring something very beautiful. Was it me? But it couldnÕt be, not
with my hiney as hot and red as the coals of a barbeque!
ÒTake your hand out of your panties, or IÕll spank you next,Ó Joan
scolded. At first I thought she was speaking to me. I yanked at my hands,
frightened, then realized they were cuffed, tucked underneath me,
cushioning the rise and fall of my breasts. My panties were in my mouth.
ÒTake your hand OUT!Ó I heard Joan say again.
ÒMmmm, but I canÕt! She looks too pretty!Ó I heard the woman reply.
Katrina! It was her! Ooooh! How wicked she was! I had no idea she was
enthralled by my punishment I was still hoping she might save me!
SWAAAAK! The paddle blasted into my bottom. It was the hardest, I
swear. A scream broke from my lungs. My head lifted, dropped, lifted
again. My ass waggled in the air helplessly, unbearably absorbing the
sting. I couldnÕt. I realized the pain was too great. Suddenly, clenching
my cheeks hard, I dropped flat upon my tummy on the table. Taking a cue
from Katrina, I jammed my hands down between my legs. I felt my fingers
make contact with my little bush. I rubbed them hard in the fuzz, pushed
lower, seeking. Yes! I found myself. My spot. Screaming in pain, in fear, I
fought against the paddleÕs awful sting by rubbing my clit.
ÒOoooh! Oooooh! Oooooh!Ó I gasped in a series of screamy sobs. Each
touch of my fingers upon the magic spot sent thrills of pleasure through
me. I was wet already, from JoanÕs lickings, her mouth upon my puss in
the hall. My bottom, hurting terribly, tensed against the inevitable
onslaught of the paddle.
It never came. Instead, I heard Joan say, ÒYes, dear, youÕve learnt to
take pleasure from pain. How wonderful! It will open up whole new
horizons for you. Rub yourself! Enjoy the sting of the paddle on your tush
as you bring yourself to orgasm. It will be the first of the night, the first
of many. How the others wish they could join you, eh?Ó She must have
glanced at the guests, for at that moment I heard a scream from Katrina. I
heard Joan shout something and, when at last I turned my head to look, I
saw Katrina on her knees. She had her hands thrust down into her tiny pink
panties and she was rubbing herself furiously, as I was. Her breasts,
freely hanging from her topless basque, shivered their tips at me. Her
head was flung back and Dave had grabbed her by the hair, perhaps to stop
her, but she kept masturbating, oblivious to the eyes of everyone. Joan
stood over her, holding her paddle, waiting for her to finish.
ÒOhhhhh, Katrina!Ó I mouthed from within my panty-stuffed lips. I
did not wish to see her punished, even if sheÕd delighted in seeing me dealt
with. It hurt. She would be in agony. She thought, perhaps, it was
bearable, but I knew better. Joan was awful, with that paddle. ÔStop
frigging yourself, Katrina!Õ I tried to call out. I tried to warn her, but my
mouth was muffled with my undies. Dave kept KatrinaÕs head pulled back,
forcing her to look up, perhaps at the ceiling, perhaps at his own groin,
displaying a prominent cock-shaped bulge at the front of his black leather
pants. Joan waited quietly. She watched, we all watched, even me, still
rubbing myself, as KatrinaÕs fingers thrust and dug within her slit.
ÒOoooooooHHH!Ó Katrina cried, suddenly. Her breasts lifted. Her
tummy drew in hard, making a hollow beneath her ribs. The basque fell in
with her stomach, clinging to her tightly. It was like a sheath upon her,
clutching at her middle, while above her breasts wobbled nakedly and
below her legs strained upon the carpet. Her tiny panties suffered under
the exploring intrusion of her fingers. Their thread-like waistband
seemed certain to snap free of her hips at any moment. Katrina worked
her slit hard, gasping and groaning in a most unladylike manner as she
brought forth the fruit of her orgasm.
ÒHOOOOOOOO!Ó I shouted suddenly. I shut my eyes. I heard Katrina
blurt forth a wild scream. We were both cumming! I twisted my hips.
With the heat of my well-punished bottom tormenting me, I dug hard in my
slit. My hips bounced upon the softness of the towel beneath me.
I ground my teeth. I let out a sob. I waggled my ass indiscreetly,
not caring now about anything, just my own hot pleasure. In the distance I
heard Katrina sob, moan, sob again. The flower of my orgasm opened and
engulfed me.
When it was over, my pleasure slowly seeping away, I lifted my
head. I looked at Katrina. She was down now, on the carpet, on her knees.
Dave had been permitted to sit in front of her and, amazingly, he had been
allowed to push down the front of his leather pants so that his cock could
stem free. It wavered in the air. It was big and thick and meaty and I
gasped upon seeing it. Katrina, doggie style in front of him, facing his
penis, gave its head a small, solicitous lick with her tongue. Then my eyes
lifted and saw Joan. She stood behind Katrina, her paddle poised to begin
KatrinaÕs punishment.
ÒCrawl forward and accept his cock in your mouth,Ó Joan told
Katrina.
ÒOh, no! It is too big!Ó Katrina replied. Dave looked up at Joan.
ÒShe has a lot of trouble with it,Ó Dave said to Joan. It really is too
big for her.Ó
ÒRidiculous!Ó Joan scoffed. ÒAre you not her lover?Ó
ÒWell, yes,Ó Dave said. I saw his hips nudge forward a little, on the
carpet, as if anticipating her next words. His cock trembled. Katrina,
about to lick it again, instead drew back from the big, purplish head, her
eyes expectantly widening, as if in fear.
ÒHow fortunate you are to meet me, then,Ó Joan said. ÒI watched you
at the restaurant, with your girls. You are much too solicitous, Dave.
They are yours. YouÕve collared them-- look at their necks! They are your
property and they must learn to love you properly.Ó
ÒOneÕs only 14, the other 16,Ó Dave answered. But from his voice I
could tell he spoke in defense of his honor, rather than in defense of us.
His cock throbbed, he moved his hips a little closer to KatrinaÕs face. He
reached out, suddenly, and grabbed her hair. Her eyes glowed with fright.
He pushed his hips forward again and pressed his cockhead to her lips. She
was trapped. She could not back up. Joan stood at her rear, a leg thrust
down between hers. She tried, bumped her bottom against JoanÕs knee.
ÒYour girls will both be trained to love you tonight,Ó Joan said aloud,
solemnly. Her voice sounded like it was presiding over a wedding. ÒWith
their mouths, their bottoms. Their cunts I do not care about. Any girl can
spread her legs, even a virgin. But slaves, slaves like these, must be more
helpful to a man. It is not enough simply to open oneÕs legs. They must be
accomplished, or they are hardly slaves at all. Hardly even lovers.Ó
With that, Joan stepped from between KatrinaÕs legs. My friend
might have moved back then, save for DaveÕs grip upon her hair. He offered
her his cock. She refused. She kept her lips pursed tightly. He shoved the
pee-holed tip against her mouth. Lipstick rubbed off her lips onto his
knobby crest. Yet still she denied him. Was she being wilfull? I had no
doubt sheÕd more skill than that! Yet, knowing not how far sheÕd be forced
to take him, she preferred to resist and not take him at all.
WHACK! I shut my eyes, hearing the sound of the paddle. My hands
flew instinctively up from between my thighs and clapped themselves to
my bottom.
ÒEEEEEEOOOCH!Ó I heard screamed, and realized it was me, for my
heinie was still raw from my own paddling.
ÒBOO HOOPTH!Ó I heard from across the room. Opening her mouth to
scream, Katrina had suddenly received DaveÕs cock.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Came the paddle again. Joan seemed to
show no mercy. I heard her shout that Katrina was 16 and ought to be
trained, by now, to the paddle. I kept my eyes shut, fearing to see.
ÒMmmm, let me help you,Ó I heard whispered in my ear. The voice
was soft, feminine. My eyes popped open as I felt delicate fingers touch
my tush. My hands, long since having retreated, due to the tender state of
my ass, now tried to to bat her away. ÒNo, no,Ó she breathed. ÒYour
bottom must be creamed and soothed.Ó I heard a rustle behind me, as of a
bag being set down on the table, opened. I pressed my tummy hard against
the towel underneath me and waited. I drew in my breath.
ÒHOOOO!Ó I blurted when I felt her fingers touch me anew. There was
a squirting sound, and a cold cream spurted across my ass. ÒOoooh, no! It
hurts too much!Ó I protested. But I pressed my hands flat against the
towel, by my thighs, and let her begin her work. My legs, tense, spread
apart.
ÒMy, what a tiny little rosebud you have,Ó I heard her say. Her
fingers opened my cheeks, exposed the interior of my crack. ÒDo you want
some cream in here?Ó she asked. She giggled. I tried to protest but she
squirted me there before I could say anything. I doubt my words, muffled
by my panties, would have stopped her.
ÒYes, youÕre going to be fucked right here,Ó I heard her murmer above
me. Her finger, cream-laden, swirled around my bumhole. I shivered under
her touch. Was she right? Was there no relief, no escape from this awful
place without first surrendering my anal virginity? I gasped again, looked
around at the men. To my surprise, I saw that many of them had freed
their cocks. Joan had not given permission. But she was busy swatting
Katrina, and they, obviously aroused, seemed able to bear her teasing no
longer. The women, too, it seemed, had tired of the game of self-denial.
They played their fingers over the menÕs dicks, strumming them, it
seemed, like instruments, while their fingers played over their pantied
dells. A few women, choosing not to heed the very punishment Joan was
now delivering to Katrina for such a crime, stuck their fingers into their
undies and freely diddled their slits.
ÒUnnnh!Ó I gasped suddenly. The woman tending my bottom began to
massage it. She cupped my cheeks and forced me, through her fingering, to
wriggle my ass. New darts of pain shot through me. It was horrible, I
thought, needing this type of treatment. Her very touch was a curse.
ÒNo, darling. DonÕt try to escape me,Ó the woman said. I was trying
to slither away across the towel. ÒHold still and accept,Ó she said. ÒBe
sensible. Cream has to be applied to your bottom after a paddling. It
helps it heal. You donÕt want to walk around with red cheeks any longer
than I you have to, do you?Ó
It was some twenty minutes later when Katrina and I found
ourselves standing before the coffe table. The towel, showing a small,
wet place where IÕd spent upon it, now had a big steel bucket sitting on it.
Within was soapy water. My panties lay beside it. They were crumpled
into a little ball. They were soaked with my saliva. I wondered if IÕd have
to wear wet panties home.
ÒYou must wash your pussies, you naughty girls,Ó Joan told us. She
seemed not to mind that others now showed their loins, that perhaps even
a few females had cum. Dave had not. Straining, at the last moment, he
withdrew his cock from KatrinaÕs throat before spending. She had taken
the whole length of him, I think, though IÕd been too scared to look when
she was really swollen and full of him.
The males stood around us, their leather underpants a thing of the
past. The floor was littered with them. Intermingled with the menÕs
shorts were female panties. We were all naked at the waist now, though
the men still wore their ties and the females, myself and Katrina
included, still wore our basques, our ruffled gloves, our rope collars
(which we could not remove), and our stockings. Despite my spanking my
stockings still had no runs in them. I had checked them, being let up at
last from the table, and been surprised at how new they still looked. They
were fine silk, a whip might have torn them open. But JoanÕs paddle, well
placed, had left them undamaged. I liked my stockings. Dave had bought
them for me. He said I looked great in them. With my long legs, I imagined
he was right.
ÒOpen your legs and thrust forward your hips,Ó Joan told Katrina and
I. We obeyed. We each held a sponge. There was only one bucket, though.
We would have to share it. ÒI want you both to scrub your pussies,Ó Joan
said. ÒDonÕt be shy about it. Keep your legs apart and let everyone see.
Rub yourselves. You seem to like it. Rub yourselves with the soap and hot
water and remember I have my paddle if you donÕt obey.Ó
I sniffled. My bottom was still horribly sore and I knew KatrinaÕs
must be too. She still had tears in her eyes. Mine had dried, but there
were stains running down my cheeks where my crying had streaked away
my rouge.
ÒBegin,Ó Joan ordered. Katrina and I both leaned forward. We
bumped each otherÕs shoulders as we both reached for the bucket. We
looked at each other. We giggled. KatrinaÕs giggle ended in a little sob.
The heat of the paddling was still intense upon her bottom.
ÒYou go first,Ó Katrina sniffled. I dipped my sponge in the bucket. I
drew it out. Worried I might get my stockings all wet, I spread my legs
wider apart. Then I leaned my hips out, trying to get them over the towel
on the table, so Joan wouldnÕt scold me for dripping water on her carpet.
Well, it wasnÕt hers, but the hotels, but I knew she might punish me
anyway if I got it all wet.
ÒOh!Ó I sighed. I pressed the warm, wet sponge against my muff.
ÒThatÕs it, scrub your private,Ó Joan told me. ÒYou too, Katrina.Ó
With a blush Katrina dipped her sponge in the bucket. Then she rung it out,
carefully.
ÒNo, donÕt wring it. You must WASH!Ó Joan told her. ÒGet your pussy
all soapy, like little Cindy is doing. My word, donÕt you know how to take a
simple sponge bath, girl? YouÕve spent, now your spendings must be
cleansed from your cunt lips. This may be an orgy, but we do practise
proper etiquette here.Ó Joan smiled. ÒNot hygeine, my dear. Etiquette.
ItÕs an entirely different matter. Your hair is pretty and your breasts are
firm and ripe and your lingerie looks lovely. You are not a dirty girl in
need of a bath, but a lingeried beauty, showing yourself and letting the
men see how squeaky clean you keep your cunt lips. Rub them, thatÕs it! I
do not mind if you make yourself cum again. The hot sponge will wipe
away your spendings.
ÒOH!Ó Katrina sighed. She tossed her head back. I think she must
have wanted to cum again for she now rubbed her dell quite vigorously. I
took inspiration from her, rubbed my own slit harder. I tensed my
bottomcheeks and felt their nudity, all stingy from the paddle, yet there
was, I think, a faint glow beginning to develop in them.
ÒGod, theyÕre lovely!Ó a man said of us. ÒTwin beauties, with tight
little asses and cunts that promise to be at least as tight, if not tighter!Ó
ÒThey are only offering their pussies for show,Ó Joan warned him.
ÒIf you want them, youÕll have to find a way to get your cock into their
pretty mouths or, indeed, up between their buns.Ó She laughed. ÒI hope
you can manage it.Ó
ÒI can, I can!Ó the man groaned. But I hoped he might not, for the
women were all busy fingering those hugely presented cocks. With luck
some of them would spill, perhaps even on JoanÕs carpet, and get their
bottoms whacked as I had.
ÒNow girls,Ó Joan said, addressing the women. ÒDo you think IÕm
going to just let you stand around fondling the men until they all loose
themselves on the carpet? Not at all! ItÕs time we began preparing for
our anal orgy. There are several jars of cold cream, here in this bag. I
want you to share them amongst yourselves. Each of you is to poke her
sister in the bottom, so as to lubricate her there for entry by the male.Ó
She smiled. ÒYes, girls, you will do each other. If I let the men stick their
fingers in you, they wonÕt be able to resist sticking their more important
parts in too. Men, stand back! Play with yourselves as you watch, if you
like, but if any of you sperm the carpet, donÕt think your ass will escape
my paddle!Ó
I couldnÕt believe what I was hearing. It was so awful, so decadent!
Were the other girls really going to lube each otherÕs assholes so they
could be fucked there by the men? Why, I couldnÕt imagine those big male
penises going up female bottoms. Joan had specially chosen each man,
measuring him before inviting him, as sheÕd done with Dave, at the
restaurant. She hadnÕt chosen them because they were little. They were
the biggest guys she could find, some admittedly bigger than others, but
all of them capable, I think, (though IÕd never actually seen him!) of
putting ÔLong Dong SilverÕ to shame.
ÒOHHHH!Ó Katrina gasped. I let out a heated breath of my own. Were
we really going to an anal orgy? I rubbed my cunt harder. If only the men
would take me there! But I was virgin, of course, and pledged (quite how I
wasnÕt sure) to Dave. Only he could have me, and perhaps not tonight.
Tonight was devoted to my bottom, and maybe my mouth. My ass and my
face. WasnÕt there some joke about the two, told by schoolchildren? I
was too hot to remember. I ground my hips, feeling the warm sponge
against my slit.
Blushing, we had cum again, Katrina and I. We seemed the Orgasm
Queens of the party. Perhaps, I thought later, it was JoanÕs way of
softening us up. With lots of orgasms we would, hopefully, be able to
relax, and take cocks up our bottoms more easily when the time came.
Our pussies were dry again. Joan had toweled them for us when we
were finished washing them. Then sheÕd applied a blow drier to them, and
combed them with a small comb, playing it across the bristly little curls
of our dells. In back, weÕd each been poked by her, right up between our
nude, reddened cheeks. We were prepared now, as much as the other girls,
for being fucked from behind. Yet my cunt sang, wishing for more
attention. I wished I, or somebody, could give it what it wanted. My poor
bottom didnÕt need anything thrust up it. It hurt enough from the paddling
IÕd gotten!
Joan opened the door to the party room. She ushered me in first. The
guests, behind me, waited to hear my gasp at seeing what lay within. My
God! I nearly fainted when I did. It was a large room, but it had not a
stick of furniture in it. There entire floor, save for a few small spaces,
was covered with mattresses. I gaped at them.
ÒEach mattress is covered with a protective plastic sheet, as well
as the ordinary cotton sheet that you see,Ó Joan told me. I felt like a
tourist, on some strange vacation. ÒTake off your heels, dear. YouÕre
unsteady enough in them as it is. I donÕt want you falling,Ó Joan
whispered. I took my eyes from the mattress-covered room and
reluctantly bent over. My bosoms hung beneath me. Their points, despite
my orgasms, remained stiff. Joan lightly caressed the small of my back
with a fingertip as I reached down and unbuckled my heels from my feet.
Then I stood straight again. ÒVery good,Ó Joan told me. ÒNow go ahead,
walk out onto the mattresses. Pick someplace and kneel down. DonÕt shy
away from the enema bottles, dear, weÕre all going to enemize ourselves
before we begin.Ó
With a pounding heart, I stepped up onto the mattresses. My hips
wiggled salaciously as I tried to negotiate my way across the first of
them. It was like trying to walk on a bed. The cushiony surface dipped
under the pressure of my feet. My bosoms bounced with each of my steps.
Tenderly I reached behind myself and cupped my still-flaming ass. It
would hurt, getting porked up the butt, and I wasnÕt looking forward to it.
Yet how could I refuse? I wore my slave collar, made of simple rope. I
was adorned in a basque and stockings bought for me by Dave. My gloves
were gone now, left behind on the towel-covered cocktail table, but taking
them off had only impressed upon me how, without what Dave had bought
for me, IÕd be utterly, completely nude here. I had my body, that was all.
Even the fur coat hanging in the closet by the door had been bought by
Dave. Perhaps thatÕs why heÕd been so generous. To impress upon me, at
the proper moment, that I was utterly and completely his. I was his slave.
I wore his clothes and went where he took me. Oh, how had I come to
this? IÕd only intended to visit Venice with Katrina. IÕd turned down my
precious Steven, despite his manliness, his boyish wonder at the world
that I so admired, sharing it myself. Now he was in Rome, celebrating an
ersatz honeymoon with his second-choice, while I, his first, was about to
be put to trials I, and perhaps even he, could not imagine!
I dropped to my knees. Kitten-like, feeling hopelessly submissive,
despite my plight, I turned my head and looked back at Joan. She smiled at
me. My heels waited on the carpet by the edge of the farthest mattress. I
would replace them on my feet when the night was over. When my bottom
was undone. I shivered. Then, I turned away from her. I gazed up at a big
enema pole towering over me. There were several in the room. Several
bags of saline hung down from it. They were brand new, swollen with
fluid. Could I possibly take those bags up my ass? I shivered again,
cupped my tushy with my hands, and winced at the sting that still burned
there. Slowly I impressed the pads of my fingers into my cheeks. I drew
the halves of my heinie apart. Yes! I felt the cool air of this new room
touch my dimpled anus. I would receive. Straight up my bottom that
dangling enema tube would go, and I would take it all, as much as was
asked of me. Then, just as quickly, I felt refusal well up within me. I
darted away from that awful pole. I planted my bare bottom on the sheet
beneath me. I yelped. My bottom hurt so! I could not even sit on it! Joan
laughed.
ÒNow you see why I paddled you, dear little miss,Ó she said in a
throaty voice. ÒIf you canÕt sit on your bottom you have to keep it up in
the air. Which is just where I want it!Ó
I bit my lower lip and let out a sob. She was right. I couldnÕt sit on
my bottom. I had to kneel instead, keeping it a little elevated. I placed
my palms against the mattress and leaned forward. I felt my bosoms
hanging with supple weight from my chest. Their tips were hard, so hard,
despite my worries, my fears.
One by one the other guests began to filter into the room. Joan
delighted, insisted even, in bringing each one in herself. She made each
guest deposit their shoes at the foot of the strange bed we all now began
to gather upon. A bed as big as the room! With strategically-placed enema
poles growing like trees between the mattresses, their heavy bags shading
us a little from the roomÕs overhead lights. It was bright in here. There
was to be no romance, only work. Labor, intensive effort, enema tubes up
bottoms and then the male penis, each male taking as many, I guessed, I
feared! females as he could.
ÒHi,Ó Katrina whispered to me. She dropped to her knees beside me.
She seemed as awed by the room as I was. ÒSome room to have a party,
isnÕt it?Ó she breathed.
ÒYes,Ó I answered. ÒI donÕt like it.Ó
ÒWell, donÕt tell Joan that,Ó Katrina said. She reached out, touched
my hair, brushed back a long, drooping lock that had fallen across my face.
ÒJoan still has her paddle.Ó
ÒI know,Ó I said. My voice was soft, quiet. I watched as Dave
crossed the mattresses. His stride was firm, steady. He grinned at
Katrina and I. We blushed. His big dong stuck out on front of him like
some fleshy trombone, I thought, waiting for Katrina and I to put our lips
to it and play upon it. And our bottoms.
ÒHi, girls!Ó Dave said cheerily. He didnÕt mind this room at all. It
was made for him, for his cock. He would have nothing up his ass this
night, I guessed. That was the job of Katrina and I. To present, to receive.
To milk. His testes hung heavily under his dick, reminding me of the
enema bags overhead. He looked up. ÒLooks like you girls are going to have
to take a lot of fluid tonight,Ó he said.
ÒThanks, Dave, IÕm looking forward to it,Ó Katrina said wryly. ÒI
didnÕt know you wanted a human enema bag for a girlfriend.Ó
ÒAh, donÕt worry,Ó Dave said. ÒYou two are the best two girls IÕve
ever known. I wonÕt let anything happen to you.Ó
ÒAnything at all?Ó I blurted hopefully.
ÒNo, not anything at all,Ó Dave replied. He grinned. His chin was
stubbled. The hour was late. Perhaps dawn would come soon, and save me.
Dave reached out. He cupped both my breasts. ÒGod, how pretty these
are,Ó he said. ÒYours are still growing, you know. IÕll bet theyÕll be really
big by the time youÕre 18.Ó
ÒMmmm, do you think mine will grow some more?Ó Katrina asked.
She reached out and touched the shaft of DaveÕs big cock. She stroked a
single finger along it, as if afraid to touch it with more.
ÒSure, at 16? But theyÕre nice and big already,Ó Dave said. ÒYou
donÕt want them growing enormous, do you? Models arenÕt supposed to
have big boobs.Ó
ÒThen it looks like weÕll be out of the modelling business,Ó I sighed
to Katrina. DaveÕs hands, despite their callouses, felt wonderful on my
tits. They were male hands, not female hands, as IÕd endured all the night
so far. They gripped me with male pleasure and squeezed my tits as if in
hopes I might offer milk. ÒMmmm, Dave!Ó I sighed. I limned my tongue
across my upper lip. ÒPlease donÕt leave us, okay, Dave?Ó I asked. ÒI want
you right beside me the whole time!Ó
Katrina leaned over and kissed me. ÒHow do you think Dave can do as
Joan wishes if he holds your hand the whole time?Ó she teased. She was
clearly a little more adventurous than I. I would have been happy to just
lie back and open my legs to Dave, and let him do the rest. I didnÕt need all
this enema jazz. But Katrina seemed to have a slightly wicked streak in
her. I wondered what she and Dave did at the hotel, sharing the same
bathroom. A vision of her sitting on his lap, kissing him, as they both
pooped on the commode flashed through my mind.
ÒAlright, everyone, I hope you like my party room,Ó Joan announced.
ÒI set it up myself. DonÕt worry, I took nursing. I know all about enemas,
in case any of you donÕt.Ó She flashed a look at me. In one hand she held
her trusty paddle. In the other she held the black bag containing all the
cream. She dropped the bag on the mattress at her feet. Then she stepped
from the carpeted portion of the floor up onto the mattress, kicking off
her heels first. ÒLetÕs get this cream redistributed to everyone,Ó she said.
ÒMen, I donÕt mind you inserting the enema tubes, if you wish. As soon as
a girl has been filled and emptied, sheÕs available for fucking. You may
fuck your own girl as you wish, but when you switch to another female
that you donÕt know, please put on a condom. Cindy,Ó she called to me.
ÒYouÕre closest to that closet at the back of the room. Please open it and
hand out the bowls and the tissues IÕve stowed in it. Plus the condoms.
Get up, girl! DonÕt just stare at me. YouÕre part of this party too.Ó
I was staring at her, I guess. Like a deer in headlights. Or a bunny
rabbit. I felt small like a rabbit. But my white tail had been turned beet
red by her paddle. I stood, wincing a little as my well-whacked bottom
shifted. I reached back, touched my aching cheeks to try to soothe them,
winced again, then turned and found the closet Joan had spoken of. It
stood innocuously just behind me. It had a sliding door. I pressed my hand
to the door, slid it back. Omigod! Stacks of bowls, more tubes of cream,
of oil, jars of KY, waited for me to distribute them. In addition there
were rolls of toilet paper, and boxes of Kleenex tissues. I also, with a
sinking feeling, spied a pile of condoms in one corner, each wrapped in
gold foil.
ÒTry not to just use whatever,Ó Joan called out to the guests. ÒIÕm
planning to have another party soon and I donÕt want to have to buy endless
quantities of new supplies.Ó I turned, looked at her. ÒPass the things out,
dear.Ó Someone picked up the black bag at the other end of the room and
began handing out the creams it contained. I took hold of a handful of rolls
of toilet paper, fearing I might be spanked if I didnÕt.
ÒHokay,Ó I said, grunting a little. Who ever would have thought IÕd be
walking around at a party with an armload of Charmin? With unsteady
steps I padded over to Katrina and Dave, dropped a roll of toilet paper
between them. Then, my ass cheeks stinging as they rolled behind me,
feeling utterly silly, I walked around the room, handing out lavatory
tissue. If only mom could see me now! I heard a little voice giggle in my
head. And my dad, whoÕd insisted I be Òchaperoned at all times.Ó Well, I
was going to be chaperoned all right, probably by every randy male in the
room! I looked at their big cocks as I passed them. They watched my ass,
seeming to savor it. Were we conspirators, or was I just a victim? I
couldnÕt be sure. There were too many thoughts rushing through me.
It was not too long afterward, and much sooner than IÕd hoped, that I
found myself poised bottom-upwards on a mattress. Dave was behind me.
I felt his cock bang against the back of my thighs. He positioned himself
at my tail and eagerly parted my hind cheeks with his hands.
ÒOoooh!Ó I cried, feeling his touch, wishing heÕd touch me someplace
else.
Katrina, bravely, had offered to go first, to show me, as best she
could, how it was done. She was kneeling beside me. She said sheÕd done
this before but, glancing over at her face, I think sheÕd lied about that.
There was a grimace upon her features. Joan, standing behind her, was
controlling the flow of enema fluid into her butt. Joan gave her a little at
a time. Whenever she wished to stop the fluid, she pinched off the tubing
with her fingers. Joan rubbed her pussy with her free hand. Her paddle lay
discarded upon the mattress at her feet.
ÒOh, please hurry!Ó Katrina blurted. She shook her head and her
lovely brown hair swirled about her face and shoulders.
ÒNonsense, dear, an enema is like fine wine, to be savored and
enjoyed,Ó Joan answered. ÒDo you like it?Ó
ÒThe salt stings!Ó Katrina said.
ÒItÕs a very low concentration of saline,Ó Joan said. ÒWhat do you
expect me to do, pump your butt full of champagne?Ó
ÒIt would be nicer,Ó Katrina said. She shook her nude bosoms. They
hung under her crouching figure. Their tips just touched the mattress.
Whenever I moved mine I secretly enjoyed the scraping of my titties
across the sheet.
ÒAnd it would make you drunk too,Ó Joan said. ÒI couldnÕt give you as
much as IÕm going to, without turning you into a drunken slut. No, dear,
youÕll take salt-water up your butt, and quite a lot of it. Lean forward
more. I want to really fill you up!Ó
ÒNo, PLEASE!Ó Katrina said. But she leaned forward, all the same.
Her face pressed to the mattress and her tail lifted higher, toward the
bright overhead lamp that burned so brightly down upon us.
ÒYeah, you sure do have a cute little hole in your ass,Ó Dave said.
Nothing was hidden now, and I blushed, knowing it. I wondered if anyone
was watching me. I hid my face in my hands, so I wouldnÕt see them.
ÒYOOOK!Ó I suddenly squawked. My head shot up and my eyes gaped
wide. He was sticking it in!
ÒThere, there, donÕt wiggle your damn ass around so much. You look
like a duck!Ó Dave said gleefully. He thrust the slim tube higher up my ass.
My passage clenched at it. ÒThis will clean any poop out of you, so you can
have all of me up your ass, every last inch,Ó Dave chortled behind me.
ÒNo, Dave! ItÕs in enough already. DonÕt push it H-I-G-H-E-RRRR!Ó I
shouted. I heard someone laugh. Then I heard Dave laugh. With probing
fingers he shoved that damnable tube still deeper into me. I gasped. I hid
my face in my hands again. I wished my teddy bear were here with me, so
I could hold it. WeÕd share my fate together, me and my Ernest. He would
rub his fuzzy nose against mine and console me.
ÒYesssss,Ó Katrina hissed beside me. What did she mean, I
wondered? Was she liking it, now? I hoped she wasnÕt trying to
encourage me. I didnÕt want any part of this.
ÒOh! God! Please! IÕve had enough!Ó I heard a woman scream in the
distance. A man chuckled. A woman laughed.
ÒNow IÕm going to fill you up,Ó Dave said behind me.
ÒNo, Dave! Not the fluid!Ó I cried. ÒThe tube is enough!Ó Suddenly I
felt a gushing in my behind. I tightened my cheeks. It was no use! Saline,
warm and wet, flooded into my guts. It had a stingy feeling to it. I shook
my ass, trying to shake out the tube, but Dave had stuck it way up me so I
couldnÕt get it out.
ÒFill Ôer up, just like at the gas station,Ó Dave called to me from
behind my bottom. ÒThis is a full service station, young lady. And donÕt
think you can avoid my dipstick,Ó he added, mangling his stupid metaphor.
ÒYEEEEK! I canÕt take anymore!Ó Katrina pleaded beside me.
ÒWhat? You want me to waste the rest of the bag?Ó Joan asked her.
ÒBottom up, young lady. IÕm a nurse. I know exactly when youÕve had
enough, and we are stopping until youÕve got this stuff coming out your
nostrils.Ó
ÒNooooo!Ó Katrina gasped.
ÒYes, darling. IÕve enemized men, women, girls, you name it. YouÕre
acting like a baby. Lift that sweet bottom and stop fighting it.
ÒAack!Ó I heard Katrina howl, and echoed her, my ass filling painfully
full with that awful hospital fluid!
The minutes passed slowly. Each one was an agony of waiting.
Behind me, Dave pumped in the fluid slowly. He enjoyed seeing me shiver
each time more was added, filling me, stretching my bowels. Beside me,
Katrina took her libation with quiet sobs. Joan was pushing her to the
limit. I kept my face in my hands. My eyes were in darkness, despite the
bright lights which shone down on my bottom.
ÒThere,Ó I heard Joan breathe at last.
ÒOh, Jesus, please...Ó Katrina gasped. Her voice quavered. She could
no longer demand, only beg. For mercy. Joan showed her some at last.
ÒNow IÕll begin to withdraw it,Ó I heard Joan say.
ÒMe too!Ó I squeaked to Dave, wiggling my ass. I felt unbearably full
and my tummy felt like it would burst.
ÒAh, youÕre such a baby,Ó Dave replied. But, to my vast relief, I
began to feel the tube that was so far up in me begin to slide backward.
ÒYes,Ó I breathed into my palms. ÔTake it out, take it out, take it
outttt,Õ I wished to scream, but knew he would only jam it up me again if
he heard me. My palms were wet. I was sobbing very quietly into my
hands.
At last the tube popped out of me. I kept my bottom lifted high,
afraid IÕd shit all over the mattress. I felt full, unbearably so.
ÒSquat,Ó Dave ordered. I didnÕt move. He reached around my hips and
grasped me by my shoulders. Up I flew, quite suddenly, drawn by him so
that I rocked, then fell back on my hips. He plopped me onto a bowl. I felt
a gushing within me. Suddenly, my bowels began to fill the bowl. I gritted
my teeth. I looked up, up at the lights, then down between my spread
knees. I saw my poop, all runny, gushing out into the bowl. Was it my
poop, or just the enema water? I couldnÕt be sure. I shivered. I looked
over at Katrina. She was squatting on a bowl, just like me. Joan held her,
kissed her cheek. Katrina blushed. She looked at me.
ÔThis is awful,Õ I knew Katrina wished to say to me, but she worried
about being punished if she said it. My eyes showed the same
uncomfortable feeling. We were like children, having our first sit on the
potty. Tense, anxious, wishing only that it be over and done with.
ÒOhhhh, please!Ó I heard a woman scream in the distance. I could
guess what was happening. The enemas were at an end. She was having a
penis stuffed up her.
ÒNow, back on your knees,Ó Dave told me. He grasped my hair and
shoved me forward. With a shout I fell face down on the mattress. He
took hold of my hips and forced me to lift my bottom. ÒKneel, girl!Ó he
growled. ÒKatrina, help me with her. Joan, wipe her ass so sheÕs ready for
me as soon as IÕve done little Cindy.Ó
ÒNoooo, David!Ó I blurted. I tore at the mattress sheet with my
fingers. I tried to crawl away, but he held me. I felt a big, knobby
presence pass up between the cheeks of my ass. I tried to resist, to keep
my bottomouth shut, but it was wet and slippery from the enema. ÒIN!Ó I
heard David crow. Suddenly, like air being released from a balloon, I felt
all my breath forced from my lungs.
A soft hand caressed my hair. ÒYes, darling, heÕs going to go right up
you,Ó Katrina told me. She giggled. ÒAnd maybe go in you, too!Ó
ÒNo! No! No! No!Ó I hollared. But he was IN me, somehow, and
burrowing deeper still as I fought to catch my breath.
ÒUnh, uhn, uhn!Ó I heard behind me. Male grunts, as a man makes
when heÕs exerting a very great effort.
ÒYeeeeooook! Take it OUT!Ó I pleaded. He filled me, his big
sausagelike prick sliding inexorably up inside my enema-wettened hiney. I
realized then there must have been a mild cream mixed in with the water,
perhaps it was the tang IÕd felt, perhaps there was only it, and the water,
and maybe the word ÒSaline,Ó printed on the bags, was simply there to
fool and confuse, to make it all more exciting. Whatever it was, that fluid
had left me well-lubed. I worked my hips, trying to reject the big,
horrible thing that was burrowing into my bowels, but with every one of
my wriggles Dave just seemed to plunge himself deeper.
ÒOhhh, yes! Take it all, little one!Ó I heard Katrina whisper above
me. Her hands stroked my hair, my back, my silk-ribboned basque.
ÒUnnnnnn, DAve, Nooook!Ó I said. My words were all mushy. I shook
my hips, he plunged deeper still.
ÒGod! SheÕs so tight I can barely stand it!Ó Dave suddenly croaked.
ÒGive her a few strokes at least,Ó Joan told him.
ÒIÕll try,Ó Dave gritted. I felt him begin to pull back. I gasped out a
huge sigh of relief.
ÒYes, please take it oooot!Ó I hooted.
ÒNo, dear, heÕs just pulling back so he can give you your fucking,Ó
Katrina told me. She reached back and took hold of my ass cheeks. I
squealed at her touch. I didnÕt want her helping him! Katrina spread my
bottoms wider, to try to lessen the tightness of my ass upon his dick. I
felt like a turkey, spread and opened for its Thanksgiving stuffing.
ÒAhhhh,Ó Dave said, his words a half-grunt.
ÒYeeeek!Ó I yelled. He was going up me again! ÒNo, David! Please
take it out!Ó I blathered. He paid me no attention. I was just something
soft and wet and cuddly for him to stick his big prong into.
ÒSpear her,Ó Joan said lustily. ÒYour time has come, little girl! You
are an anal virgin no more!Ó she said.
ÒNoooo! I still ammm!Ó I stammered. I hid my face in my hands,
sobbed, wished her statement was false and mine true.
I was taken then, through one of the doors leading away from
childhood. I was just 14, but Dave showed me no mercy. He thrust his big
thing in me, back and forth, making me gasp, cry out, beg, plead, all my
words fruitless. At last, with Katrina squeezing his balls with her hand
(perhaps to save herself!) he spent in my tightness. It was like being
enemized all over again. I felt his hardness in me and his jetting virility.
I tried to expel him by tensing my cheeks but instead he expelled himself
into me, raping me, glutting me with his seed. When at last he pulled from
me he left me crying upon the mattress. My legs lay scissored open behind
me. My raw red bottom felt thoroughly violated. I wished to be small
again, to be me again, but I knew I could never again be quite the same.
I lay sobbing awhile, listening to the screams and moans all around
me. Gradually I recovered. I lifted a hand and swept my blonde hair away
from my eyes. I sighed. I felt pouty and luxuriously miserable. But
despite my growing sense of delight at the sounds all around me, my
bottom still pained me terribly. Or so I told myself. In truth, it was now
a curious cross between smarting and glowing. I denied that it felt good
in any way, though, flexing my cheeks tentatively, issuing a little pained
breath as I did so, I found my well-paddled ass not as disagreeable in its
feelings as IÕd feared. Tenderly I reached back, lying flat on my tummy,
and touched it with both my hands.
ÒOooch,Ó I sighed. Nobody heard. There were screams in the
distance, moans, grunts. The sounds of fertilization. I caressed my
bottom lightly. Yes, it was still hot, though I was no longer sure whether
it was hot and dislikable, as a fever is, or hot and tittilated, as a lover is.
I rose to my knees. I kept my face pressed to the mattress. I
extruded the warm, polished halves of my bottoms into my seeking palms
and opened my cheeks with my fingers.
ÒAhhh,Ó I breathed to myself. I felt the air of the room, not as cool
as before, but still soothing, touch my tiny anus. It felt bigger now. My
whole bottom felt bigger. Even my bosoms, cushioning my chest, felt
bigger beneath me. And my nipples were still traitorously swollen with
lust. I shoved my bottom back into my clutching hands. Wider I spread
myself. Then I drew away my fingers, feeling a little embarrassed, and
placed them under my chin. They were moist with vaseline and I caught a
scent of DaveÕs seed on them. My fingers joined stickily under my chin. I
had him in me now. I possessed him. Dave. Did it mean I loved him? I
donÕt think so. I didnÕt like him, not really. He was too big and old and
rude for me. But still, I think IÕd grown to respect him. He had a
respectable cock, I told myself, and giggled.
The air caressed my hot bottom. I pushed it out more, dipped my
back, let it gently wash over my paddle-braised skin. Mmmm, I
daydreamed. I wondered again about Dave and then about Steven and what
he and his second-choice girlfriend were doing in their honeymoon bower
in Rome. Were they happy? Or were they worn out with each other by
now, and looking, perhaps, for excuses to part? I had a boyfriend once,
just my age, and we fought. He wasnÕt polite, as Dave was, in his odd,
grown man way. Perhaps I liked Dave a little, but not really, no. Just a
little because he was nice to me, in a sort of sick, perverted way. And
because, I giggled again, he had a very respectable cock.
ÒOh! GOD! Not againnnn,Ó I heard a girl cry. I turned my head,
slightly. Like a cat, like the detached owl in Bladerunner, I peered into the
mass of bodies sprawled on the joined mattresses. Poor girl. Why did she
come here if she didnÕt wish to be fucked? I asked myself. Silly girl. Even
I knew it would be an ÔaÕ party... that sort of party. I didnÕt like saying the
word but, still, I admitted to myself, IÕd known, hadnÕt I? Known it would
be an ÔaÕ party, and that my ÔaÕ would have to entertain. I giggled again.
...Respectable cocks. Like DaveÕs.
I closed my eyes. My eyelashes fluttered and I sighed. I was
content, though my ÔaÕ was very sore. IÕd had mine. IÕd been undone, but it
had been bearable, though not how IÕd have liked it, I donÕt think. How
would I have liked it? I wasnÕt sure. IÕd heard of women riding atop men,
riding their prong until it burst into them. Yes, IÕd like that. But I knew,
if that had been the way it had been offered to me, IÕd have refused. IÕd
have said Ôno,Õ Ôsorry,Õ Ôno thank you,Õ as all good girls must. And so it was
that instead, I had to take it as I had. I felt content. I was too good to
ride on top. To ride me a man had to force me a little, just a little, but be
polite about it, and of course he must have a respectable cock. Not just
any man would do, no no. He had to be respectable. And he had to use just
a little persuasion and force, else IÕd be an old maid. Of that I was sure.
I hummed a tune to myself. I wiggled my toes as I hummed it:
ÒCock, cock, cock, are you in the dock... again?
ÒDid you pop a girl who was too young?
ÒAnd now youÕve got to pretend?
ÒThat by her your balls were not rung?Ó
I wiggled my bottom. I liked my song. Men like Dave should beware.
I could get them in lots of trouble. I smiled. A catÕs smile. I brushed back
my spider-like blonde hair. It stuck to my sticky fingers a little. I
plucked off the strands. Perhaps I would weave a web around Dave and get
him in lots of trouble, I told myself happily.
A girl on her knees is an invitation. Alas, I didnÕt know that at the
time. I thought IÕd given my due. I was 14, after all. What more could
they want from me? Then, hearing a heavy tread behind me, I suddenly
froze. My head turned quickly back over my shoulder.
ÒYeek!Ó I gasped. A huge blonde goliath was grinning down at me. I
tried to scurry away but I bumped my head against the door of the closet.
It was closed. IÕd retreived what Joan wanted and closed it, politely. Now
it blocked my escape. The blonde god dropped to his knees behind me,
seized my hips, all in one quick movement.
ÒNo! IÕve already been done!Ó I blurted to him. ÒIÕm only 14!Ó
ÒIÕve done three girls already and youÕre going to be the fourth,Ó he
said matter-of-factly. He flexed his cock. It was huge. It put to shame
those big sausages that hang from the ceiling in the Pepperidge Farm
store. Suddenly, Katrina appeared. Her hair was tousled, messy really,
and I saw white foam caked in it. Sperm. I breathed a sigh of relief as
she dropped to her knees beside the Cyclopian man.
ÒYou canÕt just stick yourself in her,Ó Katrina told him. I breathed a
quick sigh of relief. I wriggled my hips hard, but he held them fast with
his giant-like hands. ÒHere, let me wash your penis first,Ó Katrina told
the big blonde. She produced a medicated pad from somewhere, lifted it to
her teeth. She bit it open. Then she reached down and gently,
respectfully, swabbed the head of his big cock. ÒHmmm,Ó she said. ÒIÕm
going to need several more.Ó Quickly she turned on her heels, still
kneeling, and reached behind her. She turned back, bit open another pad.
ÒDonÕt fuck one girl in the ass and then another without washing your
penis first,Ó she explained to the giant. She drew the cleansing pad along
the top of his shaft. Then she slid it underneath and wiped the sensitive
part of him, right behind his cockhead.
ÒOof! Hurry up, girl!Ó the giant said.
ÒMy, still so excited, and after three emissions already?Ó Katrina
asked him.
ÒI need a lot of sex,Ó the big man admitted.
ÒWell, I hope you get enough tonight,Ó Katrina said frankly.
ÒI hope so too,Ó the man answered.
ÒI donÕt WANT him having sex with me!Ó I blurted from my crouched
position in front of him.
ÒItÕs not what you want, itÕs whatÕs available,Ó Katrina said to me.
ÒYouÕve been opened by Dave. Now youÕre available to others. And they to
you. ItÕs an orgy, dear.Ó
ÒNook!Ó I said. I half-gagged on my word for, as I spoke it, I felt the
big blonde hunk jab me hard with the pee-holed tip of his cock.
ÒOpen Sesame Street,Ó the giant said, in a flat voice. I donÕt think
he knew there was a Sesame and a Sesame Street. Stupid hunk. I pulled
my body forward, clutching at the mattress, trying hard to free myself
from his grip.
ÒStay, girl!Ó he growled. Katrina, just rising, turned her head,
thinking he meant her.
ÒWhat, you wish to do me next?Ó Katrina laughed. ÒPoor man. IÕm
not responsible for your sperm problem.Ó Then, smiling at him, but in a
dismissive sort of way, a Ôcatch me if you canÕ sort of way, she walked
away, leaving me with him. Her bare bottom rolled atop her long straight
legs, an invitation, IÕm sure, to his following eye, but smeared already
with the spendings of other men, which oozed milk-like from her heinie
hole.
ÒKatrina!Ó I screamed. I couldnÕt believe it! How could she just let
this awful big blonde stupid man fuck me with his enormous cock. Tears
burst from my eyes. I felt betrayed. Then I saw her walk wobble, and she
collapsed to a mattress as only someone drunk, or exhausted, could. Alas!
The minute she was flat on the mattress a man, large and handsome but
surely not with her permission, leaned over her. He raised her legs and
splayed them. He presented his cock to her and rammed it up within her
belly. Her head lifted up, her eyes gaped, then it fell back again. I saw the
tip of her tongue rise from between her lips and then loll down with them
once more.
Suddenly two elegant legs appeared next to my face. Coming up from
behind me, stepping over my head with one foot, Joan compassed my face
with both her shapely ankles.
ÒA champagne enema will do that to a person,Ó Joan said matter of
factly, following my gaze. ÒThey had quite a party, over on the other side
of the room, her and Dave and another couple. They kept dousing each
otherÕs rectums. Such a silly sport. But they promised me theyÕd pay me
for the champagne, so I let them have it.Ó
ÒNow that guy is letting her have it,Ó the giant behind me said.
ÒSaul, youÕre much too big for her,Ó Joan said to the hunk behind me.
ÒYouÕre even bigger than her boyfriend, and heÕs no slouch in the cock
department. Unhand her hips. Find someone older, with a little more
practise in accomodating your size. SheÕs practically had her first one
tonight!Ó
I held my breath. I prayed to Jesus. Finally, with a grunt of great
displeasure, the giant let go of my ass.
ÒThatÕs what I hate about your parties. Not enough freedom,Ó the
giant said.
ÒI may host parties that are orgies, but theyÕre still kept within
certain bounds, dear,Ó Joan replied. ÒThank you, and come again, as IÕm
sure you will. But if you want to come again to my next party, you must
always do as I say.Ó
ÒIÕd rip you in half with my hands if you werenÕt so sexy and having
such great parties,Ó the blonde ogre said.
ÒYes, dear, now go spend your seed,Ó Joan answered.
ÒWhew!Ó I squeaked. I looked up, saw myself staring straight into
her cunt, looked quickly back down again.
ÒStay just as you are, dear,Ó Joan replied. An icy chill shot down my
spine.
ÒWhy?Ó I asked. My voice was meek, tremulous. My asscheeks flexed
behind me, hiding my hole in their huddling halves, then easing open again
to reveal it.
ÒYes, over here, Raymond. Here she is. Is your cock ready? My! Such
a nice long one, but not too wide. Yes, she needs another. No girl leaves
my party with just one sperming. Especially from her own boyfriend. Get
down and give it to her. She needs the practice.Ó
ÒNooooooo!!!Ó I screeched. Too late! The young turk was at me before
I could even think of jumping away. Eagerly he thrust his dickhead into my
bare cheeks. I tightened my hole. He pressed. I felt rubber, knew him to
be wearing a condom. It was well lubed. My anus resisted. I scrunched my
eyes closed, balled my fists under my face. I ground my bosoms into the
mattress underneath me, dipped my back, hoping to spring away, rabbit-
like.
ÒYOOK!Ó I cried. He handled my hot bottom with excited hands,
feeling my burnished skin, still warm from my paddling.
ÒGod, I love fucking a girl whoÕs been spanked,Ó he admitted to Joan.
I rotated my bottom in his clutching hands as he felt my skin. Perhaps I
could still escape...
Suddenly JoanÕs ankles clipped themselves against my ears. I could
not move my head! She held it as if in a vise, using just her legs.
ÒJoaoooooonn!Ó I gasped. I felt RaymondÕs (was that his name?) dick
ram itself suddenly into my hole.
ÒAhhh, in! She is well lubed from her boyfriendÕs spendings,Ó
Raymond said. He prodded himself further within me. I was still wet
inside, though the sheen of DaveÕs sperm on the outside of my anus had
dried.
ÒYes, give it to her,Ó Joan urged above me, holding my head so that I
had no way to escape. ÒSheÕs still such a diffident little virgin. She must
be brought to enjoy cock, to take it and to welcome it, even the biggest
ones.Ó
Raymond pushed deeper in me. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. It
was long, moderately thick (though it seemed gigantic at the time), and
stiff as a bar of iron. The latex of his condom separated the flesh of his
poker from my own. I wriggled, tried to escape. I felt my long-columned
legs splayed wider by his knees. My I snorted. My teeth chattered. He
shoved his hips closer, his dong pierced deeper.
ÒOhhh! PLEASE! Take it out!Ó I blathered. Joan laughed. Raymond
gave me another poke in response. I felt my lungs empty themselves onto
the closet door in front of me. As quickly I gulped in new air, could barely
hold it. A quick thrust from Raymond and I realized he was almost all the
way up me now. I lifted myself, felt my breasts wobble free under me.
ÒNO! Down, girl!Ó Joan, who had relaxed her grip on my head, barked.
Her calves came slamming into my ears. She held me frozen in my half-
upraised pose. Raymond probed deeper still in my ass. I felt his full balls
bump rudely against my snatch. Our hairs, mine soft, his kinky,
intermingled there.
I was fucked. With slow, expert strokes, as if breaking in a new
filly, Raymond thrust and jabbed within me. With each leaping stroke of
his cock I prayed he would cum, but he didnÕt. ÒYou are being trained,Ó
Joan told me from above. SheÕd saved me from the blonde ogre only to put
me instead to a Master, it seemed, of opening brand new girls. I wondered
if sheÕd put him to my still-virgin cunt next.
ÒUnnnhh! Please cum,Ó I breathed through gritted teeth. Joan
laughed.
ÒDo you want me to tiddle my slit and cum in sprinkles upon your
hair?Ó Joan asked me.
ÒNoooo!Ó I felt my breath expelled and had to fight for a new gasp,
waiting for RaymondÕs outstroke, before I could speak again. ÒNo! Him!Ó I
blurted, and it was all I could say before Raymond thrust himself in again,
lurching all the air from me.
ÒMmmm, she must have the worldÕs most beautiful bottom,Ó I heard
Raymond say behind me. His hands fondled my tail in admiration. I
twisted my back, then stilled myself, afraid his long thing, so deep inside
me, might rip up my insides if I tried wriggled too much. I was caught
upon him. I could escape no more than a fish could, speared on a scuba
diverÕs weapon.
ÒUh! May I come, Joan?Ó I heard Raymond say with a voice suddenly
agonized. I felt his balls shiver against me. ÒMay I come?Ó
ÒThree more strokes,Ó Joan said. ÒGive her three more. I want her
well opened so that she complains not so much in the future about this
sort of thing.Ó
Back he drew himself, the latex-sheathed prong sliding from me like
a big turd oozing down my insides. Then, just when you would think it
would pop out, it shot up me again!
ÒGAAAAA!Ó I cried, whinnied, bleated, all of them, a sheep and a
mare and a pig too, perhaps, speared Piglet-like on the end of my
toothbrush back at the hotel.
ÒThere, back again, dear. Hold it! Hold! I know sheÕs tight, dear,
thatÕs why IÕm having you do her!Ó Joan scolded Raymond.
ÒWHEW! I canÕt!Ó Raymond gasped, but indeed he did, much to my
chagrin, driving himself up me yet again.
ÒNow back once more,Ó Joan commanded.
ÒOh, God! What an ass! How beautiful, how tight!Ó Raymond
exclaimed. He was in the throes of his passion now, his balls churning,
right on the brink of release. I felt him begin to slide back. ÒNOOOO!Ó he
cried suddenly. He thrust himself hard into me, without pulling back as
heÕd been told. My eyes gaped. I bumped my nose against the closet door.
Suddenly, there was a huge throbbing within me, splitting me open in my
deepest, most intimate parts like a knife splitting apart a peach. I felt
spasms. His thing spasmed in me. Yet there was no discharge from his
peehole, for he wore the condom. His hand reached down, around my belly.
His fingers grabbled at my puss. I shivered. We came, together. I spent
my dew on his balls, anointing them, though he gave me nothing but the
jerkings of his cock.
30
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