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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PRIVATE PLACES
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Chapter Three
The next night arrived all too quickly. We looked perfect, of course,
except for our still-marred bottoms. Mine was in fact white as snow
again, while Barbi had just the lightest traces remaining of her welts.
Sara, though, had a bottom still visibly bruised, and Maria looked almost
fresh from the trestle. For clothes we wore elegant shifts, sliced
uncompromisingly right across the tops of our thighs, leaving our legs
bare. The shifts were metallic, made of the lightest mesh of tie-dyed
metal links, much as Tara had worn many nights ago with Barbi, greeting
the Russians. Barbi had always wanted to wear such a garment. Now she
could, albeit in the presence of unwanted men.
We wore beautiful pumps, glittering, expensive earrings, and forced
smiles. Mistress, wearing a business suit, a jacket plus a skirt, greeted
the men at the front door. They did not enter from the back, walking
through the forest. They were formal guests. They would not be
privileged to all mistressÕ secrets as master and David and Jeffrey were.
ÒGirls, these are our friends for the evening,Ó mistress said. I
blanched. They were computer nerds! They looked like they spent most of
their time reading sexy stories on the Internet, instead of meeting real
girls. (Not that any would have necessarily been interested.) They had too
many freckles, or too many pimples, or were a little too wide around the
middle, or too thin in the chest. One thing mistress assured us, though:
ÒThey are well endowed where it counts, girls! I had them stop by my
office the other day and inspected them individually.Ó They grinned at her.
I suspected sheÕd had them drop their pants, dismissed some, asked others
to come back this evening. ÒAnd theyÕre not too often with girls, so they
will be most attentive, if a little hasty.Ó I thought we were to be taken
then, but such is not mistressÕ manner. ÒBut enough of such silliness,Ó
she continued. ÒBoys, I expect you to treat these girls as if you were on a
real date with them. I realize that not all of you have actually gone on a
date, but do your best to be on your best behavior. Now, if youÕll excuse
me, I promised the girls that if theyÕd be a little daring, to please you, IÕd
be daring too.Ó She actually asked their permission if she could slip off
her skirt. They nodded, dumbfounded, then watched in awe as this Anna-
Nicole Smith lookalike wriggled her dress down her long modelÕs legs and
finally stepped out of it. ÒWould one of you hang it up for me?Ó she asked,
pointing to a coat closet near the front door.
ÒIÕll worship it for you!Ó one of the nerds replied.
ÒThat wonÕt be necessary,Ó mistress smiled. ÒJust hang it up. IÕm
sure IÕll need it again sometime. Now come into the rec room, boys. LetÕs
kick back and enjoy some hot dogs and play.Ó
With each of the males taking one of us by the arm, with two left
over, we found ourselves escorted into mistressÕ game room. There was a
small indoors grill for cooking hotdogs. Mistress, incongruously in her
business jacket, with her legs sheathed in stockings and her garters
showing, set about cooking hot dogs for the boys. The girls and I settled
onto the floor for a round of stud poker. One of the boys dealt out the
cards. He became instantly absorbed in seeing that they were properly
shuffled and dealt, first counting them, to ensure that 52 cards were in
fact in the deck. Such is the way with nerds. The rest, luridly, watched
Barbi, myself, Sara and Maria as we tried our best to sit on the floor
without our shifts riding up to show our nude pussies underneath. We
wore no clothing except the shifts. It was most embarrassing to be seen
by such nerdy men, whom we cared nothing for. I tugged on the end of my
hem, blushing as they watched my crotch. I tried very hard to get the end
of my shirt down over my pussy. Barbi fidgeted with hers, Sara smiled a
bit sheepishly and simply gave up. Her shift lay swathed over her tummy,
her breasts, then stopped short just where it was needed most. She had
pretty cunt lips, at least. Maria worried more about her bottom than her
pussy. It was still painful for her to sit on it.
Mistress handed around hot dogs to the boys. She had let them cool,
and she insisted the boys eat them without any buns.
ÒBut weÕll get grease on our fingers!Ó a nerd whined.
ÒSo?Ó mistress smiled.
ÒBut that will get finger-grease on the cards,Ó he replied.
ÒYes, and then the cards might get marked, and being marked, allow
us to cheat!Ó a second nerd chimed in, to the general agreement of the
others.
ÒBoys, you will eat your hotdogs this way, and so will the girls.
LetÕs enjoy ourselves, shall we? But a little at a time. I donÕt want any
fratboy behavior in my house.Ó
ÒYes, maÕam,Ó they replied, sounding almost like myself and Barbi
when we were trying our best to be quiet and obey.
ÒThis reminds me of the one time I went to the nudie bar,Ó a fat boy
offered, hoping to engage Barbi, whom his eyes seemed to linger on more
than the others. (I was not jealous, I can assure you.)
Mistress cleared her throat, touching her hand to it. She swallowed.
ÒBoys, IÕm beginning to think some of you have never been with a
young lady before,Ó mistress intoned, her voice pleasant but with an
undercurrent of proper Southern respectability, which would be enforced,
because she looked like a beautiful Southern belle and such beauty, in a
woman of maturity, demanded respect. Demanded it. I saw Rhett Butler
suddenly, and Ashley, and even the vicious Union troops on their march to
the sea, suddenly stopping for tea with mistress. However aggressive
they might be on the battlefield, whether theyÕd just finished raping young
innocent schoolgirls while getting into the gin, suddenly, in the presence
of mistress, they must behave properly. I could see her swishing out onto
the veranda in her long skirt, but with her blouse perhaps undone, her
titties showing too much, yet with that blonde hair and those penetrating
eyes set in her soft, sweet face, insisting, wordlessly, or perhaps with
just the few rightly selected words, that they must Òset themselves
downÓ and enjoy a summerÕs afternoon with her, pleasantly sipping the
first tea of the season. ÒWell, you have a lot to learn,Ó mistress said. She
plucked her hot dog from her mouth. It was wet with her saliva, but she
had not bitten into it yet. ÒObviously you boys must realize that we girls
are not thinking about sex all the time,Ó she said. (That was most
certainly true on this evening! Yet, suddenly realizing my master might be
watching, I felt my nipples push up into the mesh of my metal dress,
where they intruded into and caught themselves in the interconnected
links. I hoped none of the boys would pull off my dress too quickly. It
looked like IÕd just become caught in it! Oh, why would he make me suffer
like this, entertaining boys I didnÕt care about, getting caught in the most
insufferable way with my most tender parts, in a dress no girl should ever
wear, hiding little up top because the mesh was light enough that it could
be seen through, the metal being transparent, and so short it should have
been labelled a jacket instead of a dress, for all it did to cover my pussy.)
Mistress turned the wettened hot dog in her fingers, holding just the
end of it, letting it point up toward the ceiling freely. ÒBoys, what does
this remind you of?Ó mistress asked coyly.
The boys glanced furtively among themselves. She seemed to have
just scolded one of them for mentioning the nudie bar, yet now the
question she posed was so obviously intended for only one answer, did
they dare to give it? Finally the boldest, not wanting to displease
mistress but spurred alternately by a desire to impress us with his
knowledge, announced, ÒThatÕs simple. It reminds me of my cock. Mine
would look more like a cucumber of course, but--Ó
ÒYes, dear, you have the cock of a donkey. Very good,Ó mistress
interrupted. She had no time for boys and their stories. We girls giggled
which, alas, caused our shifts to rise up, exposing our pussies, which I and
Barbi, at least, quickly repaired when we realized what we were showing.
ÒAnd what must you do with this before you put it into a girl?Ó
mistress asked our Champion of Knowledge. I found out later his name
was Egbert. Apparently in the middle ages that was actually a good name
but, alas, his nerdy mother when she named him must not have realized
that the middle ages were over.
ÒWell, uh,Ó Egbert said, perhaps considering some physics
calculation in his mind, estimating the mathematical formulas that would
be inherently necessary in the conjunction of two separate bodies in
space... ÒI think you have to put vaseline on it or something...Ó
ÒEgbert, letÕs have a little lesson here, shall we?Ó mistress asked.
ÒIÕm glad IÕm able to bring this up with you boys tonight. Who knows what
might have happened to you out there if I hadnÕt?Ó
ÒThe library would have six extra guys in it?Ó Barbi asked. She
seemed distracted, not really caring. I think she wanted to be with
master. She liked having me around, for company, but she wanted to be
with him, as his wife, in a husband and wife setting, in her own home,
with him talking to her, and listening. I think sheÕd had lots of adventures
before and was beginning to tire of them. For myself, I was intrigued.
Even though the boys were worthless, they had such innocence, and yet
such bulges where it mattered, that I couldnÕt help feeling a little giddy.
Especially since master might be watching, and the husbands of Sara and
Maria. Sara seemed bashful but interested. She exuded a motherly
warmth, yet she was too young to be a mother, such that she simply
seemed caring and friendly. Maria still seemed primarily absorbed with
her bottom. IÕd never been hit so hard. How did it feel, I wondered? Often
as a child IÕd been threated by mom that sheÕd hit me Òso hard that youÕll
feel it for a week!Ó Of course such a thing had never happened. IÕd not
even been spanked, spoiled brat that I was. Yet Maria was now clearly
still feeling in her seat, her poor bare heinie, the effects of a truly
admonitory cropping. And it had been mistress, sitting right here with us,
so sweet and kind, who had administered it. And for what? For nothing,
really, when you thought about it. Maria had done nothing whatsoever to
offend mistress. Mistress had been paid to beat her, like an executioner.
No cross words or hard feelings had been necessary. MariaÕs husband had
simply brought her to Ms. Highbourne, paid the appropriate fee, and then
Ms. Highbourne had whipped Maria according to her masterÕs
specifications. Simple as that. Mistress really did have Southern blood in
her, I thought. Her great-granddad might well have been someone who
punished slaves, for a fee. IÕd read of such a thing in a book once. There
would be a man in the town whom a master could bring his slave to, for
punishment. The slave might have done something, or nothing at all. The
slave had no voice. She (or he) was simply brought, punished, and taken
home again, sobbing and weeping. I watched as Maria tried to find a comfy
way to sit on her bottom. She didnÕt seem to be succeeding too well at it.
She tugged at her hem a little, trying to hide her pussy, and failing at that
too, for she kept squirming on her injured bottom.
ÒBoys, you must always wear a condom,Ó mistress announced,
apparently to virgin ears. The boys nodded solemnly. ÒEgbert, please get
out your condom for me.Ó Egbert blushed. He gulped and bowed his head.
ÒUh, I forgot,Ó he apologized.
ÒDid any of you boys bring a condom?Ó mistress asked. They glanced
nervously at each other. ÒNONE of you?Ó Mistress frowned as Barbi and I
and Sara and even Maria had to work hard to suppress laughing our heads
off. Barbi let out a little giggle, clapping her hands to her mouth. She was
finally involved in the matter before us. I let my eyes dance merrily and
kept my lips tightly pressed together, my cheeks filling with air as I just
managed to stave off bursting into giggles. Sara smiled, warm and
friendly. I thought she might reach out and take EgbertÕs hand to console
him. The boys were clearly embarrassed. ÒBoys, how could you go to a
whorehouse without taking any condoms along?Ó mistress asked.
ÒUh, is this a whorehouse?Ó a boy asked, wide-eyed.
ÒDo you normally see girls dressed like this in your school?Ó
mistress questioned.
ÒNoooo,Ó a boy replied. ÒItÕs just that you said to be polite and-Ó
ÒWell of course you must be POLITE, boys! Girls are different from
you. You know that. Tell me, boys, while I get up to find some condoms
for us, how are girls different from boys?Ó She rose, still firmly in
control of the situation, for the boys all turned their eyes to view the
offered undercurve of her bottom as she stood. Her two silken cheeks
were sheathed in fine French panties. The undies were delicately
transparent, and she stood so close, with her jacket riding high from her
sitting, that even though most of her bottom was covered by her jacket
the boys were given an enticing sight of her innermost curves, where her
anus dwelled and her pussylips began their promising pout.
Silence reigned. None of the boys were even thinking about how to
answer her, so absorbed were they by the sight of her mature, womanly
bottom, tight and firm yet full-grown, the kind of motherÕs bottom theyÕd
probably all fantasized about sticking their dicks into since they were
infants, watching mom drink coffee with the neighborhood ladies from
their crib.
ÒOh, you boys amaze me with your ignorance!Ó mistress scolded.
ÒThink of this: arenÕt my underpants different from yours?Ó She reached
up under her jacket and slowly pulled her panties down. As if to tease
them she stuck out her butt just a little, modestly, then wiggled it to get
her pantiesÕ crotch to snap free of her cunt lips. She dragged the undies
down her long legs and stepped out of them. One of the legholes caught on
her spiked pumpÕs heel. She got it free and tossed her panties right into
EgbertÕs face.
ÒGAAACK!Ó Egbert cried. We all laughed.
ÒThere! See for yourself!Ó mistress announced. ÒSmell them while
you have them on your face. Do they smell like a boyÕs underpants?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Egbert admitted, beginning to enjoy himself, with her panties
hanging off his pointed nose, his glasses steaming.
ÒAll of you boys smell my panties!Ó mistress said. ÒIÕll have no
more of this ignorance amongst boys in college! What have you boys been
doing all these years?Ó
ÒUh, well...Ó the fat boy offered.
ÒNever mind, I know what youÕve been doing!Ó mistress answered.
ÒIn your case, youÕve been eating, but the rest of you...jerking off! ThatÕs
what youÕve been doing! Why, youÕve been so busy jerking off you donÕt
even know to bring condoms to a whorehouse. Let me get some, and then
weÕre going to have a little training. You boys will leave here as men
tonight! And I expect you to go OUT this Saturday night. ThatÕs right. No
more sitting at home posting Òme tooÓ posts on alt.sex.stories. No more
spending hours in the AOL chat rooms talking to ÒgirlsÓ who are actually
50-year-old fags.Ó She walked across the room, rummaged in a drawer,
came back with a handful of shrink-wrapped Trojans. ÒThere!Ó she
proclaimed, tossing the rubbers at the boys. ÒThose are condoms! That is
what you take when you go out on Saturday night. You can buy those in the
grocery, boys. They are usually in the next aisle over from the computer
magazines, in the stores IÕve seen.Ó
Mistress sat back down. She tugged on her jacket to make it cover
her pussy as well as it could. She picked up a condom package and tugged
at it, hoping to rip it open. But her mind was elsewhere, still on her
lecture, and the differences between girls and boys.
ÒDid you know girls have periods?Ó mistress asked. ÒDid you know
that they get PMS once a month?Ó She gazed for a moment at their blank
faces. ÒNever mind,Ó she continued. ÒWeÕll stick to the basics tonight, as
in, ÔWhat goes where.Õ ThatÕs all youÕre interested in anyway, isnÕt it?Ó
The boys, foolishly absorbed in her words, nodded. ÒI thought so,Ó
mistress said. Then she smiled, as if to reassure them that they were, in
fact, doing just fine. At least for 20-year-old virgins. ÒTell me, sticking
to the matter at hand, how else are girls different from boys?Ó
ÒUh, they have nice asses, without any hair in them,Ó a boy with
crooked glasses volunteered, shooting up his hand to answer as if Ms.
Highbourne was his first grade teacher.
ÒVery good. What is your name?Ó
ÒBillie!Ó the boy announced, pleased that heÕd been called on,
acknowledged.
ÒBillie, how are girlÕs bottoms different, besides just looking nice?Ó
mistress asked. Billie, for all his eagerness, seemed stumped.
ÒTheir buttholes are smaller,Ó mistress replied. ÒDoes that seem
fair to you? Think of it, a penis must inevitably go up a girlÕs butthole at
some time if her life, if she is truly to acknowledge her husband as her
master and surrender herself to him completely. Yet, instead of having a
nice big butthole, which would be practical, considering how big your cock
is, Egbert, we girls are born with wee little assholes, which must be
forced if they are to ever receive completely. IsnÕt that right, girls?Ó
mistress turned to me. I gasped. ÒDoes it hurt to have a penis go up your
butt, Fury?Ó mistress asked me.
ÒI-I donÕt know,Ó I replied bashfully. ÒIÕve-Ó
ÒWhat? YouÕve never done it? Is that what youÕre saying?Ó she
asked. I let my eyes sink to the floor and instinctively passed my hands
back round my bottom and took hold of my bottomcheeks. Naughtily I
pulled them apart a little, feeling the firmness, the stretchiness, in my
hands. There was no way any cock could go up my little hole! ÒIÕm only
13,Ó I replied.
ÒOnly 13?Ó mistress asked. ÒDo you hear that, boys? Only 13, yet
she has such nice, big breasts for a 13-year-old, donÕt you think?Ó
ÒThey just grew,Ó I replied.
ÒOf course they did, dear,Ó she said. ÒAnd your bottom just fattened
up too, didnÕt it? Nice and plump, so that you canÕt walk down the beach
anymore without grown men noticing you go by. And when you bend over to
pick up a seashell, well, what do you think they think about?Ó
ÒPorking her up the butt!Ó the fat boy announced.
ÒVery good, tubby,Ó mistress said. ÒBut yours is probably so wide
youÕd split her right apart if you did it to her. YouÕll have to let somebody
else go first. Egbert, perhaps, heÕs nice and skinny, arenÕt you? A bit long,
though. Where is your bulge, Billy? Did you squirt in your pants already?
ItÕs not nice to cum in your pants.Ó
ÒIÕm sorry. I couldnÕt help it, when you said about her bending over I
just...Ó
ÒTch! Tch!Ó mistress said. She reached behind herself, plucked a box
of kleenex off a low coffee table. ÒOpen up yourself and let me clean up
your mess. I canÕt send you home to your mommie with spermy
underpants.Ó
We watched, all of us mildly intrigued (and the boys ecstatic) as
mistress played wet nurse to Billie. With her help he was unzipped, his
underpants opened, and his sperm scooped out into handkerchiefs. ÒHas
nobody ever helped you with this sort of problem before, Billie?Ó mistress
asked. Her voice was consoling. ÒItÕs okay. You just need to be around
girls more, thatÕs all, Billie. 13-year-old girls included. DonÕt ignore
them, if they excite you. Otherwise youÕll be president someday and youÕll
be making a speech when, suddenly, a 13-year-old girl in the audience
bends over to pick something up and you shoot off right there, on CNN.
Now that would be silly, wouldnÕt it, having a wet spot on CNN?
ÔGreetings, Mr. Yeltsin,Õ you might say. ÔDonÕt mind my wet spot. Your
daughter bent over to pick up her hankie as I was coming into the
building.ÕÓ
Mistress finished scooping out BillieÕs sperm. She crumpled the
handkerchiefs in her hands. ÒMaria, please open your mouth,Ó she said.
Maria looked shocked. ÒYou heard me,Ó mistress said. ÒShow these boys
what happens when you donÕt obey.Ó MariaÕs face became stricken. Her
fortunes were worsening by the second. ÒGet up, Maria,Ó mistress said.
ÒGet off that lazy ass of yours, turn around, and walk up to each boy and
let him inspect you in behind.Ó Maria swallowed, rose silently to her feet,
still pulling on her hem as she stood, as if hiding herself still mattered,
at least as a point of pride, and turned around. ÒLift up your dress,Ó
mistress said. Maria put her hands behind herself, the boys already
straining forward, their eyes wide, for they thought theyÕd seen something
upon her heinie, something theyÕd not even dreamed could be done to a girl,
at least in real life. ÒGet it right up, Maria, donÕt dally!Ó mistress,
impatient, ordered her.
Maria lifted up the back of her dress. There was nothing to it,
really, the dress ended right where her heinie did, and the slightest lifting
of it immediately bared her nether cheeks.
The boysÕ breath caught in their throats. They coughed, the fat boy
began having hiccups. Across MariaÕs once-lovely bottom lay an
entrancing series of brutal marks, deep bruises that threatened to last for
weeks. ÒYes, thatÕs what you must be prepared to do if your wives
misbehave,Ó mistress intoned. ÒWomenÕs lib must stop where the bedroom
begins, donÕt you think, boys? These men who are brought to trial for
raping their wives! Such silliness! It is the wifeÕs duty to open herself to
her man. Why else was she born with a hole, and he with a penis? When he
is erect, she must open. Is he to go down the street to the neighbor lady?
Of course not! Marriages must be preserved. They are the bedrock of our
society, as Bill Clinton himself will tell you. Sit down, Maria, and let me
put these spermy kleenex into your mouth. It is a trash can, as far as IÕm
concerned, if you were using it to tell your dear husband that you wish to
see other men besides him. Sit right down and open your mouth for me!Ó
Maria sat, giving a little moan as her bottom once again made
contact with the floor. Silently, fearing greatly that mistress, especially
with her own husband secretly watching, might beat her again, Maria
parted her lips. ÒWider, girl, IÕve used several kleenexes,Ó mistress
admonished. Maria, looking strangely pretty now, opened her lips wider to
receive BillyÕs spermload. Mistress pushed the wad of kleenex into the
girlÕs mouth, then eased MariaÕs lips shut, for the girl was as reluctant to
close her lips as sheÕd been to open them. Mistress patted MariaÕs cheek.
ÒThere, there. Now chew, dear. Sperm is edible, and tissue paper wonÕt
hurt you. Chew and swallow your dessert properly. When youÕre done you
can kiss Billie for being your studly provider.Ó
Maria sat with a shocked look on her face, her lips not moving.
Mistress drew back her hand, as if to slap her. At once Maria began
chewing, just a little, her eyes big and her nose wiggling as if she wished
for all the world to somehow disappear into thin air. How humiliating! To
actually eat the sperm of a nerd! Well, he was a virgin at least, so there
was no risk of disease. Yet I myself would rather have been kidnapped by
pirates and force fed on their genitals for a month than eat sperm from an
ugly nerd. Maria chewed slowly.
ÒFaster, dear, or are you savoring the taste?Ó mistress asked. We
were all watching her, us girls pitying her, the boys entranced.
ÒNo,Ó Maria mumbled, her mouth quite full.
ÒWell, chew it up and get it down,Ó mistress said. ÒYouÕve still got
your hot dog to eat, I see, and itÕs gotten cold now. IÕll use it for a prop in
my lecture on anal sex if you donÕt eat it.Ó
Yikes! I picked up my own hot dog, which IÕd just taken one bite of,
and immediately found a new interest in consuming it. Barbi and even
Sara did the same. Mistress laughed. ÒSee, boys? These girls donÕt waste
food. IÕve got them well trained. Now, where were we? Oh yes, I have my
own hot dog, donÕt I? Well, I need this to be whole a little while longer,
for we must see what is the proper use of a condom, mustnÕt we?Ó She
laughed, enjoying herself. Her bosoms moved within her still-buttoned
jacket.
Mistress picked up her hot dog off the floor. ÒNow boys, letÕs
pretend this is your penis,Ó mistress said. I glanced at their crotches.
They were still bulging, all but Billie, and I knew they were eager to lose
their virginity on this night, if they could. They were quite attentive as
mistress began the next portion of her lecture, even more so than theyÕd
been before. ÒFirst you should wet your cock, so the condom will slide on
smoothly,Ó mistress said. ÒHave a friend do it for you,Ó she advised, then
added quickly: ÒA GIRL friend, boys. DonÕt be slathering each other up in
the restroom during intermission, hoping your dates will give you
permission.Ó Mistress stuck out her tongue and daintily licked her hot dog.
Soon it gleamed anew with her saliva. Having gotten the condom packet
open, she placed the open end of the rubber over the tip of the dog and
began unrolling it. The boys watched, mesmerized, as the rubber slowly
encased the long dog. Finally the rubber was unrolled, leaving just a part
of the hot dog uncovered, at the bottom.
Mistress put her hand behind herself and took a small jar of vaseline
from the coffee table. IÕd not even seen it sitting there, it had been so
small and innocuous. But the boys might have seen it, and wondered at it,
for they offered to grease up the hot dog for her.
ÒNo, IÕm going to do this myself, boys, because youÕll be busy enough
soon with your own cocks,Ó mistress replied. ÒThis one is mine.Ó She
lifted the hem of her business jacket, so formal and proper, and placed the
nose of the dog directly against her cuntlips. ÒNow watch, boys. IÕm only
going to fuck myself once tonight. ItÕs not the most elegant thing for a
hostess to do at her own party, you know. Watch now, see how I can stick
the hot dog right into myself? ThatÕs because I have a vagina. Billy, can
you say vagina?Ó
ÒVagina,Ó Billy announced.
ÒThatÕs right, Billy. This is where your penis should be when it
spurts out its sperm. Not in your pants. Yours has never been in a place
like this, has it?Ó
ÒActually, when he was born, he must have come out through his
MOTHERÕS-Ó Egbert began.
ÒTch! Egbert, I had such high hopes for you,Ó mistress scolded.
ÒThatÕs not something IÕm referring to when IÕm asking whether or not
BillieÕs experienced. You boys! You really must get active and involved in
this world. Coming out of his motherÕs vagina when he was born, so that
counts as having an experienced penis...REALLY!Ó Mistress bit her lip and
slid the hotdog deeper.
ÒMmm, I still remember my first one,Ó she said, musing. ÒWhen I
was 13, Fury, just like you. He was so big, and strong, and handsome, a
part-time lifeguard at the beach. I used to tease him, never thinking,
really, what might happen. One day he simply told me to come behind the
lifeguard stand with him, pulled my panties right down in back, bent me
over, and put himself into me. I was so shocked! I didnÕt know what to do!
IÕd been eating an ice cream cone and it fell right onto my breasts, melting
on them, getting into my bra as he forced himself into me and humped me.
But he was gentle, IÕll give him that. Strong and determined but willing to
let me catch up with him, and willing to help me too, but sticking a hand
into my panties and rubbing me nicely, with his experienced fingers. HeÕd
had girls before, even though he was only 16. He knew exactly how to do a
girl so she could feel good and come when he did. Such a silly boy! He
pulled a towel over us once weÕd begun, so it wouldnÕt be so obvious what
we were doing! Just about the time we were done his boss came by, and
lifted up the towel, and looked right into my eyes! He was a hunky dude,
about 21. Instead of balling us out he ripped down my bra and cupped my
breasts and massaged them for me as I climaxed with Rod (that was his
name) up my cunt. I was really dazed when it was all over, and RodÕs boss
suspended him for two weeks for taking such a risk with me, right there
on the beach, where anyone could have seen us. Rod and me simply spent
the next two weeks in his bedroom, enjoying the extra time weÕd been
given to learn about each other, and fuck. And do you know what Rod said
when his boss got mad at him? He said, ÒSir, I know sheÕs younger than
me, but sheÕs been teasing me all summer, and a Man can only take so
much.Ó I thought that was quite a statement. Here heÕd been trying so
hard, all summer, to resist me, but IÕd finally won, and lost too, my
virginity, you know.Ó
Mistress sighed. SheÕd been moving the hot dog in and out of herself
as she talked, savoring the feeling of being fucked, enjoying the fact that
her own hand could control her pleasure. And, from the waist up, she
looked so demure! Her jacket was still neatly buttoned, fresh from the
cleaners, she might have been presiding at a business meeting, from the
looks of it, except she looked a little too happy now to be doing that!
ÒMaria, itÕs your turn,Ó mistress said finally. She hadnÕt cum or
anything, just enjoyed having something long and firm inside herself for a
few minutes. Poor Maria, though! Her cheeks were still bulging from the
wad of kleenex, and now she was being given a used hot dog dildo to fuck
herself with. ÒYou wontÕ have to lick it, unless you want to,Ó mistress
advised her. ÒItÕs nice and wet.Ó
Maria took the hot dog, contemplated it a moment, and finally opened
her flower-soft cunt lips and inserted its slickness into her. As she
continued dutifully chewing on the kleenex she began to fuck herself with
the hotdog. Mistress, meanwhile, told the boys to take off their pants and
put on condoms so they would be ready when the opportunity came to prove
themselves upon us. Quickly the boys complied. They began hollaring with
joy, and mistress had to tell them to shut up or theyÕd find themselves
pantless and out the front door. ÒYouÕll have to hitch a ride home along the
roadside, hoping some gay truck driver will pick you up,Ó mistress said. I
realized that the boys must have come in a cab, and theyÕd need to call one
to get home. They didnÕt even have cars! What nerds! Did they ride their
bicycles to computer class each day? I guessed they must. And I
wondered if their bikes still had training wheels on them. ÔFour wheels
are safer than two,Õ I could just hear one of them assuring me.
Six fine cocks soon presented themselves, which proved mistress
must have ÔvettedÕ substantially more boys before selecting these six. I
guess she didnÕt want to be too cruel to us. At least we could pride
ourselves on being taken by proper cocks, not ones that were too little, or
had warts or moles on them, or something.
ÒSix virgin cocks! My, my,Ó Sara exclaimed. She felt a little special
seeing them, as I did. Certainly we would never have wanted to ÔvetÕ a
bunch of boys to find the few virgins who had good cocks, but mistress had
done all that for us. We had simply to receive. Mistress, though, wasnÕt
done with her lecturing.
ÒBoys, lets go over a few other items before you get your reward
tonight for being so good,Ó mistress announced. ÒThese here now, that IÕve
just taken out of this little box...did you think there was more food in this
box, tubby? No, these are not edible. These harnesses with red balls on
them are called ball gags. Girls, would you each please put one on? I want
the boys to feel theyÕre totally in control tonight. Maybe it will help them
get over their fear of girls.Ó She passed the ball gags to us and, very
reluctantly, we buckled each other into them. It took a few minutes to get
it done. The boys watched, visibly fascinated. I could see they wanted to
rub their cocks as they watched. They were probably used to masturbating
whenever they became aroused, and it must have been very hard for them
to wait.
We sat at last before them, like pretty slaves, our faces harnessed
and ball gags inserted between our lips, forcing them open, making us
unable to talk. I wondered how Wellesley College would address the issue
of getting permission from a girl who was gagged. It would be difficult,
wouldnÕt it? What if I decided to say ÔnoÕ now? Perhaps Wellesley would
consider addressing this, especially for the girl who was not only gagged,
but bound as IÕd been the previous day, over a trestle, with my hair falling
down over my face and my legs spread wide open behind me. Ah, well. I
had many years to go before I was big enough for college. But IÕd be sure
to ask, when I got there. IÕd speak up in the ÔGender Sensitivity Training
ClassÕ and say, ÒExcuse me, please, but when I was 13 I was bent over a
trestle, gagged, and shielded by my hair from even being seen, with my ass
propped high and my cunt yanked open, and I was speculating, you know,
what if I changed my mind halfway through? How would I tell the gang of
pirates that was fucking me on the high seas that I was bored with being a
kidnapped love slave and raped every day, and wanted to go home?Õ
ÔOh, well!Õ the woman would answer. ÔOf course the pirates would
free you at once, and go back to studying philosophy, and just as soon as
they got through raping and plundering theyÕd let you off at the nearest
port, and bid you ÔGood day,Õ and remind you to save your Oceans Ahoy
Frequent Rape Victim Miles in case you wanted to sail with them again.Õ
Yes, thatÕs how it would be.
ÒGirls, would you please show your cunts?Ó mistress asked us.
Gagged, wide-eyed, we complied. What else could we do? We opened our
thighs, pushed up our shifts a little (as needed), and spread ourselves with
our fingers.
ÒStudy them, boys,Ó mistress said. ÒThose are real cunts, not photos
in Penthouse. ArenÕt they cute? Get close to them, look at them closely,
find the clit of each girl with your tongue. Take turns, boys, I want each
of you to examine each girl. WeÕll fuck in a little while. Right now weÕre
still learning.Ó
I leaned back, still dutifully holding myself open, as Tubby came
close and began his inspection of me. As his fingers took over from my
own, parting me himself, mistress appeared beside me and urged me to lie
back on the rug.
ÒYou might as well enjoy it, dears,Ó she said, addressing all of us.
ÒThese boys are going to make you swoon, because each of them is going to
have to find your special spot with his tongue and pleasure it for you a
little, so I know heÕs found it. Just lie back on the rug and enjoy it, as a
certain Texas Republican once said. ThereÕs nothing you can do anyway to
prevent it.Ó Realizing that we might cry out and, if ungagged, our sighs of
bliss would be the first the boys had ever heard (in real life, I mean, not
T.V.), mistress reluctantly decided to unbuckle our ball gags. With expert
fingers she lifted each of our heads up and freed our mouths. I gasped,
enjoying my oral freedom. It was nice to be able to wiggle my tongue
around again, and close my lips. Billy, meanwhile, was busy discovering
how to imprison his own tongue in my muffin.
I lay on the rug looking at the ceiling for a little bit, feeling TubbyÕs
tongue as it wormed into my most private place. I turned my head, saw
Barbi lying beside me. We shared a consoling kiss. This was what our
master wanted. We were pleasing him, I told myself, not these stupid
nerds whoÕd never seen a girl before.
ÒThatÕs good, boys,Ó mistress said encouragingly at our feet, urging
on her charges. A bit later, after Barbi and I had gasped into each otherÕs
mouths, sharing our passion, sheÕd had them switch, Egbert taking TubbyÕs
place, while Tubby himself wound up with Maria, and Billy with Sara, who
seemed the least offended by it all, happy to provide feminine comforts to
boys whoÕd never had any.
Mistress, never one to miss a chance for increased depravity, rose
and warmed more hotdogs on the grill while the boys continued exploring
us with their tongues. When the hotdogs were nice and warm, but not too
hot, she encased each one in its own condom, and greased it with a bit of
vaseline. Then she made us girls roll over on our tummies and, to our
dismay, lift up our shifts in back.
The boys exclaimed when they saw our damaged tushies. The marks
seemed to excite some deep primal male interest in them. They were the
marks other men had ordered, mistress explained, our real owners, who
wished to let the boys know that even though they might enjoy us, we did
not belong to them. We each belonged already to a lovemaster, and he was
merely loaning us to these nerdy boys for his own. ÒThese are slaves,
boys, not mere whores. Did you know that youÕre being watched? Yes,
there are men looking right now at your naked cocks, laughing at them,
perhaps. But you canÕt bear to leave now, can you? Despite how silly you
must look to the experienced masters of these girls. Alright, boys. HereÕs
a hot dog for each of you. I want you to stick these hot dogs into each
girlÕs butthole. Do it gently, especially for Fury here, because sheÕs new
and had never been buttfucked before. As you can see, her master is still
afraid to mark her, for her bottom is white, no? She is so young and
beautiful, I had to actually FORCE him to violate her yesterday. He fears
such innocence, yet she is old enough for love, donÕt you think? Look at
that cute little ass she has! Must we wait until she is 30 and her ass is as
wide as a house before we fuck it? No, no! (Just kidding, Fury!) ThatÕs it,
spread her cheeks open, Billy, pop that hot dog right into her tiny hole. But
hold on to the end of it! If you lose that hot dog in her IÕm going to make
you pull it out with your teeth, and send you home with shit on your nose
and an ass that looks like MariaÕs here, WITHOUT your pants.Ó
I felt myself opened in back. Billy, his fingers trembling with his
need, his long cock bumping the back of my thigh, spread my springy
cheeks open, found my hole, and carefully nosed the hot dog inside me, a
little at first, then a little more.
Oh, such a feeling! It felt like somebody was trying to plug up my
butt with a champagne cork! I was reminded of my experience with
master, but this dog had no big plum-sized cockhead on the end of it.
Mistress supervised, and under her guidance, with Barbi giggling beside me
even as her own hole was violated, I felt the long dog burrow into me and
devirginate me. Up, up, up it went, making me think all the air was being
driven from my lungs. I whooshed out my breath, heard Barbi whoosh out
her own as a dog was thrust up her tushy. Hers went quicker than mine. I
was still new, sheÕd done this before, knew how to relax herself, let what
must happen proceed.
The boys got their edible cocks up us and, under mistressÕ guidance,
began pumping us with them. I wished I had a pillow to cling to. I clawed
the carpet with my nails, wishing I could get the thing out of me, wishing
IÕd been a pig and insisted on eating up all the hotdogs before mistress
could think of such a ruthless scheme. But sheÕd already planned it this
afternoon, I thought. What other crimes did she know to commit on a
young girl like me? Alas, alas! She couldnÕt even feel pity for me, I
guessed, for sheÕd been raped at 13 by her best boyfriend and had learned
to love it.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and thought of master. He was the
reason I was doing this. IÕd left mom and dad, come here, just for him. I
pretended I was on my bed at home, with my teddy bear, and found myself
wishing still for him, and knowing that what must be done must, however
agonizingly, be endured. At least if he was here watching me he was out
of the way of my father! A vision of my master, all bloody and dead,
flitted through my mind. Yes, if this is what it took to keep him safe, then
I must do it, however horrible it obviously was. In and out and in again the
hot dog dildo went, Tubby quite pleased with himself now, feeling quite
experienced and quite like a man. At last mistress let him withdraw the
shit covered dildo and she had the boys deposit them into a wastebasket.
Then, as the boys washed their hands in a little restroom, we girls came
to our senses and managed to roll over so that our fannies were once again
under us, where they belonged.
ÒLift up your shifts, girls,Ó mistress said, returning with her
troopers. ÒLet the boys see and get hold of your breasts. Let them see
your tummies, where youÕd bear babies for them if I didnÕt make them
wear condoms. Boys, this is it! Girls, bend your knees nicely now, let the
boys get right between your thighs!Ó I gasped as Tubby came hovering over
me, his sausage thick cock looking like a knockwurst in search of a
squeezing bun. He got down atop me like some dog, panting, and the next
thing I knew he was entering me. I felt tears stain my eyes. I did not
want this! His big stomach rolled atop my own, feeling heavier by the
minute. And then, before heÕd really gotten into me, I yelled loudly in my
ear and ejaculated. They all did, I think, losing themselves before they
ever made it up to the promised land, into our wombs where our
unfertilized eggs lay waiting.
Mistress made them get up then, right away. There was no use
having them exchange post-coital small talk with us. They were just
unromantic nerds, and thereÕd been no real copulation. I lay gazing up at
them, pitying them, hating them, then turned my face to BarbiÕs. Our eyes
met and we edged closer and kissed. Sara found Maria, I think, and they
kissed too. We girls lay kissing the person next to us as the boys, feeling
slightly sheepish, were hurried back into their clothes by mistress. She
ushered them to the front door, bid them goodnight, and as they exited the
house they found a taxi was already waiting for them to take them back to
their computers and their books.
ÒOhhh, are they gone?Ó I heard Maria ask.
ÒYes, Maria, which is too bad for you, because your master might
want to see you used much more ruthlessly, now that those sweet
innocent little boys are gone,Ó mistress answered.
ÒOh, when will my bottom be better?Ó Maria asked. She kicked up
her heels and clutched at the underside of her ass. Her new shoes
glittered in the rec roomÕs lights.
ÒTwo weeks at the most,Ó mistress said. ÒIF youÕre very good. If
your master doesnÕt order more. YouÕd best be on your very goodest
behavior, young lady, because if he pays me to hurt you, IÕll do it, no
questions asked. I need the money.Ó
Maria sobbed a little, pitying herself. Sara caressed her hair as we
four lay there, lovely captured birds, wondering if our masters were
watching us. Lightly I toyed with my clit, wishing for an orgasm.
Mistress came up to me and stood over me. She straddled my torso
possessively with her dangerous spiked heels, and I rolled onto my back,
breaking my nurturing kiss with Barbi, and looked up at her with innocent,
wondering eyes. I ran my fingers lightly over my smooth, flat belly, with
its almost imperceptible rise where my navel lay. In infant-fashion I put
a finger in my belly button and contemplated mistress as a child in a crib
might contemplate its mother.
ÒI do not work for free, and your master cannot pay,Ó she said to me,
her voice brusque and possessive. Amidst its feminine softness there was
a low growl, as a mother might emit when her cubs are threatened. For a
moment I thought, feeling a deep sigh of relief pass over my wobbling
breasts, that she was going to expel me from her home. After all, it was
all so new and scary. If I was to be dismissed, it would be from no fault
of my own. But instead mistress unpinned her loosely held hair, letting it
fall round her face and shoulders, and then bent down and grabbed me. She
rolled me onto my tummy as if I were a sack of potatoes. Anna alone
guessed what must happen. From the corner of my eye I saw her break
contact with Maria and rise and hurry over to the box which had held our
ball gags. From this Ôtoy box,Õ as one might call it, she plucked a hideous
thing IÕd not even contemplated before in my life! It was a long,
compassionately flexible dong, pointed at both ends with a simulated
cock-head, flange and all. Fright seized me. Right in the middle of the
dong, there was a big donut shaped ring, ringing it, that would prevent its
entering farther, on either side. Anna bent daintily and retrieved the
vaseline, which someone had thoughtfully replaced on the coffee table lest
it be needed again; mistress, I guessed, though perhaps one of the
fastidious nerds had done it. Anna lubed both ends of the wicked dong in
the vaseline. She stuck them right into the goo, not being sexy about it,
for it seemed plenty of vaseline would be needed on that dong where it
was going.
With me on my belly, unsure, scared, mistress plopped her ass down
on my thin girlish thighs. She was heavy in her maturity, with a full round
womanÕs bottom that carried the grace and dignity of a female in full
bloom, ready to bear children and become a proper mother. Mistress
spread my ass cheeks open with her long, delicate fingers. I felt as if I
were a precious flower being opened by a bee. Anna knelt beside me and
placed a consoling finger on the small of my back, just one, as if shushing
a child who might speak in church when all must be quiet.
There was a rustling behind me. Anna helped mistress strip quickly
out of her jacket, her lovely frilly bra that had shown so sexily where the
jacket had been buttoned over her breasts, its deep vee intended to reveal
a blouse, not underwear, finally coming off too. I saw the big-cupped
brassiere land on the floor and knew the nerdsÕ final wish had come true;
mistress had lost her top, her breasts were free, but they were with us no
more. They would never enjoy the twin peaks of female flesh which now
swung heavily behind me. I glanced up, over my shoulder. It looked as if
the Rockies were about to crash down upon me. Mistress, eager to have
me, bent forward and peered over her cleavage to properly insert, with
AnnaÕs help, the double-donged dildo into her pussy. The other end was
intended for me.
ÒIÕm going to Ôpop your cherry,Õ so to speak,Ó mistress told me. ÒIÕll
be as gentle as I can. This is your masterÕs payment to me, though I have
not asked his permission and he may leap out and stop me, if heÕs
watching. But if he approves, no one will save you. Assume that he
approves, my dear, for I fear you will be devirginated in a second. She
struggled to get a good bit of the big dong up her pussy, so that she would
have a penis of her very own to fuck me with.
ÒI donÕt, I donÕt--Ó I babbled. I could feel as AnnaÕs fingers joined
mistressÕ upon my derriere, the penis now firmly ensconced in mistressÕ
twat.
ÒAll girls must do this someday,Ó mistress told me.
Barbi, who had lain watching, now edged close to me and presented
herself teasingly to mistress by lying on her tummy as well, just like me.
She lay with her face to mine, and began licking and kissing my lips. I
think the ecstasy of what weÕd experienced already on this heady,
difficult night had made her crazy. Did she wish to be buttfucked by
mistress after me? Or did she just like the thrill of lying so close to
somebody who was going to suffer the assault? I felt my bottom vented
in behind, opened up by fingers as if I were being encouraged to fart. The
air of the room, cooling as the night deepened, despite our lust, touched
the hole of my butt, making me feel frisky even as I bit my lip and
prepared to be assaulted. I squirmed on my belly, a fish thrown up on a
dock, waiting, gasping, hoping for a reprieve but sensing IÕd get none.
The head of the dong, properly greased, presented itself to my virgin
hole. This would not be a hotdog, or a finger, going into me. This would, in
essence, be an organ, borne strangely by a female but penis-shaped just
the same, and with the same deep, penetrating feeling to it. I would be
riven with male cock. And mistress gloated over me now, her breasts
swaying, casting her long hair from her eyes so she could see clearly to
fuck me. Already I could feel her hot breath wafting with erotic heat
down upon my back, my bare bottom. There is a sensual presence a body
takes on when it is truly at the peak of sexual desire, fully stimulated, a
body on the brink of bursting forth with all the pent up passions that
linger in us daily, waiting for a chance to explode.
Like a tigress mistress bore down. I screeched. The thing was going
up me! Barbi pressed her hands to my face, squeezing my cheeks. She
pressed her lips to mine and inserted her tongue into my mouth even as the
pulverizing penis pushed fiercely into my butt.
ÒNo! No! No!Ó I blabbed, my mouth muffled. Mistress jabbed at my
butthole, unable to get in more than the knob into me, stopped by the very
virgin-ness she so desperately wanted to fill. ÒNo! Please!Ó I begged. My
cries went unanswered. They could barely be heard, so deeply did Barbi
penetrate me with her tongue, fucking me in my mouth as mistress ground
her fake cock into my heinie. She was penetrated more deeply at her end
even as my own butt suffered its assault. Together, for seeming hours, we
battled each other. Anna lent a hand by tickling up my cunny, reaching
awkwardly underneath mistressÕ bulging ass to find my clitty and please
me with her fingers.
ÒRise, move your butt,Ó mistress growled in my ear, bending low,
pressing her mighty bosoms to me and lifting me by my hips even as she
cock-fucked my tushy.
I lifted my bare ass a little, not wanting to, but scared to disobey
her, even though I knew the consequences. The dong pressed more firmly
within me. I whooshed out my breath. I was being riven like some
butterfly tacked to a board, still alive, my keeper watching with gleaming
eyes as I struggled to break free. It was not my wings that were clipped
to the board, though, but my hiney-hole, the most intimate part of me,
where nothing should ever go up, but only out. By my ass I was nailed
right to the floor, my mistress herself. I felt the burning, the itching, the
strong need to expel the intruder, and at the same time, amidst my
muffled cries of sorrow, I felt completely, totally possessed, even more
than when master fucked me. Deep in the pit of my womb I knew I was a
bottom, a girl who could not resist having her ass hole fucked as deeply
and thoroughly as her cunt. And I was only 13! How horrible to realize at
such a young age that you need something so awful, so terrible, as being
split open in back, teasing people with your peach and then being fucked by
them.
Mistress, with AnnaÕs help, fingered herself to orgasm. I came with
her, Anna helping, and I even bucked a little to please her, in the final
moments, when I knew IÕd been truly opened and could not be injured by
moving my backside up and down, like a stallion trying to discharge a
rider, yet hoping somehow to heÕd be broken. He would be a fine, princely
horse, bearing his king when broken, and I would be a delicate young lady,
teasing, and being fucked. It was just that simple. Mistress rode me til
her pleasure was spent. Then she dismounted from my butt, leaving the
dong in me, easing herself off her end so that, trophy-like, the dong would
remain firmly in my ass where it could be seen and admired by all. The
girls all kissed me, whispered consolations, ran their fingers down my
spine, caressed my hips, and lovingly fingered the long fat penis that
stuck up from my wide-open hole. I wept softly. I was overcome with
female emotions, a little miss riven and split, her pretty bottom on
display, all naked and popped apart. My bosoms bulged beneath me. I slept
on them as one might sleep on pillows, loving the feel of the cushiony
softness beneath me. They were so new! A year ago IÕd had just little
breast buds, now these large fat bosoms had grown from my chest and
found me, ultimately, where I was now, loved by men and admired by
women, a child no more.
From behind the screens they had hidden, the walls, the secret
compartments, our men appeared. I expected attention as I lay teary-eyed
upon the floor, but I was ignored. The girls got up and put on some music.
There was dancing. I do not know how long it lasted. I stuck my thumb in
my mouth and lay shivering upon the floor, my bottom still presenting its
penis-trophy. Food was brought and they ate and partied and fucked like
animals. There was much gaiety and laughter. I wiggled my ass now and
then, hoping to remind them of my predicament. In between bouts of self-
pity I daydreamed, seeing lumberjacks hacking down trees, carrying them
with much sweating and huffing and puffing, and at last finding me lying
on the beach and drilling them into me.
Sometime in the night, still sobbing softly to myself, utterly unable
to get the penis out of my butt, I was picked up and carried to bed. Gently,
slowly, as I lay suffering upon the clean, soft sheets, a maid with tender
fingers removed the penis from my heinie. The party was still going on,
she had been called in specially to take care of me. I was bathed right
there on the bed, sponge-bathed, so to keep at least part of my big bed dry.
She squirted water from the sponge into my hole. I felt comforted. She
told me I was okay, there was no damage. I had experienced nothing more
than one does when one has a really, really big turd in oneÕs butt, or
constipation. I had not, in fact, been Òbled,Ó and I whispered a prayer of
thanks to mistress, silently, for she might have done whatever she
pleased with me, but instead she showed consideration for my newness,
for my (now lost) virginity.
In the morning mistress came to my bedside. She turned down my
sheets, finding me lying on my back, with my hands placed under my
bottom, protectively. Smiling, she woke me up and rolled me over. She
inspected my asshole.
ÒGood, good, I did not hurt you,Ó she said. ÒPerhaps you are a little
wider now, perhaps not. But there is no harm, and that is important, for I
want you to relish this form of entry. The rear hole is as important as the
front hole, in my opinion. But you will make your own choices as to that
as time goes by. My only job was to make it POSSIBLE, by introducing you
fully and completely to that option, or a fully as I could, given that IÕm a
girl, just like you.Ó She stroked my shuddering heinie cheeks. I lay with
my hands under my pussy, hoping she would go away, yet loving all the
attention she was giving me. Pity that it was given because IÕd been
forced to surrender my ass the night before. Yet, in truth, nobody gives
you as much attention as when theyÕre involved with you sexually, I think.
Not teachers, or parents, or even priests. (Well, sometimes maybe, if
youÕre a choir boy.) Sexually, though, you must open yourself up to be part
of it. Feelings of inhibition must be overcome, and clothes must come off.
At last there must be The Entry, if the experience is to be truly fulfilling.
One must enter, and the other, me being a girl, must submit to the entry.
So I had done as I must, as nature intended. It was not my fault, though I
dearly wanted to feel guilty, I donÕt know why. Mistress rolled me onto
my back again and gazed at me with loving, motherly eyes.
ÒYour master is giving you your own apartment,Ó she said. ÒFor you
to live in by yourself. He says you deserve it. He must be away for
awhile, and wishes for you to experience life on your own.Ó
ÒI-Ó I began. She placed a finger to my lips.
ÒDo not protest,Ó she said. She fiddled with the rawhide collar
around my neck. ÒMerely accept. You are still his slave. You might run
away, of course, abandon the apartment, but I know you wonÕt. YouÕll be a
good girl and wait for him to come back to you.Ó She bent low, kissed my
cheeks. ÒAnd have fun in the meantime, I hope! ItÕs up to you.Ó She tugged
at my bit of rawhide that ringed my neck, seemed to contemplate cutting
it off me. ÒYouÕve earned a leather collar,Ó she said at last. ÒBut you look
so darling in this! So new, so fresh. Just a little piece of rawhide, like a
puppy would wear, before her master has gotten to the store to buy her a
proper leash and collar. Keep it on for me. Where it wherever you go. I
like you in it, and IÕd like to think you wore it just for me.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I smiled. I felt loved. Not by my mother, or even in the way
my dad loved me, by making me behave and do my homework and
complimenting my dress sometimes. I felt loved on my own terms, as a
young woman, by a woman who understood where I was in life, and what I
was feeling. She bent down and we kissed, right on the lips. She offered
me her tongue and I accepted it. Her fingers stole to my pussy. I opened
my thighs, not minding. She tickled me there. I giggled into her mouth. I
slipped my hand over the sheets until IÕd come to her thighs. I crept my
fingertips up to their juncture, I repaid her with a tickling of my own.
Together, after many long, loving minutes, the sun warming my bedroom,
we came at last.
ÒI shall call the maid to change the sheets,Ó mistress said when at
last our kissing and touching was done. She fixed her hair in the mirror
and I lay upon the bed, quite nude, watching her, letting the sun bathe my
body as it shone through the white curtains of my bedroom. At last I got
up too, for this room was but borrowed by me, for my enjoyment, and I
wished to go now. I wanted to be on my own. By noon I was walking
briskly out the front door, a bright new dress on, a parasol propped on my
shoulder to keep the hot South American sun off me. In fresh booties made
specially for walking, I travelled out to the roadside and waited for a cab.
Mistress had called one. I wished to greet it away from the house. I knew
if I waited indoors I would want my master back, or to stay with
mistress, or perhaps to take up lodging somewhere with the other girls,
especially my new friend Barbi. I had a phone number for her if I needed to
reach her, at least. Of that IÕd made sure. And I had mistressÕ number too.
Yet I knew IÕd want to stay with SOMEBODY if I didnÕt leave the house on
my own. When the cab arrived I did not turn back, or wave, though I knew
they were watching me. I slipped into the back of the cab, not making the
driver get out and open the door for me.
ÒWhere to?Ó he asked.
ÒWherever I please,Ó I answered. I felt very adult-like. At last I
gave him an address. It was my own apartment! I felt very special as the
cab whisked me away, although my bottom was still a little sore from
last night and I leaned my weight a little to the side to give it relief. We
passed into the trees, roadside apple trees, their fruit not perhaps quite
as pretty as mistressÕ but still edible, succulent, just coming into full
ripeness. I told the cabbie to stop and I opened my window and reached
out and, stretching, just barely managed to catch hold of a big, balls-ripe
apple and pluck it from the tree. It had rained a little this morning, just
as the sun came up, liquid sunshine that had specially washed this apple,
just for me. I bit into it. There was a tangy freshness. I felt suddenly as
if God himself had given me this apple.
ÒIs it good?Ó the cabbie asked.
I nodded, silent, took another bite. ÒWould you like me to get you
one? I think I see one more,Ó I offered. I always tried to be generous.
ÒIf I let you, and took it, I would not stop just there,Ó he replied.
His eyes were modest. He spoke truthfully, not sportingly. He was a
humble man, unshaved, fortyish, with a ParisianÕs cap on his head and a
slowly burning cigarette in his mouth.
ÒThen I shall have to deny you, mon sewer,Ó I said, garbling my
French as I tried to reply to him as elegantly as heÕd addressed me.
ÒSo let it be,Ó he said. He smiled. He enjoyed having me as his fare.
We drove back to Montevideo, and not once did I think of my master, or how
he might die at the hands of my father. I felt released from him, as if heÕd
used me fully and IÕd pleased him, and now heÕd rewarded me with a yearÕs
lease on an apartment, and my very own bank account, while he
straightened out his affairs. Yes, let him get his business back together
while I explored life on my own. I could not help him with that. It was a
manÕs job. He must do his work sometime, and I would let him. Goodbye,
master. I turned, blew a kiss at the place where mistressÕ mansion must
lay, somewhere behind us in the apple trees. Then I turned and regarded
the view before me, a new girl, a woman, a freed love slave. Yes! How
strange and wonderful it sounded. A freed love slave. Not a runaway
slave, but a slave whoÕd accepted her servitude, and earned her freedom
with her body, like a love slave should. My eyes took in the lovely hills
and valleys as we travelled, the sheep in the pastures, the cows with their
big heavy udders and bells. Horses, geese. All this I admired as we passed
through the countryside on my way to my new home.
30
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-END OF story EMISSION