--------------------------------------------------------------- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in PUPPY LOVE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter One I sat in the office pool typing. With some annoyance I found that I had mispelt some words in a letter for my boss. The spell checker was bombing my writing program on my computer, so IÕd dismissed it. Now I felt like dismissing the entire letter. I reached for the paperback dictionary beside my desk. Flipping through it, I reflected on my life. Why hadnÕt I made contact with Helga on my return to Buenos Aires? I guess I was just young and rebellious. And I was pissed at Kimberly too, for getting me into my whole misadventure. Still, I found myself feeling a little homesick all of a sudden. I looked up. I gazed at the huge pane glass window that fronted our office. It was raining outside. People hurried along the sidewalk. The wind blew at their clothes. Water streamed down the outside of the glass, blurring everything a little, making it seem like another world. I shifted in my chair. I glanced at the other girls. Did they suddenly feel restless, like me? IÕd been content with my little job for two months now. I made a lot more than any of the rest of them did, though only my boss knew that. It was because of my special service that IÕd performed for the Argentinean government, in London. There were beginning to be intimations, though, from above, that I needed to Òput outÓ more. Not on the job, of course. After hours. Argentina is not known for having the most perfect government. I felt ambivalent. I tugged at the hem of my miniskirt. And then, suddenly, I decided. Yes, I was safe and dry here, warm, comfortable. Yes, I had a nice desk. But it was boring. They made me work every day, eight hours. Home every night, back every morning. I pushed back my chair. I got up. I tugged on the hem of my miniskirt. I picked up my little purse off the back of my chair, and slung it over my shoulder. And then, without a sideways glance, without looking back, I walked out. The rain hit me in the face. It was warm. I tossed my head, didnÕt mind, didnÕt hurry like the other people on the walk. I felt the wind whip past and lift my skirt. I smiled. I pulled down the front of my skirt, but the back flew up with the wind, showing off my pantied bottom. I ran then, hurrying just like the others, trying not to slip on my five-inch heels. I arrived at the safety of a bus stop wet and dripping. I waited a moment, hoping I looked no worse no sillier, than the other pedestrians who had crowded inside. Then, seeing the rain abate a bit, I stepped back out onto the walk. I rounded the corner of our office building. It was a huge building, a block long. There, down the street, was my small red sports car. IÕd bought it with the money IÕd made working for the government. I dashed to it. It felt good running, my skirt flying, my bottom stopping traffic as the wind made my undies show. I fished out my keys from my purse. Reaching my car, I got it unlocked and slipped inside. I would go find Helga, I decided. And Kimberly. *** Helga sat in KimberlyÕs living room. She looked ambivalent. WeÕd reunited the day before. ThereÕd been warm hugs, kisses, tears. I was older now, she could see. I wasnÕt a little schoolgirl anymore. I was a woman like her, though still 15. IÕd kept them up late, recounting my adventures. IÕd edited my stories some, made them palatable for a motherÕs ears. ÒI want to go on assignments,Ó I said. My voice was high-pitched, insistent. ÒDarling, you are too young,Ó Helga said again, for the thousandth time. She wore neat, conservative clothes, mom clothes. She twisted her hands in her lap. She sat on the couch like a middle-aged woman, though she was barely 30. ÒIf she really wants to,Ó Kimberly offered. ÒI was 15 when I met you...Ó ÒThat was different,Ó Helga answered. ÒThe times were different then.Ó ÒThey were?Ó Kimberly asked. Her face had a kind of incredulous smile on it. ÒThey seem the same as now to me.Ó ÒWell, I was younger, more daring, more irresponsible,Ó Helga said. ÒI didnÕt care if I got some 15-year-old, some CHILD, into sexual stuff. Now I do. I understand more.Ó ÒWell, I donÕt understand,Ó I answered, rebellious. Only two days home with her and already we were fighting. ÒYou go on assignments. What do you do on them, hmmm?Ó ÒShe plays Risk,Ó Kimberly smiled. Helga blushed. She put her face in her hands. Kimberly sat uncomfortably, silently. When Helga finally raised her face her eyes were wet. ÒI-I canÕt stop you,Ó she said to me. ÒThe number is in my purse. Go get it, and call it if you wish. Then letÕs hear no more of this nonsense.Ó I hustled into the kitchen. Her purse was there, on the table. I knew she might change her mind at any moment. I opened the purse, looked inside. I rummaged around. There were hundred dollar bills inside, crumpled, as if they meant nothing. Amidst the money and other things, I found a little slip of paper. It had lipstick on it. 472-1920. That was it. No identifying information, nothing describing what it offered to connect you to. But I knew, just by looking at it. I went to the notepad on the kitchen counter and copied down the number. Then I put it in the pocket of my denim vest. I sidled back out to the living room, sat down. ÒI thought it would be hidden away somewhere,Ó I confessed. ÒI should have just gone and dug in your purse when you werenÕt looking.Ó ÒThanks for not,Ó Helga replied. ÒAnd now I want to hear nothing more of it. Call me if you get in trouble, otherwise not. And I want you to start school again, young lady.Ó ÒYes, mother,Ó I answered. ÒI have a car now, so it will be fun to drive there.Ó ÒTry not to mention why you were away,Ó she told me. She shot a glance at Kimberly. The blonde put a hand to her mouth, failed to suppress a giggle. ÒI told them you had found your father, and went to America to spend some time with him.Ó ÒMy father, Lazarus,Ó I smirked. ÒEnough!Ó Helga said. She was not angry, simply wanted to close off our current conversation. ÒLetÕs go out in a few hours, get something to eat.Ó ÒThat sounds fun,Ó I answered. Kimberly agreed. *** I woke up bright and early the next morning. I was ready. IÕd heard all the advice why I shouldnÕt, all the warnings, and now IÕd made up my mind. I kissed my teddy bear, stepped into the shower, did my makeup afterward, my nails, brushed my hair until it glowed. I put on my most daring micromini. There was no use kidding around with these people. Then I slipped into a blouse that seemed to show more of me than it hid. It left my belly bare, did little to conceal my bosoms, but constricted my throat and my arms in tight, stretchy fabric. Then I put on my shoes. They were new. IÕd bought them yesterday evening, shopping after dinner with Helga and Kimberly. I think Helga had known where I would wear them. She looked away as I strutted around the store, trying them, feeling their fit. Kimberly insisted on paying for them, and told me never to take them off, unless I was asked to. She didnÕt explain why, just said not to. I nodded. I drove myself to the agency. ThatÕs what it was called, simply Òthe agency.Ó I found the building where it was located, a tall skyscraper downtown, and parked underneath. I took my parking pass with me so they would validate it. On the elevator up to the 11th floor, I wrapped my jacket tight. The men in the car glanced at me. My jacket was as short as my mini, leaving my thighs, my legs, stretching nakedly down to my heels. I didnÕt need stockings. The women in the car were jealous of me. When I got to the 11th floor I exited quick as I could. I felt their eyes pasted on my ass as I walked with rapid steps down the hall. I buzzed the door marked ÒAgency.Ó It was a small sign, posted on the door in paper, as if temporarily, though the office had been here for years. The door unlocked, and I let myself in. A woman at a desk greeted me. I smiled. She was gorgeous. She wore a bow tie around her neck and, strikingly, a string bikini top. I could not see whether she had anything else on. Her hair, brown and glossy, was piled atop her head. She wore small, conservative earrings. ÒAre you Barbi?Ó she asked. ÒYes,Ó I replied. ÒKimberly called. She said youÕd be coming,Ó the woman answered. She seemed very nice. She handed a clipboard across her desk to me. ÒWould you please fill this out?Ó ÒSure,Ó I answered. ÒWould you like some coffee?Ó ÒOkay,Ó I said. She rose. Instinctively, childishly perhaps, I looked at her to see if she had anything else on. A bikini bottom. Of course. Perfect for the office of the 90Õs. Stepping around from behind her desk, I saw she wore long black boots, above the knee, with little gold spurs fitted onto them. The spurs seemed to bring out the blonde highlights in her auburn hair, I thought. ÒPlease donÕt mind my Ôuniform,ÕÓ she smiled, as if feeling a little silly under my stare. ÒBossÕs orders.Ó ÒMen,Ó I agreed. ÒThey can be so difficult sometimes,Ó she said, and walked away, into another room, her hiney swaying, nothing but a thong in her ass crack keeping me from seeing all. I sat down on a leather couch and filled out the form. It asked my name, my age, and other questions, rather probing ones. I contemplated them and filled some out, wondered at others. ÒJust do the best you can,Ó the woman answered, returning with two steaming cups of coffee. She sat down beside me and I queried her about a few questions. She explained them, helped me answer them. We chit- chatted a bit, mindlessly, enjoying each otherÕs company. ÒI like your dress,Ó she said after a bit. ÒDo you have panties on?Ó ÒNo,Ó I answered. ÒWould you please pull it up for me a minute? I have to do a visual inspection.Ó ÒAlright,Ó I replied. I set my clipboard aside. I bit my lip and raised my mini. ÒWould you spread your legs for me?Ó she asked. I complied. She stood, walked to her desk. She returned with a little pencil-shaped flashlight. She knelt between my legs. She opened my cuntlips and flicked on the flashlight. She peered into me. ÒYou have a nice pussy,Ó she said finally. She let go of my private lips, my softness, my most secret place. ÒSorry, but I had to check. YouÕll be using it a lot, you know, on your assignments. Would you pull down your blouse for me?Ó ÒOkay,Ó I answered. I yanked it down, felt my boobs pop out. I looked down and saw my nipples were sticking up, hard and ready. The woman put her hands to them. She palped them. She squeezed them firmly, like they were melons. Her thumbs tweaked my nipples. ÒGood,Ó she said. ÒNo breast cancer or anything, and theyÕre natural. Our customers will like that.Ó She picked up my clipboard, her clipboard now, and wrote on it. ÒWhat sort of assignment would you like?Ó she asked. She looked at me. ÒYou can pull your skirt back down,Ó she smiled. ÒOh yeah,Ó I answered. I repaired my clothing. ÒI guess, well, IÕd like an assignment...oh, something challenging.Ó I said. She grinned. ÒKimberly says youÕve spent the last two months being bored to death in an office.Ó I nodded. ÒWell, I think I might have just the thing for you,Ó she told me. *** He was an older man. ThatÕs what the woman had told me, anyway. It was late afternoon. The sun had about an hour of life left before it would sink back beneath the horizon. IÕd dressed conservatively. I assumed he had conservative tastes, given his age. I had no idea what heÕd do with me, but the woman had hinted I might be surprised. I knocked at the front door of a large home. A woman in an evening gown answered. ÒOh, you must be the young lady from the agency!Ó she smiled at me. I nodded. ÒPlease do come in, weÕve been expecting you,Ó she invited. ÒSorry IÕm a little late. I got lost driving over,Ó I grinned sheepishly. ÒYouÕre not too late, nothing that canÕt be accounted for,Ó she answered. I wondered a little at her answer, followed her into the interior of a large, lavishly decorated home. Fine art hung on the walls. Curtains of lace shrouded the large bay windows. Sumptuous furniture beckoned, but she drew me on, leading me through the house. We stepped out back. I saw a lawn, garden furniture, and other guests, all in evening clothes, the women in shimmering dresses, the men in tuxedoes. ÒHere is Barbi, from the Agency,Ó the woman called. She introduced me to the other guests. I was given a drink, sipped it. I met the host. He was close to 50. His name was Albert. He did not tell me his last name. I was permitted to chat awhile. Everyone was very pleasant, very polite, although there seemed to be a bit of tension in the air. The women were all older than me, though still quite young and pretty. The men were in their 30Õs and 40Õs. Several told me they were diplomats, from foreign countries. ÒCome, dear,Ó the woman who had greeted me at the door said finally. She drew me over to a the table with the food and punch. ÒWould you be willing to put on something a little more revealing for us?Ó she asked. I gulped. I had almost forgotten why I was here. ÒI-I guess so, I mean, of course, sure,Ó I answered. She opened her purse. She drew from it a little handful of cloth and strings. ÒYou donÕt mind being seen in a bikini, do you?Ó she asked. There was a smirk on her face, as if she were somewhat amused. I heard a woman behind me laugh. A man cleared his throat. ÒNo,Ó I answered. I stuck out a finger, poked at the bit of cloth, received it into my hands. ÒStep behind the bushes, thereÕs a trellis there, you can hang your nice dress up,Ó she told me. ÒOkay,Ó I answered. I felt childish. I took the little bikini, wandered back behind a stand of rose bushes. I could smell their perfume on the air. It was sweet. Within their enclosing protection, feeling precious, I removed my dress. I guessed theyÕd want everything off, except my shoes. And my earrings, of course. No use taking off those. I had nice hoop earrings, silver. They matched the silver accents in my heels. There was a hanger hooked into the trellis. Ivy wove along its top, along its sides, but the interior of the trellis was bare. It was as if it had been specially designed for a girl to hang her clothes up on. I untangled the bikini theyÕd given me. A miniature bra, plus teensy panties. The parts that were fabric were white and very soft, almost furry. The rest was nothing but frustrating strings. They all needed to be tied. Nothing could just be slipped on. Feeling a little frustrated, I got the bikini tied onto myself. It took several minutes. For all my effort, it hid very little. I tugged at the bra cups. They were undersized, leaving the fleshy undercurves of my breasts quite bare and unsupported. I hoped they wouldnÕt want me to do my cheerleading routines in this. As for the panties, they were so small in back I knew theyÕd dip entirely into my buttcrack the minute I started walking. In front, a little triangle of fuzzy cloth did its best to hide my pubis. It barely managed, leaving all else quite naked. I lifted my chin. I told myself to have confidence. This was my first assignment, and I didnÕt want to blow it. With a toss of my head to give myself assurance, I stepped out from behind the roses. ÒAh, how cute!Ó a woman exclaimed. There was a round of applause. I blushed, walked as straight as I could, was aware of my hips swaying nicely. My boobies were bouncing almost as freely as if they were uncontained, and I glanced down to make sure the bra still held them. It did. Albert handed me a big straw bonnet, with a ribbon and large bow of blue silk. I guessed he wanted me to put it on. I did, then spun once on my heels for him to let him admire me with it. ÒYou design the most delicious little bikinis,Ó a woman said to Albert. Ah, he was a fashion designer, I guessed. He smiled. At her, at me. ÒThe hat is my design also,Ó he replied. ÒSo it is,Ó she answered, but her eyes remained on my swimsuit. ÒItÕs best not to get this material wet,Ó Albert said to her. ÒNo, but what self-respecting girl swims at the beach anyway?Ó the woman answered. She stuck out her finger, hooked the front of my panties. She pulled them open, my bush showed. She let go and the panties snapped shut. ÒNice pull on the strings.Ó ÒYes, they have a certain elasticity to them, though not too much,Ó he replied. ÒThe bikini is mainly for show, as you said, to attract attention.Ó ÒSpeaking of which, I know a certain creature who hasnÕt gotten any attention at all this evening,Ó the woman said. Albert nodded, as if giving permission. ÒJill, please let out Popeye, its time for his weekly bath,Ó the woman called. A second woman nodded, disappeared a moment. I thought nothing more of the exchange, let someone hand me a glass of sherry and was just sipping it when a small terrier came bounding out onto the lawn. He startled me by barking at me and made a beeline for the grass between my heels. He leapt up and sniffed actively at my crotch. I nearly dropped my glass! It was so mortifying, me in a little nothing bikini, everyone else lavishly, expensively dressed, with a pooch sniffing out my pussy as if I were a bitch in heat! ÒBarbi,Ó the woman with Albert said to me, drawing my attention from the dog even as he stood and put his paws on my thighs and sniffed my cunt up close. ÒPlease take your bikini off to keep it from getting wet, and give Popeye here his bath.Ó Albert handed me a small copper bucket for bathing the dog. It was empty. He pointed to a marble-topped table nearby. ÒYou can wash him there,Ó he said. ÒPopeye expects the very best treatment.Ó What could I do? I was embarrassed, but then I couldnÕt say no, could I? I hoped theyÕd be paying me well for this. I reached down and, with a grunt, picked Popeye up in my arms, still holding the bucket. At least in my arms he wouldnÕt sniff my cunt, I figured, but the rude dog immediately began pawing my breasts. With him struggling, clutching him as best I could, I walked over to the marble table. I put him gently down on it. I didnÕt want to just drop him. His owner obviously thought the world of him. Popeye stood on his four legs atop the table, ardently sniffing at my breasts, as if I might feed him. Stepping back, remembering what Albert had said about the bikini, I reached back and reluctantly untied my top. My breasts spilled free. Popeye showed as much interest in them as did the guests. My nipples stuck out invitingly. I kept back from the table so he wouldnÕt try to take one in his mouth. Next I undid my panties. Again, I felt the eyes of the guests stare appreciatively, smugly perhaps, as I revealed myself to them, me all naked while they remained dressed to the nines. Carefully I hung my bikini up on a little iron railing that formed a fence running behind the table. It separated a part of the yard from some valuable private vineyard grapes that grew just beyond; a small collection of grapes that Albert used to create his own wines. Bucket in hand, I traipsed across the lawn to a faucet set in the outside wall of the house. I had not removed my heels. I remembered KimberlyÕs advice. I bent down, was conscious of my bottom splaying out behind me, showing all, leaving nothing to their imagination now. The guests watched me, sipping their drinks. Popeye stood on his table, his tail wagging furiously. I turned on the tap and filled my little copper bucket. Then I stood, hefted it, and returned to Popeye. He was eager to see me. I found that someone had placed a bar of Hartz flea soap on the table, already unwrapped. I did not see any gloves for my hands. I guessed I was to use my bare fingers. I tossed my hair. I brushed it from my eyes, wishing I had barrettes or something to hold it up. The dog watched me. I saw that he had an erection between his legs. ÒAlright, Popeye,Ó I said to him, feeling awkward, silly. ÒItÕs time for your bath, boy, and I want you to behave for me, okay?Ó He was a cute little critter, I had to admit. I just wished he didnÕt have his thing sticking out between his legs. I lifted him up. He poked his nose enquiringly at my stiff nipples. I stood him in the bucket. His legs separated widely. I could only get one paw in, the bucket was too small for both, with his antics. ÒCome on, boy, be good and sit in the bucket,Ó I scolded. But he would not comply. His legs remained wide, he humped his hips at me, hoping to make contact with his thing. I set him back on the table. He wagged his tail. The table was low enough that he could stand and sniff my pubic hair, and he did so with relish. I picked up the copper bucket and doused him with some of the water in it. He wagged his little tail, still entranced by my cunny. I picked up the bar of soap and began rubbing him with it. ÒAlright boy, itÕs time for your doggie bath, stand still,Ó I ordered him. I had to let him sniff at my pussy to keep from dancing about on the table. I rubbed him fast as I could, hoping to finish quickly. ÒTake your time, dear, he likes lots of loving tenderness,Ó the woman with albert admonished me. I glanced over my shoulder at her. ÒAlright,Ó I answered. I rubbed more slowly. Popeye seemed to grin up at me, pleased with my handling of him. His erection remained quite noticeable. I scrubbed away. Popeye wriggled from my grasp occasionally, making me dash about the table to recapture him. Thankfully, he did not jump down to the lawn. I worked my fingers deep into his fur and bent once to rub noses with him, just to keep him from acting up on me. Finally I rolled him over, and doused him again, then set to work on his ribs and tummy. He seemed to like this best. He let his legs lie open and didnÕt fight me as I massaged him generously all over, avoiding only his cock. ÒDo his balls too, please,Ó AlbertÕs woman told me, seeing I was missing his thing. ÒAnd his penis. DonÕt mind that itÕs out. Just rub along it like you would a manÕs. You have washed a manÕs organ before, havenÕt you?Ó ÒUh, ummm, yeah,Ó I answered, not sure actually, just trying to comply. I felt awful, my ass sticking out as I bent over the table, my breasts dangling down, full and heavy. Popeye brushed them with his tongue. ÒDown boy,Ó I said, though he was already on his back. I rubbed his genitals then, and he wriggled blissfully. He lapped at my breasts. He ejaculated into my hands. ÒEwww, yuck!Ó I cried, standing up quickly. ÒIf your hands werenÕt soapy IÕd make you lick them clean,Ó AlbertÕs woman told me. ÒHeÕs our favorite dog, and youÕre only here for the night.Ó ÒYes, maÕam,Ó I replied. God! Eat a dogÕs sperm?! I wanted to run from the yard right then, but realized I had no clothes on at the moment. A slight deterrence, to be sure. I picked up the bucket and poured its remaining contents onto Popeye, cleansing his genitals. I was going to go get more water when AlbertÕs woman came up behind me and tapped me lightly in the small of my back. ÒKneel up on the table,Ó she said. I turned my head, my hair flying in a whirl of surprise. ÒWhat?!Ó I asked. There was a look of shock on my face. ÒKneel up on the table, doggie-style,Ó she said again. ÒBut, heÕs...Ó I looked at Popeye. He was on his feet again, all fours, looking eager and wagging his tail. I saw that his little ejaculation a moment ago had done nothing to dim the ardor of his cock. I heard a brief whistle, felt a sudden sting burn itself into my bottom. I stiffened. The woman had a riding crop! ÒON the table,Ó she said again. I complied. Fearful, surrounded by my former friends at the party (or so IÕd imagined them, though weÕd exchanged only first names), I got on the table. I felt the cold, uncompromising marble under my hands. Someone moved the bucket away and put a small pillow for me on the table. Sensing I must, I lowered my face to it. I grabbed the corners of the pillow with my sperm-sticky fingers. ÒOh no, please donÕt,Ó I begged. The woman pressed upon my back, making my bottom bulb more, offering it to the dog. Happily he sniffed at my cunt, able to enjoy it directly now, in its most advantageous position. The woman placed her palms on the insides of my thighs, pushing the dog aside a moment, and prepared me for him, opening my legs nice and wide. ÒWe would never fuck you, darling, but you are good enough for our dog,Ó she teased. I was humiliated beyond my wildest imaginings. I shuddered, I begged for them not to do it. I gazed into the eyes of the guests, so recently my equals, or so it seemed, and they stared back, uncaring. Uncaring but deeply, profoundly amused. Popeye got up on his hind legs. Several women giggled. He presented himself. ÒNo, GOD!Ó I begged. I felt his awful thing nudge my cunt. And then it pushed within. ÒAaaack!Ó I cried. I wanted to leap up, but a woman had gripped me by the back of my neck, and held my face pressed down. Behind me I heard AlbertÕs woman swishing her crop menacingly. I knew the punishment would be severe, worse than IÕd ever had, if I denied her doggie his after-bath treat. Trembling uncontrollably, I felt him thrust inside. He had a small thing, it didnÕt go very deep. He pressed close, mounting me proudly. I felt his paws pressing down on my rump. Vigorously he began spearing me. ÒNo! No! No! Oooooh, God!Ó I cried suddenly, and popped my thumb in my mouth. I tasted his cum. It revolted me, but I was more terrified my his thing in my cunt. In a few moments I felt him spurting. And then, after a few more strokes, he got down again. I leapt up. I dropped to the grass and went running into the house. I ran to where I thought the kitchen might be, found it, and furiously I rinsed out my mouth. AlbertÕs woman found me there. ÒCome upstairs, I will bathe you,Ó she said to me. She spoke nonchalantly. She still held her crop. I rose from the sink and followed her, feeling utterly, totally abject and despondent. *** My bath was long and loving. AlbertÕs woman, telling me IÕd done very well in the yard, introduced herself as Elspeth. A strange, uncommon name, I felt, for a strange, uncommon woman. The suds of the bath got on her. She knelt outside the tub, insisted on washing me with her own hands. With no washcloth. Just her fingers, long, expert, playing over my tummy, my breasts, delighting in the stiffness of my nipples. She douched me too, an intimate experience. I felt tender, vulnerable. She kissed me when she was done. Elspeth got me out of the bath and dried me with a rough towel. She brushed my hair. Then, walking me to the medicine cabinet, she opened it. I saw a dogÕs collar lying there. It was black with little silver studs. She made me stand still while she buckled it around my neck. ÒCome, time for bed,Ó she said. She took me into the next room. Someone had undone the bed while we were in the bathroom. The sheets looked cool, inviting. She picked up the bedÕs pillow and fluffed it. She told me to put my heels back on. They were standing by the bedside, new and fresh, cleaned up after my adventure in the yard. Someone had taken care of them for me. I put them on, sat on the edge of the bed and buckled myself into them. ÒYou have another canine friend whoÕd like to meet you,Ó Elspeth said to me. I started, looked up. A big dog came bounding into the room. My legs were spread slightly and he sniffed at them. I patted his head, not knowing what else to do. Elspeth hovered over me. She had her crop again. She held it twixt her fingers like some valuable, which no doubt it was, for otherwise I would have fled from the room at once. ÒPlease get in bed,Ó Elspeth told me. ÒAnd donÕt deny yourself to Rover, here. You two will be spending the night together.Ó I looked up at her. There was no possibility of a change of heart, I could see. Two guests entered the room, both male, big strapping fellows. I looked at them. They saw my resistance. ÒGet in,Ó one of the men ordered me. I stood. I turned and crawled into bed. Rover jumped up on the bed beside me. I put my arms around him to try to settle him. I lay back. Licking my face, he got himself on top of me. I kept my thighs pressed tightly together, lest he should get any ideas. ÒWhat do you think, gentlemen? Is she a fair mount for him?Ó Elspeth asked the two men. ÒGood enough,Ó one of them answered, infuriating me. Rover lapped my nose, oblivious to their presence. ÒLetÕs let them enjoy each otherÕs company awhile,Ó Elspeth said. ÒTake out your cocks, men, and IÕll rub them a little for you.Ó I glanced over at her. Rover licked my nose, tried to get his belly as firmly against mine as he could. I felt a pressure upon my pubis, a probing. ÒWhen youÕre ready, darling,Ó Elspeth said to me. ÒI enjoy playing with a dog all night before I let him mount me, but you may be more eager. Get up on your hands and knees when you feel the moment has arrived. I like seeing a girl getting it from behind.Ó I returned my gaze to Rover. He licked me ardently. His tongue tickled my nose. I giggled, despite myself. The men got out their cocks. I looked, cursing myself. They were big. Elspeth seated herself on a chair between them and, with them standing on either side of her, she began frigging them. After a bit the men were groaning. Drinks were brought by a maid and Elspeth ceased her ministrations so that the men could enjoy a breather. I was allowed to get up too, and I sat on the edge of the bed, sipping Sherry. The men drank standing up. ÒIs it not wonderful?Ó Elspeth asked me, honestly, as Rover helped himself to a tongue-lapping drink from my glass. ÒRover!Ó I shouted. I whacked his nose with my hand. ÒDonÕt be mean to him, darling, or IÕll flay that lovely hiney of yours,Ó Elspeth warned me. ÒYou donÕt really expect me to let a big dog like this fuck me?Ó I asked. ÒEither that or the crop,Ó she answered. ÒHow many strokes?Ó I asked. Absently I raised my glass to my lips and sipped, then spit it back out, realizing IÕd drunk from the same glass as a dog. ÒI must be in a forgiving mood,Ó Elspeth said, considering. ÒThirty strokes, all well-delivered, no easy ones. What do you say?Ó I sat balancing my glass, wondering if I might steal away for a bath before she got underway. ÒAnything would be better than getting fucked by this dog,Ó I answered at last. It seemed strange, bartering for my bottom. Did I wish a dogÕs cock up it, or a crop across it? Neither seemed very pleasant to me.Ó ÒYouÕre being paid, darling,Ó Elspeth said to me. ÒI intend to amuse myself with you, and thatÕs all there is to it. You didnÕt come here for a slumber party, you know.Ó ÒAlright,Ó I said at last, feeling a strange, grown-up feeling. ÒBut not TOO hard.Ó ÒJust for that IÕll give the last three extra hard,Ó she replied. I stood. I set my glass in the bed, precariously, the covers holding it in an impromptu arrangement of curves and bulges. Rover and I had quite distinctly messed the bed up, with his antics and my resistance. ÒMay I take a bath first?Ó I asked. ÒHeÕs been licking me all over.Ó I felt his tongue lave up the crack of my hiney and batted it away. ÒYou may do whatever you like first,Ó she answered. ÒBut you wonÕt get paid any more for staying longer, however long you dawdle about.Ó ÒA quick one, then,Ó I answered. I hurried into the bathroom, got the water on, stepped in. I felt free in the shower. I let the steam engulf me, felt the water cleanse me all over, thankfully. EspethÕs two gentlemen friends stepped into the bathroom to monitor me. ÒDonÕt play with yourself,Ó one warned me. He drew back the shower curtain to make sure I complied. They watched me soap myself. I liked being watched. They could not fuck me. They were achingly, drippingly hard. But they could only look at me. And they could not play with themselves, either. Their cocks were reserved for ElspethÕs fingers. They were, in their own way, as much her slaves as I was. I wondered if they might liberate me, kidnap me and steal away with me. But they did not. They seemed to enjoy their slavery. I was probably just one of many young girls they got to enjoy in their slavery to Elspeth. They obeyed her in every respect, and she fed them cunts in return. Young cunts, like mine. When I was done they dried me. Then they took me back out to the bedroom. The dog was gone. The sheets had been changed. Elspeth, wearing a long, flowing black gown, with a high collar, waited by the bed. She lifted her hand, took mine, helped me into it. ÒOn your knees, dear,Ó Elspeth told me. ÒThis bed isnÕt for sleeping in, not tonight, not for you. It is merely a platform, hopefully a comfortable one. I see no need to discomfit you, save where it is intended. You may rest your pretty head on this pillow. Your knees may push into the softness of the mattress. Only your bottom is to suffer.Ó ÒBut why, oh why?Ó I asked. ÒBecause I want to see such young, beautiful flesh respond totally to me,Ó she replied. ÒIt is a matter of domination, of control. You will weep, you will cry, you will beg. But there will be no diminishment of your punishment. When I am done the men will fuck you. One in your cunt, and one up your ass. Then you will be dismissed from the premises.Ó ÒOh, no,Ó I sobbed. ÒPlease.Ó Even as I spoke, I was already on my knees, that was how much persuasive power she had over me, standing there with her crop in her hand, gazing at me with fiery eyes. The men got hold of my wrists and bound them into restraints at the headboard of the bed. ÒOpen the window,Ó Elspeth ordered. ÒI want the neighbors to hear her screams. And all my guests, they will enjoy them, as they while the night away, playing bedroom games of their own. Women will shiver in the arms of their men, hearing little BarbiÕs shouts and pleadings. No one will come. I am well-connected.Ó One of the men sauntered over to the window and thrust up the sash. The evening air blew in, cool and fresh. I felt its chilliness upon my bare tushy. ÒAre you ready?Ó Elspeth asked me. ÒOh, this is so humiliating!Ó I cried. My eyes were panic-stricken. To be heard, as it happened! To be laughed at, ridiculed. Tears were already streaming down my face. ÒI will give you one more humiliation,Ó Elspeth said to me. ÒI will not begin until you tell me to.Ó ÒOh, God!Ó I sighed. Then I drew in my breath. ÒHELP!Ó I cried. ÒHELP! HELP!Ó ÒThree more strokes will be added for that,Ó she replied calmly. ÒBut if you wish to yell until youÕre hoarse, thatÕs your affair.Ó I squeezed my eyes shut tight. ÒYou are a bitch,Ó I moaned. ÒI know,Ó she tittered. ÒGirls tell me that all the time. It does not spare their bottoms, though.Ó ÒDo it. Get it over with,Ó I gritted through my teeth. ÒYou must say, ÔPlease mistress, spank my bottom.ÕÓ She replied suavely. ÒNo,Ó I answered. I gazed at her hot-faced. It was a test of wills. ÒYou wish to be a slave,Ó she said. ÒI can see it in your eyes.Ó ÒNo! No I do not!Ó I cried out, sure of every word. ÒSome girls do, some donÕt,Ó she answered. ÒBut you do.Ó I shook my head ÔnoÕ as vigorously as I could. ÒYou are in luck,Ó she said. ÒI have a guest, he watched you from his room, in the garden. But if I spare you, if I give you to him, you will be his slave forever.Ó ÒSpare me, then,Ó I replied. ÒYou didnÕt join the agency for the money, did you?Ó she asked. ÒYou wanted to submit. You wanted to find a master to love you, and care for you, and give you your liberty, but always within the confines, the perimeters, he might select. IsnÕt it true?Ó Again I shook my head Ôno.Õ ÒRonald, go get Lord Shaftsbury,Ó Elspeth said. There was a wicked twinkle in her eye. Immediately Ronald left, naked, his cock waggling out in front of him, hoping for pussy. The sooner my fate was concluded, he would have some, from some female, I guessed. He probably did not care who. She would be lovely, whoever she was. I shifted my wrists, hoping to free them somehow from the restraints. Otherwise I kept my pose, on my knees, my face down, my bottom high. I did not dare change my posture, lest Elspeth flog me. ÒHurry,Ó Elspeth teased. ÒÔPlease mistress, spank my bottom,Õ is all you need say. If I whack you even once, the strokes will be delivered, all of them, even if I have to tie you more fully to do it. But you will be free of Lord Shaftsbury. He will not be permitted to enter. If he does, my dear, you are lost. I can see in your eyes what you want. A love slave, a chattel, that is what you want to be. Opulent, elegant, but not a liberated female. Not in the truest sense. You wish to be endowed with the supreme female beauty, that which comes only from submission to a male. A strong, powerful male. One who will love you, and force you to submit completely. I wished it once too, and I was such a slave. At 16, just as you will be soon. ThatÕs what you really want for your birthday, isnÕt it? A collar, a leash, and the strong whip-hand of a perfect male master.Ó 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/ Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive. Type: roller666@earthlink.net into the ÒPower SearchÓ box. Click on ÒFindÓ (the button to the right of the box). -----Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated Or via the Web: http://www.eroticstories.com http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges: Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com -----Great sites: http://www.nambla.org http://www.AlessandraSmile.com -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF story EMISSION