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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PUPPY LOVE
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Chapter Two
I wrenched at my bonds. I must get free! I could not face this.
Somehow, deep down, I suspected that my sexual odyssey in life had been
more than just fun and games. It had been for a purpose. To find the
perfect man. The complete master. One who would make me obey because
I wanted to. It was like finding a man to impregnate you, to have children
by. Perhaps it was a sort of Ôplay pregnancy,Õ this desire of mine for a
master. A test run, so to speak, for the chores and burdens of motherhood,
which were far deeper, far more long-lasting, than a few well-placed
whacks on the bottom. And I knew I did want to be a mom.
There was a knock at the door. Elspeth looked dismayed. For a
moment she seemed about to strike me, out of vengeance perhaps. Yet IÕd
obeyed her, hadnÕt I? IÕd chosen what sheÕd chosen herself. ÒCome in,Ó she
said at last.
The door opened. And as soon as I saw him, I loved him. He moved
with a grace, an assurance, IÕd never seen. Tall, uncertain in age, but older
than me, yes, that was essential. Old enough to make the world move for
him. And the girls in it. Especially me.
ÒPlease mistress, spank my bottom!Ó I cried suddenly. Elspeth only
laughed.
ÒIt is too late!Ó she said. ÒYou see him and you love him! I will not
save you now.Ó
I was untied and made to stand up straight. They blindfolded me. I
thought to resist, then thought it best not to. His hands lightly caressed
my waist, steadied me, but there was enormous power in them. Mistress
whispered in my ear that he was a drug baron, perhaps the only man who
could truly enslave me, for he lived utterly outside the law. I felt
strength in his fingers. They were long, vampire-like, as those of a heroin
addict might be whoÕd shot up so much that heÕd turned into something
utterly different. I sensed, though, as I stood shaking, biting my lip, that
heÕd freed himself of any addiction he might once have had to drugs. He
just sold them now, I guessed, for his hands felt very powerful, though
they barely grazed me as they touched my waist, my belly. Though I was
nude, utterly at his disposal, he did not cup my cunt or fondle my breasts.
He was utterly discreet, as if feeling fine china in an auction house, afraid
to grip it too hard lest he break it.
My hands were tied in front of me with a slim piece of Indian
rawhide. The rope cut into my wrists a little, as if to remind me of his
absolute power over me. Taking me then round my middle he guided me
from the bedroom, where he might have fucked me instantly, and down the
long flight of stairs at the front of the house. I had no idea where we
were going. I did not care. I was with him. My breasts jiggled freely, my
nipples almost sore in their stiffness. In my cunt I felt all desperate,
burny, as if I must have him, but he was too polite to indulge me. My
thighs moved closely, I wished to squeeze them tight, to rub myself
furiously with my fingers until my passion eased. My girlish, puppy-love
passion. How foolish I was to get a crush on this man! He would destroy
me, I knew it, or utterly transform me into a complete woman, so that I
would never be a girl, not anymore. I would be full-grown and mature. I
bit my lip harder.
ÒCareful,Ó he said, watching me. He touched a finger to my lips and
made me ease the pressure of my nervous teeth. ÒI do not wish you
injured,Ó he breathed, his throat deep, menace slinking through it, Òunless
I myself do it, or order it done.Ó
ÒWill you hurt me?Ó I asked. My voice was quavery. My steps were
hesitant on the stairs. I felt for the next step, thought I might lose my
balance. He steadied me.
ÒI will use you,Ó he answered. ÒSexually. For my pleasure, and
perhaps yours, although your duty will be to satisfy me, not yourself. Do
you understand?Ó I stood stock still, wavering in my commitment. He ran
a hand through my hair. ÒIt is too late to refuse,Ó he replied. ÒNod if you
understand.Ó Very slowly, biting my lip again, I nodded. He put a finger to
my mouth and softened the pensiveness of it. Suddenly I opened my teeth
and caught his finger inside my mouth. I sucked upon the length of it
hotly, vigorously, as a newborn with a favorite pacifier.
ÒCome,Ó he said. ÒWe must get started.Ó He stepped ahead of me,
turned, and literally led me with his finger in my mouth. I did not let go.
As he pulled me I bit into his flesh, gradually at first, then harder. He did
not complain, did not pull out of me. He led me all the way outside, the
others throwing a blanket round me as we stepped through the door, to
cover my nakedness against any eyes lurking on the street. Led like a dog,
I traipsed in my wriggling nudity down the sidewalk. The blanket only
served to heighten my awareness of myself. Within its wool confines my
boobies bounced and jostled, my bottom rolled, the fabric of the blanket
pricking me, uncomfortable yet necessary. When we slipped inside his
limo he relived me of it. He sat me on his lap and I felt his manhood in his
pants. Naughtily I moved my bottom so the staff of his uprisen cock got
caught twixt the cheeks.
ÒI hope its a bumpy ride,Ó I giggled, happy in my blindfold. His finger
rested still upon my tongue, bit-like, slurring my speech.
ÒOh, why so?Ó he asked. He brushed my hair with his fingers,
endured the weight of my bottom on his cock.
ÒBecause I might make you wet your pants,Ó I answered.
ÒYou would have me cream inside this fine Armani suit?Ó he asked.
He put a fingertip in my navel. I felt silly, baby-like.
ÒYeth,Ó I answered over his finger. ÒIf you canÕt control yourself,
then perhaps you donÕt deserve me.Ó
ÒAnd if I can?Ó he asked. For answer I bounced my fanny on his
tented prong. I closed my mouth over his finger and bit down hard. I
tasted blood.
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó I said suddenly. He took his finger from my mouth. I
lifted my hands, held him, kissed his bleeding finger. ÒDid I hurt you?Ó
ÒNot much,Ó he answered. ÒYouÕre not the first frisky girl to bite
me.Ó
ÒI want to be the last, though,Ó I said. Possessively I took his hand
and yanked it down to my cunt. I stuck his injured finger within the
confines of my twat. I gasped as I did it, but desisted not, wanting him so
badly, wanting to make him my own.
Female hands, long-nailed, came to my breasts. They cupped me,
squeezed hard, as if to make my nipples squirt milk. ÒOh!Ó I said
remorsefully. IÕd hoped we were alone, in his car. But there was one
other, at least, a woman.
ÒIÕm afraid IÕm quite popular,Ó he said. As I held his wrist he took
over now, rodding me with his finger. Soon I was no more than a little girl
on a supermarket horsey, wishing for the ride to stop, wanting to get off.
I gripped his wrist, trying to stop him from fucking me, but his strength
was overpowering. He rammed first one finger, then two, then three
within me, all the while rubbing my spot with his thumb. The woman put
her mouth to my breasts and sucked them hard. It seemed she wished to
distort their shape and leave me with ruined breasts. I bounced my
bottom, crying out. ÒStop, please stop!Ó I tried to make him come in his
pants to relieve his passion. He bent his head and kissed, then bit into the
slimness of my neck with a vicious growl.
ÒNo! Oh, please!Ó I cried, but their assault continued on my little
body, the womanÕs hands and mouth vigorous, the manÕs fingers rapidly
bringing me to the height of passion. He rammed his hand again and again
into the apex of my thighs, burying his fingers, shafting me with them
until I went over the edge. Shuddering down from my bliss I felt a new
sensation. His pants were unbuckled, unzipped, drawn down. Tightly they
gripped his muscular thighs as I felt the hair of them pricking up against
my own legs. Under me his cock suddenly stuck up. Women, apparently
sitting on either side of him, lifted me and spread the cheeks of my seat.
Their long nails dug into the tenderest portions of my bottom as I felt a
finger swab vaseline over my rosette. ÒNo! Oh, God!Ó I cried. In my
enforced posture, my bottom held aloft, I felt the menace of his cockhead
worming into position. He, or a woman, pressed its evil tip right against
my hole. ÒNot there! Not there!Ó I cried. He felt huge beneath me, a stiff
iron pole, all raw and wet-tipped, oozing.
ÒBe quiet, girl, you chose his fingers for your cunt,Ó the woman in
front of me scolded. She twisted my nipples and I shouted from the abuse.
ÒWelcome to Lord Shaftsbury,Ó a woman beside my straining host
taunted. I felt her fingers slip off my bottom, even as her companion did
the same. I was left sitting atop my LordÕs cock, with nothing to support
me.
ÒAughgh!Ó I yelled, as the grisly thing made its entry into my
butthole. The woman in front of me placed her hands on my thighs so I
could not get up. Down I inexorably sat, our hostÕs cock surging within my
bottom cheeks. I clenched them, tried to keep him out, but he was stiff as
a piston, and I had no support for my ass. The limo hit a bump and I felt
myself bounce. ÒOh!Ó I wept as I felt the cock catch me on my earthward
return. He grunted, loving it. The car hit another bump and I wound up
even more deeply pierced.
ÒSir, your suspension is shot,Ó the woman in front of me purred. She
let go of my breasts and I felt them bounce, sore and well-sucked, my
nipples coated with her saliva.
ÒCobblestones, such an adventure,Ó my new master answered,
feeling himself more deeply embedded in me each time I was thrown by
the car. Wham! Wham! Wham! We were on pure stones now, the first few
bumps having been, apparently, holes in the road, but now the bouncing
was continuous. I shuddered, shivered down his pole, feeling all my breath
forced from me. Despite my tightness there was no escaping the sodomy.
It felt as if a huge cork was being driven up the bottle-slim neck of my
anal hole, like one might stopper up champagne to save it for another day.
I, however, was not being saved, but debauched, opened. We could no
longer claim to be strangers, though I knew him by his title only, and he
knew me only by my first name. Deep, deeper he rammed up within me,
making tears run from my eyes.
ÒOh, woh, woh, woh!Ó I protested. There was no keeping him out,
though, he was too hard, the bumps too relentless. I went boing-boing-
boing upon his penis for seeming ages, his balls all rubbery and hairy and
tight against the soft-underside of my ass, promising fulfillment when he
could take no more of my girlishly-cleft ass. It was the lewdest of
amusement park rides, a log-ride of sorts, with the awful log stuck up my
heinie.
ÒAh,Ó he breathed finally, and I felt, somewhere deep within me, a
spurting. Hot jets of his seed filled my guts as my rent bottom suffered
upon his indriving prong. I jiggled, I wiggled, trying to get off him, hoping
he was finished, but he seemed to pee his sperm into me forever. And,
then, still hard, I felt him let loose his urine.
ÒNoooo!Ó I hooted, scared as could be, as he enemized me with liquid
from within his own bladder. I felt full, fuller still, but the woman in
front of me kept her hands hard upon my thighs, preventing my rising, even
as the limo wickedly ran over the cobblestones, making all of us jiggle
like balls in a funhouse.
When he was done I was lifted up. Gradually, as if loathe to leave
such sweet tightness, his cock eased down my poor well-reamed
bottomhole. I heard a little ÔpopÕ and felt myself suddenly empty. I drew
in my ass cheeks, hoping to stop any re-entry. Strangely, I felt widened
back there, as if I could not close myself as I had before. They sat my
raped bottom on his thigh. I felt his pee come running down out of me.
The woman in front of me lifted up my blindfold. She was the first thing I
saw, ravishingly beautiful, with raven-dark hair, wearing a sparkling
evening gown. It was rumpled. SheÕd hiked it up her thighs and sat
watching me, a hand between her legs, fingering her slit. I glanced down,
looked between my own thighs. I brushed my hair from my eyes with my
still-bound hands. I gasped. I looked around, over my shoulder.
ÒItÕs awful,Ó I sighed, appalled at the mess beneath me, all of it
coming rapidly from within my bottom. Pee, sperm, shit, it was on his
thigh and the seat beneath, on his trousers, half-lowered. He smiled at
me.
ÒDonÕt worry, itÕs rented,Ó he said of the limo. We were on smooth
asphalt again. Beside him two women sat, their own dresses raised, as
beautiful as the first, and intent now on seeing to their own pleasure. As
we rode, myself recovering, my host relaxing, they filled the limoÕs cabins
with their cries as they masturbated themselves to fulfillment. I
watched, captivated. Their feminine odors rose up to join with the scent I
and my host had already saturated the cabin with. My ass felt terribly
sore, and like it wouldnÕt ever be whole again, as if some huge thing
belonged inside it, forever, filling it, though I dreaded the thought of it.
My master rubbed my belly and admired my breasts.
ÒSexual entertainment,Ó he said. He kissed my young cheek. ÒYou
will see much of it in the days to come.Ó The women frigged themselves
until they were done. Then one of them poured drinks and passed them
around. I sipped mine slowly, savoring it, as they all sat and admired me.
I was their new playmate, and I knew I could not escape whatever other
awful pleasures they had in store for me, as an inspiration to themselves.
ÒYou will do well, dear,Ó the raven-haired beauty said to me. She
touched my chin. I flinched. I did not like her touching me. My bosoms
still hurt from her raping them. I glanced at my titties. They looked well
enough, but I wondered if older womenÕs breasts sagged because of too
much love-play.
ÒSo young and sweet,Ó another woman said of me. She took hold of
the cord which bound my wrists and used it to press the glass I held to my
lips. She pushed the underside of the glass up until I was forced to rapidly
swallow its contents. I felt the liquor run down my throat and fill my
belly. A headiness quickly overcame me. I giggled. I felt silly. The tips
of my nipples wiggled sweetly.
ÒWe are almost there,Ó my master said to me, his voice soft, liquor-
spiked. His breath mingled with my own and I pressed my mouth to his so
we could share our exhalations with each other, privately, blocking out the
other females. I was on his lap, not they. Though I hurt in my private
places and blamed him for it, I kissed him lovingly. Our tongues met and
he drew me closer. ÒI am going to have you whipped, later today,Ó he said
to me. I shivered but I did not care. I was his, he could do with me as he
wished.
My masterÕs house proved to be a small brownstone townhouse. It
looked like any proper suburban home you might see on a quiet, leafy
street. We pulled into the driveway. I saw a nightlight on, a lamp in the
yard to light our way up the front steps. We drove with sedate
purposefulness up the driveway, parishioners returning from late Sabbath
services, perhaps. I sat on masterÕs lap, wrecked, my bottomhole stinging.
I panted, catching my breath. My eyes were moist, my cheeks red. He
stroked my hair. The limo rolled to a stop.
ÒThis is it. Time to get out,Ó the raven-haired woman announced.
Like rumpled, dissatisfied children, too long in the back seat, we rose and
got out. My movements were awkward. My hiney felt open still, as if a jet
could zoom right up it, without the least tightness on my part to stop it.
The blanket was hastily cast over me to keep my nudity from showing.
The blindfold was disregarded. I glanced about, but could not know in the
least where I was. Someplace in Buenos Aires, thatÕs all. I guess. Deep
down inside I wished I was farther away, away from my school, my
sometime friends, my mother, Kimberly. I felt guilty that we still shared
the same city. To be fully enslaved, fully me, a grown female, a woman
and not merely a runaway girl, I felt I needed to be far away from
everything IÕd ever known. Just me, and master. Together, exploring each
other, me learning, him teaching.
ÒWhere is this?Ó I asked.
ÒShhhh,Ó the raven-haired woman said. Leading me with an arm
round my waist, she put a finger to my lips. She bent close, shared a
secret. ÒDo not wish to be too far, you may want to leave someday.Ó
I turned to her, startled. Master and the other woman followed, hand
in hand, heads bowed, thinking of nothing, probably, a couple coming home
from dinner after a pleasant evening out. Could anyone see me, the little
bundle of joy they were bringing home with them?
Across the lawn we walked. The limo began backing down the drive.
It was leaving, taking the remnant of our pleasure with it, to be cleaned
out in the morning by exploited, underpaid workers. People who never got
to do fine things, wonderful things, scary things, because they werenÕt
born beautiful, like me, or the raven-haired woman, or master. They got to
clean our shit, thatÕs it. I stepped up the front porch steps with an odd
sense of pride. I was special. I was being included, indoctrinated into a
special, self-selected group. Had the raven-haired woman fallen in love
with master too? Had she joined his entourage at my age?
She stretched out her hand and opened the front door. I stepped
inside, her arm around me. The house was silent. In the shadows master
entered behind, flicked on a light. Suddenly the raven-haired woman
yelped. I turned. Master had his hand on her bottom, pinching it hard
through her gown.
ÒNo feminist rhetoric,Ó he said to her. ÒJust take her to her room,
then go to bed yourself.Ó
He let go. The raven-haired woman twisted her lips in a painful,
silent admission of guilt. She put a hand to her hiney and rubbed it.
Large-eyed, she reclaimed me and walked me down a narrow hall. I heard
another shriek, a cry of Òwhat did I do?!Ó and the other woman followed
us, her own butt given a warning pinch. Glancing back, I saw master turn
and depart out of the entryway.
ÒIs he going to his room?Ó I asked.
ÒShhh, do not ask where he goes or why he comes,Ó the raven-haired
woman replied. ÒHe is mysterious, thatÕs why we love him.Ó
ÒAnd a good pincher,Ó the woman behind me said remorsefully.
We turned a corner, came to a room. We entered, there was a bed
inside, a night-table, closet, and dresser.
ÒThe bathroomÕs down the hall,Ó the raven-haired woman said to me.
She removed my blanket. For a moment she just stood and stared, as I
bashfully stood before her. The other woman seemed as fascinated by my
beauty as her friend was. Without clothing, I had no protection from their
eyes, but I placed my bound hands over my pussy.
ÒDonÕt,Ó the raven-haired woman said. She reached out, lifted my
hands. The other woman found a ruler on the nightstand, conveniently
placed, perhaps, and briskly struck my hands.
ÒYeeeow!Ó I blurted. It had happened so fast, IÕd not even had time to
tense.
ÒNever cover yourself, even in front of us,Ó the raven-haired woman
said. ÒNow as to formalities, IÕm Tara, and this is Jasmine.Ó
ÒCurtsey, show proper deference, dear,Ó Jasmine said to me, and
whacked my bare hiney faster than I could imagine. TheyÕd obviously had
experience in dealing with a young girl like me.
Or had they, I wondered? Would not a full-grown, mature woman be
just as untutored? As I bent my knees to pay them homage my nipples
stiffened at the thought of some vastly successful woman, or even a
proper, dignified young mother, made to obey as I was now. Would it not
be even more exciting for these ladies, to see one of their own forced into
servile humility? A vision of my French teacher at school flashed through
my mind, stripped of her clothes, forced to curtsey. I laughed.
ÒYou are well-suited for it,Ó Tara observed. She and Jasmine
brushed back my hair. ÒYoung, long-limbed, with eye-popping breasts that
show no sign of sagging.Ó
ÒSheÕs only 15,Ó Jasmine reminded.
ÒAh, but she looks older, doesnÕt she? Except for those cutesy-
cheeks sheÕs got. What a fine treat for master, to have such a young girl
at his complete disposal.Ó
A young woman entered. She was blonde, her hair shoulder-length.
ÒHi,Ó she said quietly, deferentially. She wore a short grey jacket
with a school emblem embroidered over its left pocket.
ÒEsquelo High,Ó I mouthed, recognizing the emblem. I rival school to
my own. The jacket had been cut neatly at her waist, by a tailor. Girls did
that sometimes, to show off. It was supposed to go down to her thighs, to
keep her warm on cold days. I wondered if sheÕd done the same with her
blouse. Girls with boyfriends did that sometimes. I saw she had her
jacket unbuttoned, another little provocative touch. The school rules
dictated that the jacket should be buttoned right up except in class. But
then, this was a bedroom, not a classroom.
ÒThe bastard doesnÕt trust us,Ó Tara said, glancing at Jasmine.
ÒWeÕll be going now,Ó Jasmine said to me. She gave me a little pinch
on my ass as, simultaneously, Tara did the same.
ÒOooh, Oooch!Ó I yelped, as each of them saluted my naked appeal
with their pinches right on the inner curves of my bottom crack. TheyÕd
gotten me right where it counted, in as close to my hole as fingers could
go in a briefly considered attack.
ÒOh! DonÕt hurt her!Ó the new blonde cried, and rushed up to me. Tara
and Jasmine left us alone, shutting the door behind themselves. It closed
with a loud bang.
The blonde turned me and flicked on a small lamp. The room, lit only
from the hall before, now blossomed more fully into light. She vented my
behind and peered at the small marks left by our departing friends. ÒOooh,
youÕre okay, I guess,Ó the blonde concluded after studying my spread hinds.
ÒTheyÕre not allowed to mark you in any way. I should report them. I see
you got it up the ass too. From master?Ó
ÒYes,Ó I replied, my voice soft, lisping.
ÒGood. For a moment I was afraid,Ó the blonde began, then let go of
my behind. She walked round and faced me. ÒNobody must touch you
hurtfully except master, or those he designates, like me,Ó she said. She
clasped me at the waist with both her hands and leaned forward. We were
about the same height. Our breath exhaled into each otherÕs faces. I
smelled Spearmint gum on hers. I hoped she found mine equally sweet.
Quietly she kissed each of my tear-stained cheeks. ÒDid it hurt, having
him up your bottom?Ó she asked.
ÒYes,Ó I said again. I felt like a rag doll, with her as the little
blonde girl who played with me.
ÒItÕs all part of growing up,Ó the blonde answered. She kissed my
lips once, then backed away. I saw she wore a blouse, a little black tie
round her neck, a pleated skirt, schoolgirl shoes. Her socks were short,
turned down so the ruffled tops of them decorated her ankles. Her hair
was in a ponytail. ÒIÕm to be your teacher,Ó she said, assuming a more
serious demeanor. I held my hands aloft, afraid to hide my pussy with
them, not sure what to do with them.
ÒHere,Ó the blonde said, noticing. She went to the nightstand, opened
the top drawer, took out a little scissors. With her tongue in the corner of
her mouth, childishly extruding, she cut me free of the awful rawhide. She
inspected the red mark round my wrists where it had bound me. Reaching
into the drawer again, she took out a small jar of vaseline. She applied it
liberally to the marks. Then she turned me round, bent me forward, and
rubbed some where the women had pinched me.
ÒThere,Ó she said. ÒIÕd do your hiney hole too, but I donÕt want to get
shit on my hands.Ó She already had a little, though, since I wasnÕt entirely
clean in back, thanks to my fucking. She took a kleenex from a decorative
box on the nightstand and wiped her fingers.
ÒMy job is to properly inculcate into you all the slavely values. Sort
of like the wifely values, only more submissive,Ó she said. I stood before
her, she facing me again. She spoke like a teacher might. I felt like a
child on its first day of school, or a dog at obedience training. She found
the wastecan by the nightstand and tossed away the kleenex sheÕd used.
ÒDonÕt worry, IÕll help you get broken in,Ó she assured me. ÒIÕll guide
you through the whole process. When youÕre done youÕll know exactly how
to behave as a slave, for any man you please.Ó She glanced quickly over
her shoulder. ÒDonÕt tell master I said that last bit,Ó she added, in
confidence. ÒNew girls arenÕt supposed to know that they can leave when
weÕre done with them.Ó
ÒWhat if I want to leave now?Ó I asked.
ÒBit late, donÕt you think?Ó she said. ÒWhy did you come if you want
to go?Ó
ÒI donÕt know,Ó I said. I looked down at my toes. I wiggled them. I
liked how they wiggled freely, freer than me. I doubted master would ever
think to restrain my toes.
ÒWell, youÕre going to have to work to keep masterÕs eyes on you,Ó
the blonde told me. ÒAnd by the way, my nameÕs Rachel. YouÕre Barbi,
right?Ó I nodded.
Rachel ran a hand over my belly. ÒAre you pregnant, Barbi?Ó I shook
my head Ôno.Õ ÒGood. There are some birth control pills in the nightstand.
IÕll make sure you get one every day, masterÕs orders. If he got you with
child heÕd feel compelled to keep you, and we wouldnÕt want that, would
we?Ó
ÒI wouldnÕt mind,Ó I blushed.
ÒWell, I would,Ó she replied. ÒWeÕre all a little selfish about master
here, tell the truth, and greatly resent any new females cutting in. But
master is master, and we must obey his proclivities. He says as long as
girls like him, heÕs going to train them. When heÕs old heÕll quit, he says,
but not until then. So youÕll just have to put up with me and I with you,
and Tara, and Jasmine, and all the rest who catch masterÕs eye.Ó She
slapped me, hard, suddenly, right across the face. My ears rang. I gaped at
her.
ÒJust to let you know I hate you,Ó Rachel spat at me. ÒHowever much
I kiss you, and look after you, and no matter how many times I comfort
you, I want you to know we all hate you for stealing master from us, even
for a minute.Ó
I began to sob. IÕd been through too much. ÒThere, there,Ó Rachel
said, as if sorry for hurting a friend whoÕd just dropped her favorite toy.
She kissed the top of my head, my face bowed down, mother-like. ÒI wonÕt
slap you again, none of us will, without permission. But that was from
me, and Tara, and Jasmine. You should know that we covet master more
than ourselves. ThatÕs why we became his slaves.Ó
I lifted my head. My eyes were full of tears. ÒIÕm sorry!Ó I wept.
ÒJust call the limo. IÕll go right now!Ó
ÒBe quiet, silly!Ó Rachel said to me. She touched a finger to my chin
and lifted it. ÒWhat do you think would happen to ME if you disappeared?
You should not complain at all. When I arrived, just last month, Jasmine
showed her contempt for me by beating me with a riding crop. Master put
a stop to that. I got to beat her back the next day, as a new slave, not
trained or anything.Ó
I snuffled. She put a finger to my nose. ÒQuit snuffling,Ó she said,
as if to a pet cat that was meowing too much. ÒYouÕre my first. I expect
you to behave. I donÕt want to get in trouble by not teaching you properly.
Whatever I say, you must do it at once. Do you understand?Ó I must have
been slow responding, for the next thing I knew, she was pinching my right
nipple.
ÒOoowww!Ó I howled.
ÒSay ÔI love you, Rachel,ÕÓ she ordered me.
ÒI love master,Ó I answered. She twisted my nipple more. In
revenge I grabbed her tit, found no bra underneath the stiffness of her
starched blouse.
ÒYeeeow!Ó Rachel yelped. I found her nipple, erect with her
youthfulness. I pinched it hard twixt my nails.
ÒYou bitch!Ó Rachel cried. She grabbed my hair, pulled on it. I ripped
open her blouse with my free hand.
ÒOh my God! If master sees this.... If Tara, even!Ó Rachel yelled,
fright in her voice. She swung her hand, without aim, struck my nearest
boob, sending both into wild wiggles. I yanked down her skirt. Then,
laughing, manic in my sudden freedom, I retreated to the bed and leapt
upon it. I grabbed up a pillow for my defense and, looking down, saw that
she wore no panties. Her blouse was cut short and left her pubis bare. I
stared at her and laughed, saw by the cut of the shirt that she must be
just as naked behind. Her jacket, its tail shortened, gave her no more
protection than her abbreviated blouse.
ÒWhy, you! YouÕve ruined my place as teacher!Ó Rachel said. There
was a pillow remaining on the bed and she grabbed it.
Suddenly the door to our room opened. Rachel turned her face, seeing
as I did the huge figure in the doorway.
ÒMaster!Ó we both cried. For a moment we stood spellbound as he
regarded us. Myself, cut loose from my wrist rope, perhaps without his
permission, standing nude on the bed with my pillow upraised to defend
myself. And Rachel, flunking surely as a newly appointed teacher, with
her blouse ripped open and her skirt down round her knees, one leg just
lifted up, planting a foot on the bed so she could get up on it to fight me.
Master stood calmly, cooly, his face shadowed by the lit hallway at
his back. In his hands he held a strap, his own belt, looped double. He still
wore his fine suit that heÕd met me in earlier. ÒGirls,Ó he said, his voice
deep, commanding. ÒThere will be some extra training for you both. Right
now, though, I want you both to settle down. IÕm entertaining some guests
upstairs. ItÕs a good thing I was getting a book from the library when I
heard you. If IÕd had to come all the way downstairs, and IÕm sure I would
have from the noise you were making, there would be a demotion in store
for you, Rachel. And Barbi, you wouldnÕt be getting the good nightÕs sleep
IÕm sure you need for the all the things I have planned for you tomorrow.Ó
ÒWeÕll be good, master!Ó Rachel said hastily.
ÒHmmm,Ó master said, smacking his lips. He sounded as if he were
sucking on a lozenge. ÒAnd you, Barbi? Can you contain yourself until I
have time for you tomorrow?Ó
ÒYes, master,Ó I answered, full of love and admiration for him. He
was so tall, so eerily handsome. A woman appeared suddenly beside him.
A woman I had not seen before. Nor Rachel, from the look on her face. She
was ravishingly dressed in a daring, full-length party gown. It sparkled
with sequins. She held a drink, delicately balanced.
ÒAre these your little playmates?Ó she asked. I felt suddenly
mortified. Rachel seemed to share my humiliation.
ÒMy naughty playmates,Ó he answered. ÒBehaving like little girls in
here.Ó
ÒWhy donÕt you let me handle them for you?Ó the woman asked.
Snakelike, her fingers stole onto masterÕs belt.
ÒAlright,Ó he agreed, to Rachel and my shared horror. She took the
belt. Another woman appeared behind her.
ÒOh, good! Something funnyÕs about to happen! Look, dear!Ó the
woman proclaimed. A man appeared. Middle-aged, not particularly
handsome. Someone I wouldnÕt say two words to in the street.
Our tormentress advanced. ÒKneel down, girls,Ó she said. ÒOn the
floor, please. Each of you put your pillow under your knees. I know how
much your master values you.Ó Trembling, our eyes agape, Rachel and I
dropped to our knees beside the bed. I felt like a mounted boarÕs head, my
knees atop the big pillow IÕd been holding. It kept them protected from the
roomÕs hard wooden floor. ÒFaces on the bed,Ó the woman commanded.
ÒPlease, master!Ó Rachel begged, but put her face flat on the bed
just as quickly as I. There was no telling what might happen if we didnÕt
obey. I had already learned the value of quick obedience here. ÒLegs apart
a little more, girls,Ó the woman told us. We pushed our knees out from
each other until they were at either end of our pillows. ÒSuch nice little
sexes,Ó the woman said, bending to admire our proffered pouches. The
other guests advanced, bent low, admired us. I grabbed the coverlet of the
bed and held tight. With my teeth I bit into it. I saw Rachel doing the
same. Suddenly she blanched. Someone had doused her bottom with a
drink!
ÒHurts more wet, dear,Ó the unknown manÕs voice said. It was him
who had done it! His wife, no better looking than he, splashed my ass with
alcohol. I flinched at the slight sting.
WHAAAP! came suddenly, making Rachel cry out as the strap hit her
hard across her offered peach. I knew the scent of fear, wished I at least
had her blouse, her jacket, short as they were, her skirt too, though it
banded uselessly round her knees.
SWWWWAP! I jerked as my own bottom bounced under the lash.
ÒThatÕs all,Ó master said. He retrieved the belt. For a moment
Rachel and I just stared at one another, expecting worse. I heard the
guests exit.
ÒUtter trollops,Ó I heard the unattractive woman say. ÒFor the life
of me, Shaftsbury, I havenÕt the least idea why you keep them.Ó
ÒFor amusement,Ó our master answered, which made me feel as
uncomfortable as my bottom.
Rachel stood, a little unsteady. I rose up also, to get away from the
belt, if nothing else. Ruefully we each took hold of our bottom cheeks.
Master looked down at us expectantly.
ÒThank you for sparing us, master,Ó Rachel offered. She rose on her
tip-toes and he bent down and accepted a kiss from her. ÒThank you,Ó I
said in turn, honoring him with a kiss of my own, right on his lips, tasting
RachelÕs lipstick.
ÒIf I hear either of you again it will be a different story,Ó he told us.
ÒYouÕre only being spared because IÕve got other things to attend to.Ó We
both nodded obediently. ÒTomorrow your training will start,Ó he told me.
ÒDonÕt expect it to be easy.Ó I said nothing. I lowered my eyes. He caught
me by the chin and lifted it. ÒDo you love me?Ó he asked.
ÒYes, master,Ó I answered. ÒWith all my heart.Ó He grabbed me by
the back of my neck, a handful of my long hair spilling within and over his
hand, and bent me right over until I was face-to-face with my knees.
WHACK! His free palm scorched my bottom once, splatting across
both my cheeks.
ÒYeeeow!Ó I cried, unhappily. I felt like a sack of potatoes, except
they werenÕt known for having spankings.
ÒYes, youÕve been very bad!Ó I heard next, and felt a patter of female
handslaps rain over my upended rear.
ÒOw! Ow! Ow!Ó I yelped, glad though, that RachelÕs hand had replaced
masterÕs. He let go and before I could stand he took Rachel, her dress still
at her knees, and bent her over and gave her the same ear-shattering,
bottom-splatting blow IÕd had.
ÒBoo! Hoo! Hoo!Ó Rachel cried, clearly upset at receiving the final
humiliation. Master stomped from the room and closed the door behind us.
ÒSee what youÕve done?Ó Rachel asked me. We stood facing each
other, ruefully, rubbing our hineys like toon characters whoÕd just got
their bottoms burned. Hello Kitty, meet My Little Pony. Rachel shook her
proud ponytail, let go of her fanny, and bent and pulled up her skirt. ÒYou
need to behave better,Ó she scolded me. I stood watching as she buttoned
back up the remnants of her shirt. Her boobies wiggled, not sure they
wanted to be encased in the starch again.
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó I said, suddenly abashed. I was less sorry than selfish,
though. I didnÕt want her sharing in the spotlight master had reserved for
me. ÒTell me what to do and IÕll just do it, no questions asked.Ó
ÒFirstly, you are going to behave, or IÕll report you to Tara and
Jasmine. They have secret ways of making somebody wish sheÕd done as
she was told, Ôcause theyÕre part lesbians, not like you and me. Are you a
lessie?Ó she asked. There was an accusing tone in her voice.
ÒNo,Ó I said. I looked down at my toes and wiggled them at myself.
ÒAnd quit wiggling your toes!Ó Rachel scolded me. ÒThat was the
start of our trouble last time. I should have stopped you the minute I saw
it!Ó I ceased my wrigglings. I kept my head down, though. I wished
master would return, and do whatever he had planned for me. I did not like
waiting for it. It made it worse, waiting. I guessed he knew that. Would I
win him with my performance? Would I make him all my own? If I did, IÕd
send Rachel and Tara and Jasmine packing. This would be my house, and
weÕd move it to Rio, or the North Pole perhaps, where IÕd keep master
penned up in an igloo and put and end to his wayward ways. IÕd tame him, I
would! Please him and tame him in my pleasing of him. Until he could
never think of being with anyone else ever again.
30
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-END OF story EMISSION