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Little Girls in Lust !
Actually I was going to call this posting ÒDumb stories and other
crap,Ó but then less people would have opened it. Congratulations, you are
in for some sex stories, plus political commentary, plus who knows what
else? All of it is either new, or almost new. And if there is material in
this posting advocating sex with children, or whatever, I guess you will
just have to read all 115 pages of it to find out, wonÕt you?
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Who will win the U.S. Presidency for the year 2000? DonÕt bet on
Ralph Nader. Recently I got one of his brochures in the mail. It listed his
top supporters. Here they are:
Number one on the list, at the very top of the page, in bold blue ink,
is Susan Sarandon. To my memory, this actress hasnÕt been in a movie
since 1978Õs Pretty Baby, in which she played a whore. Her daughter was
Brooke Shields, a 12-year-old whore. Brooke has sex and otherwise
spends most of the film running around naked. If you think I was looking
at Susan Sarandon when I could look at a naked 12-year-old girl, think
again.
Noam Chomsky is second on the list, in bold green ink. This man has
made a career out of mocking and criticizing the United States. Sure, heÕs
intelligent. I even enjoy him. But listing him as your second most
important supporter when youÕre running for President is like listing a sex
offender as a reference when youÕre applying for a job at a preschool.
LInda Ronstadt - This woman is third on the list. She is a failed
1970Õs singer.
Willie Nelson - A very old hippie country singer.
Randall Robinson - Some negro Oreo-cookie.
Studs Terkel - An Irishman.
Jackson Browne - A second-rate singer from the early 1980Õs.
Bonnie Raitt - Yet another country singer.
Barry Commoner - Some ultra-liberal from Massachusetts.
Ben Cohen - Yet another Northeastern liberal.
Jerry Greenfield - Another totally insignificant liberal.
Jim Hightower - Some nutty Republican guy, a fifth-stringer on
Crossfire some years ago.
Howard Zinn - I have no idea.
Herman Daly - Another unknown.
David Korten - Probably NaderÕs garbageman. Another unknown.
Eddie Vedder - From some rock band that played its last song years
ago.
Roseanne De Moro - God knows; maybe she cleans NaderÕs house.
Mel King - Some old Negro, or somebody.
Boston Rainbow Coalition Party - Fags, negroes, etc., in Boston (I
guess).
Casey Kasem - The voice of Shaggy in Scooby Doo.
Ron Kovic - Some commentator, or something.
Jello Biafra - Some negro guy? The jello in Bill CosbyÕs jello
commercials?
Barbara Ehrenreich - Writes for some magazine.
David Brower - No, thatÕs not David Bowie. ItÕs David Brower, just
like itÕs spelled. Probably drives a taxi.
American Reform Party - Huh? They have two candidates, Pat
Buchanan and John Heigland. Do they now have three?
Phil Donahue - failed talk show host.
Ronnie Dugger - God knows.
California Nurses Association - Yes! I was just waiting to find out
which candidate they supported! NOW I can cast my vote intelligently.
Then I can watch the nurses go on strike for higher pay, driving my health
care costs even higher.
John B. Anderson - Presumably this is the John Anderson who was a
failed third-party presidential candidate in 1980.
San Francisco Bay Guardian - Not exactly the New York Times, is it?
Michael Moore - He made one movie with a hand-held camera.
The last space on the list is blank. I guess Ralph Nader ran out of
supporters. Underneath the names, which I have listed, is a big line of
stars. Then some quote from Ralph and his picture. Now, I enjoy Ralph
Nader. But his supporters, Good God! I have never in my life seen such a
list of worthless, nobody supporters.
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Chapter 13
How strange it was, Ted thought, that pleasure should be mingled
with such terrible stress! He gaped in open-mouthed awe, his mouth as
slack as his balls were tight. His cock jutted forth. Even as he strained
to stretch forth and poke the girls with his penis, at the same time he
strove to hold in his sperm. With his hands, he knew not what to do,
letting them dangle by his thighs one moment, then drawing them along his
cock, only to jerk his hands back, almost in horror, lest he should lose
himself and make a puddled mess on the floor.
The puddles in the basin grew deeper. The girlsÕ upreared bare
bottoms humped back and forth as they worked. The pillows they were
kneeling on were unsteady, shifting about, making the bottoms of the girls
wobble and twist so that they might keep their balance. At the same time
the girls did not confine themselves to just one finger on each of the
gloves. Momentarily they would pause, to swallow down all in their
mouths and to draw a breath, then, they would chase the wiggling gloves,
catching at whatever finger presented itself to their lips. It was like a
feast of penises for the girls, each fat finger spurting forth milk while
the real males, behind them, nearly lost themselves watching.
ÒGod, theyÕre beautiful,Ó Brad said to Ted. The older man nodded.
Samuel, older still, but with a cock as stiff and hard as the young men,
nodded also. The females were like twin milk maids, each girl oblivious
to all but the lure of the penis-like fingers. As the fingers squirted milk
freely, Ted strove to hold himself back. He was on the brink of spending,
his balls aching, the stiffly drawn-up nuts between his legs almost in
pain. His cock was in a kind of pain too, yearning forward, desperate to
lodge itself, the men on either side of him straining outward like fence
posts.
Song Li smoothed oil over the cocks standing erect from the toilets.
She gazed at the men, then at the toilet cocks, then at the men again.
ÒHow pleasant it is to be free, to do what comes formost to mind,Ó
Song Li sighed. Diane, busy with the girls but hearing Song Li, looked over
at her.
ÒYes,Ó the blonde answered. ÒI must confess I think often of sex.
There are many handsome young men at work. But I do not always know
what each of them wants. Things must be handled delicately, or one will
get the reputation of a slut.Ó She glanced down at the girls. ÒLike these
two,Ó she laughed.
ÒThey are hoping to avoid sitting on the toilets by sucking on the
gloves,Ó Song Li said. ÒThey think we will spare them, or at least one of
them, if they win.Ó
ÒPerhaps,Ó Diane agreed. She watched the girls. ÒWhat will we do
to the one who loses?Ó Song Li nodded her head toward the pillows, the
ones they had all been sitting on when they drank their tea. Her riding
crop, black against the white of the pillows, looked forlorn. ÒAh. Yes,Ó
Diane said. ÒWe must not forget to include that little number. But why
did you brink it? We have such things here. TheyÕre in the chest of
drawers over there, behind the horse Samuel built.Ó She turned her gaze
to the plywood horse, with its sharp v-shaped seat.
ÒI like the balance,Ó Song Li said. She squirted more oil on the cocks
sticking up from the toilets. She did the right one first, then the left.
Then she bent down, her breasts swinging free and heavy as she stroked
the dicks with her fingers, smoothing the oil into a bright sheen along the
whole 12-inch length of each one. ÒBalance is important,Ó Song Li
continued. ÒA crop is just a stiff piece of bamboo, wrapped in leather.
But how it feels in oneÕs hand is what gives it its special quality. I want
each stroke I deliver to be precise. There is an art to it. The blow must
not be too soft, or the girls will think I am teasing. But too hard has its
own downside too. The bottom is to be admired as much as it is to be hurt.
It is the wiggling of the ass, induced by the sting of the crop, that is the
real goal. The salacious, slut-like jerking and bobbing and weaving of the
behind, the contortions of the cheeks, the tightening of the crack as the
crop hits and the reflexive expanding of it, showing the sweet interior.Ó
ÒSo you are not quite the absolute sadist I imagined,Ó Diane said.
ÒOh I intend to hurt them, let there be no question about that,Ó Song
Li said. ÒI am restraining myself, dear. I am making a display of them for
the benefit of the men. Men cannot abide girlsÕ bottoms bleeding. Perhaps
a little blood from the hole, you know, as a result of the girls being too
brutally shafted. But not from the cheeks. Most men do not like that. It is
what you said about the men where you work. What do they want? Some
want a mother. Others want a child. A few want both, in bed with them on
the same night, that they might first fuck the cunt that made the girl, and
then the girl herself. And I have met men who did want to see girls
bloodied. But such conneisseurs are rare. Most are like Ted and Brad,
young and lusty, admiring girls as works of art, to be only lightly ravaged.
But perhaps your Samuel has more refined tastes?Ó
ÒMore jaded,Ó Diane laughed. She looked at her husband. He yearned
forth, his cock like a flagpole desperate for a flag. ÒHe is training me
slowly. He has already told me what he will do to me in the fullness of
time.Ó
ÒWhat is that?Ó Song Li asked, squirting more oil on the cocks in the
toilets. Her generous breasts swayed, her fingers worked. There was
quite enough oil on the cocks by now, it was dripping from the base of
each into its toilet, but Song Li was too absorbed in the conversation to
notice.
ÒI am to be taken to a prison,Ó Diane said. ÒI will have my own cell.
Oh, itÕs so horrid! I can barely think of it!Ó she gasped. She looked at her
husband. He grinned, but otherwise kept his hands by his thighs, letting
himself feel the pain of desire in his cock as he her.
ÒTell me more!Ó Song Li enthused.
ÒMy cell will be separate from the other prisoners,Ó Diane went on.
ÒI am to be treated more cruelly than they are.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Samuel agreed. His grin broadened. Diane put a hand to her
face, as if to keep back the next words. But then she spoke them, through
a lacing of her fingertips across her mouth. ÒThe others, they are
protected by the law,Ó Diane said. ÒBut I will not be. With me, there will
be nothing but my husband, and his wishes. Whatever He wants done to
me,Ó Diane said, stressing the word ÔHeÕ like someone quoting God from
the Bible, Òthey will do.Ó
ÒAnd what do you want, Samuel?Ó Song Li asked, realizing at last
that there was enough oil on the cocks in the toilets. She screwed the cap
back on the bottle of oil. She walked toward the hutch, her hips swaying
alluringly. She stopped behind the men. Still wriggling her hips a little,
she wiped her hands clean on the menÕs behinds: TedÕs, then BradÕs, finally
SamuelÕs.
ÒI want her whipped. Every day,Ó Samuel said. He seemed to grow
harder as Song LiÕs hands touched his butt. Involuntarily he squeezed his
cheeks. Song Li laughed.
ÒAnd you want her penetrated,Ó Song Li said, admiring the tight line
of SamuelÕs behind. ÒRight here.Ó She jabbed at SamuelÕs tight-creased
ass, in the center of it, where his back hole lurked. His stiff cock
protruded more fully, his hips swaying forward.
ÒYes,Ó Samuel agreed.
ÒAnd do you want her branded, darling?Ó Song Li asked, stroking
SamuelÕs bottom now, gently massaging the tight buns.
ÒYessss,Ó Samuel said. His mouth clenched tight. His breath
escaped in a sudden hiss.
ÒRight here,Ó Song Li said, touching SamuelÕs clenching cheeks.
ÒYesss,Ó Samuel agreed again.
ÒI should like to see it,Ó Song Li said. ÒI should like to be there
when it is done.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Samuel said. He made to turn around. Song Li gave his
behind a light slap.
ÒNo, sir. Stand still,Ó Song Li said. ÒYou gentlemen are not here to
fuck. You are to offer yourselves to our eyes, not our cunts. You are to
keep yourselves stiffly displayed, ready for whatever befalls you, be it a
vise or a whip or even a whirring saw.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Diane agreed. ÒIÕm sure we will end the night as you wish,
but you must survive it first. Stand still like you have been doing and keep
yourselves properly offered.Ó Song Li walked around in front of the men.
She stared at them.
ÒThey are like knights with their lances,Ó she said. She reached
inbetween each manÕs legs. First she gave SamuelÕs balls a squeeze,
causing his upstanding dick to flex and wiggle. A drop of sperm oozed
from it. Song Li smiled and moved to Brad. She clutched at him. He too
offered a drop of himself, flinging it from the tip of his excited cock to
her belly. Again Song Li smiled. Finally she moved to Ted. He groaned as
she took him. ÒThatÕs a good boy,Ó Song Li said. ÒThere are three of you
and only two of us, not counting the girls. You could have us in an instant.
I am aware of that. But I admire your letting us take the lead.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Ted said. He gasped as Song Li released him.
ÒAnd now I am going to give you each something to wear,Ó Song Li
said. ÒTo make the playing field more even. You will still be naked but I
want each of you to put your hands behind your backs.Ó Song Li turned to
Diane. ÒDo you have handcuffs, dear? Big enough for a man?Ó
ÒAh, of course we do,Ó Diane said. ÒThey are in the chest of
drawers, with the whips. But really I do not think Samuel needs to be
cuffed. What if there is an accident, with the girls?Ó
ÒDonÕt worry,Ó Song Li answered. ÒWe will handle it as best we can,
between you and I. The girls are unimportant. They are for the menÕs
benefit, children really, to keep the menÕs interests rampant by the
promise of forbidden sex.Ó
ÒTheir dicks are quite hard,Ó Diane agreed. ÒSamuel has been a bit
naughty lately, having trouble with himself. But tonight your guests have
him in a pickle... or looking like one!Ó She laughed.
ÒYes,Ó Song Li agreed. ÒWhat is it about men that makes them lust
after children? For my part I resent it. I am young and beautiful, but I am
not a child. The infants among us seem to have the menÕs attention
tonight.Ó She slapped Ted on the behind. ÒIs that what you like?Ó she
asked him, pointing to WendyÕs wriggling naked ass.
ÒYouÕre the one who brought them along,Ó Ted answered. Song Li
took hold of his wrists. She drew his hands behind his back.
ÒKeep them that way until I get the handcuffs,Ó Song Li told Ted.
ÒYou are a child molster and you deserve to be punished.Ó
Brad put his own hands behind his back.
ÒSo am I,Ó Brad said.
ÒAnd me too,Ó Samuel agreed, putting his hands behind his back as
well. Song Li gave a light snort.
ÒYou men just think youÕre about to be permitted to fuck,Ó Song Li
said. ÒNonetheless I will do as you ask. But I warn you-- the cuffs will be
tight, while your penises, sticking out in front of you, will have nothing
but air to surround them.Ó
And so several minutes later found Song Li wearing a police cap
sheÕd found in one of the drawers, along with her black boots on her legs.
The men were cuffed, presenting themselves to her as she waved her
riding crop in front of their eyes.
ÒAh, two young stallions and a well-trained stud,Ó Song Li said. She
tapped SamuelÕs penis lightly with her crop. ÒStop looking at those little
girls!Ó she insisted. For Wendy and Laura, having finished their milk, were
being stood up behind Song Li by Diane.
ÒThatÕs good. Good girls,Ó Diane said. She used a handkerchief sheÕd
fetched from the hutch to wipe the girlsÕ mouths. Their bellies seemed
slightly distended; they were both full to their eyeballs with milk.
ÒOook! That was too much!Ó Wendy croaked.
ÒYes!Ó Laura agreed. Then, as the handkerchief was passed across hr
lips, she asked, ÒWho won?Ó
ÒThat will be determined later,Ó Diane said. ÒRight now I want you
both on the toilets. The cocks are ready-- I donÕt want the oil on them to
dry.Ó
ÒOhhh, no!Ó Laura and Wendy both cried. They turned their heads and
looked at the cocks, their breasts wobbling on their chests as they moved,
the tips of them wiggling. Ted noticed both girlsÕ nipples grew stiffer as
they looked. The small finger-like points erected themselves even as the
girlsÕ faces showed only terror. Were they somehow lusting after the
cocks? Ted wondered. He knew he would never want to take such a nasty
thing up his behind. But they were females, they had already felt himself
and Brad in their bottoms on that glorious first night at Song LiÕs. Could
it be that despite their misgivings, despite the pain they knew they would
have to endure, the girls really did want to grow up and be women? They
would not be children anymore, if they had suffered the complete and
definite insertion of a penis. Brad and Ted had not gotten far in their
squeezing cheeks, leaving them poised between infancy and maturity.
Now, on this night, Song Li promised to see that each girl was completely
opened. She promised to damage them if necessary, to rip them open, so
that they might take a man in thier bottom easily and without complaint.
They would still be tight, when they healed, but they would no longer be
virgin-tight.
DianeÕs handkerchief, which was a linen handkerchief, was almost
saturated with milk now as she passed it lightly across the girlsÕ breasts.
She had cleaned milk off their faces, off their chins and noses and
foreheads, leaving it matted messily in their hair but smoothing it off
their bare necks and shoulders. The tips of the girlsÕ bosoms grew even
stiffer as they felt the handkerchief pass over them. Diane took the wet
handkerchief and put it down to the girlsÕ bellies.
ÒThere. You are full, arenÕt you?Ó Diane asked softly. Both girls
nodded. ÒI must get you a little something to wear now,Ó Diane said.
ÒOh, thank you!Ó Laura gasped.
ÒI like white panties,Ó Wendy said. She ran her hands down her slim
hips. ÒDo you think you have any in my size?Ó Diane smiled.
ÒIÕll be back in a sec,Ó she said. Quickly she hurried to the hutch.
She tossed aside the rubber hoses now, hanging down in front of the
hutchÕs glass doors. The milk jugs were empty. They and their hoses had
finished their work. Diane reached into the hutch. She drew out two small
collar-like items. Each one had a ball attached to it. She returned to the
girls. ÒThis is what you will wear,Ó Diane told the girls. ÒOne for each of
you.Ó
ÒWhatÕs that?Ó Wendy asked, who had never seen such objects
before.
ÒOh. My God!Ó Laura gasped. Diane shushed them both. She slipped
the first ball gag, which had an elastic band, and was already pre-tied in
back, over LauraÕs head. She pushed the gag down until the band settled
against the lower part of the back of LauraÕs head. She ordered Laura to
open her mouth. The girl did; Diane put the big rubber ball at the front of
the gag between her lips. Watching, Wendy let out a moan of despair. Song
Li, turning away from the men, who were lined up like soldiers, and
hungrily watching, took the other gag out of DianeÕs hand. She put it over
WendyÕs head. The blonde tried lifting up her hands to resist but Song Li
scolded her in such a harsh voice that she let her hands fall back down to
their sides.
But Laura was not so easily cowed. Breaking away from Diane, she
yanked the ball gag out of her mouth. She let it drop under her chin. With
the gag hanging limply around her neck, the ball free of her lips, she began
to speak.
ÒYou guys arenÕt fair,Ó Laura said. She put her hands on her hips.
Despite her complete nudity, she had a glint of fire in her eyes. Ted gazed
at her slightly distended belly, full of milk. He looked at her breasts, full
as cantaloupes hanging above her lightly-fleshed ribs. Laura shot Ted a
particularly reproachful glance, as if he, by coming with Wendy to Hong
Kong, were completely responsible for plight. ÒYou keep calling us
children, but we arenÕt. WeÕre both 19!Ó Laura said defiantly. ÒJust
because we havenÕt done so much doesnÕt mean we should be forced to sit
on toilets built like that!Ó She pointed with her small delicate hand, her
pointing finger as erect as the waiting cocks. ÒLook at them! TheyÕre
vicious! TheyÕre not real and yet you expect me and Wendy to take them?!Ó
Ted marveled at the girl. He admired her spunk. He gazed at her full lips,
at her bright flashing eyes, at her long brown hair that spilled down past
the bare pink cheeks of her face. He stared at her slender neck, matched
by the slenderness of her arms and legs, with the ball gag poised under her
chin. He smiled over the sight of her firm uptilted breasts bouncing and
wobbling with her every breath.
ÒYou must do as you are told,Ó Ted said to the girl.
ÒYes,Ó Diane agreed. Wendy stared at Laura. The ball gag in her
mouth was still obediently stuffed in. It made her look like a lost child
who had tried jamming a giant gumball into her mouth.
Song Li eased close to Laura. The brunette jerked backward. Her
naked breasts bounced. The ball gag under her chin wobbled. Song Li
caught her by her elbow.
ÒDo you wish to resist?Ó Song Li asked the brunette. The girl
seemed to crumple under the heat of the Asian womanÕs stare.
ÒI- I just think it isnÕt fair, thatÕs all,Ó Laura replied.
ÒYoung maidens like yourself used to be sacrificed,Ó Song Li said to
the girl. ÒThe prettiest girls in the village were reserved for the God. I
on the other hand propose only to sacrifice your bottoms. To make you
mature. And yet you resist...Ó Song Li replaced the gag in LauraÕs mouth.
And then she turned the girl, and guided her toward the toilets. Diane
grasped Wendy, taking her by the arm and escorting her, Ted thought, like a
father might escort a bride down the church aisle to her new husband. Ted
felt himself grow stiffer. It seemed impossible, he was so hard already,
but he could feel the increased pumping of blood through his cock, its
newly aroused fever pitch of excitement, hotter even than what heÕd felt
just moments before.
ÒSit,Ó Song Li said to Laura. It was then that Ted noticed, for the
first time, the insidious device laid in front of each toilet. It was a block
of wood, small but with angled sides, and heavy-looking, that forced
Laura, as she drew close to the toilet, to open her legs. She would not be
able to squat down with her ankles together. The angled block prevented
that. She would have to straddle the block, and then ease herself down.
Ted watched as LauraÕs legs opened. She might have said something as she
turned and showed her muff to the men, hiding her bottom from them
except for its reflection in the mirror behind the commodes, but the gag in
LauraÕs mouth blocked all but the tiniest mewls. ÒGood. Legs apart. Now
sit,Ó Song Li ordered.
Laura threw back her hands. Gradually, as Diane brought Wendy up,
and forced her to open her legs in turn, Laura eased herself down. Her
hands came to rest on the porcelain seat of the toilet, near the back of it,
as her open thighs hovered over the center. Suddenly Laura felt the dildo
sticking up from the toilet touch against her bottom. Ted guessed it must
have touched her right in her crack, perhaps even nudging against her anus,
for the girl shot up. As she stood up abruptly Wendy, at the same moment,
began to descend. The next few minutes were like watching a pair of
ridiculous jumping jacks, or the clowns that pop out of tin boxes, as each
girl attempted to make her peace with her dildo. It was a foreign object;
despite its heavy coating of oil it did not go in easily to a place so unused
to penetration. The girls mouths gaped. They wished to speak but the ball
gags kept them silenced. They could not even reach up to remove the gags
with their hands since their arms, tiring quickly, were too busy pressed
against the toilet seat, keeping them from impaling themselves. When the
girls stood they clasped their bottoms, like children holding tight pressed
balloons, lest the wind tear them away.
ÒThat is a good start,Ó Song Li said, her voice suddenly gentle. She
held Laura by the shoulder as the girl stood up yet again. Diane looked
over at the Asian woman, her own hand on WendyÕs shoulder.
ÒYou sound almost generous,Ó Diane said. Wendy quivered under her
touch.
ÒBelive me, I am not,Ó Song Li said. ÒI am only complimenting them
before the final denoument. Look, their arms hang more limply. They are
weary now of having to hold themselves aloft. Down again, Laura. Do not
resist so much. Let the thing slide in you and tear you. Get it over with
quickly. You are too tense.Ó
Down Laura went again, as the men, their cocks wanton, watched
with lurid gazes. The brunette could barely hold herself up now, as she
pressed her hands to the back of the toiletÕs seat. Wendy, descending
again beside her, gave a sudden cry. The blonde plopped down. The dildo
jammed into her. There was laughter as everyone looked at Wendy, even
the thigh-straining Laura, still holding herself up. The blondeÕs eyes
rolled in her head as her mouth became a ball-stuffed rictus of pain. She
was stuck on the cock! It was half in her, half out of her, with her hands
futilily pressing down on the toilet seat, too tired to lift herself up.
ÒGood. Very good,Ó Song Li said. The Asian woman clapped. Wendy,
already looking dumbfounded and terrified, began to cry. Tears streamed
down her cheeks.
ÒMmmm. It hurt,Ó Diane said. She bent down and kissed the naked
girl, her own slumbrous breasts moving gently as she kissed WendyÕs ball
gag. WendyÕs breasts tossed to and fro as she struggled and tried to rise.
She looked as if she were on a boat in the ocean, but she was instead stuck
quite fast to land.
ÒOooommmfffp!Ó Laura, beside Wendy, suddenly announced through
her gag. Ted swore he heard a sound as of a veil tearing, but he couldnÕt be
sure. Diane looked between WendyÕs legs. She saw blood in the toilet
water. Gazing more closely, she saw that the blood was trickling down
the shaft stuck partway up WendyÕs behind.
ÒShe has torn her mucosa,Ó Diane announced, as if declaring the tally
in a horse race.
ÒGood. It will heal, but her anal ring will become more accustomed
to having itself yanked wide open,Ó Song Li said. Diane put a hand to her
face. She looked worried.
ÒYou donÕt think she actually tore her anal ring?Ó Diane asked the
Asian.
ÒNo,Ó Song Li said. She put her hands on the squatting LauraÕs
shoulders. She forced the girl down more. LauraÕs eyes sprang wide. Ted
pitited her as she looked as if she were having a wayward turd shoved
back up inside her. ÒIt is probably just the mucosa,Ó Song Li said. ÒThe
lining of the rectum is very fragile. It was made to expel soft turds, not
to have things like stiff cocks shoved up it. But whatever is torn will
heal. Yet the experience will remain with her, in her mind and in the way
her bottom responds. She will never again be quite so resistant as she
was tonight.Ó
Within fifteen minutes, the girls were completely impaled. Song Li
wanted them to bounce themselves up and down on the cocks but the girls
just sat, their eyes full of wonder, gagged but otherwise looking like two
penitents afflicted with an extraordinary case of constipation. Ted pulled
at his handcuffs. Never in his life had he so wanted to spend as now. The
girls were opened! He could use either of them a little more freely now,
working himself in their bottomholes at his leisure, or if not at his
leisure at least with the assurance, he hoped, of actually getting himself
all the way up inside them.
ÒThey will have to sit like this every day for awhile,Ó Song Li
remarked to Diane. ÒIt will accustom them more to the necessity of being
receptive.Ó
ÒAnd when they are 40 they will visit a doctor to get themselves
tightened again,Ó Diane laughed.
ÒYes. But that is in the future,Ó Song Li said. ÒFor now it is a
matter of making them open to the male.Ó She turned to Samuel. ÒMay I
use your little black box, sir? The one lying over there on the pillows. I
would like to get the girls moving a little, by wiggling the stiff things
that are jammed up their behinds.Ó
ÒAh yes. The ride of the century,Ó Samuel remarked. ÒBe gentle, I
beg you. I donÕt want to see them hurt too badly.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Song Li said. But Ted wasnÕt sure he trusted her.
ÒNo!Ó Ted called out. ÒThey have had enough for today. You will ruin
them. For GodÕs sake, woman. They are already bleeding.Ó
Song Li looked at Diane. The two women smiled. ÒAlright Ted,Ó Song
Li said at last, still looking at Diane. ÒThen it is time, I think, for you
men to discover how much the girls love you.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó Ted asked. He looked at Brad and the other young man was
equally puzzled, both of them offering their dicks, quite involuntarily now,
to be pillaged.
Ted found out what Song Li meant a moment later. Diane pulled the
ball gags out of Wendy and LauraÕs mouths. Ted and Brad were presented
to the girls, and despite the girlsÕ refusal, their mouths were forced to
accept, after a quick gulp of air, Ted and BradÕs cocks.
ÒYes! Bite them if you wish!Ó Song Li urged the girls. ÒIt is their
pleasure that has brought you your pain.Ó
Ted groaned. Brad let out something akin to a scream. But neither
man, despite Song LiÕs sudden urging, could bring himself to yank his cock
out of the girls. Each man sank deeper, Ted into Laura, Brad into Wendy.
The girlsÕ mouths were small and wet. They were dwellingplaces of heat
and saliva, and quick tongues that found themselves suddenly stilled as
the menÕs meat plowed in. Ted felt LauraÕs teeth scrape his cock. He
broke into a sweat. But the girl didnÕt bite him, despite the fact that she
ws being forced for his pleasure to sit on a big hard penis. It was the
same with Wendy. She didnÕt bite down, despite the unwillingness of her
mouth. Was it because Ted and Brad were so large, dislocating the girlsÕ
jaws? They didnÕt actually do that, Ted reflected, but they certainly split
the girlsÕ mouths to a mind-numbing extent. Perhaps it was just the shock
of being impaled at both ends. Or perhaps, Ted told himself in later days,
the girls had really wanted it, loving it despite the pain it brought,
knowing that it would make them women.
Later that evening, after resting on the pillows, they put the girls
again on the toilets. The shock of having their bottoms impaled again sent
the girls almost into shock. Both of them cried as they felt the long
members slide up into their guts. They were a little less resistant now,
Ted noted, but the change was small, owing in part to the pain the girls
felt as their already damaged mucosas suffered yet more harm.
The next day, after a long rest in bed, the six guests assembled in
Diane and SamuelÕs dining room. It was a formal dining room. But they all
dined naked, even the girls, who sat on big soft pillows so as to cause no
further harm to their bottoms. Ted sat with his penis stiff between his
legs. He had ejaculated the previous night, first in LauraÕs mouth and then
later in WendyÕs, when the girls sat on the toilets again, but otherwise he
had not had sex. Nor had Brad, except for what the girlsÕ mouths had
provided. Only Samuel had been milked in the traditional way, fucking
both Song Li and Diane on the pillows while Brad and Ted, handcuffed,
were forced to watch. Song Li was teasing him, testing him, Ted reckoned.
She wanted to keep him as hard as she could, letting him have only a little
relief.
The girls, sitting at the table, were forced to wear handcuffs. Ted
and BradÕs hands were free. The men were forced to feed the girls their
breakfast. The girls wore bibs around their necks. Their ball gags, which
they wore continuously now, when they were not eating, hung loosely
under their chins and under their shielding bibs.
ÒAfter dinner we shall play a game,Ó Song Li said. She looked at
Diane. The blonde woman nodded. Wendy, who was just accepting a
forkful of roast turkey from Brad, nearly gagged. Laura fared little better,
nearly choking on potato salad Ted was spooning into her mouth.
ÒThe girls seem discomforted by your suggestion,Ó Ted said to Song
Li.
ÒIt is a simple game,Ó Song Li replied. ÒThree milk bottles will be
placed into a small hole in the floor. Each one will be cold, with a straw
sticking up from it. I will turn on a radio. When I turn it off, the girls
must stop what theyÕre doing.Ó
ÒAnd what will they be doing?Ó Brad asked. He used a corner of
WendyÕs bib to wipe turkey dressing off of her lips.
ÒThey will be racing from bottle to bottle, sucking down the milk,Ó
Song Li said. When I turn the radio off, we will see which of them has
less milk in her bottle, meaning, whichever one her face is closest to.
That one will be spared. But the one with the fuller bottle will receive a
whack on the ass with a paddle.Ó
Wendy glanced at Laura. The two of them each made a face.
ÒThe girls do not seem to appreciate your inventiveness,Ó Ted told
Song Li. ÒPerhaps we have done enough to their bottoms. Their mucosas
are still healing. I would not want to see either of them harmed any more,
particularly in such a private and intimate spot.Ó The two teens looked at
Ted. Relief showed on their faces.
ÒYou mean in their bottom holes?Ó Song Li asked.
ÒYes,Ó Ted said. ÒAnd on the seats of their pretty, perfect round
asses. Really, they do not need a paddling. They have been through a great
deal in the past day. I am in awe of their bravery.Ó Laura turned her face
to Ted. Lightly she kissed him on the cheek.
ÒI am in complete agreement,Ó Brad said, and momentarily received
a gravy-lipped kiss from Wendy.
Song Li frowned. ÒYou men are weak,Ó she said. ÒBut donÕt take it
hard. All men are weak. They hold females in too much esteem,
particularly the youngest females,Ó she said. ÒThe girls needed to feel the
pain of having their buttholes torn on the dildos. By experiencing the pain,
they will be more receptive in the future. They will more readily open to
the male penis, rather than re-experience the pain of being torn. And they
will prefer the discomfort of a bottom fucking to the pain that would
occur if they resisted the entry. So you see,Ó Song Li said, brushing back
her black hair. ÒDiane and I have benefitted you men by torturing these
girls. But of course you and the children are ungrateful,Ó she added,
glancing at the two teens.
ÒMy bottom hurts!Ó Wendy protested, speaking for the first time at
the table.
ÒMine too!Ó Laura chimed in.
ÒI will not tolerate this, girls,Ó Song Li answered. ÒChildren are to
be seen and not heard.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Diane agreed.
---
breasts tossing to and fro
---
--------------------
George W. thru the Ages
What if George W. Bush had lived in earlier times?
3,000 B.C. Bush creates the Heavens and the Heavens.
33 A.D. Bush crucifies Judas.
1100 Inquisition, led by Bush, successfully suppresses Christianity.
1492 Bush sails the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria to Antarctica.
1777 Bush, leading U.S. troops, leaves Valley Forge and crosses the
Mississippi.
1864 Union trooops, led by Bush, win the battle of Canada.
1944 U.S. planes stage daylight bombing raids on London.
1944 Successful landing of U.S. troops in Kamchatka.
1945 Atom bomb kills Japanese in San Francisco.
1969 America is the first country to land a man on the sun.
1972 Bush bugs Republican campaign headquarters.
1972 ÒLinebacker IIÓ successfully bombs Saigon.
1975 Last U.S. troops evacuate Washington.
1976 Bush supports Gerald Ford at the Republican convention.
1990 U.S. troops in Operation Desert Storm defeat Israel.
2000 Bush defeats John McCain.
-----------
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
A Martyr to Love
Chapter One
He felt the whip in his hand. It was solid, hard, like the part of
himself in his pants that felt as if it would burst. He drew the whip back,
enjoying the heaviness of it, the taut swing of the leather as it reached
its rearmost point. With a quick lifting of his hand he let the whip fly. It
struck his wifeÕs bottom. She screamed. Her buttocks, already lifted
high, reared higher. He saw with satisfaction the red mark his whip made
on her ass, making her shake it rudely, belying the professional status she
held in the Ôreal worldÕ, the world of the everyday, where she was a
doctor.
He was a lawyer. A tort lawyer, suing for ÒclaimsÓ made mostly by
people trying to increase the size of their purse. He sued for adultery, for
sexual harassment, for child molestation, whatever the fad of the times
paid most for. He broke peopleÕs lives, he liked to say, and his wife
mended them.
Going to the bureau, he opened the top drawer. He rummaged for a
cigarette as his wife recovered. The movement of her bottom slowed, the
cheeks, formerly so white and delicious but now stridently pink, relaxed.
And then they tightened again, feeling the awfulness of the sting renew
itself in a kind of afterglow, a renewed memory of the whipÕs blow.
ÒUhhhhnnn,Ó Georgina gasped. Lars found a cigarette and put it to his
lips. He scanned the open drawer for a lighter.
ÒYouÕre getting soft,Ó he said to his wife. ÒYou used to hold back on
that first gut-wrenching scream until at least the twentieth stroke.Ó He
was not even hitting her particularly hard. She had a meeting tomorrow
and she had made him promise that she would be able to sit down for it.
He felt a sudden impulse to hit her harder, to make her pay for her
laziness in screaming so soon. They did not do this as often anymore, him
tying her up and whipping her before sex. Other things had begun to
intrude. He had made senior partner at the firm, lengthening his hours
(something everyone had always said would never happen), she had been
promoted to the head doctor in her office. He stepped back to where heÕd
been standing, three feet behind her. He drew back the whip, his cock
straining in his pants. He let it fly once more. She screamed marvelously,
the stroke harder than sheÕd expected, the danger of her not being able to
sit tomorrow suddenly pregnant in her mind. She was gorgeous as she
arched before him, still just 27, a full ten years younger than he. But he
was restless, bored, despite her butt-wrenching similarity to any manÕs
dream version of the Playmate of the Month. Something about her being a
doctor bothered him. A professional, a person with outside obligations
and commitments. He wanted her all for himself, forever, with nothing to
intrude between them. But it couldnÕt be. She was too valuable. Too many
people depended on her. Too many people expected her to show up for work
in the morning. Every morning. There were her monthly clients, her bi-
monthly clients, little old ladies and young men too, whose Òproblems,Ó as
far as Lars could see, were confined solely to a need to re-charge their
bedroom fantasies by spending a quarter hour or so face to face with
someone they usually saw just in a magazine.
When he was finished hitting her, they made love, her bottom
wonderfully tender as he entered her and left the best of his bodily fluids
in her. After that they lay in their bed. She laid on her belly to keep her
sore ass from rubbing the sheets. He laid on his back, feeling the strength
of himself slip away. Her face pressed to his chest, kissing his chest
hairs as if one by one. Her hand stroked between his legs, encouraging him
But he felt a sort of ennui, a kind of casual disobedience in his loins. He
might rise again to give her seconds but then again he might simply smoke
instead, denying her.
ÒDo you love me?Ó she asked in the darkness.
ÒOf course I love you,Ó he replied, lifting the cigarette from his lips
and exhaling. For the first time he realized he had fucked her while he
smoked, giving her all of himself but at the same time somehow keeping a
cigarette balanced in his mouth, as if he were not her husband but a gigolo
paid once too often for this sort of thing.
ÒI think you do,Ó she agreed. She kissed him again, more slowly even
than before, as if worshipping his chest hairs now, as if supplicating a
God. Her fingers snaked along his organ between his legs. Obediently,
indolently, it began to respond. He felt it rise. She gripped it, feeling the
growing largeness of it in her hand. He stiffened more. She gasped
appreciatively. ÒWe must think up new games,Ó she suggested. For some
reason she sounded to him like a doctor diagnosing a condition,
recommending a prescription. He stood up grandly, his back still pressed
to the sheets but his cock stiff and hard.
ÒYes,Ó he agreed.
He walked along the hall. He admired the paintings on the panelled
walls. They had cost a lot, but they had their intended effect. Clients,
coming to his firm for the first time, saw the paintings and assumed he
and his staff must know the law very well if they could afford such fine
art. In fact, the paintings had been too expensive for even his firm to buy
outright. They had taken out a loan whose payments were becoming a
burden. But the clients didnÕt know that. They assumed the paintings
were owned, outright, like the paintings they had at home that theyÕd
bought at Wallmart, or the local gallery.
The paintings had their desired effect on the help, too, Lars mused,
as he saw a figure dart across the hall. She was Elaine. The new girl.
Long brown hair, a quick, lithe body, sumptuous tits and an ass that looked
like it hadnÕt put on an ounce of weight since eighth grade. Oh, and she
could type, too, although the firm had felt obliged to buy her color paste-
ons for her typewriter keyboard so she could increase her speed. Red
paste-ons for the primary letters, yellow paste-ons for the secondary
letters. Green for the numbers. New clients mistook the girl for a high
school student, a daughter of one of the partners perhaps, but Lars didnÕt
mind.
ÒOh Elaine,Ó Lars called out. The girl turned.
ÒYes sir?Ó she asked. There was a kind of distance in her gaze. She
worked for another senior partner, not Lars. There were definite rules in
the firm regarding who worked for whom, especially at the senior level.
Her boss was an asshole. He didnÕt want her working on anything that
wasnÕt his. Lars could see in her gaze her fear, that she would be given
something to do by him that her own boss would later scold her for taking
on.
ÒUm, coffee. When you get the chance,Ó Lars said. The girl nodded.
She disappeared. Lars wanted to look into the office that sheÕd
disappeared into but it was Old IronsidesÕ office, as Lars called her boss.
He would sit in there all day chain-smoking cigars and belching out orders.
Lars couldnÕt imagine why the girl had ever signed on with the man, but
she said it was for the art they had in their firm, on the walls, and he was
grateful whatever the reason, for his own secretary, while highly
efficient, was going on her fortieth year in law.
ÒMr. James,Ó LarÕs secretary said as he passed into his own office.
ÒYes?Ó Lars asked.
ÒJust between you and I, sir, although your theory of this case is
highly proficient, it may perhaps not be in the best interest of your
client,Ó LarÕs secretary, one Magda Rene, told him. Lars stopped by her
desk. He peered down at her word processor screen.
ÒAnd?Ó Lars asked.
ÒIÕve made a few changes,Ó Magda replied.
ÒYes. Of course,Ó Lars said. ÒThank you.Ó He turned and went beyond
her desk into the secondary room that formed his office proper, with the
view of the bay and the ships. Another lawyer might have frowned on
MagdaÕs intrusion into his work but Lars never did. He was a lawyer
without any convictions, she was a one-time law student with a felony
conviction for drugs, back in the days when she was much younger. To
make up for fact that her conviction precluded her ever being a lawyer,
she worked twice as hard. And sheÕd been doing it for 40 years. Lars
trusted her judgement. She had, in fact, as they both privately knew, made
him partner with her efforts. She did the bulk of the work and he got the
plaudits. It was a great arrangement, even for her, because any other
lawyer might well have stomped on her independence, perhaps even firing
her for it. Lars let her do what she wanted. The only problem was, she
would probably die at her desk, and in the meantime the firm saw no
reason to give him another secretary. Old Ironsides got the sweet college
girls, like Elaine, who would work for the firm for a year or so before
moving on with their lives. Lars got Magda.
There was a knock on the door of his office. He looked up. He hadnÕt
even noticed that heÕd closed the door behind him.
ÒCome in,Ó he called, expecting Magda, with another of her
ÒsuggestedÓ changes. Instead, the figure that wafted into his office was
as light and young as the steam rising up from the coffee cup she held in
her hands. His cup. She held it with both her hands, as if it might be some
precious vessel, belonging to a God. He shook his head. His thoughts, he
told himself, were becoming clouded. The girl had been nice enough, in
recent days, to fetch him coffee, even though Old Ironsides, if heÕd found
out, would have read her the riot act. She stepped up to his desk. She held
the coffee out to him, across his desk, like some awkward child. HeÕd told
her before to come around the desk, to not seem so scared of him, but
sheÕd replied that it wasnÕt him she was scared of, but Old Ironsides. She
had to keep her distance. She couldnÕt stay long. He reached out for the
coffee, re-enacting the clumsy passing of the cup as in days past.
ÒThank you, Miss Klass,Ó Lars said.
ÒYouÕre welcome,Ó Elaine answered. She blushed. He looked at her,
taking in the rosiness of her cheeks, her bright eyes, her perfectly shaped
rosebud lips and the way her eyelashes fluttered, first letting her look at
him, then blinking, avoiding him, only to boldly open again and given him
the fullness of her gaze. Their eyes had stared at each other for longer
than either of them realized when she said, suddenly, ÒIÕd better go.Ó
ÒOh. Yes,Ó Lars agreed. He felt as if he were coming out of a daze.
For a moment he had seen her not in her conservative skirt and blouse and
cute little girl scout-style necktie, complete with white nylons and
office-appropriate heels, but naked, with a dog collar around her neck.
She blushed again. As she turned he remarked anew, as he had many times
before, to her similarity to the girls he saw every day getting out of the
high school, down below his window and across the street. He still
wondered sometimes if she werenÕt in fact a college freshman but a high
school sophomore whoÕd somehow faked her school records to get into his
firm. She turned, just as he was calling himself a pervert for imagining a
whip hitting her ass.
ÒOh Lars,Ó Elaine said in her soft, eager voice that she had begun
using whenever they were truly alone, as they were now with the office
door shut.
ÒYes?Ó Lars asked. He looked at the door beyond her. When had she
started closing that? A day before, two? She had left it open previously
but now for the past several days she had closed it, giving them a moment
of their own, just the two of them, even though she still refused to come
around to his side of his desk.
ÒIÕll be leaving at the end of the week,Ó Elaine said.
ÒNo!Ó Lars blurted. Now it was his turn to blush. HeÕd never let on to
his interest in her, not really, even scolding himself for the odd erotic
thought about her. But now, with the suddenness of her revelation, his Id
overpowered his better judgement. She smiled, sheepishly.
ÒI have to,Ó she told him. LarsÕ face fell.
ÒA boyfriend?Ó he asked.
ÒNo, just a great offer,Ó Elaine answered. Lars imagined a great
offer heÕd made to his wife once, a getaway weekend for two. That was
when theyÕd discovered the little shop in New Orleans, on Royal street,
selling whips.
ÒI... see,Ó Lars said. He cleared his throat. She put her hand on the
doorknob to his office door, as hesitant as ever to stay and say more than
a few words to him. Old Ironsides would be wanting her. ÒBut what kind
of offer?Ó Lars said. He realized there was a pleading note in his voice.
And, at the same time, a sense of desperation, and longing not to hear the
answer he was sure she would give, if only she had the courage.
ÒMy brother is going horseback riding, out West, and he said I could
come,Ó Elaine said.
ÒOh,Ó Lars replied. He frowned. He tried to find a boyfriend angle in
her statement somewhere, but ElaineÕs words were full of their usual
innocence, an artless child babbling about ponies. ÒAnd who else will be
going?Ó Lars asked. Now it was ElaineÕs turn to frown. ÒJust him,Ó she
said. ÒHe didnÕt want me to come but when I heard he was going to be
riding horses, I begged him. I really like horses!Ó Elaine said.
ÒYou do,Ó Lars said. It was a kind of leaden statement. He didnÕt
own any horses but he imagined perhaps he could get some, if the girl
were really into them.
ÒWell, and elephants too,Ó Elaine added. ÒSomeday IÕd like to ride
those big elephants in India, way up there like IÕm royalty!Ó
ÒYes,Ó Lars said, becoming confused now, his daydreams mingling
with her youthful aspirations in a kind of surrealistic erotic nightmare,
Elaine floating before him, a coffee cup in her hand, a dog collar on her
neck and a big elephant suddenly rising, taking her with him, leading her
off where he might never meet her again. And whipping the elephant,
driving it, was her brother, Oedipedal longings written all over his face.
ÒYes of course,Ó Lars said, the woodenness of his voice providing finality
to his fears, for when he looked up again he was gone, and his door was
closed, and there was nothing for him to stare at but a slab of expensive
wood.
That night he lay in bed with his wife, as they had before, she with a
burning ass and he with a cigarette in his mouth. They had actually
bothered to go downstairs, down to their cellar, to their makeshift
dungeon, for a formal whipping there before coming up to the bed. He had
tied her to a whipping post as if she were some Medieval penitent, and he
the inquisitor charged with beating heresies out of her. She had screamed
even earlier this time, but he had hit her harder, not caring this time if
she wouldnÕt be able to sit the next morning.
ÒYou were awful,Ó she told him, kissing his chest now, as he lay
smoking.
ÒI am to displease,Ó he replied.
ÒIÕll have to stand tomorrow and theyÕll all wonder whatÕs wrong
with me,Ó she chided.
ÒYes,Ó he replied. And then she asked him the question again, the
question sheÕd asked on the previous night.
ÒDo you love me?Ó she whispered, between kisses.
ÒOf course,Ó he answered.
ÒWe must think up new games,Ó she said. She kissed his chest and
then licked it.
He kept the magazines in his office. He kept them locked in a safe,
behind a painting on his office wall. He did not know that the girl had
found the key to the safe, under the ashtray on his desk, when she had
stepped in one afternoon after he was gone, and lovingly straightened the
papers on his desk. He didnÕt know that she had lifted up the painting one
afternoon, curious, wondering if she could learn more about it, and seeing
the safe behind it. He hadnÕt been there when, with trembling hands, she
had taken the painting down off the wall and tried the key in the safe. She
had wondered if there might be more art in there, that she could write
about for a college paper she had due. Instead she found the magazines.
They shocked her, at first. They were porn magazines, of people
doing things sheÕd never heard of before, or only vaguely imagined, in the
way children sometimes imagine things when they become excited. She
stared, she became heated. She put the magazines back in the safe and
hurried out of his office only to return the next day, when he was gone,
and look at them once more. In addition to the magazine were letters, love
letters, from his wife. At first she had told herself they might be letters
about the art on the office walls, letters from curators perhaps, but when
she found out they were from his wife, whom sheÕd never met, she read
them anyway. It was too tempting to read a married womanÕs thoughts not
to. Especially a womanÕs thoughts about a man she was becoming more
and more infatuated with. She wondered, as she read the letters, what
Lars wrote back, or if he wrote anything at all. In her letters Georgina
reproved Lars for punishing her bottom. Her bottom! And then, seemingly
in the next breath, she complimented him for it, telling him how awful it
had been, but also how it had made her feel special too, being the only
woman in her office with such a well-loved ass.
So it was not in complete ignorance that next afternoon when Elaine
met LarsÕ wife, for the first time, in his office, when she brought in his
after-lunch coffee. The girl said nothing of her discovery of the
magazines or the letters, of course. And Georgina, taking an immediate
liking to her, saw only artless innocence. Lars did too, as he admired the
way Elaine and his wife seemed to ÔclickÕ with each other. Elaine,
forgetting Old Ironsides for the first time in her visits, sat down.
Georgina sat also, wincing a little, bringing a secretive smile to ElaineÕs
lips.
The two talked. ÒSo how long have you been married?Ó Elaine asked.
Georgina, for her part, asked about ElaineÕs trip. Lars coffee grew cold in
his hands. He said only a little. The girls seemed, for the moment,
entirely interested in each other, as if sizing each other up, but in a
friendly way. At last Old Ironsides called for Elaine. The girl leaped up.
She blushed and apologized. She hurried out of the office, leaving Lars
alone with his wife.
ÒSheÕs sweet,Ó Georgina said, turning to Lars.
ÒYes,Ó Lars agreed. He lifted his coffee. He took a swallow. He
made a face as he found it cold.
ÒWe could include her,Ó Georgina said.
ÒWhat?Ó Lars asked.
ÒIn our games,Ó Georgina told him.
ÒNo,Ó Lars said. ÒSheÕs only a high school girl. Well, college
actually.Ó
ÒThen sheÕll do just fine,Ó Georgina told him.
The following Monday evening, Elaine knocked on their door. SheÕd
been invited to dinner. She was no longer working for the firm and Lars
felt a sense of relief as he went to the door and let her inside.
ÒHello,Ó Lars said. It was raining outside. The girl looked up at him
from under a the hood of a yellow rain slicker.
ÒHi!Ó Elaine answered cheerily. She stepped in. Immediately Lars
took her yellow slicker, drawing it off her as he kicked closed the door.
There was an eagerness in his touch.
ÒIs that her?Ó Georgina called from their kitchen.
ÒYes,Ó Lars said.
ÒIÕm here!Ó Elaine said, as if to confirm her physical presence.
ÒYou certainly are,Ó Lars gasped. Gone were the girlÕs conservative
office clothes. Instead she wore a cropped blouse, showing her midriff,
and a skirt that most certainly could be called ÔminiÕ. The girlÕs long legs
were bare, stretching down to stiletto heels. Lars studied her back and
behind and sensed the presence beneath not of a bra or panties, but of
swimwear, very diminutive swimwear, the kind made not for the beach but
for bedroom play. Lars opened a closet. He hung up the girlÕs yellow
slicker. Rain dripped off it onto the closetÕs carpet, but LarsÕ barely
noticed. His mind was elsewhere, on the girl. She had summarily
cancelled her trip, upon being invited to his place for dinner. But,
curiously, she had still quit her job at his firm, with no explanation save
that she was tired of studying art. Well, Lars mused. Perhaps it was for
the best. He might know her more intimately, now that she was no longer
on his firmÕs payroll. Old Ironsides wouldnÕt look kindly on him fucking
the help.
Elaine turned to Lars as he closed the door of the closet. She beamed
at him. He wondered if she sensed a new freedom between them, now that
they no longer worked at the same place. For the first time ElaineÕs hair
was loose. Instead of being pulled back, to show all of her face, it hung
suggestively close to her eyes, as if in a kind of veil. A sexy veil, the kind
used to beckon, to make a girl look more mysterious, and yet at the same
time to lure a man in. ElaineÕs hair was brown, not blonde like his wifeÕs.
But it had a youthful appeal that his wifeÕs, with her years of professional
work, was allowing to slip away. Lars walked to the girl. The next thing
he knew, they were holding hands. Lars wasnÕt sure if he had taken her
hand or if she had taken his. He walked her from the foyer into the living
room, her eyes still studying him, her stride matching his, though her
height was much less.
ÒI need to tell you a secret,Ó Elaine said to Lars. Her voice was soft.
ÒYes?Ó Lars asked.
ÒI wouldnÕt ever have told you but now that I no longer work for the
firm, I guess I can,Ó Elaine said. She blushed, fiercely. Her eyes darted
away. She covered her face with her hand.
Lars put his hands on her shoulders. She felt small in his hands, like
a butterfly trying to take to the wind. He gripped her tight.
ÒAre you alright?Ó Lars asked. The girl nodded.
ÒJust... embarrassed,Ó Elaine confessed.
ÒGo ahead. Tell me,Ó Lars said encouragingly. His voice was gentle.
Elaine lifted her chin. With tears in her eyes, holding back a temptation to
sniffle, she blurted,
ÒI looked at your magazines. And your wifeÕs letters too!Ó
ÒOhhh...Ó Lars said. The word came out like a gasp, like a deflating
balloon. Then, realizing suddenly the full implication of what sheÕd said,
and the fact that he was holding her even at this moment, he said, ÒWell,
donÕt worry about it.Ó
ÒIÕve never done anything like that,Ó Elaine told him frankly.
ÒLooked at magazines?Ó Lars asked.
ÒNo. I mean, yes, I mean-- what was IN the magazines,Ó Elaine said.
ÒAnd I wouldnÕt want to either,Ó she added, hastily, but she did not look at
Lars as she spoke the last bit, as if caught in a lie of her own making and
knowing it.
ÒWell, here you are!Ó Georgina said brightly, coming from the
kitchen. LarsÕ wife was dressed in a long skirt and blouse. The blouse had
a high collar, making her look vaguely like a school marm. She wore pearls
around her neck. They sloped down over her bosom. The sparkling baubles
drew attention to her wonderfully prominent breasts, catching LarsÕ eye
and ElaineÕs. Georgina looked at the girl and smiled. Then, drawing her
close, she bent down and kissed her. Elaine was about 5Õ 4Ó, but slender,
except for her magnificent tits. Georgina was 5Õ 9Ó, a modelÕs height, her
breasts pushing hard into ElaineÕs as she held the girl and kissed her,
slightly lifting the smaller girl off of the floor, making Elaine stand on
her tip toes. Lars admired the two of them touching lips and felt himself
grow turgid.
Their embrace ended. They separated. ÒWell!Ó Georgina said,
slightly flustered, as was Elaine, for their kiss had lasted longer than
either of them expected, not just a peck on the lips but a full kiss, like
lovers might make.
ÒYes!Ó Elaine agreed, recovering her footing on the floor. Lars,
seeing the brightness in ElaineÕs eyes, wondered if she had acceded to
something. His wife looked at the girl, holding her by her arms.
ÒYou are dressed more casually than at the office,Ó Georgina said.
ÒYes, not so stuffily, like a librarian,Ó Elaine said. ÒThough I used to
wish I could be a librarian.Ó
ÒOf course, and a ballerina too, I suppose,Ó Georgina chimed.
ÒHow did you know?Ó Elaine asked.
ÒI know everything,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd I know that youÕre wearing
a bikini under all that. Did you think we had a pool?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Elaine said. Then, blushing suddenly, she said ÒYes,Ó but didnÕt
look at Elaine as she corrected herself.
ÒIÕm sure you did,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd in honor of your wearing
your swimsuit, even though we donÕt actually have a pool, IÕm going to
enforce our dinner time rule for new guests,Ó Georgina told Elaine.
ÒA rule?Ó the girl asked. Her eyes were wide and artless but Lars
sensed complicity in her gaze.
ÒYou must eat in your swimsuit,Ó Georgina told her. ÒSo we may
admire you. ItÕs nice and warm. You wonÕt have to worry about getting
cold.Ó She turned to Lars. ÒTurn up the heat, dear,Ó she told her husband.
ÒI... of course,Ó Lars said, as bewildered now as Elaine was, and
walking awkwardly as he turned and went to the closest thermostat.
ÒOh but I donÕt think,Ó Elaine protested.
ÒI donÕt care what you think,Ó Georgina said in a loving tone. ÒYouÕll
eat in your swimsuit. Now take off these clothes. IÕll give you hangers
for them.Ó
To LarsÕ surprise, with only a quick glance at him, the girl began
disrobing. He sensed an eagerness in her movements, as of a taut string
finally allowed to ease, each piece of clothing, of which there were very
few, representing some repressed part of herself that she was now finally
giving herself permission to jettison. In no time her cropped blouse, her
miniskirt and a chiffon neckerchief, the color of the slicker sheÕd been
wearing, were folded neatly on a chair. Georgina brought some hangers.
Together they put the clothes on the hanger and Georgina took them to the
hall closet where Lars had hung the girlÕs rain slicker. Meanwhile, Lars
was spellbound. He watched steadily, forgetting all about the thermostat,
gazing raptly at the girl as she exposed her underthings. The bikini she
wore was unfit for any beach. It barely contained her breasts, the tiny
cups being either designed for a woman with no tits or, in ElaineÕs case, to
cover only her nipples. These were hard, sticking out in seeking
perfection, like twin cherry stems looking for babes to feed. As a result
the little cups, already straining to cover the tips of her breasts, were
pushed into points, further reducing the amount of flesh they covered.
Meanwhile, some distance from her twin breasts, down below her flat soft
childÕs belly, her pubic hair was contained by a small transverse of cloth.
To say that it cupped her pussy was to exaggerate; it covered part of her
pubic bush, not all. Beneath the triangle of her bush it narrowed to
pencil-thinness, disappearing up between the lips of her cunt. Georgina
gazed with approval at the girl. She gathered her things.
Unselfconsciously Elaine helped Georgina take her clothes to the closet.
The new view Elaine presented, when she turned with her clothes in her
arms and showed Lars her ass, was astounding. There was only a small
panty portion, cupping her bottom as if after a thousand trips through
some drier. Most of her bottom crack showed, as did her cheeks, with only
the lowermost portion, where her bottom curved under and met her legs,
feeling the embrace of her panties. Together Georgina and Elaine put her
things in the closet. Then they regarded each other again and then,
turning, they both looked at Lars.
ÒHi,Ó Elaine said, blushing anew. Lars wondered where such an
innocent looking girl could find such a sexy swimsuit.
ÒHi,Ó Lars stammered. He reached for the wall thermostat. Georgina
smiled.
ÒI think Elaine has something sheÕd like to tell you,Ó Georgina said.
ÒShe told me over the phone, this weekend, and thatÕs why we decided on
her wearing a swimsuit.Ó
ÒOh, so youÕre in on this too?Ó Lars asked. He adjusted the
thermostat, blindly, not looking at it, just feeling the notches and
adjusting the dial to match.
ÒYes,Ó Elaine said. There was an odd exuberance in her voice. She
grinned, blushed. ÒIÕm a virgin,Ó Elaine said. ÒAnd IÕve chosen tonight to
lose it.Ó
Lars had trouble eating. Elaine ate with gusto mixed with a kind of
anxiousness, like a child eager to go the fair but at the same time worried
the roller coaster might make her lose her dinner. Lars marvelled at the
girlÕs demeanor. As she explained at dinner to him, and had over the phone
to his wife, she had saved herself for just the right man. And, for
whatever reason, sheÕd chosen Lars. When sheÕd learned that Georgina
wouldnÕt object, her enthusiasm to Ôdo itÕ doubled. And so now here she
was, confident in her little bikini, proud of the way her every move
entranced Lars and grateful to Georgina for letting her plan go through.
ÒI liked you the first day I met you,Ó Elaine told Lars, between
mouthfuls of spaghetti. Lars liked watching the way she twirled the
spaghetti on her fork, and sucked it up. ÒBut I was sure you were married,
since you were older,Ó Elaine said. ÒSo I hid my feelings, even from
myself. I tried not to like you. But the more I tried, the worse it got.
Then my dumb brother asked me to go riding and I thought, perfect! I told
myself I loved horses, even though I only really liked them. But it would
give me a chance to try to put you out of my mind. I even quit the firm,
which IÕm still doing, since IÕm going to major in communications now
instead of art.Ó She smiled at Lars. Her smile turned to a renewed blush
and she dropped her fork. ÒOh, what am I doing?Ó she said. ÒI know youÕll
hate me tomorrow if I give myself to you but I want you Lars, I really do!Ó
She made to get up from the table.
ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said in a stern voice. ÒI didnÕt give you
permission to get up from the table.Ó Elaine sank back down in her chair.
ÒYes maÕam,Ó Elaine answered.
ÒAnd donÕt feel embarrassed about your bikini,Ó Georgina added. ÒI
insisted you wear it.Ó
ÒYes, but only after I told you how much I loved your husband,Ó
Elaine countered.
Georgina, not missing a beat, twirling her own spaghetti on her
plate, replied, ÒIn fact, as I recall, I ordered you to wear it, did I not?Ó
Georgina said. ÒYou sewed it a year ago yourself for the man of your
dreams, and I told you that you absolutely must wear it. So there. And
there is something else we must settle, young lady. As for your
confession over the phone to me this weekend, reading my letters, and
looking at my husbandÕs magazines. This is conduct that I cannot permit
to go unrewarded, as they say in places of penal correction.Ó
ÒOh but I--Ó Elaine interjected.
ÒI was a young curious girl once too,Ó Georgina said. ÒWe play at
being coy and prim and proper but we do have our wild side, donÕt we? In
your case you waited until you were an intern at a prestigious law firm to
explore the darker side, the side found in menÕs magazines and such. Most
girls find out about such things at 12, donÕcha know. ItÕs called going to
the 7/11 and looking at Leonardo and then noticing all the girlie
magazines stacked on the high shelf above Leo and all his buddies.Ó Elaine
blushed.
ÒI never grabbed any of those,Ó Elaine said. There was a clearness in
her gaze, a frankness. ÒI-- I was a little spoiled Bible girl... until last
year when I met a guy and he taught me about New Age things,Ó Elaine
said.
ÒAnd you didnÕt?Ó Lars asked. Elaine blushed fiercely.
ÒNO, I didnÕt,Ó Elaine said. ÒI may be small but I decide things for
myself. He was a great kisser but not someone I wanted in my panties.Ó
ÒActually you take your panties off for--Ó Lars began.
ÒWeÕve talked,Ó Georgina told her husband. ÒShe learned a lot this
weekend, over the phone, didnÕt you dear?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Elaine said, her face becoming now a perpetual blush. ÒI still
donÕt like those magazines,Ó Elaine told Lars. ÒAll the other parts of you I
like but your magazines are DIS-gusting!Ó She began eating her spaghetti
again. Lars marvelled at her childish nature and wondered if, in fact, she
really knew what she was getting herself into, even at 19. He began to
wonder if she somehow thought that sitting there in a very skimpy bikini
was intercourse, the way she seemed so breezy and at the same time so
abashed. What a great tragedy it would be if, after eating all her dinner,
the girl got up and thanked him for deflowering her and left!
ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said, after a few minutes of blushing silence had
passed.
ÒYes?Ó the girl asked meekly. Her plate was almost empty now and
she seemed to be eating more slowly.
ÒAs for your punishment,Ó Georgina said.
ÒMy--?Ó Elaine asked.
ÒFor reading my letters and my husbandÕs magazines,Ó Georgina said.
ÒYessss?Ó Elaine asked anxiously, her breath escaping her lips in a
gasp.
ÒIt will be over my husbandÕs knee.Ó
ÒA SPANKING?!Ó Elaine asked. Alarm showed in her face.
ÒYes,Ó Georgina said.
ÒBut-- IÕve NEVER been spanked!Ó Elaine insisted.
ÒYour parents were too lenient,Ó Georgina said. And suddenly it all
came together for Lars, what the girl had in mind, what she intended.
SheÕd dreamed of a spanking and never gotten it, and he was supposed to
give her one. God knows, perhaps the spanking itself was what she
regarded, in some strange little girl way, as intercourse. Or perhaps she
had no idea what Ôlosing itÕ meant, and expected him to do something like
turn a secret knob in her body, or push a secret lever. Lars sighed.
Somehow this girl, this naive innocent child, had gotten mixed up with
himself and his wife, Ôdenizens of the dungeonÕ as they liked to call
themselves, in their nightly trysts. It was not the most appropriate
match. She needed a phallic version of Barney, and she was getting
something much worse. For Lars knew, once their little game began, in
earnest and not just as conversation at the table, that he wouldnÕt be able
to stop with a spanking. HeÕd want to see her whipped, collared, defiled,
down in the cellar where he played with his wife. And sheÕd even, in her
foolish eagerness to find out about her body (albeit a few years later than
she should have) cancelled her job with his firm. Given a little leeway,
depending on her living arrangements, he might be able to keep her for
days. Perhaps no one would miss her. HadnÕt she said she lived in a dorm,
with friends? They might be too busy to notice the shy little girl who had
slipped off on a Monday night. Surely with the body she had boys would be
longing for her, but given that sheÕd never let them have her, they wouldnÕt
hold out much hope. Lars sighed. Her friends, to the extent that they
didnÕt just regard her as a prim little (well-stacked) wallflower, might
think sheÕd gone off to a convent. Instead she was with him.
ÒI really would prefer not to be spanked,Ó Elaine said. ÒI mean,
perhaps I might need my wrist slapped or something, but to show my
BOTTOM? CanÕt your husband just Ôdo meÕ and slap my wrist, and then
weÕll say weÕre even? IÕm sorry I read your letters. ItÕs just... youÕre
married to him, and I really do have a major crush on him. The letters and
the magazines were an irresistible 411. I just couldnÕt help myself!Ó
ÒWell I am going to help myself,Ó Georgina said. ÒTo your bottom.
But first we must have dessert. Would you like cherry or apple pie?Ó
ÒCherry,Ó Elaine said. Then she frowned and said, ÒNo, apple.Ó
ÒWhichever,Ó Georgina said. ÒAnd you, Lars?Ó
ÒUh, cherryÕs fine,Ó Lars answered. Georgina smiled.
ÒIÕm sure it is,Ó she said. She got up from the table. Elaine, perhaps
due to good training from her mother, got up from the table also. Lars
watched the girlÕs breasts as she leaped up. They wiggled, nearly spilling
from her small brassiere, the tiny cups somehow miraculously holding her
nipples under the fabric. ÒWhere are you going?Ó Georgina asked the girl.
ÒIÕm going to help you take the dishes to the kitchen,Ó Elaine said.
ÒAlright,Ó Georgina answered. LarsÕ eyes followed the girlÕs every
move as she picked up the plates. Her titties jiggled, her ass moved like a
greased ball. Proudly Elaine carried the plates, the confident jut of her
bosom rising and falling above the dishes she carried. Her ass had an easy
sway to it. With each movement of her bottom Lars prayed that the
pantied triangle half-covering her behind would slip into her ass crack.
But, like the bra holding her bosoms, the panties were tied with a nunÕs
tightness. The fabric was simply pulled too taut for her breasts to
escape, or for her ass to show more of itself than it already was. Despite
her eagerness to Ôlose itÕ, as Elaine proclaimed, she seemed unnervingly
chaste. Lars sighed. The girl was a sight to behold but she was, at the
same time, a painful tease. He could feel himself swelling in his pants
and yet he wondered if he would get what he wanted this evening. And
what did he want? an inner voice asked. Lars fought back the voice of his
conscience. He wanted to fuck this girl, this tender flower, and much
more. Yet it would not happen without the consent of his wife. At least
not tonight it wouldnÕt. And LarsÕ wife was being a flirt in her own right,
prolonging their dinner with mindless chatter, insisting upon dessert.
Lars wondered, with a sinking feeling, if Georgina might not be using the
girl simply to make him hot. Then, when she had him mindlessly stiff, she
might put Elaine back into her clothes and her yellow rain slicker, and
dismiss her into the night.
ÒHereÕs your pie, sir,Ó Elaine called out to Lars. Lars turned. The
girl was returning from the kitchen. Above a warm slice of pie, carried on
a fine china plate, the girlÕs breasts hovered. Her bra still clasped her,
denying Lars a view of her nipples, teasing him with the fullness of her
naked tit flesh and yet keeping from his view her lovely red tips. The girl
placed the pie before Lars. He smelled cherries. As he looked at the pie he
considered ripping her bra off, Elaine was so deliciously and unnervingly
close. But then he heard his wife coming out from the kitchen.
ÒElaine, would you like whipped cream on your pie?Ó Georgina called.
ÒYes, please,Ó Elaine answered.
ÒAlright,Ó Georgina said. She approached the table, deftly balancing
both her pie and ElaineÕs in her hands, a can of Redi-Wip under her arm.
Elaine went to her own place at the table. She slipped her hands across
her behind, as if to smooth her skirt before sitting down. Then she
blushed, realizing she wasnÕt wearing a skirt, but only a pair of very brief
swim panties. She sat down. Georgina placed her pie before her. Elaine
smiled. Her eyes widened as Georgina shook the whipped cream and aimed
it and squirted it all over ElaineÕs slice of pie. Lars, watching, felt an
urgent need in his pants. If only he could squirt himself like the can did.
He swallowed, hard. Elaine, taking a fork primly in her hand, began to eat.
ÒYum! ItÕs good!Ó Elaine declared, chewing and swallowing her pie.
ÒThatÕs nice,Ó Georgina said. She sat down at her own place and,
after applying the Redi-Wip to her pie, she began to eat. She looked at her
husband. ÒLars,Ó she said. ÒYou havenÕt touched yours.Ó
Lars cleared his throat. He had been staring at Elaine, watching the
bounce and sway of her breasts as she brought forkfuls of pie, dripping
with whipped cream, to her mouth.
ÒOh. Yeah,Ó Lars said. He began to eat. His erection was killing him.
More and more he began to suspect that this whole thing was a charade,
something designed by his wife. Perhaps the ever-virginal Elaine had
never looked at his magazines, but had only been told to say that, by his
wife. Perhaps she had no intention of Ôlosing itÕ, as she said, but was only
being asked by his wife to say it, in order to incite Lars. Well, he was
incited all right. He was about to tear the clothes off both women and
fuck out their brains. But he couldnÕt, not with his wife being a doctor. He
would never sleep peacefully if he truly pissed off his wife. She knew
surgery. HeÕd risk waking up without his balls if he made her angry.
And so Lars sweated, there at the dinner table, sensing his wife was
secretly laughing at him as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. As for
Elaine, she was childishly oblivious to the effect she was having on him.
She even asked for seconds, and Georgina, infuriatingly for Lars, brought
the girl more pie, squirting it again with whipped cream and making Lars
nearly sperm in his pants. Desperately he watched little Elaine, eating her
pie, make her mouth all ringed with white gooey cream.
ÒWell, that was a pleasant dessert,Ó Georgina announced when they
had finished. Elaine smiled. Then her face, as she wiped her mouth, took
on a worried look.
ÒMust I be spanked now?Ó Elaine asked Georgina.
ÒYes,Ó Lars wife answered. ÒBut first we must decide where it will
be done. Will it be here, at the dinner table, or upstairs in our bedroom?
Or downstairs in the basement?Ó She cast Lars a knowing glance.
ÒWhatever will get it over with quickest,Ó Elaine said.
ÒOh, are you in a hurry?Ó Georgina said to the girl.
ÒNo-- I mean, yes, I--Ó Elaine looked confused.
Georgina brushed back her blonde hair. It was pinned in a bun but
several loose strands had fallen close to her eyes as she ate her pie. She
looked at the girl. Concern showed on her face. ÒWell, you have never been
spanked,Ó Georgina said to Elaine. ÒSo I must tell you a little about it. A
quick spanking would be very hard on your bottom, especially for a novice.
But a long, slow spanking, with the spanks spaced out over several hours,
would be easier to bear, although it would take longer. Your behind would
have time to recover between the blows, you see? It is early yet. You
could have a long spanking and it would not matter, you would still get
home at a decent hour.Ó
ÒOh.Ó Elaine said. She put a finger to her long brown hair, her hair
that she wore loose and free, and twirled it, much as she had twirled the
spaghetti around her fork.
ÒBut if she is to Ôlose itÕ?Ó Lars asked. His voice was strained,
hesitant yet urgent, his dick killing him in his pants.
ÒIf she is to lose it she must stay the night,Ó Georgina agreed.
ÒOh!Ó Elaine said again, this exclamation bursting from her with a
childÕs distress, as if being told for the first time that Santa was just her
father, not a real man at the North Pole.Ó Gently Georgina asked,
ÒCan you spend the night?Ó ElaineÕs eyes grew wide.
ÒI- I suppose so, if it is absolutely necessary,Ó she said. Georgina
smiled.
ÒThen we have plenty of time for your spanking,Ó Georgina said.
ÒCome here. I want to see how pretty you look in your little panties
before we have to take them off.Ó
With a nervous step, Elaine walked round the front of the dinner
table, past Lars at the head of the table, to Georgina. The woman pushed
back her chair. Lars did also, and watched as Georgina took hold of the
girl round her hips. She seemed to weigh the girl, grasping her naked hips
and judging her, then she slipped her hands lower to where ElaineÕs swim
panties rode. Slowly she undid the ties of the girlÕs panties. Elaine,
staring down over her breasts, watched. The ties came undone. From
behind, Lars saw the swim panties sag. The small triangle of nylon
covering the lowest part of ElaineÕs bottom gave way. The taut flesh was
exposed. It was smooth and round like a ball. Like twin balls, jammed
together as ElaineÕs bottom tensed.
ÒYes,Ó Georgina said, revealing the lowermost part of the girlÕs neat
bush in front.
ÒYou can see my pussy,Ó Elaine commented.
ÒIt is a very sweet little delta,Ó Georgina agreed.
ÒI never showed myself like this before,Ó Elaine sighed. Her breath
was hot against GeorginaÕs face. The woman looked up. Simultaneously
she drew ElaineÕs panties out from between her thighs. She folded them.
She slipped them into her blouse, tucking them into her bra.
ÒWhy did you do that?Ó Elaine asked.
ÒBecause I donÕt want you wearing them any more tonight,Ó Georgina
said. ÒNow let me turn you around, so i can see your ass.Ó
Primly, Elaine turned. GeorginaÕs eyes fell to the girlÕs ass while
Lars, for the first time, was able to view her mons.
ÒOh it is so nice and white. And dimpled!Ó Georgina remarked. Elaine
tensed as the woman put a finger to the cheeks of her ass, feeling the
dimples. Meanwhile Lars had a mouth-watering view of the girlÕs bush. He
wanted to jam himself in there, splitting her legs and her nether lips,
forcing himself up her and making her take him all the way to the root of
himself. GeorginaÕs eyes looked past the girl at her husband. They
exchanged glances. Lars felt a sudden sense of relief, combined with a
newfound tension, as he realized his wife would let him have the girl
after all. In fact, she wanted her downstairs, the same as he did.
ÒElaine,Ó Georgina said, stroking the girlÕs bottom now, feeling its
rondure, making Elaine quiver and tense herself more, ÒMy husband and I
have some things in the basement. Like you saw in the magazines. We
would like to show them to you but we donÕt wish to frighten you. Would
you like to come downstairs?Ó
Elaine shivered. She felt the womanÕs hands cup her cheeks. To her
heartbeating surprise, she felt LarÕs wife pull her behind open, as if gently
splitting a peach.
ÒOh! But what about my spanking?Ó Elaine asked. Then, a moment
later, she blurted, ÒYou are making me feel air in my ass crack!Ó
ÒYes, you have a very lovely ass,Ó LarsÕ wife replied. She fought the
squeezing of the girlÕs hinds as Elaine tried to draw herself back together.
ÒRelax, dear,Ó Georgina said. ÒHave you ever had anything put up you back
here?Ó
ÒIn my BOTTOM?Ó Elaine gasped. ÒNo!Ó she shouted. Her voice was
anxiously high in pitch, like a little girl slipping and falling down on her
ass.
ÒYes, in your little fanny,Ó Georgina laughed. She released the girlÕs
cheeks. They sprang together, the twin halves pressing close, like lovers
kissing. ÒWell, we shall discuss such things later,Ó Georgina said. ÒCome
downstairs with myself and my husband. And please donÕt be scared. We
only wish to show you some things, thatÕs all.Ó
Georgina rose from her chair. She took ElaineÕs hand. The brunette
looked up at her with large, wide eyes, still wearing her teensy bra, her
pubis bared to LarsÕ view. Together they walked past the man. He jumped
up and followed. Elaine looked over her shoulder. She saw Lars and where
he was looking. Not at his wife, or even into ElaineÕs eyes, but right at her
naked behind, wiggling and swaying and shaking tensely as she walked.
ÒOh! Your husband is looking at me!Ó Elaine told Georgina.
ÒHe will be spanking you soon,Ó Georgina replied. She squeezed the
girlÕs hand, as if fearing she might escape.
ÒOh but I thought you would do it!Ó Elaine quailed.
ÒHereÕs the door, just around this corner,Ó Georgina replied, drawing
Elaine out of the dining room and into the hall. Lars followed, Elaine
giving him another look, a rabbit fleeing the fox.
Georgina opened the door to the basement. She drew Elaine with her
onto the topmost step. She turned on a light. With exaggerated curiosity,
Elaine craned her neck and looked down the stairs.
ÒOh. So you do wish to see,Ó Georgina said to the girl.
ÒNo! I just--Ó Elaine answered. Georgina pulled her down the stairs,
the girl following in her stiletto heels, taking the stairs carefully but
with a spring to her step, a kind of watchful eagerness. Georgina wore
modest heels, reminiscent of the common-sense heels that women wear to
work.
Together, with Lars coming down the stairs behind them, the two
women reached the cellar. A gasp arose from ElaineÕs lips. She gazed at a
panoply of dark-covered objects. She could not make out what the things
were, but the blackness of the sheets covering them were ominous.
ÒShall we have a look?Ó Georgina asked the girl. She held her hand
tightly.
ÒOh. Alright,Ó Elaine said. Lars reached the base of the stairs. The
two women regarded him.
ÒAnd shall you have a look too, sir?Ó Georgina said to her husband.
ÒI suppose so,Ó Lars answered. He tried not to grin too hard.
ÒOh my!Ó Elaine breathed, when Georgina, walking up to the first
object, pulled off its shroud. Beneath was a cage. It was too small to
stand up in, rising just to ElaineÕs waist. It had a bowl in it, and a blanket
covered its floor.
ÒIs this a dog cage?Ó Elaine asked.
ÒIt could be used that way,Ó Georgina smiled. ÒWould you care to try
it?Ó
ÒTry it?Ó Elaine gasped. ÒBut IÕm not a doggie.Ó
Georgina bent down and pulled open the latch on the cage. A lock
hung nearby, on a cross-beam stretching across the bars.
ÒGet in,Ó Georgina said to Elaine.
ÒBut I--Ó Elaine cried.
ÒIN!Ó Georgina said. She took hold of the girl by her shoulders. She
forced her down to her knees. Elaine resisted, but only with half her
strength. When she was on her knees, her lovely ass sticking up in the air,
she looked into the cage.
ÒOooo, itÕs almost like a small cage that dogs sit in to ride on an
airplane,Ó Elaine remarked. ÒBut a little bigger. Just big enough for me, I
think.Ó She crawled forward. She went into the cage, like a mouse
exploring. Georgina closed the cage door behind her. She took the lock off
the cross-bar and put it into the latch on the door. She turned to her
husband.
ÒYou have a key for this?Ó she asked.
ÒSure,Ó Lars answered. ÒI keep it on my key ring, with all my other
keys. Car, house, office...Ó
ÒGood,Ó Georgina said. She snapped shut the lock.
ÒOooooh! DonÕt lock me in!Ó Elaine walked. She turned around in the
small crawl-space of the cage. She put her face to the bars. She gripped
them with her hands.
ÒYou will remain there until itÕs time for your spanking,Ó Georgina
informed the girl. ÒAnd, in the meantime, youÕll learn from watching my
husband and I.Ó She turned to Lars. ÒYour penis, sir. Take it out. I have
need of it.Ó
30
----------------------
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BOUND FOR PLEASURE
Chapter One
ÒThere will be a party this evening, Claire. I should wish for you to
attend,Ó Aunt Elizabeth called from the kitchen. A moment later she
brushed through the curtain of glass beads that separated the kitchen from
the living room. Her niece, Claire, sat hunched on the sofa. She was
watching T.V. Mandy Moore blared from the set. Next to Claire, on the
cushions of the sofa beside her, there was a plate of Oreo cookies. Claire
was unscrewing a cookie. She looked up. As she did, she put half of the
cookie to her mouth, holding the other half in her other hand. She licked
off the cream.
ÒBut we just got home from the zoo,Ó Claire said, cream on her
tongue and her lips and her teeth. Her voice was a whine. She wasnÕt
really tired, though, just hot, her aunt surmised.
ÒWe got in an hour ago,Ó Aunt Elizabeth told Claire. ÒI told you to
bathe so youÕd be fresh. Now youÕre still feeling hot, and youÕre stuffing
yourself with sugar.Ó Aunt Elizabeth looked at ClaireÕs clothes. Her eyes
were disapproving, and her niece knew it. The girlÕs Calvin Klein jeans
were ripped at the knees. Not from overuse, they had just been bought
yesterday, but because Claire had taken a scissors to them. She had taken
the same scissors to her top. It was cut just below the breasts, baring
her soft childÕs belly. Her growing tits pushed teasingly on the fabric of
her shirt so that her boobs looked like they might thrust through it. She
wore no shoes. The soles of her feet were black.
ÒI swear, you are turning into a little tramp!Ó Aunt Elizabeth told
Claire. She walked over to the sofa. Claire, thinking Aunt Elizabeth was
going to stop her from eating, scooped up the plate of Oreos and put them
on her knees. But Aunt Elizabeth reached for the T.V. remote control, on
the sofa next to the spot where the cookies had been. She aimed it.
ÒNo! ThatÕs Mandy Moore!Ó Claire shrieked. The T.V. went black.
As Claire remonstrated, her voice high like that of a mouse with its
tail stepped-on, Elizabeth shook her head. The girl was 14. At eight she
might have been forgiven such self-centered, indulgent behavior, but she
was almost a woman now. Her body had curves; her legs, still long,
werenÕt skinny like toothpicks any more. She was young and beautiful, but
she still had the spoiled disposition of a child. Worse, there were boys
next door, and Claire, when she wasnÕt indulging herself, had been flirting
with them. Elizabeth had inside knowledge on the boys. One had V.D., two
had the clap. All three had herpes. She had learned about them from a
nurse who worked at the collegeÕs health clinic where she taught. Aunt
Elizabeth knew, even if Claire, didnÕt, what would happen if she left her
alone in the house. SheÕd come home to find the girl not only deflowered,
but diseased as well. She had a responsibility to ClaireÕs mother not to
let that happen. The girl had been sent to her for the summer, against her
wishes, but she wasnÕt sending her back with diseases.
ÒAunt Elizabeth, just because youÕre a college professor doesnÕt
mean you can boss me around,Ó Claire protested. She put another Oreo to
her mouth. She licked off the cream. Then, the cream showing on her lips,
she continued. ÒAnyways, youÕre not that much older than me. YouÕre only
24. So thatÕs only 10 years. I think IÕm entitled to do what I want.Ó
The older woman let the girlÕs voice prattle on as she remembered
her conversation with ClaireÕs mother. It was two weeks ago, school was
just out. Claire had a new boyfriend, and this time it looked to be serious.
The guy was okay, a handsome enough fellow, but he was also the local
drug dealer.
ÒI know what he wants,Ó ClaireÕs mother, Jane, told Elizabeth.
ÒOh yes,Ó Elizabeth answered, sipping tea in the womanÕs parlor.
ÒHe wants your daughter for her mind.Ó
ÒSheÕs old enough,Ó Jane continued, ignoring ElizabethÕs humor. ÒI
mean, I did it at that age. But this guy, heÕll do more than just take her.Ó
Jane looked exasperated.
ÒAnd?Ó Elizabeth asked.
ÒI donÕt want her doing drugs,Ó Jane replied. ÒSex, but not drugs.Ó
Loud music blared from the living room. It had been Mandy Moore on the CD
player that day, not the T.V. ÒTurn that down!Ó Jane yelled.
ÒAnd rock and roll,Ó Elizabeth cooed, sipping her tea again, very glad
she didnÕt have a daughter of her own.
ÒThatÕs why I want you to take her,Ó Jane said, turning again to the
woman. Elizabeth, so calm a moment before, nearly spluttered out her tea
onto the parlorÕs carpet.
ÒMe?!Ó Elizabeth asked.
ÒYes,Ó Jane answered. Elizabeth waved her cup in the air.
ÒNo! No!Ó Elizabeth said, moving her arm expansively as if to ward
off evil spirts. ÒWerenÕt you listening?Ó she asked. ÒA moment ago I just
got through telling you about the new friends IÕve made. We meet every
Saturday and we dress up and we...Ó her voice trailed off. She blushed, as
she had been blushing minutes ago, before she managed to compose herself
and let Jane talk of her niece. Now the redness was back in her cheeks,
and her breezy manner, so newly acquired, was gone.
It was JaneÕs turn to look composed and to sip from her tea.
ÒI know,Ó Jane said. ÒMy husband and I used to go to such things.
Before we had Claire. If our group was still meeting IÕd have a mind to
take Claire along.Ó ElizabethÕs eyes widened.
ÒYou would?Ó she asked.
ÒYes,Ó Jane said. ÒSheÕs going to lose it. Why not with someone I
approve of?Ó
ElizabethÕs eyes wandered. Her blush deepened. She held her cup as
still as she could, but it shivered in her hand. ÒPerhaps things have
changed,Ó she whispered. When her eyes met JaneÕs, after a moment of
trying to avoid them, she said, ÒOne knows roughly who will show up but
not to the letter.Ó
ÒYou mean she might be had by a stranger,Ó Jane said.
ÒYes,Ó Elizabeth answered. The word sprang from her lips, as if to
catch Jane and force her to listen. ÒA- A stranger! So itÕs quite
impossible.Ó Jane frowned.
ÒBut they are all tested beforehand?Ó she asked. She knew her
younger sister to be a cautious woman.
ÒB- Beforehand, yes, but--Ó Elizabeth said, still feeling awkward
and nervous, her cup shaking more in her hand than before.
ÒItÕs settled, then,Ó Jane said. She turned again in her chair and
yelled once more for Claire, in the next room, to turn down her CD.
ÒWhatÕs settled?Ó Elizabeth asked.
ÒShe will spend the summer with you,Ó Jane answered. ÒTake her to
your events. See that she meets someone nice. Someone I would approve
of. When she returns she will perhaps be a little older and wiser. Wise
enough, I should hope, to listen to softer music, and to not fall into bed
with the first drug dealer she meets.Ó
ÒHe is a high school boy,Ó Elizabeth blurted, suddenly finding herself
in the disquieting position of defending a drug dealer.
Jane sipped her tea. Her eyes were clear. They showed a kind of
resigned determination. Her lips quivered slightly as she drank, but her
words were composed when she spoke: ÒBetter a devil you know, than a
devil I donÕt want to know,Ó Jane said. ÒIÕm not about to have our
neighborhoodÕs first crack baby.Ó
ÒBut the men are older,Ó Elizabeth said. She felt as if she were
grasping at straws, slipping down a bank in wet mud.
ÒWhat? Successful young business men?Ó Jane asked. Elizabeth
nodded. ÒSo IÕm supposed to be afraid of them?Ó Jane said.
ÒBut perhaps as old as forty,Ó Elizabeth countered.
ÒIt is no matter,Ó Jane said. ÒMy husband was forty when I met him.
I helped you get your degree, my dear, and you promised to pay me back.Ó
ÒYes, but--Ó Elizabeth protested. Jane put down her cup.
ÒItÕs settled,Ó Jane said.
And so it was, and now it was Saturday. And after two weeks of
skipping the parties, unwilling to take Claire along, Aunt Elizabeth had
decided to yield. She would take the girl. She was eager to see her
friends again, at the party, and she could not leave Claire alone in the
house. Aunt Elizabeth reached down. She picked up ClaireÕs cookies. The
girl groped after them, whining.
ÒAuntie!Ó Claire cried.
ÒTo the bath tub, young lady,Ó Elizabeth answered. ÒWeÕre going out
tonight, you and I.Ó
ÒIÕm not hungry,Ó Claire pouted. Thinking her Aunt planned to take
her to dinner, she added, ÒI donÕt want to get fat.Ó
ÒOh, Miss Oreo?Ó Elizabeth asked. She turned with the cookies,
holding the plate in her hands. She walked toward the kitchen.
ÒWe wonÕt be eating, except perhaps canapes,Ó Elizabeth called. ÒIÕll
give you one of my pills before we go.Ó
It was half an hour later that Claire found herself wrapped in a
towel, wet from her bath, standing in her auntÕs bathroom on a soft fuzzy
floor mat. She regarded her aunt. The woman held a white pill in one
hand, a glass of water in the other.
ÒOpen your mouth,Ó Elizabeth told Claire. The girl blanched.
ÒI donÕt wanna,Ó Claire answered, parting her lips to say it. Her aunt
saw the opportunity and deftly pressed the pill between ClaireÕs lips.
Then, before the girl could spit it out, she put the water glass to her
mouth. She forced Claire to drink. The girl did not resist with all her
strength. She was 14, she might have refused, but she did not, and after
sheÕd swallowed the pill down, reluctantly, she asked,
ÒWhat was that for?Ó
ÒYou have no idea?Ó Elizabeth asked. Her voice was solemn.
ÒI-- well, I--Ó Claire blushed. Elizabeth lifted her hand from the
girlÕs lips to her her forehead. She brushed back wet strands of blonde
hair. The girlÕs skin was white. Her eyes shone in her face like jewels in
an ivory Egyptian mask. She had beautiful eyes, Elizabeth remarked to
herself. All blue and glittery, fairy eyes. Elizabeth kissed the girlÕs lips.
ÒMmmmf!Ó Claire protested. Elizabeth ignored her objection. Lifting
her lips from the girlÕs, she said,
ÒWe must get you a costume. What would you like to be? IÕm handy
at making things. A princess? An elf?Ó Claire, not knowing why a
costume was needed, thought a moment, and then said,
ÒIÕd like to be an airline stewardess!Ó
ÒVery well,Ó Elizabeth answered.
ÒBut why would I want a costume?Ó Claire blurted. Elizabeth pushed
the girlÕs hair back off her shoulders. They were small, white. Frail bones
covered with ivory skin. Her hair was finespun wet gold.
ÒBecause we all must be something,Ó Elizabeth said. She smiled. ÒI
will be a dark-haired gypsy, and you will be a new stew. Perfect!Ó She
pecked the girl on the cheek.
Forty-five minutes later the two women left the house. Elizabeth
wore a gypsy scarf around her head. It was multi-hued, the colors as
diverse as the rainbow but all in dark shades. Her brown hair was pinned
up inside it. Cheap gold colored earrings dangled from her ears. There
was glitter on her eyelids, silver and gold and rubies, little specks of
color that gave her made-up eyes an ethereal sparkle. ElizabethÕs cheeks
were rouged. They made her look like a cheap whore, or a female swindler,
and she didnÕt care which way the look was taken. There was a collar
around her neck. It was black leather, with silver studs and a buckle. Her
neck looked thin and fragile in it, as if it might be broken by it. And then
there was her dress. The top was tight, clinging to her cleavage, skin-
tight, her breasts moving and shaking within the fabric to show she wore
no bra. Lower down, her dress was cut away to show her belly. Her skin
was smooth and soft, tanned, her navel a perfect little dimple. Below the
flatness of her belly her skirts billowed. They were multi-hued like her
scarf, dark-shaded. Beneath the hem of her skirt her boots flashed, black
leather infrequently seen due to the length of her dress. She wore long
sleeves. Black leather gloves clad her hands.
Beside her walked Claire. The girl was primly dressed, as if ready
to attend to passengers on an airline. She wore a neat little blue cap on
her head. It had no bill, but was softly rounded, her hair tied in a ponytail
and streaming out under its back. Around her throat Claire wore a white
collar, the collar of her blouse. The blouse was mostly unseen due to a
long-sleeved blue jacket Claire wore. A mod tie hung down from her
throat, tied at the front of her blouse. The tie was a swirl of patterned
flower designs, light blue against a light grey background. ClaireÕs hands
were bare. Her face was without makeup, though she had wanted some.
Elizabeth told her she looked prettiest just as she was. The woman also
wanted no man to be mistaken about ClaireÕs youth. They would be easier
on her if they could see she was still a child.
Claire wore a modest blue skirt and dark, transparent stockings.
Under her dress garters held the stockings aloft. On her feet she wore
polished black shoes. They were new, unscuffed. Elizabeth had bought
them for her the previous week but the girl, in her torn jeans, had stuck to
her bare feet and sneakers. Now, however, she was enjoying playing
Òdress up,Ó as her aunt described it to her. She held her auntÕs hand as
they walked to ElizabethÕs new white convertible.
They streaked through the night, Elizabeth at the wheel. Claire held
her cap in her lap so the wind wouldnÕt blow it off. The scarf on
ElizabethÕs head clung to her hair. It was tied tightly enough so that the
wind only ruffled it.
At a warm-looking house, the windows lit up but the curtains drawn,
Elizabeth parked along the curb. There were several other cars. Two were
in the driveway and three more in the street, one in front of her and two
behind her.
ÒWell, here we are,Ó Elizabeth said brightly. It had been a fifteen
minute ride. She looked in the convertibleÕs rear-view mirror. She
straightened her scarf on her head. Claire put on her cap. Then the two
young women got out of the car and, taking hands again, they went up a
walkway to the house.
They were received by a woman who looked about 30. She smiled at
them. She was dressed as a nurse, albeit with a shorter skirt than that
seen in hospitals, and patent leather white boots. Her name was Paige.
She knew Elizabeth by name but Claire she did not know. Elizabeth
introduced her.
ÒThis is my niece,Ó Elizabeth told the woman. ÒIÕve brought her
along tonight. I hope itÕs okay.Ó Paige frowned.
ÒWe do not have child care,Ó Paige said.
ÒI brought her to be in the party,Ó Elizabeth said. The womanÕs
frown softened a little, but lingered.
ÒShe is not 18?Ó Paige asked.
ÒNo,Ó Elizabeth said.
ÒIÕm fourteen!Ó Claire said proudly. She stuck out her chest.
Elizabeth wondered if sheÕd try holding up fingers to show her age but
fortunately she did not. PaigeÕs frown remained.
ÒYou have not been here in awhile, and you are new in any event,Ó
Paige explained to Elizabeth. ÒWe are adding a new twist tonight.Ó She
leaned forward. She whispered in ElizabethÕs ear. Claire saw her auntÕs
eyes widen.
ÒBut-- why?Ó Elizabeth asked.
ÒOne of the men read about it and suggested it,Ó Paige said.
ÒTheyÕve spent all week getting the things together.Ó Paige tugged at her
too-short skirt and continued, her voice suddenly quavering, ÒI must
admit, it gives me the willies. But the men are determined. So you see,
for a child like... Sarah, was it?Ó
ÒClaire,Ó Claire corrected.
ÒYes, Claire,Ó Paige said. ÒFor a girl like her to start on a night like
tonight, especially considering her age...Ó
It was ElizabethÕs turn to tug at her skirts. ÒI will vouch for her,Ó
Elizabeth said. ÒIÕm sure the men wonÕt be too hard on us. They can go
easy on her just as IÕm sure theyÕll go easy on us.Ó
Claire was watching all this with a sense of wonder, her big blue
eyes like lanterns guiding ships in the night. Her lips, slightly parted,
showed the wetness of her tongue within. It slithered out and wet her
lips.
ÒThere must be no misunderstandings, then,Ó Paige said, after
whispering again to Elizabeth and seeing the woman nod in assent. She
turned to Claire. ÒMy dear Sarah,Ó she said. Claire opened her lips to
speak but, feeling a certain mesmerism in the older womanÕs voice, she
said nothing. ÒDear Sarah,Ó Paige said again, not noticing her mistake.
ÒThere will be much frivolity tonight. You have a very pretty costume.Ó
ÒThank you, maÕam,Ó Claire replied.
ÒBut you must understand that you will not be wearing it all night,Ó
Paige said. ClaireÕs face showed surprise.
ÒOh, will someone else be wearing it?Ó the girl asked.
ÒNo, of course not. YouÕre the littlest here and itÕs made to fit you,Ó
Paige answered.
ÒOh, but I donÕt want to take another bath,Ó Claire protested.
Anxiously she looked at her aunt. Elizabeth blushed. Paige cleared her
throat, a high nervous cough, and, steeling herself, continued.
ÒMy dear Sarah it is not for a bath that you will be disrobing,Ó Paige
said. There was a sudden sweat visible on the tip of her nose. Her
perfume, some variant of Gucci, grew stronger in the air. Elizabeth,
standing beside the girl, anxiously shifted her her slender-boned weight
within the confines of her boots. ÒIt will be for having your belly filled,Ó
Paige told Claire. ÒDo you see what I mean?Ó
ÒIÕm full. I ate Oreos,Ó Claire answered matter-of-factly.
Soon, slightly more informed but perhaps still somewhat misguided,
Claire took her place among the guests of the party. There were whoops of
appreciation as she entered a room at the back of the house with her aunt.
It was a room with several chairs and a sofa. The floor was deep-piled
carpet. The walls were papered with patterns of daisies. Their yellow
hue was reflected in the carpet, though the carpetÕs yellow was paler.
Claire saw a sideboard. Someone had pulled open its glass doors. Whiskey
and rum and the odd wine bottle stood inside, visible through the glass or
in the opening of the pulled open doors. A man wearing a grey pinstriped
suit lifted aloft a glass.
ÒTo Liz,Ó he called out.
ÒAnd to her friend,Ó a second man added. Claire blushed, as did
Elizabeth. The men drank down their toast and then came forward. Other
men, and several women, gathered around the two females. They were all
in costume: one was a fireman, another a coach, a third, a woman in a
purple dress, looked like a royal princess.
ÒWill she be partying with us tonight?Ó the princess asked. Her
name was LeeAnn.
ÒYes,Ó Elizabeth answered. Her voice was nervous.
ÒShe is so young,Ó LeeAnn commented.
ÒIÕm fourteen,Ó Claire replied.
ÒLet me kiss you then, if you are that old,Ó LeeAnn said. She was
blonde, like Claire, and as she leaned forward, putting her lips to the
girlÕs, leaning down and hugging her, a man, the fireman, lifted up the back
of ClaireÕs skirt.
ÒOh please not so fast,Ó Elizabeth said, a squeak coming from Claire
as she felt the backs of her stockinged thighs and her pantied bottom
exposed. LeeAnnÕs lips squelched her cry.
ÒGod, what a perfect little ass!Ó the fireman said. A second man, the
coach, leaned in next to him, joining him in the view.
ÒA nice, fat, little round ass,Ó the coach agreed. ÒAnd such nice
panties. IÕm a sucker for little girl panties.Ó
ÒSo clean and white,Ó the fireman agreed. ÒThey donÕt really match
her black stockings, though. LetÕs have them off her.Ó
ÒWell,Ó the coach said, ÒI really donÕt think we should. When I was
driving over here I found myself behind a city bus. And a sign board on the
back of it said, ÔShe looked 18 is no excuse.Õ And then it went on to say,
ÔSex with a minor is a crime.Õ
ÒGood God, youÕre right!Ó the fireman said. ÒAnd with this girlÕs
chubby, childish cheeks, she barely looks 14, let alone 18.Ó
ÒExcept for her tits,Ó the coach said. ÒThose big tits of hers make
her look 18.Ó
ÒSo, we could say, ÔHer tits looked 18.ÕÓ
ÒRight,Ó the coach said. ÒExcept for her bottom. ThatÕs still such a
small, little girlÕs bottom. I guess all her extra fat is going into her tits.Ó
ÒIt happens sometimes, with growing girls,Ó the fireman agreed. ÒI
really donÕt think we should have sex with her. Remember what Caesar
said, ÔI came, I saw, I saw someone could get hurt if there was a battle,
and so I went home.ÕÓ
ÒRight!Ó the coach agreed. ÒAnd remember what Jesus said, ÔHealing
on the Sabbath day is illegal, and I wouldnÕt want to break the law.ÕÓ
ÒAnd George Washington, remember him?Ó the fireman said. ÒI
quote: ÔI wouldnÕt want to have an American Revolution. That would be
breaking the law.ÕÓ
ÒWell, we better not have anything to do with her then,Ó the coach
said. ÒSheÕs a minor. And, now that I think about it, her aunt looks pretty
young too. I think IÕll go to the liquor store instead, and buy Penthouse,
and go home and jerk off.Ó
ÒGood idea!Ó the fireman said. ÒWeÕll jerk off together.Ó
And so all the men went home, except for the coach and the fireman,
who went home together. The women, having nobody to party with, went
home also.
THE END of this particular story
This story has been funded by the Feminist Alliance for Obedient
males, a tax-funded foundation promoting feminist values to the
Internet community. For comments, or to receive a grant for your own
stories, e-mail: selloutstories@wimp.net
---------------------
Song of the Cane
Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being a Sex Offender
Chapter One
He was waiting for the company driver. He checked his watch. It
was late; why couldnÕt the driver ever pick him up on time? He gazed
down along the street. The traffic was thick. He saw a cab coming, a red
cab. Perhaps he should just ditch the company car and take a cab instead,
he mused. Would the company mind? He was a new executive; he wasnÕt
sure how theyÕd feel about it. And then, suddenly, he saw something that
made him completely forget the driver, the company car, or the red cab.
Even with her clothes on, he could tell she was a catch. Her breasts
preceeded her, big round slumbrous tits that were made for giving milk,
filling big bucketfuls, he thought, like a prize heifer at a farm show.
Below her tits was a trim little waist. It was as small and delicate as
her tits were large. He watched her in awe, gazing at her as she crossed
the street, savoring the way her hips moved, wondering why the top half
of her body didnÕt simply snap off from the bottom half. Her tits bounced
as she walked. She was wearing a bra, he could tell, but her breasts
moved with a heavy grace anyway, obviously straining the brasseire. Over
her bra she wore a blouse, over that a vest, both buttoned, but her breasts
jutted forth anyway, too big to hold back, like gorgeous cowÕs udders.
They seemed heavy enough to break her back, snapping her right in half at
her tiny waist. Her hips, broad and full and sensuously mobile, looked as
if they might move out from under her, simply walking away from her, too
wiggly for her top half to restrain them, especially with her tiny waist
serving as mediator between her tits and her hips.
She spotted him. He saw this as he lifted his face from her breasts.
To his embarrassed surprise he realized that he had not even looked at her
face until after examining every inch of her body. And she knew! He could
tell by the gleam in her eyes that she knew what heÕd done, going over her
with his eyes, stripping her of her clothes and relishing her charms
underneath. To get back at him, as she approached him now, along the
sidewalk, she let her eyes drift down to his chest. Then down to his
crotch. They lingered there, and as he stared at her, staring at him, he
felt himself grow turgid. His pants filled in front, under his belt. She
watched as he made a fool of himself, with traffic roaring by, and
pedestrians threading past him, getting an erection at lunch hour on 8th
Street.
ÒHello,Ó she said, coming up to him. He caught his breath.
ÒHello,Ó he answered. He stammered a little, feeling himself
proudly displayed down under his belt, albeit with his underpants binding
him so tightly he could scream.
As if the vision in front of him were not enough to spoil a perfectly
good pair of Jockeys, a second female suddenly hove into view. She was
perhaps a year or two younger; petite, with high pert breasts that were a
magnificent handful but nothing in comparison to what jutted before him.
Jed looked at the younger girl, with her bright smile and cherubic face, not
really noticing her face but rather her breasts, and then the breasts of her
companion, awed by both, contrasting them, comparing them. The younger
girl looked down.
ÒOh! He is aroused,Ó she said with frank honesty. Jed grew red-
faced.
ÒExcuse me. I really must--Ó Jed said. The woman with the big
heifer tits, a redhead, reached out her hand. Its manicured nails touched
Jed lightly. On his shoulder, but the electric shock he felt carried itself
straight to his dick. For as her slender-fingered hand restrained him ever
so lightly, she said one simple word.
ÒNo.Ó The word was spoken softly, almost whisper-like. But Jed,
whose eyes had been somehow drawn to hers, despite the prominence of
her breasts, saw a sharp fire in them. Her eyes seemed to dare him to
contradict her.
The next thing Jed knew he was sitting in a cafe with the two
women, not touching a drink they had ordered for him. Or had he ordered
the drinks, one for him and one each for the women? He couldnÕt
remember.
The petite young woman, who was a blonde, was smiling at him. She
wore her long hair in pigtails and Jed had the impression, gazing from her
eyes to her neat white cotton blouse, of a spoiled schoolgirl. The redhead,
sitting closer to him than the young woman, and being a year or two older,
wore her hair pinned up, as if for work.
ÒSo as I was saying, I would like to hire you,Ó the redhead, who
amazed Jed by having no freckles on her white skin, told him. The blonde
nodded.
ÒHire me?Ó Jed asked. ÒYou find me to be an intelligent self-
starter, or something?Ó
ÒNo,Ó the redhead replied. Jed saw the fire in her eyes again. ÒYour
personality doesnÕt interest me. Or anything else about you, for that
matter.Ó
ÒOh?Ó Jed asked. He saw a flush appear on the younger womanÕs
cheeks.
ÒI am interested solely in your penis,Ó the redhead said. She said
the words as simply as if she had been commenting on the weather. Jed
glanced nervously around. Had any of the diners at the other tables heard
her? He swallowed.
ÒPerhaps you shouldnÕt--Ó Jed said. Her hand reached out. With a
flick of her red hair, tossing it back from her eyes where it had briefly
fallen, she said, again with quiet confidence,
ÒNo.Ó
ÒI mean,Ó Jed said. Again he glanced around.
ÒWe will discuss what is important and not beat around the bush,Ó
the redhead told Jed. ÒI find your body attractive, yes, that is true. And
IÕm sure you have a winning personality, although I really donÕt care.Ó She
smiled, her voice even softer than before, but Jed could hear it, and he
wondered frantically if the other diners could too. ÒI am having a party
tonight,Ó the red head went on. ÒI have hired one man, I require another.
But as I said it is not you yourself that I am seeking. It is your dick, plain
and simple. Your erect dick,Ó she added, stressing the word ÔerectÕ. ÒAnd
your balls. I trust they are full?Ó she asked.
Jed swallowed hard, harder than before, and stammered like when
she was confronting him out on the street.
ÒOf course theyÕre... full,Ó Jed managed to answer. His blush
deepened, as did the blush on the young blonde sitting silently across the
table from him. The redhead stroked JedÕs arm. He could feel the heat of
her fingers, he told himself, right through the sleeve of his suitcoat.
ÒWhen did you last ejaculate?Ó the redhead asked Jed.
ÒYesterd- I donÕt know,Ó Jed replied. His voice was growing angry.
Again he looked quickly around at the other diners. One woman, sitting
nearby, raised an eyebrow. Had she heard? Jed couldnÕt be sure.
ÒBut you feel full right now?Ó the redhead, whose name Jed still
didnÕt know, asked him. Jed nodded.
ÒGood,Ó the redhead said. She looked at the younger woman, the
spoiled blonde schoolgirl sitting beside her.
ÒI have told you that I will not ask your opinion,Ó the redhead said to
the younger woman. ÒAnd I will not. But you can see where things are
heading. Expect it to happen tonight.Ó The blonde blushed more fiercely.
She nodded. Jed saw that, unlike the redhead who wore her blouse collar
buttoned, the blondeÕs was unbuttoned. Against her throat he saw a woven
bit of leather.
ÒWhat is that?Ó Jed asked the blonde.
ÒIt is a collar,Ó the redhead answered for the girl.
ÒOh yes. I see,Ó Jed said, looking more closely. The thing consisted
of two leather strands, woven together like something at summer camp.
The blonde lifted a hand. Her blouse was long sleeved. Unlike her collar
around her throat, the cuffs of her long sleeves were buttoned tight.
ÒIt is my training collar,Ó the blonde told Jed. Her eyes radiated
sincerity. ÒI am to wear it until IÕve been trained. Then mademoiselle
says I can have a real one.Ó
ÒOh-- of course,Ó Jed said. He glanced quickly at the redhead. She
smiled. He was conscious again of her tits, of their size and beauty, and
now he was attracted as well to the blonde, despite her spoilt demeanor.
Something about that thing tied around her neck sent spasms through his
trousers.
ÒYou seem uncomfortable,Ó the redhead said, smiling at Jed.
ÒY- Yes,Ó Jed answered.
ÒThen let us leave our drinks. We have other things to attend to,
no?Ó the redhead asked Jed.
ÒSure,Ó Jed managed to answer.
And the next thing he knew they were in a cab, the three of them, and
they were not going to the company lunch or business meeting that Jed had
been scheduled to attend. Instead they were riding in the cab to the
redheadÕs condo.
ÒIt is very nice. You will find it quite fashionable,Ó the redhead was
telling Jed about where she lived. But Jed, sitting between the two
females, in the back of the cab, with each of them clasping one of his
arms, couldnÕt stop thinking about his dick. It stood stiffly in his pants,
as stiffly as it could manage, giving him pain, making a display of itself
through his trousers and embarrassing him whenever the cab driver
glanced in his rearview mirror . And when Jed wasnÕt thinking about
himself, about his own condition, he was thinking about the big mammary
tits the redhead possessed. And he was thinking also about the younger
girl, the blonde, and her high pert tits and the collar around her neck.
ÒWhat did you mean, in the cafe, when you told her,Ó he pointed
briefly to the blonde, that you wouldnÕt ask her opinion?Ó Jed said to the
redhead. (He still didnÕt know their names.) The older woman smiled. In a
soft voice, a voice Jed hoped was too soft for the driver to hear, she said,
ÒSheÕs a virgin. She is newly arrived from France. Her name is
Elaine,Ó the redhead looked at the girl. The blonde nodded. ÒAnd you
wouldnÕt believe what I caught her doing,Ó the redhead told Jed. The
blonde blushed.
ÒWhat?Ó Jed asked.
ÒIt was last week,Ó the redhead said. ÒShe has not been given much
money on her trip to America. She is here as an exchange student. I
caught her trying to be a hooker, in the mall. Outside the Wet Seal. You
know, the girlsÕ clothing shop? She is only 16, although with her makeup
on, that sheÕs wearing now, IÕm sure you think she might be 18 at least.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jed said. ÒI would guess about 18.Ó The redhead laughed.
ÒMen cannot tell a girlÕs age once she is beautiful and in her prime,Ó
the redhead said. ÒAs for myself, I am 20. Perhaps I look older with my
makeup on too, old enough to buy you a drink, and us too? Yes?Ó
Jed nodded. Vaguely he remembered the drinks heÕd bought in the
cafe, or that the redhead had bought. Or perhaps the blonde had bought
them?
ÒYes well she was trying to hook a man, and get him to pay,Ó the
redhead said. ÒShe wanted the money for clothes. She did not want to ask
me; after all, I am already providing her with a place to stay. Fortunately
I caught her. So I must now discipline her,Ó the redhead said. ÒOr, rather,
I must have someone discipline her for me.Ó The redhead clasped JedÕs
arm tighter. The blonde, already blushing, blushed more deeply, and
clasped JedÕs arm tighter too. The redhead smiled also. ÒOf course since
then she has seen my condo,Ó the redhead said. ÒSome of the rooms,
anyway. And I have explained about the others, which she will see
tonight.Ó The blondeÕs smile faded. Then she giggled.
ÒOh?Ó Jed asked. He felt himself grow fuller in his pants. The
redhead noticed. Lightly she reached down and stroked his penis-lump.
ÒDonÕt do that,Ó Jed cautioned. He didnÕt want to make a mess of
himself in her limo, even if it was only rented.
ÒThis is what is attending my party tonight,Ó the redhead told Jed.
She stroked him again, right along the lump, savoring its hardness. ÒYou
are surplusage,Ó she told him.
And then they were in her condo, and Jed, asking permission to relive
himself of his drink, which had migrated to his bladder, found himself
with his fly unzipped in her downstairs guest bathroom, and her watching,
staring as he directed his erection downwards, at an acute angle, to make
sure his stream landed inside the bowl.
ÒMy, such a fine big one,Ó the redhead sighed.
ÒWhatÕs your name, anyway? Jed asked. There was irritation in his
voice. He thought of the 16-year-old, upstairs, who the redhead had told
to Ôprepare herself,Õ whatever that meant.
ÒMy name is Angela,Ó the redhead said. She watched as Jed shook
himself and finished. She reached out and pressed the flusher.
ÒWell, Angela, IÕm not used to being watched while I pee,Ó Jed said.
He saw his urine swish down into the toilet bowl as water ran into it.
Uncomfortably, he suddenly realized he would have trouble getting himself
back into his pants.
ÒOh, donÕt worry about that,Ó Angela said, realizing what Jed wanted
to do. ÒWe must go upstairs now anyway, and IÕm sorry if you donÕt like
me seeing you pee, but in a little while I will see you fuck, and so I donÕt
think IÕm really invading your privacy by watching you empty yourself.Ó
She smiled. She reached out and touched his cock. ÒAnd we must be
certain that only your bladder is emptied,Ó she added.
Jed turned. He was feeling angry, like some horse being corralled
and saddled. ÒWhat am I supposed to do, fuck the blonde?Ó Jed asked hotly.
ÒAfter our party,Ó the redhead said. ÒRight now there is the
unfortunate matter of discipline.Ó
ÒOh?Ó Jed asked. He felt himself grow even harder and the redhead,
her eyes flashing, noted this. ÒElaine is to receive her first spanking,Ó
Angela told Jed. ÒHowever this will not be like any spanking you may have
administered previously,Ó she said. She looked at him with interest. Jed
blushed.
ÒI am not in the habit of spanking young virgins,Ó Jed confessed.
ÒThen it will be a first for you too,Ó Elaine said. ÒYou will use
this,Ó she said. She gripped JedÕs cock. Her fingers circled around it,
small and slender against his big meat. Gently she depressed the large
vein on his cock that fed blood all the way down to the tip. ÒYou will
whack her with your erection, repeatedly, using yourself as hard as you
can on her bottom,Ó Angela said.
ÒI would rather put myself up her,Ó Jed said.
ÒOf course,Ó Angela answered. ÒUse your erection just like a big
stick or a ruler. It might hurt you too, I admit, but you are a man and IÕm
sure you can stand the pain. DonÕt spare her. Whack her behind until it is
sore. I want her to remember her punishment, so she wonÕt try whoring
herself again.Ó
The next thing Jed knew, he was upstairs in the redheadÕs condo. He
was in the bedroom set aside for the 16-year-old. Angela came in behind
him, his penis leading the way for both of them. The blonde blushed as she
saw him sticking out all stiff and excited. He still wore his clothes,
except for his unzipped fly, and his well-displayed meat. But the blonde
had Ôprepared herself.Õ She was still wearing the bows that held her long
hair in pigtails, and she still had her crisp blouse on too, but she was
holding the shirt up, pulling it up to her belly, so that in back the shirt did
not cover her bottom. As for her skirt, it had been taken off. It lay on her
bed. It was neatly folded. On her legs she wore white stockings, which
she had been wearing when Jed met her but which, owing to his interest in
her tits, and the tits of the redhead, he had not had time to study. Now
they were rolled down, baring her slender white thighs. They had sewn-in
garters, frilly tops, that now banded tight around her knees, the
indentation of their elastic still lightly visible further up, near the tops
of her thighs. Above her thighs, and below the hem of her skirt, her
bottom bulged. It was bare. Her panties were rolled down to just below
the base of her trim neat behind, as if to catch an errant stream of pee
that might escape her cunny when Jed spanked her. Jed gazed at the
panties. They seemed to have been pulled down with careful deliberation,
rolled so as to make a display of themselves, even as they displayed her
white bottom. And it was the same with her stockings, pulled tautly up to
her knees after being carefully pulled down from the tops of her thighs.
ÒThat is the target area,Ó the redhead said, indicating the 16-year-
oldÕs bared bottom and thighs. ÒHit her on her bottom, but on her thighs
also, if you wish to. She should not be able to sit down when you finish.Ó
The blonde glanced back over her shoulder. Her white teeth bit her
lower lip.
ÒEyes ahead!Ó the redhead snapped. The blonde quickly turned to face
her bed, which had a big white panda bear on it, as Jed stood in the
doorway behind her.
Jed, incredulous at what he was being asked to do, could feel his
balls roiling. He looked at the perfect white-bottom blonde, then at
Angela, equally alluring despite still being clothed. ÒIÕll-- IÕll cum if I
strike her with my dick,Ó Jed told Angela.
ÒReally?Ó Angela smiled. She pulled back the door, which had swung
inwards when they let themselves into the bedroom. Jed saw a stiff
yellow cane standing upright behind the door. The blonde must have known
it was there, Jed realized. Angela picked it up. She handed it to Jed.
ÒThen use this, if you really must,Ó Angela said to Jed.
Jed stood there with his penis sticking out, holding the stiff cane in
his hand, feeling awkward. The blonde glanced back again. The redhead
again yelled at her to keep her eyes forward. Jed saw the blondeÕs bottom
begin to move in small circular motions.
ÒYou are--- asking me to injure her with the cane,Ó Jed told Angela.
He gazed at the young girlÕs white ass. It was lovely, a treasure. He had
not been exposed to such things before, hitting people, especially young
beautiful girls, with hard objects.
ÒYes,Ó Angela said. ÒTo make her remember what she did.Ó
ÒTo spank her for whoring,Ó Jed said. He grimaced. He felt as if he
was going to spill, he was so excited suddenly by the idea of punishing
such perfection.
ÒBend forward,Ó Jed said to the blonde. His voice came out as a
croak but the young girl obediently leaned forward. She put both her small
hands on the bed. Her bottom reared at him. The cheeks remained mobile,
moving in tight little circles and now beginning to squeeze together too,
as if in worried apprehension.
Angela touched JedÕs shoulder. In a whisper-soft voice, gazing at
the blondeÕs bottom with him, she said, ÒWhen you are finished with her I
will put an enema up her, to clean her out for this eveningÕs games.Ó
ÒGames?Ó Jed asked. Again his voice croaked like a frog.
ÒYes,Ó Angela answered. Lightly her fingers ran down JedÕs arm.
They stroked the cane in his hand, near his fist.
ÒShe will crawl about, naked of course. Like a baby. And we will
each have a bowl of cherries. Each one of us, except for her.Ó
ÒShe doesnÕt get any?Ó Jed asked. His cock quivered.
ÒOh, she will get plenty!Ó Angela answered. ÒOur job will be to pick
up cherries with our lips, one by one. And insert them into her sweet
little virgin behind. We will each have a minute. Whoever stuffs her the
fullest wins!Ó
ÒThatÕs obscene,Ó Jed said. But the blonde, in front of him, seemed
to rotate her bottom in yet more indecent circles, larger circles, while
anxiously tightening herself.
ÒOh yes,Ó Angela agreed. ÒAnd then we will have a race, my dear
Jed,Ó Angela said. ÒHarold will be here by then. HeÕs my other invited
cock.Ó AngelaÕs hand left the cane. It glided down the front of JedÕs coat
to his penis, sticking out from under the vee of the garment. ÒWe will put
each of you on a treadmill,Ó Angela said. Lightly she curled her hand
around the base of JedÕs dick. ÒYou will run on the treadmill with your
stiff penis sticking out. You and Harold, both of you,Ó Angela said. ÒThat
is why you will need to be full of sperm, my dear boy, to protect your balls
as they jerk and jangle around. Loose balls might get injured. For you will
have no clothes on by then, and jock straps are expressly forbidden.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó Jed gasped.
ÒTo see which of you is the fastest runner, of course,Ó Angela
smiled.
ÒTo watch my dick bounce up and down!Ó Jed said angrily.
ÒAnd your balls, which hopefully will be taut and full enough not to
get injured,Ó Angela said. ÒThe girls and I will bet to see which of you
makes of a faster time.Ó
Jed turned his eyes back to the blonde. What a salacious display her
innocence now made! She wore shiny black shoes, private school shoes,
the picture of neatness and reason. They had sharp stiletto heels, but of
only a modest height, as if the school had wished to train the girls in
proper balance, like a finishing school, while keeping them from arching
and displaying their taut young fulsome behinds too fully.
Above her black shoes, stretched upwards along the trim lines of her
still-skinny legs, her white stockings clung. And above that, smooth and
creamy, above the tops of her stockings which had been pushed down to
her knees, were her excellent young thighs. And finally, there was, above
those slim perfect columns of flesh, her wobbly arched-out split behind.
Beneath its jut, her panties hung. They were stretched taut, along the
tops of her legs like her stockings had once been, before she Ôprepared
herself.Õ Jed hated to violate the perfection of her preparation. And yet,
she had violated it herself a little, for by bending forward, she was now
all bottom. All double-sphered ass, juddering and squeezing, as if she
might be trying to expel a turd. Her knees were no longer straight, but
bent a little, at the knees, making her look even more as if she were trying
to take a crap, like some American tourist standing over a Japanese toilet,
unsure how to handle a commode with no standing bowl or seat. Jed gazed
at her legs, at her frilly white sewn-in garters, at her shoes.
ÒKeep your legs apart,Ó Jed said, for he noticed that the girl had
inched her heels closer upon bending forward. Glancing back briefly, now
looking under her bent-forward torso instead of back over her shoulder,
she obeyed. With a thrill of delight Jed realized that his interest in the
child was purely carnal. He was not a pedophile. He loved her only for her
flesh. He could not conceive that he, at 25, would have anything in
common with a high school girl. A second later he realized that AngelaÕs
interest in the girl must be carnal also; she was 20, what need had she of
a girl, caught whoring or not, who was barely old enough to drive?
Jed looked over at Angela. He felt a sudden kinship with her, beyond
the size and beauty of her tits. They were both adults. He most assuredly,
she only a year, or less, away from full adulthood. Here in their midst
they had this young woman, this girl, this private-school child, and she
was eager and gullible enough to let them do what they pleased with her.
ÒYou hesitate,Ó the redhead said to Jed. Her voice was soft, quiet.
She put a hand on his arm, the arm that held the cane.
ÒI- I feel guilty,Ó Jed confessed. The redhead touched his penis. His
long, quivering bone. ÒGuilt is a marvelous aphrodesic,Ó Angela whispered.
Jed looked again at the perfection of the young girlÕs behind. How simple
and rudely wonderful was that tight-squeezed line which ran down
between her buttocks! How delicate the leaves of her sex, tautly rolled
and waiting where her legs joined. The cane quivered in his hand.
ÒIf I whip her,Ó Jed said to Angela. ÒIt will be as a stranger. You
realize that. I do not love her, although I greatly admire her. I do not
know her. In your case I do not know you either, but at least you are
almost 21. In her case there is a ten year age difference between us. I am
trying to succeed in the world of business, she is still trying to learn her
multiplication tables. Or whatever it is they teach girls in high school.
IÕm worrying about my next promotion. SheÕs worrying about her SAT
scores.Ó
AngelaÕs fingers glided along JedÕs penis. His cock trembled; her
fingers were smooth and sure. She squeezed him, lightly, at the
centerpoint of his cock, restraining the blood a little that ran down its
lenth, like a cock ring suddenly imposed on him. Meanwhile, the child in
front of him was growing restless. Artlessly she began humping her
bottom at him. She had obviously never been whipped, Jed realized. The
excitement of the act, of baring her ass before a stranger, washed away
all her common sense. He wondered if she really understood what was
about to happen. Or did she guess that it was only like a form of mooning,
with a little snap of a cane to urge her to greater girlish displays of
abandon? Yes, Jed felt, she had no idea of the pain and frank injury, the
bleeding, that a well-laid on cane could produce. Like her ill-fated
attempt at whoring, hers was all fairy-land imagination. She knew a man
was behind her, and she was excited about the effect she was having on
him. Beyond that, beyond the fact of his penis displaying itself to her
virgin flowerlike-cunt, she was ignorant. She knew nothing of the cane, of
its potential for lifetime scarring. And JedÕs penis was an object she had
no experience of. She was being naughty, showing off her bottom, like a
girl running naked at age 5 through her parentsÕ living room.
Jed looked again at Angela.
ÒHow badly do you want me to injure her?Ó Jed asked. Angela
smiled.
ÒShe is at your disposal,Ó the redhead answered. ÒYou know the
perils of whoring,Ó Angela said to Jed. ÒAIDS, ghonorrhea, crabs, not to
mention pimps and awful customers. Let the punishment fit the crime.Ó
She squeezed JedÕs dick harder. He grunteed. ÒYou speak as if you have
experience with the cane,Ó Angela said to Jed. Hesitantly he nodded.
ÒYes,Ó he agreed. ÒI did not want to let on. But somehow you must
have guessed. Perhaps even in picking me?Ó He looked at her, at her big
brown eyes, so completely concealing, in their wide innocence, her wicked
intentions. ÒI served briefly in a prison. In Singapore. It was an accident
really, I never learned the art of it. But I know the damage a well-laid on
cane can do.Ó He frowned. ÒAnd I know what an inexperienced man can do
too, who hits harder than he intends.Ó
ÒSo you know enough not to do the job properly, but to screw it up?Ó
Angela laughed. ÒI donÕt mind. Do your best. I was right about you.
Perhaps it is something in the way you move, or hold your arms. You are
just the man IÕve been looking for. How would you like to spend all
summer with me, and with Elaine? Ah, the things we could accomplish,
and teach each other, if only you would agree!Ó She pulled at his trousers.
ÒTake off these things. I want to see your ass working while you make
hers work, both of you naked and sweating!Ó
The poor girl was still bending over, her long pigtails swishing a
little back and forth as she contemplated the exposure of her position.
Her hands were flat on the bed. They gripped at the covers a little. Her
blouse hung limply from her back, ending at her waist, leaving all below it
bare. Her blouse was pulled up to show off her bare-cheeked splendor,
which made Jed so excited and provoked laughter from Angela. The blonde,
hunched over and waiting, heard a sound of undressing behind her. Again
she turned to look, gazing under the prominence of her hanging tits. She
gasped. As she watched, patiently bent over, Jed got off his shirt. Angela
kneeled down and pulled him free of his pants. Soon the athetic young man
was showing all he had, not only the nakedness of his cock but his balls as
well, and his powerful thighs, and his sculpted chest. Angela was still
dressed, prim and proper despite the nudity of her charge, hunched over
the bed, and her new paramour.
The redhead stood up. She had laid the cane on the floor but now she
picked it up as she rose. Again she placed it in JedÕs hand. He took it with
his hands trembling a little, his figure awesome to behold, like some
young Hercules.
ÒYes, I have chosen well,Ó Angela smiled.
ÒI-- but--Ó Jed said, still uncertain about his behavior in such
matters. He had seen men caned, over a period of two weeks. He knew the
lifelong scars that such discipline could produce. He weighed the
instrument in his hand. Yes, it was of a quality manufacture, finely
balanced. But oh, it felt so hard! To use such a wicked device on the soft
rondeur of a childÕs bottom! ÒI cannot,Ó Jed said suddenly. He threw the
cane to the floor. It was a carpeted floor, a white carpet, like the big
panda bear lying amidst the pillows of ElaineÕs bed. He was propped
against the headboard, seemingly grinning, watching in his own fuzzy
nudity the bent-forward awkwardness of his owner.
Jed looked at Angela. Standing naked, as if for a shower, he
addressed her: ÒI canÕt,Ó he said bluntly. ÒShe is too pretty, too young.
Let me fuck her. Let the taking of her cherry be her punishment.Ó
Angela frowned. Elaine stood up, letting her blouse fall over her
bottom, covering it, so that the crisp white tail hung down to the tops of
her thighs. From her rearward position, facing Jed with her bottom, she
turned a little, craning her neck back uncertainly.
ÒOh you men!Ó Angela cried. She grabbed at his cock. Jed, large and
prominent, couldnÕt begin to pull himself away in time. AngelaÕs hand
gripped him and Jed, surprised, found himself staring awkwardly down at
himself. Holding his dick, Angela said, ÒAlways you think of this. A quick
fuck, eh? Is that what you want? But I want you large and hard for the
whole night. I want to admire you... test you. I want to party with this big
penis of yours and I donÕt want its strength compromised. Harold will be
arriving soon. Either he will cane the girl, or you will. You can watch or
you can leave.Ó
Jed felt his mouth hanging open. He was stunned. He liked the girl,
but he admired beyond all measure the woman standing before him. Her
cleavage, still coyly clothed, could not be hidden. Her breasts jutted out
at him, straining the vest which was buttoned across them. It was a
business-vest, suitable for a woman to wear in the office. Beneath it was
a collared blouse, but the redhead may as well have been naked, despite
her bra and blouse and vest, the way her young mammaries jutted out at
everyone who looked in her direction. As large as the womanÕs chest was,
her waist was narrow, slender as a stick, it seemed, easily broken by an
ill-judged movement of the upper half of her body. And then there were
her hips! Broad, child-bearing hips, yet not wide beyond the lattitude of
what men find attractive. They seemed to have been shaped for delivering
a succession of children, and her tight small skirt could not hide the
delicious nature of her figure. And finally there were her legs. They were
lightly stockinged, in a gauzy beige nylon. You could tell just by looking at
them that her legs didnÕt really need stockings, they were so slender and
perfect, even the thighs; Anglea was wearing the stockings as part of her
office-wear ensemble.
ÒShall I undress?Ó Angela asked Jed. As her eyes smiled at him, her
frown lifting, Jed was aware of the child, the blonde, staring at them both
like some innocent babe, anxiously regarding its parents.
ÒY- Yes,Ó Jed said.
ÒAnd you will whip her if I undress?Ó Angela asked. She reached up
to her vest and opened the first button. Jed felt a drop of drool strike his
penis, which AngelaÕs hand had just let go.
ÒI will-- fuck you,Ó Jed proposed, his naked cock sticking out like a
snake with rigor-mortis. Angela smiled and looked down at JedÕs penis as
she unbuttoned the second button on her blouse.
ÒYou will keep that stiff and perfect, and your balls full,Ó Angela
told Jed. ÒPerhaps in the morning I will allow you to spend, after your run
on the treadmill. In the meantime,Ó her eyes lifted to his, ÒYou will do
just as I say, and keep yourself always at attention.Ó
ÒAttention?Ó Jed echoed.
ÒShe means your penis,Ó Elaine piped up from the bedside. Jed
turned and glared at the girl.
ÒI donÕt want you saying that!Ó Jed cried. He was aware of the
blonde gazing at his erection and he said, ÒStop looking at me!Ó He tried
to cover himself with his hands but that was quite impossible.
ÒDonÕt do that,Ó Elaine objected. She lifted the front of her shirt,
baring her pussy. ÒI like your penis,Ó she said.
ÒYou are 16. You are not supposed to be liking menÕs penises,Ó Jed
objected. He was aware of a garment falling to the floor to his right.
Nonetheless he kept his eyes fixed on Elaine. ÒI want you to be good,Ó he
scolded the girl. ÒPull up your panties. Put your skirt back on. Tuck in
your blouse. And roll up your stockings,Ó he ordered. ÒI want you neat and
presentable again.Ó He gulped. ÒDecently presentable,Ó he added, for
indeed, the child was quite presentable even now, with her panties
carefully rolled down and her stockings taut below her knees, and her
skirt folded on her bed.
ÒOh, you do not like me!Ó the blonde lamented. She reached up and
tugged at her pigtails. It was a useless gesture, emphasizing, if anything,
her nudity below the waist, as she tugged on her neatly tied pigtails with
their white bows.
ÒStop that!Ó Jed croaked. The girlÕs nakedness, strategic and
delicious, was giving him unwanted thoughts. He longed to violate her,
suddenly, to strike her with the cane and watch her lovely white bottom
stuffed full with an enema, as Angela had promised, so that she might
have cherries put to her virgin ass in the evening.
ÒOh, Elaine said you would like me but now you donÕt,Ó Elaine
blathered. She wiggled her hips, displaying the nakedness of her muff, her
hands still occupied pulling on her pigtails.
ÒDonÕt thrust out your hips at me,Ó Jed ordered the girl. He was
aware of a skirt hitting the floor near him.
ÒIÕm not... Ooooh, yes I am,Ó Elaine agreed. She looked down at her
hips and jerked them out farther, showing off her naked inrolled lips of
her quim.
ÒI told you to stop that,Ó Jed said in an angry voice. He walked over
to the girl. Abruptly he took her arm. She screamed, but he ignored her,
and turned her around. Shoving against her back with his hand he forced
her to lean once more over her bed. Her hand must have grabbed at her
blouse, perhaps instintively, for her blouse was suddenly up, past her
waist, showing all that she had. Her bottom bulbed at him. There was no
hope for him now, Jed realized. He hurried across the white carpet to the
cane. He picked it up. Elaine regarded him from under her pendant bosoms,
softly covered by her still-buttoned blouse, leaning forward again as she
had done before. A swaying of her hips ensued, as Jed, no longer thinking
but only reacting, weighed the cane again in his palm. Yes, it was a fine
instrument. If he could apply it with skill and precision he might not hurt
the child too badly. He whipped the air. Elaine jerked. The tail of her
blouse slipped down over her ass. Suddenly Angela was stepping forward,
and, leaning in beside the girl, she yanked up ElaineÕs blouse.
ÒWhat?Ó Elaine gasped. Angela pulled a hair pin out of her hair. She
shoved it through the material of ElaineÕs blouse, fixing the garment so
that it stayed up from her bottom. She added a second pin, and then,
telling the child to hush, for Elaine was saying ÒWhat?Ó again, Angela
stepped back.
ÒKeep your hands on the bedcover,Ó Angela warned the girl as the
blonde made to rise. Despite the warning, Elaine stood up. But the back of
her blouse did not fall down, as before, for AnglaÕs hair pins kept it aloft.
ÒBend forward!Ó Jed roared. Hastily Elaine obeyed. But just as her
small hands again planted themselves on the bedcover, a doorbell was
distantly heard.
ÒAh, that is Harold,Ó Angela said in a half-lament. Jed looked at the
redhead. For the first time he realized that she was now gloriously naked,
her clothes laid over the back of a chair, her body as lovely as his
imagination had thought. What a sight her red cherry nipples made, set
atop her ponderous breasts! The stems of them grew even as Jed stared at
the woman. And he saw also, suddenly, the purpose of her wearing a
blouse with a buttoned collar. Now that the garment was gone he saw a
dogÕs collar around her neck. It was slender, like a collar made for a
poodle. It was made of white leather and it had a lock on the front of it,
as if she could not remove it, even if she wished to.
ÒIÕll get the door,Ó the redhead said to Jed. ÒYou begin her training.Ó
Jed turned. He regarded Elaine, standing now, staring at him, facing
him. He gazed at her navel, visible just below her rolled-up blouse. Her
soft belly seemed to invite him and he longed to plunge himself into her
cunt and make the flatness of her belly grow with his seed. Meanwhile,
out of the corner of his eye, he saw Angela darting past ElaineÕs bedroom
door. The woman had wrapped a towel around herself, a pink towel, but
the collar was still around her neck, immovable, immobile, a sign of her
servitude to someone Jed didnÕt even know.
Downstairs, the paperboy was surprised to find the front door
opened by a naked woman. He gulped. Elaine blushed. She had her towel
wrapped tightly around herself but it did not cover her throat and
immediately, even as he contemplated the womanÕs nudity under her
towel, he was aware of the womanÕs dog collar. It was easy to see;
ElaineÕs hair was pinned up, businesslike, leaving her cheeks and her
throat free of the hair that might have fallen down and disguised her
condition.
ÒYes?Ó Elaine asked, awkwardly.
ÒI-- wondered if youÕd like to pay for your paper,Ó the paperboy said.
Just then there was a sharp, anxious howl. Elaine looked up. So did the
paperboy. From the second floor of the condo came the sound, along with
the scream, of a hard wooden object striking flesh.
ÒThat is my... neice,Ó Elaine said hastily. She looked again at the
paperboy, trying not to notice the scream, even as the young man himself
stood with his mouth hanging open. ÒWell? What? What is it you want?Ó
Elaine demanded. The boy composed himself, despite a suddenly growing
lump in his pants.
ÒI want... pay...Ó the boy stammered, when suddenly there was again
the distinct sound of wood striking flesh, and a louder, more anguished
scream.
Elaine became flustered. The girlÕs voice might be heard beyond the
door, even out in the front yard, where she could see two little girls
playing jacks on the sidewalk. Immediately she pulled open her door
wider. Her body was exposed to the street, wrapped in its pink towel,
with the dogÕs collar binding her neck, but she did not know what to do.
The paperboy did, however, taking her unconscious hint. He rushed into her
condo. As soon as he was inside Angela had the presence of mind to close
her front door. Hastily the paperboy yanked at his shorts. A moment later
they were down to his knees, and he was presenting himself to her, rigid,
panting with excitement like a dog in heat.
ÒYou want me to do something with that?Ó Angela asked. She looked
at the boyÕs penis. It was big, more prominent than she had thought it
would be. But even as she gazed at the sizeable cock, she was aware of
the boyÕs youthfulness, of his panting need. At the same moment the boy
himself seemed to become aware of what he had done. He clasped his
cock, grabbing it like one might grab at a banana in a grocery.
ÒSorry,Ó the boy confessed. But just as he spoke another howl came
from above, more urgent than the previous two. Elaine suddenly found her
presence of mind.
ÒNo, you have nothing to apologize for. Least of all that,Ó Angela
said to the boy. She unwrapped her towel. The boy gazed with surprise at
her body. It was as if PlayboyÕs Playmate of the Month had suddenly
stepped into his life, in all her Venus-like glory. Of course he had known
she was beautiful, but to see her like that, undresed as if for bath or the
bed! As he choked on his own spit, gazing at her juddering breasts and her
tiny waist, her firm wide hips and her slender legs, Angela reached out
and grabbed hold of his cock. ÒCome. I have use for this,Ó Angela
promised the young man. He stumbled after her, his step made akward by
his shorts around his knees.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Jed was alarmed at the effect his cane was
having on Elaine. He had given her three strokes so far, and each one
stained the white flesh of her bottom with an angry pink blush. Gone was
the unmarred perfection of her behind. Across it, criss-crossing her round
porcelain splendor, were marks. His marks, like tattoos, painting the
flesh as if it were, perhaps, a round china cup. What was worse, the girl
could not stay bent over when the cane hit her. Each time she yanked
herself bolt upright. Her hands flew back to her bottom and grasped it like
it was a pumpkin about to roll down a steep hill. She would rise on her
toes, and then lift one black-shoed foot and then yell. What a sight her
naked bottom made, with her white stockings banding her legs, her white
blouse rolled up, and her white bottom turning to red! How Jed loved the
way the girl clutched at herself, at the same time lifting her chin, letting
her long hair fall back, and hooting like a young owl. But each time in
order to get her to bend forward again, to get her to put her hands once
more on the bed, he had to step forward and speak to her in tones almost
fatherly.
ÒYou must have your correction,Ó Jed said. His breath was hot; the
girl could feel him exhaling down onto her small face as he spoke. She
was aware, too, of the excitement her distress produced in him. JedÕs
cock strained even harder at her, nudging her thigh as he got her to lean
forward. ÒHands on the bed,Ó Jed urged the girl. Slowly Elaine let go of
her bottom. She put her hands on the bedcover. Tightly she grasped it,
while at the same time her bare ass, suddenly conscious of its hands-free
exposure, squeezed itself taut. Jed looked at her rubbery spheres. Gently
he examined the flesh with his finger. He did not probe her crack but
instead lightly pressed a digit to one of the lines he had made, almost
reassuringly, and the girl, shocked at his touch, stood upright once more.
ÒNo, no,Ó Jed said. ÒKeep bending forward. I am going to step back now
and give you another. Take your hands away. Do not try to grab at your ass
or my hands. I must inspect my blows, to see that they are not too harsh
for you. Stick out your bottom-- present it. It is a work of art even now
with the lines printed across it.Ó
And then, having consoled the girl, having reassured her, Jed would
step back, even as he was stepping back again now after giving her the
third stroke. He turned. He was conscious of the hardness, the awful
stiffness of his cock as he turned. It waggled before him, a tuning fork
alert to water. His balls, stiffly drawn up, were tense and roiling. He
could barely contain himself, especially with the vision of ElaineÕs ass
wriggling before him. But somehow he managed to sight the cane, to draw
it back, and then to step forward with a bounding leap. The cane landed.
The blonde jerked and shot upright. Her hands grabbed at herself, greedily,
catching the flesh of her naked behind as JedÕs cane sprang away.
ÒYoooooHOOOOO!Ó Elaine blurted. Angela walked into the room. She
laughed.
ÒYou will have to hit her harder than that if you donÕt want her to
think youÕre a wimp,Ó she told Jed. He was going to step forward but she
took him by the arm, holding a half-naked young boy by his cock with her
other hand.
ÒNo,Ó Elaine said. ÒShe must maintain the posture on her own. You
must be remote, detached, like the prison warden you were in Singapore.Ó
ÒI wasnÕt the warden,Ó Jed objected.
ÒWhatever you were,Ó Angela said. She turned to the blonde. ÒBend
forward, girl!Ó she barked. Elaine clutched her bottom still, oblivious to
the order. Suddenly there was another ring of the doorbell at the front
door.
ÒIÕll get it!Ó Elaine shouted. Still holding on to her ass, she turned
around. She ran past Jed, past Elaine, past the paperboy, who elicited a
curious look from Elaine as she passed him. She ran downstairs and a
moment later Harold, waiting at the front door, was pleased to find the
blonde greet him with her blouse rolled up and her panties pulled down off
her ass.
ÒI see youÕre ready,Ó Harold grinned. He had dark hair, a dark
mustache. He wore loose clothing that vaguely concealed his athletic
form. A gold medallion hung round his neck, down to his chest, resting on
the black matted hair there. There was an evil twinkle in his eye. He
might have been a reject from some 70Õs porn film, laughably out of date
except for his wide baggy trousers, but for Elaine, gazing at him with
embarrassment, realizing suddenly the condition in which sheÕd answered
the door, he was all too real.
ÒIt you!Ó Elaine gasped. She had not met the man before but there
was little doubt in her mind that sheÕd escaped JedÕs cane only to find
herself face-to-face with the worst stranger in her young life. Angela
had spoken to her of the man, of his dark features, of his dark thoughts.
Now she wanted to close the front door, to shut him out, but he was too
quick for her. He was inside in a moment, closing the door behind him, and
evaluating ElaineÕs half-naked body like an auctioneer at a cattle show.
ÒNice tits,Ó Harold said. Awkwardly Elaine looked down at her
blouse-covered breasts. Her cheeks reddened. Neither of them needed to
say what loomed much more promiminently than her tits, being uncovered
and below the rolled-up hem of her blouse. Harold laughed. He had her
turn around, so he could see it. Her naked young ass presented itself to his
eyes. ÒI will enjoy this. But it looks as if someone has already beaten me
to it,Ó Harold said. He frowned. Elaine, stammering, said,
ÒH- He did it. Upstairs. I forget his name.Ó
ÒJed,Ó Angela said. Harold looked up. The woman of his dreams was
on the stairs leading up to the second floor of her condo. She seemed
delighted. There was no shortage of penises in her life. Harold was hard,
a lump showing in his pants, and beside and behind the woman stood a boy
and a man, respectively, each one showing himself to the world.
ÒI see you have prepared the girl,Ó Harold said to Angela. He gazed
at the redheadÕs mouth-watering figure. She was quite naked, save for the
collar he had buckled onto her neck the previous week. He searched her
body for signs of use, for lines similar to those which criss-crossed the
young blondeÕs body, but he saw none. He could not see her bottom,
however, for she was facing him, and he wondered if the naked man, or the
boy perhaps, had been switching that part of her with a cane. He looked
also at her pussy and thighs, to see if sperm stained them, but it did not,
and he guessed he had arrived just in time.
ÒShe prepared herself,Ó Angela answered.
ÒAnd you have had an amateur giving her blows?Ó Harold said. He
frowned.
ÒYou said you might be late. I found this young man and decided to
give him a try,Ó Angela said. She lifted her hand. She tugged at the collar
around her neck. HaroldÕs eyes swept to Jed. He lifted his eyebrows; the
man was not displeasing. He might wish to see the man bent over beside
the girl, both of them taking the cane, the man in danger of spilling his
seed each time the cane struck his obviously excited body.
ÒAnd the boy?Ó Harold asked, turning his eyes to the 14-year-old
paperboy.
ÒA newfound friend,Ó Angela said. She had the boy by his cock.
Eagerly he worked himself in her grasp. He seemed to Harold to be in
danger of spurting all over AngelaÕs carpeted steps.
It was certainly a hot tableaux. Any other man, coming into such a
situation, would certainly have stripped off his clothes and joined it. But
Harold was no ordinary man. He was a astute lover of bondage, beginning
with surreptitious viewings of Story of O in the 80Õs, when theatres were
not so well guarded and he could slip in a side door without being noticed,
despite being under-age. Now he was older, and having travelled through
San Francisco and New YorkÕs underground, the thought of once again
entertaining himself in AngelaÕs little condo bored him. He had a different
plan, and a friend who was standing by to help him with it. He had not
come to join a party but rather to create one, and he was looking for
willing victims.
ÒWe will not be playing in your house this evening,Ó Harold said to
Angela. He spoke in a commanding voice, so as to brook no disobedience.
He glanced from one to the other of the people in front of him. The man
seemed of no consequence, naked and preoccupied with his cock, worried
more about spending himself prematurely than about where he might wind
up. As for Angela, she had a curious look on her face. He had given her her
first lessons in bondage and she trusted him to take the lead, if necesarry,
to further her education. The boy was ridiculous, trying to jerk himself
off in AngelaÕs hand. And the girl, the blonde, was completely at his
mercy. Someone had already been whacking her bottom and he had no doubt
that he could finish the job, sending her into untold spasms of pain if he
wished. They were all innocents, compared to him. His only obstacle
would be their own desire, the maleÕs unbridled lust and the femalesÕ
yearning. If he could somehow keep their naive heat under control, just
for a few minutes while he led them astray to another location, he might
have himself a splendidly inventive evening. He looked at Angela.
ÒIf you still have access to the rented limo your boyfriend gave you,
we will need that,Ó Harold said. Jed jerked his head toward Angela.
Harold laughed to himself. He enjoyed the manÕs startled look. What an
innocent that guy was! Did he think someone as beautiful as Angela was
without legions of men in her life? She had her rich boyfriend, and she
had Harold, and now she had this fellow and the boy, plus others, Harold
was sure, that he himself did not know about. But he had one feather in
his cap which no other man could match, with regard to the luscious
redhead. He had been the one to introduce her to the pleasures of whips
and chains.
ÒWhy do you need the limo?Ó Angela said to Harold. The curious look
on her face deepened. She was willing to go along, Harold saw, but
whatever he had planned would have to happen smoothly and quickly.
ÒWe could party here,Ó Harold said. ÒBut I have another location in
mind. If you will allow me to explain...Ó
ÒYes. Please,Ó Angela answered.
Jed, standing behind the redhead, had a sense of being excluded from
their conversation, despite his nudity, despite the frankess of his
excitment. It was presumed, he realized, that he would go along. His male
ego resisted, but his cock was hopelessly hard and he knew, if prodded, he
would say ÔyesÕ to just about anything. Perhaps not flaying the girl to the
point of injury, but surely anything short of that. He was like a child, like
the paperboy, or like the girl even, his body suddenly a commodity, his will
and his thoughts completely unknown to them-- and not wanted.
ÒI have acquired the use of a police station,Ó Harold said. ÒItÕs an
old station. Authentic. I think youÕll like it. A friend of mine bought it,
just recently, a new person in town. My friend will serve as police
commissioner. I want all four of you booked.Ó He grinned, hearing a gasp
from the blonde, from Angela, from even the young men who were
presenting themselves so ardently. ÒThe girl here,Ó Harold grabbed
ElaineÕs arm. ÒWill be booked for whoring. Your male friends for indecent
exposure. And you yourself, Angela dear, for corrupting a minor.Ó
ÒOh my!Ó Angela gasped. She arched her hips, presenting her mount
with an eagerness Harold found disconcerting. Her bare bosoms quivered,
her breath came out in a heated rush. ÒYou are so inventive!Ó Angela said
to Harold.
ÒYes,Ó Harold answered. His grin broadened. The woman was in his
grasp, eager as ever to learn from him. The blonde was another matter,
tugging hard on him, trying to escape his grip. But he felt that between
himself and Angela, he could induce her to come along.
Jed, meanwhile, standing behind Angela, watching her hips jerk
forward, had the feeling of being excluded. The erotic display he was
making, quite involuntarily with his cock, was desired, but nothing else
was wanted from him, not even his dexterity with the cane. It was a
strange feeling, heady and yet ignoble. He resented the newcomer, this
man with his gold medallion and his commanding ways, and yet at the
same time he was aroused by him. He felt his cock straining toward him.
HIs balls churned.
ÒWhat about me?Ó Jed asked suddenly. The man looked at him.
ÒYou have a fine body, good for sex. I see no reason not to include
you,Ó Harold said. ÒYour penis is excellent. If you are not particular about
where it is put, we should get on well together.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jed croaked. He watched as AngelaÕs hand glided over to him
and clasped him. Her grip was warm, tight. Unfortunately it only held a
little of him, he was so long.
ÒHe will be alright,Ó Angela said to Harold. ÒI told him you were
coming. And I told him I wanted him for his cock, nothing more.Ó She
smiled up at Jed. ÒRight?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jed gasped. ÒBut also you said that I was wanted for my
experience with the cane...?Ó
ÒYou are too easy with it,Ó Angela said. ÒI think Harold will handle
such matters from now on.Ó
Jed wanted to say more, but AngelaÕs hand on his dick was driving
him crazy. It was all he could do not to spurt in her grip, something that
terrified him for then he would be small, perhaps even unwanted. He
listened as Harold explained his plan for them.
ÒYou will be fingerprinted and photographed,Ó Harold said. He cast
his eyes about the room, including all of them in his remark. Angela
gasped, throwing her hips forward again. Elaine made a small mewling
sound, like a cat caught by the tail and unhappy about it. But Harold only
gripped the blondeÕs arm harder. ÒYou will not only have your faces
photographed, but also those parts of your body which have caused
offence,Ó Harold said. He glanced at Jed, at his penis. ÒNot for official
purposes, of course,Ó he added. ÒBut to serve as a warning. To all of you.Ó
The next thing Jed knew they were in the limo again, all of them,
wrapped in towels as if bound for the beach, or coming home from it. All
except Harold, who was still clothed. Jed himself had put a towel around
Elaine. It was a white towel. She looked odd sitting with the towel
covering her from her breasts to her knees, yet pulled up in back, at
HaroldÕs insistance, so that her bare bottom rested against the seatÕs
cushion. She had gasped when the seat touched her behind. It was cool to
the touch, thanks to the limoÕs air conditioning. Elaine still wore her
blouse, with its long sleeves and its neat open collar. She still wore her
stockings too, rolled down to her knees. Her panties still banded her just
under her crotch, so quickly had Jed put the towel on her, at HaroldÕs
request, so that they could leave immediately. Elaine looked from Jed to
Harold to Angela, but except for a consoling smile from Jed, who was
himself naked under his towel, his cock presssing hard against the cotton,
she received no looks in return. She was a thing, built for pleasure,
nothing more. A cheap whore perhaps. The paperboy grinned at her but
Elaine, two years older, ignored the youngster. And so he was a gigilo,
perhaps, like Jed, wanted for his fine penis but for no other purpose. Only
Harold and Angela mattered. And the driver, who, having gone shopping,
had been recalled, along with his limo, to take them all out to Harvest
Row.
It was a short drive. Had it been a long drive it might have proven
impossible to pull off, but in no time at all Jed found himself standing
naked in front of a woman. It was HaroldÕs friend, and she removed the
towel from him with a quick efficiency that made his penis stand up all
the harder. The paperboy was next. The woman yanked the towel from him
and it must have brushed his cock as she did it for a moment later, to the
startled surprise of all of them, he was ejaculating onto the police
station floor.
It was an old, musty building. It hadnÕt been used since perhaps the
1960Õs or the 1950Õs. The furniture had been left in it from that period
and the building had been periodically ransacked by boys wanting to play
cops and robbers. Recently it had been purchased by HaroldÕs friend,
Vanessa, who was new in town. She greeted them in a smart police
womanÕs outfit which she had had tailor-made to fit the period of the
building. It reminded Jed somewhat of a meter maidÕs outfit, for it did
not reflect entirely the modern view of the equality of women but, rather,
with its prim little hat and its curvaceous lines, the view that women
were useful ornaments.
And Vanessa, whatever her other qualities, was certainly an
ornament. She might have stepped directly from the pages of Playboy,
with her high, well-formed breasts and her slender waist, her graceful
hips and her slim, perfect legs. Another attraction which added to her
allure was that she was Japanese. She possessed a curious mixture of
self-confidence and shyness, like some Geisha girl, well-learnt in the
ways of sex, comfortable with it, yet at the same time bashfully modest,
respecting her charges even as she undressed them.
Perhaps it was this quality about her which allowed Angela to stand
still while the Asian removed her towel. The pretty Oriental looked
Angela up and down and then said,
ÒI can see what the menÕs charges are, but what is yours, if you
please?Ó Angela flashed a look at Harold. He superintended all, standing
behind the young woman, admiring her bottom, it seemed, which, though
covered by a skirt, struck Harold as perfectly formed for that manner of
sex which does not involve putting oneself in a womanÕs womb.
ÒCorrupting a minor,Ó Angela said. She looked at the paperboy. He
was still hard, despite spilling himself all over the floor.
And then, as Jed stood there, he realized he was not in a police
station. There was no delicate Asian cop. There was, rather, a police man
coming toward him. He was big and burly, with a sour look on his face,
striding down the busy city street as Jed waited for his cab. And the girl,
the beautiful redhead, walked past Jed. She hadnÕt even noticing him. Her
tits swayed by, propelled by her beautiful wiggling small ass. Jed turned.
He was embarrassed by his erection which was not a fantasy and which
seemed to be drawing the attention of the police.
ÒWait!Ó Jed called out to the girl of his daydream. She did not hear
him. The traffic was too loud. ÒWait!Ó Jed cried again. He hurried after
her, the bulge in his crotch leading the way. ÒWait!Ó
She stopped. She turned. Her tits came into view again. Jed tried
not to lower his eyes and look at them, but gazed rather into her face.
ÒYes?Ó the girl asked.
ÒI... thought I knew you,Ó Jed said with an embarrassed grin. To his
surprise, the girl reached out to him. She touched his chest.
ÒPerhaps you do,Ó she said. ÒOr perhaps you could.Ó
They sat by the pool. It was a condo pool, and Jed could feel the eyes
of the residents on him as he lay in the chaise lounge. Beside him, as the
faceless windows stared down at him, reflecting the sun and hiding the
visages beyond, lay Angela. Her bikini top strained under the magnificence
of her breasts. As Jed let his eyes roll toward her, he saw her nipples
rise. They pushed impatiently at the cups of her bra, at the apex of each
cup, lifting the spandex a little and letting more of her flesh show.
ÒYou could have worn something a little more substantial,Ó Jed
grunted. As he looked at her tits he felt his own body harden.
Specifically, down below his navel, where his Speedos were already too
tight.
ÒWhat? And spoil a half dozen pervertsÕ afternoon entertainment?Ó
Angela asked. She smiled at Jed. The laziness of her gaze, her bedroom
eyes, made him harder still.
ÒYouÕre not exactly being a Puritan,Ó Angela said to Jed. She glanced
down at the growing bulge in his crotch.
ÒItÕs so I can swim laps. With a minimum of drag,Ó Jed said.
ÒAnd not to impress my niece. Hmmmm,Ó Angela answered. She
looked at the sky again, closing her eyes against the sunÕs brightness.
Just then the object of her comment slithered out of the pool. It was a
quick movement, like a seal might make, a slippery hoisting of the body
out of the water and up over the poolÕs concrete side. The girlÕs panties
rode low as she pulled herself up out of the pool. Jed stared. The girl had
legs as long as a grasshopper, with a perfect round little ass that showed
the uppermost part of its crack now as she rose up from the pool.
Plop. She sat her wet ass down on the concrete deck of the pool. Her
legs opened, showing her crotch. Jed stared into the tiny 14-year-old
valley. He thought he could make out her pussy lips, staring at her on the
other side of the pool, but the shadow from her body, cast by the
westward leaning sun, kept her modest.
ÒYou do have a very lovely niece,Ó Jed murmured. Angela heard him.
She grinned.
ÒTonight she will go to her first party,Ó Angela said.
ÒHuh?Ó Jed replied.
ÒAnd I will too,Ó Angela said.
ÒHmmmm?Ó Jed rolled on his side. He looked at the young woman.
HeÕd been having sex with her for a week but the sly smile she now
betrayed on her lips spoke of still-hidden mysteries. Angela gave Jed a
world-weary look.
ÒYou are not the only man in my life, dear,Ó Angela said.
ÒWhy not?Ó Jed answered. He felt a sense of betrayal rising in him.
ÒBecause IÕm beautiful,Ó Angela said matter-of-factly.
ÒOh. Yeah,Ó Jed replied.
ÒIÕve been invited to my first Hollywood sex party. By my boss,Ó
Angela said.
ÒYouÕre sleeping with your boss?Ó Jed asked.
ÒDoesnÕt everybody?Ó Angela said. Then she laughed. ÒNo, silly, IÕm
not. Not yet, anyway.Ó She gazed at him alertly, despite the brightness of
the sun.
ÒHave you ever been to a sex party?Ó Angela asked Jed. He squirmed.
His cock was becoming massive and he knew the perverts watching from
the windows must be chuckling. He hoped no old ladies would have a heart
attack.
ÒNo,Ó Jed confessed.
ÒWell IÕve never been to a Hollywood one, and my boss insists I try
it,Ó Angela said. ÒAnd he wants me to bring my niece.Ó
ÒAre you going to?Ó Jed asked. He glanced across the pool at the
youngster. She was lying on the cement now, her hands under her hips.
She squirmed slightly. She looked at JedÕs swimsuit and let out a soft
moan.
ÒI have to,Ó Angela said. ÒShe overheard my boss inviting me. On the
phone. SheÕs insisting I bring her along. And he wants her there too,
although IÕve made him promise that no one will fuck her without my
permission.Ó
ÒA good idea,Ó Jed said.
ÒMy understanding is that itÕs not really about sex anyway,Ó Angela
said. ÒItÕs more about just enjoying yourself. You know, getting out of the
strictures of the society and all that.Ó
ÒOh yes. I forgot we live in Iran,Ó Jed said. He tried to fake a laugh
but couldnÕt.
Angela sat up. ÒStop being silly,Ó she said. She slapped Jed on his
stomach. He drew in his breath, reflexively, making his chest muscles
harden and, at the same time, as his stomach contracted, like an inward-
bending washboard, giving a greater prominence to his now quite turgid
cock.
ÒDonÕt you think it would be fun to just get, like, all casual, and have
fun? In a group, I mean,Ó Angela said to Jed.
And what could a young man with an erection straining his Speedos
reply, except ÒSureÓ?
Wendy appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. She wore black
opera length gloves. Around her neck a collar, of thick leather, was
fastened. It had pointed studs. She wore a corset. It pushed up her
breasts. They looked like twin melons squeezed into a too-small basket.
The nipples were rouged, lightly, turning the pink tittie-caps to red.
Below the fringed base of her corset, the little fluff of fringe running
along the bottom of it, about a half inch below, her navel twinkled. Her
belly was otherwise bare and the flatness of it, tanned by the sun, slid
inward to her pubis where, growing lightly amidst a thin horizontal
expanse of white flesh, where she usually wore her panties, was her pussy
thatch.
ÒHi Jed,Ó Wendy smiled.
ÒHi,Ó Jed answered. His eyes, having feasted quickly on her upper
half, trailed lower. WendyÕs childishly fatted thighs nearly kissed one
another, along their inward expanse, below the small folds of her pussy.
His eyes ran down her long thighs to her knees and her equally long shins
and calves, enjoying the spectacle of such long legs encased in black
stockings. He could see the ties of the stockings, hanging down on either
side of her thighs, on the outside. They were exceptionally long ties,
hanging down almost to her knees. Had she been wearing a skirt they
would have been visible below the hem of her skirt, fetchingly beckoning
his eyes to them. But she was not wearing a skirt. JedÕs eyes returned to
the girlÕs pussy.
ÒYou need panties,Ó Jed said to the girl.
ÒI know,Ó Wendy answered.
ÒI should not be seeing you like this. YouÕre only 14,Ó Jed said.
ÒI know,Ó Wendy said. She giggled.
Angela appeared. She was dressed like Wendy, but with a knee-
length skirt and, Jed hoped, panties underneath. She looked at Jed. He
wore a suitcoat, slacks, and a tie.
ÒAre we ready?Ó Angela asked.
ÒShe still needs to go put on her panties,Ó Jed said.
ÒI have just been talking to my boss on the phone,Ó Angela smiled.
Jed raised an eyebrow. He felt a sense of competition welling within him.
ÒWendy may not need her panties for very long,Ó Angela said.
They sat in a living room. There were six of them altogether. Jed
and Angela and her niece, plus AngelaÕs boss, and two women. One woman
was perhaps 30. The other was a year or two younger than Angela. They
had been introduced. They had commented on the summer weather, and on
the excellence of each otherÕs attire, JedÕs $500 suit and the bossÕs suit
that cost well over two grand. The women all wore corsets. Over their
corsets they wore blouses, dark expensive blouses that matched their
skirts. Jed could tell that the women all wore corsets because the
blouses, cut low, let the pushed-up tops of each womanÕs tits show.
The bossÕs lover, who was named Juanita, cut short a discussion by
Jed of the summer heat by saying,
ÒWell, yes, but we have the air on in here, dear, so we neednÕt worry
ourselves about it.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Jed answered. It was central air, not wall air
conditioners like Angela had in her condo. This was a small mansion. It
was well-equipped.
ÒI should like for us now to have dinner,Ó Juanita said. ÒI believe it
is ready.Ó
ÒAh yes,Ó AngelaÕs boss chimed in. Jed looked at Juanita. She was a
stunning brunette. Her bosoms rivalled AngelaÕs, yet her hips were
slightly fuller, owing to her greater years.
ÒThere is a problem, of course,Ó Juanita said.
ÒWhat is that?Ó Angela asked.
ÒIt is the matter of what happens after the meal,Ó Juanita said. ÒI
mean, if one eats, a little while later one must...Ó Juanita looked at her
lover.
ÒPoop,Ó AngelaÕs boss said frankly. Wendy giggled.
ÒSo I think we should take off our skirts, and you men your
trousers,Ó Juanita smiled. ÒIt will make things easier after the meal,
when nature calls.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Angela, who clearly had been briefed a little on the events to
come, agreed.
ÒOh, but we just got here!Ó Wendy protested.
ÒShush. Do as you are asked, dear,Ó Angela answered.
Jed could not believe his eyes. At JuanitaÕs urging, everyone began
disrobing. The women removed their blouses and their skirts. They also
slipped out of their panties, no matter how tiny or insignificant. AngelaÕs
boss, with a wink at his subordinate, undid his trousers. After taking
them off, he pulled down his shorts. He freed a massive member and Jed,
out of jealousy perhaps, was forced to do the same, showing that he was
as well-equipped.
ÒSo,Ó Juanita smiled, when the women had stripped and the men,
also undressed from the waist down, were standing at attention. ÒLet us
go into the dining room.Ó
They sat at dinner. It was an elegant table, with candles
illuminating the meal. Above hung a chandelier. Two servants, both
males, hurried in and out. Like the males seated at the table they wore
coats, shirts, and ties but no pants. When the meal was nearly consumed
Juanita, clearly desiring to hurry matters, had a servant bring in a bottle
and several spoons. Jed read the label on the bottle. It said, ÒCastor oil.Ó
ÒIÕm afraid weÕre limited to just one toilet,Ó Juanita smiled. A
servant drew back a curtain, in one corner of the room, where Jed thought
perhaps a valuable statue stood. But it was a commode! It sat in the
dining room, in plain view of the table. Next to it, hanging on the wall,
was a roll of toilet tissue. ÒAnd of course weÕll all have to be going
soon,Ó Juanita said.
ÒI donÕt want to go home. I just ate,Ó Wendy, sitting beside Jed,
protested. She rubbed her belly.
ÒNot that sort of going,Ó Juanita laughed. She glanced at Angela.
ÒShe means we will soon have to relieve ourselves,Ó Angela said to
the youngster. ÒAfter weÕve had a little inducement.Ó
Jed was appalled, but too randy to protest. The castor oil was
passed down the table. Each person was given a spoon and required to take
two mouthfuls of syrup. It was sweetened castor oil. It tasted pleasant
on JedÕs tongue. He gave two spoonfulls to Wendy, who was reluctant to
have any. But once she tasted it she wanted a third spoonfull.
ÒNo. YouÕll shit all over the room,Ó Angela told her niece.
ÒBut itÕs good!Ó Wendy said. ÒLike dessert.Ó
They waited. Soon the effects began to be felt. People squirmed in
their seats. Nobody wanted to be the first to poop in front of everyone.
ÒOh! I have to go!Ó Wendy cried. But she blushed, saying it, so that
Juanita finally had to lead the parade by being first on the toilet. The
smell of liberated crap added to the lingering odor of the meal in the room.
And then, as soon as Juanita was finished, there was a mad dash for
the toilet. She had broken the ice. Suddenly everyone had to go, and right
away, the diners lining up and waiting impatiently, hips squirming, as the
toilet was used by each one in turn.
ÒOh, I cannot hold it!Ó Wendy wailed.
ÒYou must!Ó Angela said sternly. She waited behind Jed, and he was
too desperate, suddenly, to let her cut in front of him.
30
Juanita
Elaine/Wendy 16 blonde/14 blonde
Angela 20 redhead
Jed
Harold
Vanessa
Dedicated to Claire CassÕs bottom. (Mayfair magazine, circa 1998.)
------------------
Her ÒpantiesÓ, if they could be called that, consisted of single
triangle of cloth. Black cloth. It was as black as her pubic hair, curling
out above the cloth in wisps, was golden blonde. The cloth dwindled all
too quickly to a point at her crotch. There a line of beads, connecting to
the point, disappeared into the small tight lips of her pussy. She turned,
groaning a little, and bent forward to serve a drink to a guest. Jed,
breathless, saw that the beads came out of her pussy lips at the back of
her crotch. But only to disappear again. This time they vanished within
the crack of her bottom. Yet as she bent forward the line of beads became
clearer to Jed, nestled within the parting cheeks of her ass that
reflexively split apart as she leaned forward. It was not a line of beads,
but of small chain links. And one link was bigger than the rest. It was the
link over her asshole. That item could not be seen, the rosette too small
and withdrawn within her pink cheeks, but Jed could guess where it was.
And the link over it could be seen. It was big, big enough for a dildo. The
link forced her cheeks apart, jammed as it was in the crack of her bottom.
Even when she stood up again, the opening was still there, the big link
making it be there, even as the rest of her ass contracted tightly together,
like twin round balls being reflexively pushed back against one another.
-----------------------------
Chapter One
He said it quite abruptly. There are many ways to broach a subject
and Mark had never taken the round-a-bout or tempered way, always
coming right out and saying it, like when he first proposed to Becky three
months earlier and she, thinking that he meant for them to be engaged,
was startled to learn that he was skipping that altogether (except for the
requisite ring) and suggesting marriage.
That was what Becky liked about him, his directness. Yet at the
same time, as in the case of their sudden marriage, it scared her, for her
father had been anything but a direct man, a bureaucrat by training and
occupation, steeped in the ways of obfuscation.
And so now, when Mark said what he said, Becky uttered a little
ÒOh!Ó and put her hand to her lips, and nearly dropped her coffee cup.
It was a late night coffee. They each sat in a separate chair, four
leather chairs arranged round a coffee table, the four of them casually
dressed for the summer weather. They were at Steve and SherryÕs house,
in their living room, a fire crackling in a hearth as the California night
cooled outside. They had been friends for two months, Becky and her
husband and Sherry and hers. There was complete trust between them,
Becky felt, despite the difference in years and experience.
Sherry and Steve had been married for three years, not three months.
They had had time to get to know one another and it showed, she always
able to finish his sentences for him, or he hers, one of them sometimes
jumping and telling the rest of a story that the other had started.
It was not that way with Becky and Mark. They were still
newlyweds, surprising each other sometimes with their thoughts and
opinions, with their ways of doing things. Mark was his usual direct self
and Becky, brought up under her father, was discreet and shy. She would
never say something outright. He would. He seemed to glory in it in the
same way that she avoided it. Or perhaps ÔgloryÕ was not the right word.
He simply did it. There. It was done. Let others worry about it.
And so as Becky listened to the crickets in the yard, through the
open living room window, savoring SherryÕs coffee, enjoying her older
friendÕs hospitality, Mark, looking at Steve, suddenly said,
ÒI would like my wife to become acquainted with the whip.Ó
Becky gave a shocked ÒOh!Ó. Sherry smiled and glanced at the young
newlywed wife. Steve, after a momentÕs pause, smiled too, and looked at
Becky. Then, looking again at Mark, he said,
ÒI have a business meeting tomorrow morning.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Mark said. Sherry, still smiling, put her coffee cup to her lips
and sipped it, as if the weather, or some equally mundane subject had just
been raised. But there was a sudden and unmistakable gleam of mischief
in her eyes.
ÒNot tonight, of course,Ó Mark quickly said. He passed his coffee cup
from one hand to the other, as if suddenly uncertain. He was always that
way, Becky reflected, after making one of his profound statements, if an
obstacle was suddenly put in his path. It wasnÕt a backing down, just a
seeming reconsideration, which really wasnÕt that at all, a kind of
reloading of his mental gun before firing it straight ahead once more.
Swallowing, but with no coffee in her mouth, Becky realized she had a
coffee cup in her hand and tightened her grip, lest she spill the hot liquid
onto her skirt and down her bare leg. She noticed that Mark, thanks to his
lurid proposal, was suddenly getting an erection in his pants. She glanced
at Sherry and saw that her friendÕs eyes had shifted from herself to Mark.
She saw his newfound condition too.
ÒMy wife is accustomed to the thing you speak of,Ó Steve, less
direct than Mark, said diplomatically. His eyes showed a gleam of
recognition as Mark grew larger. Sherry gulped again. Now everyone was
aware of Mark, of his excitement. ÒI donÕt use it often, but it is an
important thing to have,Ó Steve said. Sherry, still looking at MarkÕs
crotch, giggled. Then Steve laughed too, briefly, cutting it off after only a
moment. The double entendre was clear.
ÒYes,Ó Mark agreed. In his direct way, he was sometimes oblivious,
Becky realized, for he merely frowned at the laughter, not realizing his
penis had become the center of attention. He shifted uncomfortably in his
chair. It was a big leather chair, overstuffed, as soft as the front of his
crotch was hard.
Sherry put down her coffee cup on a glass table in front of her own
leather chair. She tossed back her blonde hair.
ÒWhere would you like this introduction to take place?Ó Sherry
asked.
ÒHere. If you donÕt mind,Ó Mark said. Sherry looked at her husband.
He looked at Becky.
ÒOh-- I donÕt think--Ó Becky offered, fear giving a bewildered look
to her eyes. Mark interrupted.
ÒYou are not being asked,Ó Mark said. His voice had grown suddenly
hoarse as the bulge in his crotch increased. He shifted again in his chair.
ÒAlright,Ó Steve said. He looked at Mark. Again his gaze showed
awareness of MarkÕs newfound condition, of his cock straining in his
slacks. ÒOf course you know that this will mark a new phase,Ó Steve said.
His voice grew tense. To BeckyÕs alarm she saw that a lump was beginning
to form in SteveÕs pants. ÒIn our friendship, I mean,Ó Steve continued.
ÒWeÕve gone canoeing together, weÕve gone to the beach, but--Ó
ÒYes. I know,Ó Mark said. ÒWe havenÕt fucked together.Ó Becky gave
another loud uncomfortable sigh. Even Sherry, up to this moment calm,
gave a small gasp.
ÒI was trying to avoid using that word,Ó Steve told Mark.
ÒUse it. I donÕt mind,Ó Mark said. He sounded belligerant but he must
have been nervous, for as soon as he said it he quickly lifted his coffee
cup up to his mouth. It was empty. Blushing, he put it down on the table
in front of him.
Becky looked away. She could not bear to gaze at her husband with
his crotch showing like that, speaking of sex in front of her friends. In
the hearth a fire burned. Hanging next to the hearth were fire implements.
The fire cast a warm glow over them, seemingly turning them from iron to
gold. Becky looked at them, as she had many times in the past, sitting in
this room. Even in their golden state they looked ominous. They had
always given her a scare, like things made for rearranging the coals down
in Hell. But the flame itself, in the hearth, was, on this night, a
simmering flame, a decorative flame. It was purposely kept low. The
night, summery and warm but now cooling, as midnight approached, did not
require a larger flame. It was just a gentle crackling, to add color to the
room and join in with the sound of the crickets.
ÒI mean it would be impossible not to, you know,Ó Steve suggested.
ÒFuck?Ó Mark asked.
ÒYes. Unless it was a strictly judicial whipping,Ó Steve said. Becky
let out a shout. She looked at her husband, at Steve, at Sherry. Her eyes
were becoming frantic. SteveÕs wife stood up. She went to BeckyÕs chair.
She urged the girl to give her her hand. When she had, reluctantly, Sherry
urged her to stand too. Then she sat down in BeckyÕs chair. She put her
hands round BeckyÕs hips and pulled the girl into her lap. Reassuringly she
stroked BeckyÕs thighs, bare beyond the hem of her skirt. Meanwhile her
husband, Steve, continued to talk: ÒAmong friends, it would be hard to
keep it entirely on that level,Ó Steve said. ÒJudicial, I mean. Serious.Ó He
lifted his cup, but didnÕt drink from it.
ÒYes,Ó Mark agreed.
ÒSo we must consider that our relationship would change.Ó
ÒThatÕs fine,Ó Mark said.
ÒThere might be some embarrassment afterwards,Ó Steve said. ÒMy
wife and I, we were friends with a couple. Then we did it together,
lovemaking, I mean, and afterwards we didnÕt speak for a month. It was
just sort of that we saw each other differently after that.Ó
ÒAre you friends now?Ó Mark asked.
ÒSort of,Ó Steve said. ÒHe got transferred, by his company. We donÕt
see each other anymore. Just Christmas cards...Ó
ÒOh,Ó Mark said.
Steve leaned forward. He looked at the younger man with a serious
gaze.
ÒHave you done it before? With another couple, I mean,Ó he added
hastily, as Sherry, with Becky in her lap, surpressed a giggle.
ÒNo,Ó Mark said. Sherry smiled at Becky, trying to get her attention
as she stroked the girlÕs thighs but the brunette, sitting in her lap,
pretended to ignore her. Yet there was now a flush in her cheeks, growing
deeper by the second. Becky gazed at the hearth, gulping a little, but not
drinking, just holding her cup in her hand in her lap, as she stared into the
flames. Sherry, her hands on BeckyÕs legs, continued to gently massage
them.
ÒThis Friday weÕre free,Ó Sherry said to her husband. Her voice was
soft, almost a whisper.
ÒNo!Ó Becky cried, turning to the older man.
ÒThis FridayÕs fine,Ó Mark agreed. Wildly Becky shifted her eyes to
Mark, more frightened than ever.
ÒThen itÕs settled,Ó Steve said, which brought a woeful moan from
Becky and an impish laugh from his own wife. ÒThis Friday, here.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Mark said, his arousal becoming so big that he scrunched up
his face with the pain of it. SteveÕs eyes fell to MarkÕs lap.
ÒCan you last until then?Ó Steve asked, looking frankly at MarkÕs
erection.
ÒHuh?Ó Mark, still unaware of the spectacle he was making, replied.
Then, seeing a certain look in his wifeÕs eyes, he suddenly understood.
ÒOh,Ó Mark said. ÒYeah,Ó He nodded quickly, looking down at himself.
Sherry put a hand to her mouth and giggled again. Becky had a look of
alarm on her face but the others, except for Sherry stroking her thighs,
ingnored her.
ÒVery well,Ó Steve said. ÒAs you can imagine there will be
significant demands placed on you. ItÕs unavoidable. So I would
recommend...Ó Mark looked at Sherry, at his wife sitting in SherryÕs lap.
ÒYes. Of course,Ó Mark said. And then he scrunched up his face with
the pain of himself, again, and a look of wonderment came over him as to
how he would ever do it.
But it was settled. As a result, nothing more was spoken of the
matter as they broke up that evening, despite BeckyÕs frightened stares, or
MarkÕs obvious limping, brought on by his crotch. They said goodbye to
each other. They said goodbye in the moonlight, out on the porch, Steve to
Mark and Mark to Steve and Sherry, with the crickets humming all around
them.
In the car, Becky said to Mark in a nervous voice, ÒHoney, what are
you doing?Ó
ÒHmmm?Ó Mark asked. He started the car. He pulled out of Steve and
SherryÕs driveway with a nonchalant look on his face, his wife sitting
beside him. He waved to the couple, on their front porch, as he drove off.
Becky, forcing a smile, waved too.
ÒTheyÕre friends. DonÕt embarrass me like that!Ó Becky said.
ÒIÕm not,Ó Mark answered. He drove along the road. It was lined
with trees and, in front of them, the trees cast long, clutching shadows in
the road ahead of their car.
ÒThen what were you talking about?Ó Becky asked. Mark looked at
his wife. A shadow, deeper than the darkness they were driving through,
passed briefly over her as they rolled along under the trees. More
followed, like black ghouls.
ÒItÕs something new I want to try,Ó Mark said.
ÒOh,Ó Becky answered. Her hands in her lap clasped, unclasped,
clasped again, the shadows running over her. ÒSomething new,Ó she said.
She swallowed. The forced smile was again on her lips.
ÒYes,Ó Mark said. ÒNow donÕt ask me about it again.Ó
He did not make love to her that night. The next night he was equally
resistant, despite her wide, welcoming eyes, and by the third night, he
again refusing, despite the awkward hardness of his penis standing high in
their bed, she was truly frightened. She tried mounting him, in the
darkness when he was asleep, but he woke, abruptly, and pushed her away.
ÒBe good,Ó he told her. He put a hand to her cunt.
ÒBut darling--Ó she gasped. Lightly he massaged her. Then he got
out of the bed and opened a drawer. He pulled something from it,
snakelike, a white long thing that the moon, high now in the sky,
illuminated through their bedroom window.
ÒRoll on your stomach,Ó he told her. She obeyed, looking at him, at
the thing coiled up in his hands, at his erection.
ÒWhatÕs that?Ó she asked. She had not seen it before.
ÒItÕs a rope,Ó he said. She gasped. Her frightened eyes grew bigger.
ÒIÕm going to have to tie you,Ó he said. ÒAs you can see, I am in need,
as are you. But we must wait until Friday. On Friday you will get what
you want.Ó
ÒBut I donÕt want to be whipped!Ó she shouted. He put his hands to
hers. He yanked them behind her back. Quickly he tied her, the rope
chafing her wrists as she felt it pulled tight against her skin. She gasped,
she yelled. He grunted with the effort of tying her. She tried to catch at
his penis with her mouth but he managed to pull it away. When her hands
were tied behind her back, she lying in their bed weeping, he took
something else out of the drawer. It was a long leather sheath. It had
little crossties on it, also made of leather. He loosened them. She
watched wide-eyed as he fitted the sheath over his penis. Then he tied it,
so that he wore the sheath as a kind of chastity belt, wrapped around his
manhood from the penis tip to the base. It came with a strap that could be
buckled around the waist and run between his legs, over his balls. He put
the waist strap on. When it was secure he took the part that went over
his balls, which was shaped like a loop, so that his balls could hang
through, and he put that on too.
ÒThis will prevent me from fucking you,Ó he explained to her. ÒOr
playing with myself,Ó he added. He looked at himself, all bound up in the
leather, and he swallowed. Hard. Then he got back in bed. Betsy stared,
lying on her belly, at his penis wrapped in the leather, pointing hard at the
ceiling.
ÒYou will need to take it off to pee,Ó she said quietly to him in the
darkness.
ÒYes. I know,Ó he said.
ÒIt will take awhile to untie it,Ó she said.
ÒYes,Ó he agreed.
ÒI hope you donÕt wake up with your bladder bursting,Ó she said.
ÒI hope not either,Ó he answered. And then, lying there in the
darkness, she said something quite unexpected, and blushed very deep the
minute she said it. ÒI want one too,Ó she said.
ÒA chastity belt?Ó he asked.
ÒYes,Ó she whispered.
ÒYou will pee in it if you canÕt get it off quickly enough in the
morning, when you wake up,Ó he told her.
ÒYes. I know,Ó she said, her face turning even more crimson. But he
could not see her blush, for the moonlight was falling on her wrists, above
her bottom, where the rope was tied.
ÒAlright,Ó he said. ÒIÕll ask Sherry about it tomorrow.Ó
ÒSherry?Ó she said, her voice suddenly high and startled.
ÒYes,Ó Mark said. ÒShe gave me this, today, when I saw her in town.
She has a new job. ItÕs right across the street from where I work.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Becky said. He heard her soft throat swallow in the darkness.
ÒI told her I was waiting until this Friday. I told her that yesterday,
when I saw her at lunch. So today she gave me this.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Becky said. ÒAt lunch.Ó
ÒWe are going to try new things,Ó Mark said to his wife. Absently he
touched the leather holding his penis. She watched his erection quiver, his
thumb pressing on it and making it snap back to attention after being
depressed toward his thighs and let go. ÒNew things,Ó Mark said again.
ÒBut--Ó Becky said. She squirmed on the sheets, her hands pressing
into her back.
ÒNo buts,Ó Mark said. He reached over and put a hand to her lips.
ÒTomorrow night I will lock you into your own chastity belt. And then the
next night-- the next night is Friday,Ó Mark said. Betsy bit his finger. He
shouted and pulled it away.
ÒDonÕt do that,Ó he said.
ÒYou are going to make me hurt,Ó she pouted.
ÒWe are going to try new things,Ó he answered. He put his finger in
his mouth and sucked it. He tasted blood. Somehow, despite the leather
holding his penis and the rope holding her hands, they fell asleep.
Sherry sat playing at the piano. It was a baby grand, black, shiny.
Occasionally she would pause and lift her chin and glance out the window,
toward the road. When she did her bosoms, bare but lightly held by a
corset, would quiver. Her nipples were hard, unbearably so, and it was an
effort on her part to keep stroking and pushing upon the pianoÕs keys
instead of her pointed breast tips. Her husband sat in a chair. He was
dressed in a fine silk suit. But his fly was open, his hard penis extended
out into the room, feeling the cool air passing in through the window. His
wife glanced from the road to her husband. She smiled at his hardness, at
his obvious eagerness. Then she quietly looked down at the keys again, on
the piano, below the jut of her breasts.
ÒYouÕll never get it back into your pants,Ó Sherry chided her husband.
He looked at himself, at her, at her divinely full bosoms.
ÒI know,Ó he said. ÒCome and wet it for me again.Ó His wife hit a
note. The sound rang out in the room, soft, lilting, high.
ÒNo,Ó she answered. ÒYou almost came in my mouth ten minutes
ago.Ó
ÒIÕm better controlled now,Ó Steve replied. His wife looked at him.
She hit another note, lower.
ÒNo,Ó she said.
ÒWho is going to wield the thing?Ó Mark asked. Sherry played
several notes in succession.
ÒYouÕre the owner,Ó she said, as a cloud drifted away outside and the
road, formerly in shadow, became suddenly lit by bright sunshine.
ÒIÕm not talking about my dick,Ó Steve grunted.
ÒOh,Ó Sherry said. She paused again. She looked at the road.
ÒYou know what IÕm talking about,Ó Steve said.
ÒYes,Ó Sherry agreed.
ÒWho is going to hit her?Ó Steve asked. ÒIf I make her bleed, her
husband may never forgive me.Ó
ÒAre you suggesting?Ó Sherry asked, striking a note again. It was
deep, resonant.
ÒHe wonÕt do it. Not properly, you know.Ó
ÒSo itÕs left to me, then?Ó Sherry asked.
ÒYou must be sufficiently cruel to give her an actual experience of it
without being so bad that she refuses to ever do it again,Ó Steve said.
ÒI know,Ó Sherry answered. She gave her husband a rueful look. She
shifted her bottom, which was bare, on the bare black shiny wooden bench
of the piano. His eyes fell to her ass and he admired its whiteness against
the bench. It had been some time since he had whipped her and he felt a
sudden surge of longing to make her behind beet red again, perhaps even to
make it bleed.
ÒAnd me?Ó Sherry asked, sensing his thoughts. Steve shifted in the
leather chair he was sitting in. It was his turn to feign misunderstanding.
ÒYou?Ó he asked.
ÒYes,Ó she said. ÒMe.Ó She hit a very low note on the piano and it
rang out loudly.
ÒYou have a very nice ass,Ó Steve said. He grinned. ÒIÕm glad you
agreed to have them come earlier.Ó Sherry looked at the pale blue sky
beyond the road, through a gap in the trees, and wondered what color the
part of herself she was sitting on would be by the time the horizon turned
red.
ÒYouÕre going to hurt me, after I hurt her,Ó Sherry said. She did not
hit a key again but stared at her husband. His penis, full of his blood and
pumping visibly with his pulse, was brick red.
ÒYou think too far ahead,Ó he answered.
ÒIÕm worried about my butt,Ó Sherry said frankly. Her eyes widened.
Her breath was coming more quickly now and Steve admired the way her
tits moved. ÒYou were rough with me last time. Too rough,Ó Sherry said.
Steve grinned again, more broadly than before.
ÒIt canÕt be helped,Ó he said quietly.
ÒDonÕt make me bleed,Ó Sherry implored him. ÒPlease.Ó
ÒYou have to be cruel to be kind,Ó Steve said.
ÒMy mother is coming in a week and I want to be able to sit down for
her, Steve. Please,Ó Sherry answered. Suddenly Steve rose. He turned his
head and looked out the window, his penis displayed in the room, the air
coming in through the window and removing the last traces of SherryÕs
saliva.
ÒItÕs them. I hear their car,Ó Steve said. As he said it Sherry heard
the sound of the engine too and, seeing her husband turn and look out the
window, she did too, but she did not have his confident stare. Rather she
gazed frightened and timid, like a rabbit suddenly aware of a car bearing
down in the darkness.
ÒYes. ItÕs them,Ó Steve said. He watched as a sport sedan, red in
color, slowed on the road beyond and turned into their driveway.
ÒSteve. Please,Ó Sherry whispered. Her voice was high, like the
notes she had struck when she first began looking out at the road.
ÒYou will greet them,Ó Steve said. ÒIÕm in no condition to go to the
door.Ó He glanced down at himself.
ÒIÕll have to put on a bra,Ó Sherry said, rising from the bench.
ÒNo,Ó Steve answered. ÒItÕs not unpleasant for a woman to be seen
naked. But a man... it would be too abrupt. Greet them and bring them into
the living room and say something about me, and then IÕll come in also.Ó
ÒLike that,Ó Sherry said. She gazed at her husbandÕs penis.
ÒOf course like this,Ó Steve answered. ÒYou said yourself I wouldnÕt
be able to zip myself back in again.Ó
There was the sound of car doors slamming. Sherry looked down at
herself, at her bare muff below the tight hem of her corset, beneath the
wiggling semi-freedom of her pushed-up breasts. She tugged at the base
of her corset. It was taut. She reached down and checked her stockings,
stretching up her legs to garters that hung down from her corset. They
were tight, both the straps along the fronts of her thighs and her
stockings. She reached back and did the same in the rear, behind herself,
checking the fit and tightness of the garters that molded themselves
slimly to her bottom, on their way down to her hose. The jut of her ass,
naked except for the garters trailing over it, quivered warmly. Her
stockings were white, pure, as were her garters and corset. Small roses
decorated the garters and the frilled upper portion of her corset, where
her breasts rested. But the roses were white too, white on white fabric,
with her white bottom sticking out behind her and her breasts, white like
her corset, jutting forth in front. Only her arms and legs, and face and
belly were tanned, and her shoulders and her hands. But her legs were
encased in white stockings all the way up to her ass, and now, as she
reached along the top of the shiny black piano, she picked up white gloves.
She slipped them over her hands. They matched her corset, white with
white roses, covering her hands to her wrists.
ÒYou look beautiful,Ó Steve whispered to his wife.
ÒIÕll be a mess in the morning,Ó she answered.
ÒSuch is life,Ó Steve said.
ÒDonÕt make me bleed,Ó Sherry told him.
The doorbell rang. Sherry hurried out of the room with the piano,
which was a formal dining room, and into the living room that led to the
front door. She grasped the doorÕs handle and opened it. Mark and BeckyÕs
eyes widened as they saw her nudity.
ÒCome in,Ó Sherry said, a sudden blush coming to her cheeks. ÒWeÕre
just getting ready.Ó
ÒWe- we can wait--?Ó Becky answered. Her voice was high and
tentative.
ÒNo. Please. You mustnÕt be left standing at the door,Ó Sherry said.
They entered. Becky would not have gone in but Mark put a hand to her
back and gently pushed her, making her step over the threshhold. Becky
turned her head as Mark pushed her, tried to speak to him, to protest, but
ended looking hastily at the road, as a car went by.
ÒYes. Come in. DonÕt make a show standing at the door,Ó Sherry,
blushing still more fully, down to her breast tips, added. The couple
finished stepping inside and Mark, in deference to SherryÕs nudity, turned
and closed the front door himself.
Becky clutched her purse. Her eyes were big as saucers and she wore
a small skirt, a miniskirt, much shorter than the one sheÕd worn in when
theyÕd visited at the weekÕs start. Beneath she wore black fishnet
stockings, and the ties that held the stockings to her legs were long
enough, hanging down, to be seen beneath the high hem of her skirt.
Pressing her purse to her breasts, which was a black leather purse, she
said,
ÒWe can only stay a little while.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Sherry said. Her voice had a note of indulgence in it.
Her blush began to fade. She was confident once more, in the face of this
frightened young newlywed wife that was suddenly in her home. ÒOf
course,Ó she said again. She ushered Becky to a sofa, holding her lightly
by her arm. She made her sit down. Mark sat down beside her. SherryÕs
eyes darted, involuntarily and reflexively, from Becky to her husband. The
man was hard. His crotch bulged with his desire.
ÒThe belts were helpful?Ó Sherry asked. She stood over them, her
breasts attracting MarkÕs eyes and making his young wife blush.
ÒBelts?Ó Mark, lost in admiration for Sherry, responded absently.
ÒChastity belts,Ó Sherry said. Boldly, to illustrate her question, she
reached down and with her hand touched MarkÕs crotch. He admired her
glove, the swing of her naked tits.
ÒOh. Yes,Ó Mark said. Sherry fell to her knees. Studiously avoiding a
gasp from Becky, she took hold of the zipper of MarkÕs fly. It was not hard
to find; the bulge in his crotch was stretching the front of his pants.
ÒYou need some air,Ó Sherry whispered. She said it to MarkÕs penis,
unzipping him as she spoke. Becky gasped again, but Sherry was
unflinching, professional, hardly balking at all when Mark suddenly leapt
out at her. She stared at his quivering form for a moment, his rude naked
hardness, and then, opening her mouth, and with a quick glance at Becky,
she popped the head of Mark into herself.
Becky let out a cry. Mark grunted. SherryÕs eyes showed surprise at
how big Mark was in her cheeks, making them bulge, forcing her lips
outward, clown-like, along the upper length of his shaft. Then a moment
later she had managed to accomodate him, despite his size, and she began
to suck.
It was almost subliminal, a smooth soft squelchy sound, Mark
feeling himself drawn upon like a straw, a big straw, as Sherry savored
the end of his penis. He had urinated on the way out, stopping along the
roadside to do it, standing among the stiff, tall trees, but she seemed not
to mind the taste of dried pee on the end of his dick, plumbing her mouth
with him as if he were a well-loved pacifier. She smiled up at him. He
felt himself drowning in her eyes. There was a sudden stirring in his
balls, which were still in his pants. Sherry felt him stiffen further,
excitedly, in her mouth, and she abruptly drew him out.
ÒNot yet,Ó she smiled. She held him in her hands a moment, admiring
him.
ÒOh God!Ó Mark gasped. His wife let out a soft bubbling sigh, like a
baby awakening from a dream.
ÒAh, youÕre out,Ó a low voice sounded. Mark and Becky and even
Sherry, down on her knees, looked up. A shadow fell across the floor and
Steve, backlit by the sunlight streaming in from the dining room, entered.
He gazed at his friends, at his wife.
ÒYou look very nice,Ó Steve said to Becky, taking his eyes off her
husbandÕs penis. Becky, blushing, grew yet more red-faced.
ÒSorry I--Ó Mark began. Steve, his own penis exposed, wearing a
suit while Mark was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, raised his hand.
ÒNo. YouÕre fine. Just donÕt spill yourself on my wifeÕs new carpet,Ó
Steve said. He trained his eyes on Becky, watching her squirm now on the
couch, the only one of the four of them still modestly dressed, if only in a
miniskirt and blouse. ÒAre you prepared for what will be happening this
evening?Ó Steve asked the young woman. She bowed her head. She looked
at the purse clutched in her hands, pressed tightly against her chest. ÒAre
you?Ó Steve asked again, when the woman failed to answer. The sound of
SteveÕs voice, harsh now in the room, made Becky jump with fright as she
sat on the couch.
ÒY- Yes,Ó Becky answered, but she did not look up, still staring at
her purse clutched to her breasts, her voice as soft and quiet as SteveÕs
was hard. On her knees, on the carpet, Sherry stroked MarkÕs manhood. He
reached out and put his arm around his wife, or tried to, as Sherry held
him. But Steve was quicker. The man strode over to Becky and grabbed her
arm. The young wife shouted. Steve yanked her to her feet. BeckyÕs purse
fell from her grasp to the floor. Sherry picked it up, still holding Mark
with her other hand. As she continued to kneel on the carpet she laid
BeckyÕs purse in the depression left by the young wifeÕs behind on the
couch.
Standing over Becky, with Becky standing up too, but with Steve
much taller than her, the man glowered down at the young wife. Mark was
going to protest at the rough removal of his wife from the couch but he
was suddenly distracted by Sherry, who put him back in her mouth. Steve
reached behind Becky. He lifted the back of MarkÕs wifeÕs skirt. Her
pantied ass was revealed, a full round behind clad in black. It was SteveÕs
first look at BeckyÕs ass in such a private way and the man, so fierce a
moment before, could be heard to draw in his breath. His penis quivered in
front of him, in front of Becky, as he gazed at the silken expanse of her
butt. It was smaller than his wifeÕs, which he hastily compared it to,
glancing down at his own wifeÕs jutting behind, naked in contrast to
BeckyÕs equally jutting, but still delicately clothed, ass. As for the young
wife, she now stared down over her breasts at the spectacle of SteveÕs
cock.
ÒWhat a nice little heart-shaped rear-end,Ó Steve managed to say.
Becky, had she not been gulping hard, her hands quivering in the air, unable
to have her purse and afraid of the cock sticking out from her assailant,
might have responded with a compliment of her own. SteveÕs dick was big,
bigger even than her husbandÕs. She had not had anything other than her
husbandÕs before and she felt herself startled and yet quickly aroused at
the thought of being so close to another manÕs penis. Her cuntlips in her
panties wettened. She blushed again, deeper than before, realizing that if
Steve went for her panties he would find her as suddenly excited as he
obviously was.
The next moments were not poetic, or even humane. Steve tried to
unzip the back of BeckyÕs skirt and, too aroused to find the zipper, yanked
at it. She screamed. Her arousal turned to fear. He tore off her skirt.
Then he ripped open her blouse, ignoring her beating hands which now
pushed at his chest and reached up to his face, even scratching his cheeks.
When he had gotten the blouse off her, tearing the fabric like an animal,
oblivious to the fact that she would have nothing of her own to wear home
if he ripped it, he went for her bra. He liberated her breasts. Urgently he
freed them from the cups, shredding the brassiere with his big, great
hands, stopping only when her bosoms, so perfect and fine and uptilted,
spilled involuntarily into his grasp. He stared.
ÒYouÕre gorgeous. Your breasts are gorgeous,Ó he panted. For a long
moment he looked at her, or rather at her cleavage, until a car could be
heard passing out on the road. Then, as if suddenly afraid he might lose
her, he squeezed her. He squeezed her tits. Becky shouted. Her tit flesh
compressed by SteveÕs hands, the man bent his head. He yanked one of her
breasts high, higher than the other. He put his mouth to it. Becky
screamed once more as he began to suck her, nearly devouring her tit in
his mouth, he like an alligator, she feeling his teeth as well as his lips
upon her skin, upon the nipple and the flesh surrounding it, he a great big
slobbering dog who had torn off her clothes and was now sucking her young
tit as if it were with milk.
When at last Steve lifted his face from Becky, having gorged at both
her breasts, making her panties very wet down between her legs, her
clothing torn and scattered on the floor, he gazed into her eyes.
ÒI want you to know something,Ó Steve said to Becky. She gulped.
Feeling his penis bump against her crotch, his hard nakedness hitting the
silk covering her bush, she looked up at him.
ÒYes?Ó she asked.
ÒYour husband loves you,Ó Steve said. His voice was hoarse. ÒI love
my wife. I donÕt love you. I admire you, yes, but I donÕt want you thinking
that what passes between us tonight is love, in any way.Ó Becky looked
down. Behind her, behind her and SherryÕs husband, who held her still by
her tits, moaning could be heard. Sherry had ripped off MarkÕs clothes,
much as Steve had ripped off BeckyÕs. The older man reached down and
grasped Becky by her soft chin. He lifted her eyes once more to hers, as a
sound very like that of a young man reaching orgasm came to both their
ears, from the couch. ÒCall what we do tonight lust, or discipline, or
training, or whatever you want,Ó Steve told Becky. ÒBut donÕt think for a
moment that I actually care about you, like I care about my wife. Do you
understand that?Ó Steve asked the young woman. Guitily she stared at
him. Then, slowly, she nodded. But he could see by the shining of her eyes
that she did not understand. She had only had one lover, and it was her
husband, and he loved her very much.
ÒThere must be a certain distance kept between us tonight,Ó Steve
said to Becky. He pulled her closer. She looked down but he forced her to
look up at him again. ÒNot physical distance, perhaps, but emotional
distance. The whip will help with that,Ó Steve said. BeckyÕs breath drew
in, suddenly, like a child remembering a bad thought. ÒYes,Ó Steve said,
still forcing her by her chin to look at him as he held her tightly against
him, against his penis, which was pressed up now like a bent re-bar
between them, hard against both their stomachs, against her bare belly
and his silk-shirted chest, between the open halves of his silk jacket.
ÒThe whip will hurt,Ó Steve said. ÒIn fact, it will hurt very much. It will
help keep the emotional distance between us. I would do it myself, to you,
using the whip on your wonderful ass, but if you are hurt too severely your
husband will blame me forever. So my wife will do it.Ó BeckyÕs mouth
opened wide. She screamed but she shoved her face into SteveÕs chest, and
the scream was muffled. Behind her, on the sofa, her husband reached
orgasm. Sherry had not intended to bring him off so quickly but she loved
the taste and the feel of him, the bigness of him, almost as big as her
husband, and after sheÕd gotten him naked she could not restrain herself.
He came in her mouth. But Steve and Becky, standing in front of them,
were in their own world.
ÒYes,Ó Steve said to Becky. He patted her head as he felt tears from
her face, appearing suddenly, wet his shirt. He gazed down past the back
of her head, past her long flowing brown hair, at her black-pantied bottom.
ÒMy wife will wield the whip,Ó he told her. ÒYou will be put in a great
deal of pain when she does it, but you mustnÕt blame her, she is merely my
instrument, the instrument of my training. I have taught her well. She
knows what sheÕs doing. Another man might go easier on a first-timer
like you but I donÕt believe in that. I want her to whip you hard. It will be
light and easy at first but you must not be mistaken, and I donÕt want you
begging to be let up when her tempo increases. You may scream, of
course,Ó Steve said, patting the back of BeckyÕs head as she sobbed into
his shirt, making little self-pitying noises as her husband, sitting on the
couch behind her, gave satisfied gasps of pleasure. ÒBut you must go the
distance with your bottom. You must hang in there. IÕm telling you now so
that when you do scream, and plead as you will, you understand that there
can be no relief. I do not want you thinking that if you yell loudly enough
in your pain I will let you up. You will hate me afterwards, perhaps, if you
think you can convince me otherwise. Once you are tied down and your ass
is bared to the whip there can be no going back. Do you understand?Ó he
asked her again. She sobbed, quietly. She made no answer except the
gurgling in her throat. He patted the back of her head again, as if
consoling a small child. He felt himself against her belly and he moaned.
His speech became slurred, he began repeating himself. ÒYou will be made
to go the distance, forced,Ó he told her. ÒThe bed will be soft and
comforting... yes, there will be a bed, it will be done in our bedroom,Ó he
told her, seeing her lift her head slightly, feeling her head move in his
hand. ÒBut there will be no respite for your upthrust behind. You must
understand that. I do not hate you, I do not love you. I have admiration for
your youth and your beauty, thatÕs all. It isnÕt an emotional thing,Ó he
assured her, and then felt himself move, snake-like, against her belly.
ÒPassionate, yes, but not angry.Ó He patted her head again. ÒNever angry,Ó
he assured her. ÒEven when I grab you, as already once I had to, I donÕt
want you to think IÕm doing anything except forcing things along, moving
along... it is not real anger, like anger between two men.Ó
ÒOh God!Ó Mark, behind Becky and Steve, cried out.
ÒYou came all over me,Ó Sherry answered. She stood up. Reluctantly
she let his now-drooping member pass out of her hands. As she turned,
Steve saw that his wifeÕs face, around her lips and all down her chin and
her throat, and upon her breasts, on the upper half of them, was covered
with sperm.
ÒYou were not to make him come,Ó Steve said to Sherry.
ÒI couldnÕt help it. He became excited and-- and so did I,Ó Sherry
said. She blushed. ÒItÕs been awhile since we entertained another couple.Ó
ÒYouÕre a mess,Ó Steve said to his wife.
ÒI know,Ó Sherry answered. She walked over to where Steve was
standing with Becky. It was only a step or two and a moment later she
was lightly touching BeckyÕs behind, pulling her gloves off first so that
she would not stain BeckyÕs panties with sperm from her husband.
ÒSuch a nice ass,Ó Sherry said. Becky flinched as she felt the older
woman touch her bottom.
ÒShe looks pretty in her panties, donÕt you think?Ó Steve asked his
wife.
ÒYes,Ó Sherry answered. ÒYou wouldnÕt let me wear any.Ó
ÒI love your broad womanÕs bottom,Ó Steve said.
ÒBut you like hers too,Ó Sherry answered. She tugged lightly at
BeckyÕs panties. The girl flinched again but her hands did not leave
SteveÕs chest.
ÒAll men are attracted to young schoolgirl bottoms,Ó Steve said.
Sherry pulled open the back of BeckyÕs panties. She peeked at the round
flesh inside, ball-like, creased by a tight crack that tautened even more as
she gazed at it. Suddenly BeckyÕs hands darted out from between Steve
and herself. They flew back. They batted SherryÕs light touch away and a
snap could be heard as BeckyÕs panties, suddenly released from SherryÕs
grasp, closed once more upon her behind.
ÒOoooh!Ó Becky cried. Her head flew up as she felt the sting of her
panties snapping against her bottom.
ÒOh! She has been hurt!Ó Sherry said. There was mockery in her
voice. Becky rubbed her ass, her fingers sliding up and down over the
black fabric of her panties.
ÒGo clean yourself off,Ó Steve said to Sherry. He cupped BeckyÕs
head in his hand. ÒIÕll take her into the bedroom,Ó Steve said. He glanced
at Mark. The young man was naked except for his shoes and socks. There
was sperm on his dick, his balls, on the couch under him and on the carpet.
ÒAnd clean him too,Ó Steve said.
ÒWith my tongue?Ó Sherry teased.
ÒQuickly. She will not remain agreeable for long,Ó Steve told his
wife. He held Becky tightly. Walking in step with her, he guided her
toward the bedroom he shared with his wife.
All was in readiness. It was a big bed, with fine brass headboards
that glowed with a golden glow as the sun set beyond the bedroom window.
There were few cars on the road. But Steve, to be safe, went and pulled
the window closed, and drew the curtains over them, as Becky stood
trembling by the bed.
Steve turned. He saw Becky staring at the whip lying across the
twin pillows of the bed. It was black, jet black, like the panties that
hugged her quivering bottom and like her fishnet stockings.
ÒYes,Ó Steve said. ÒAs you can see there is salve and such on the
nightstand for afterwards.
ÒA- Afterwards?Ó Becky asked. Steve saw that her knees were
trembling. He saw her eyes dart from the whip on the pillows to ropes,
white ropes, looped around the brass bars of the headboard, their ends
dangling down over the pillows. Two ropes at the base of the bed waited
for her feet.
ÒYes,Ó Steve said. He directed BeckyÕs gaze to the nightstand beside
the bed, pointing with his finger. ÒOintment, salve, things to help your
bottom heal. It will be a womanÕs bottom then, experienced, not a little
girlÕs bottom anymore like you have now.Ó BeckyÕs hands, which had fallen
to her sides, flew back to her ass once more.
ÒI donÕt want a womanÕs bottom,Ó she gasped.
ÒYour ass will be as lovely as before, but it will no longer be
innocent,Ó Steve said. ÒAfter it heals, that is,Ó he added. ÒThe creams
and such will help it heal more quickly.Ó BeckyÕs eyes, already wide, grew
bigger as they fell upon a stick. It lay on the nightstand, the jars of
ointment close-packed around it. Yet even with it half-hidden, Becky
could make out enough of it to feel a sudden fear in her already quailing
belly. The stick had several balls fixed to it, as if meatballs, skewered by
the stick. The first ball was small but the others, in succession, loomed
larger and larger, until the last, which Becky could just make out over the
top of a jar, was as big as SteveÕs fist.
ÒWh- whatÕs that?Ó Becky asked. It was her turn to point. Steve
walked over to the table. He reached down between the jars and picked up
the stick.
ÒThis?Ó he asked. Hastily Becky, still modestly clad in her panties
and stockings, nodded. Her naked breasts bounced on her chest.
ÒItÕs for your ass too,Ó Steve told the young wife. He looked into her
big eyes. He held the stick with both hands and she watched it bend,
stiffly, like something made of aluminized rubber. The balls were shiny.
They would have been golden if the sun were still shining through the
window. Instead they were silver, mirror-like, but solid-looking. ÒAfter
you are whipped, IÕm going to put this up you. Up your ass,Ó Steve told the
young wife. Becky clutched at her rear. ÒAt lunch, this past week, your
husband told my wife about the difficulty he has had taking you there. You
refuse him and even when he gets you to agree, you are too tight for him.
This will help.Ó
ÒWill- will it hurt?Ó Becky asked, her knees knocking together now,
in their black fishnet stockings, as her hands held her bottom as tightly as
they could.
ÒThere is no progress without resistance,Ó Steve said. He smirked.
ÒOr, no pain, no gain, as they say.Ó Then he let off with the quotes and
looked at the trembling wife in all seriousness and said, ÒThe implement
is designed to introduce your bottom slowly to the concept of being filled.
That is why the first ball is the smallest.Ó
ÒBut- but the others--?Ó Betsy asked in a high-pitched voice.
ÒThey will be well oiled,Ó Steve said. He indicated the vials and
pots on the nightstand.
ÒIt will hurt!Ó Betsty shouted.
ÒYes, it will hurt,Ó a female voice said. Betsy whirled about. Sherry
had entered the room. MarkÕs sperm had been cleaned off the older woman
now, but she held BetsyÕs husband by his penis and the man, stiff again,
looked as if he might cum in her hand. Awkwardly Mark looked at Betsy.
His eyes were embarrassed but glazed-over with pleasure. With a cry the
girl realized that Steve was her husband now, at least for the moment, and
he was gazing at her uncompromisingly, holding the stick in his hands that
had the balls of increasing size on it.
Sherry saw the panic in BetsyÕs eyes. She felt pity for the young
wife. Suddenly, still holding Mark, but with obvious interest in BetsyÕs
condition, she said,
ÒSit down, Mark.Ó She pointed to a chair. It was made of hard wood,
but with a cushion on the seat, and tied to the back of it, where the back
rested. Both cushions were edged with frilly lace. ÒAnd you also, Becky,Ó
Sherry said, pointing to another chair, identical to the first. Steve looked
at his wife with perplexity.
ÒIÕm going to serve crumpets and tea,Ó Sherry said. She gave her
husband a look that brooked no disobedience. This was a womanÕs
decision, on behalf of another woman. ÒYou sit down too, dear,Ó Sherry
said to her husband. ÒIÕll be back in a minute.Ó
Mark watched Sherry leave. He had no problem with sitting down. It
was wonderful to feel the soft cushion against his balls, and the fullness
of them, despite his earlier ejaculation. He had waited all week to cum
and he still had a lot to give. He looked at his wife lewdly, after Sherry
had left the room. Quietly she sat down on a chair opposite his. Steve,
looking glum, sat down on a chair next to Becky. The thing with the balls
on it was still in his hands. Becky gave it a sidelong glance. She drew her
legs together and sat up very straight in her chair.
ÒI see youÕve got something there,Ó Mark, half-drunk with pleasure,
said to Steve.
ÒYes. For your wife,Ó Steve answered. MarkÕs eyes widened.
ÒOh!Ó Mark said.
ÒWhat you said to my wife earlier, about your wifeÕs inexperience,Ó
Steve continued, speaking in half sentences now, his cock bothering him
with its stiffness, gazing across the bedroom at MarkÕs dick, hard like his
own, but not with the edge of pleasure denied that he felt. Becky quivered
in her seat beside him. He could feel the warmth of her body.
ÒYouÕre going to--?Ó Mark asked.
ÒYes,Ó Steve said. ÒUp her butt.Ó
ÒOh!Ó Becky cried. She stood up. Her hands clapped themselves to
her bottom. Mark gazed at his wifeÕs muff, as did the man sitting next to
her. It was small and neat, the slight bulge of the matted hair just
noticeable through the front of her panties.
ÒSit down,Ó Steve growled. He said it so violently, like a
schoolmaster who would give no excuses, that Becky, frightened, plopped
back into her chair. But now she was sitting on her hands. Her breasts,
thrust out by her posture, quivered nakedly. Steve saw that the tips were
hard, as did Mark.
ÒYou are excited,Ó Steve said. He had noticed how BeckyÕs panties
had looked when she had been standing, a slight stain darker than the
surrounding fabric down where her cuntlips folded between her thighs. He
gazed from her black panties to her white breasts. ÒYou are excited,Ó
Steve said again.
ÒNo!Ó Becky said. She tried looking at Steve but then turned her head
quickly away. Even Mark, speaking now, repeating SteveÕs words, could not
get her to look at him either.
ÒYou are going to be the center of attention, in a few minutes, and I
think something about that, about being naked in front of me, in front of
my wife, excites you. Above and beyond the excitement you feel for your
husband,Ó Steve said to the girl. ÒYou like the idea of being made to be
naughty, donÕt you?Ó Steve asked Becky. ÒYou like the idea of being
stripped bare, of being bound to the bed like a young heifer, of being struck
on your naked little ass, which everyone has admired since you first
started filling out. Even though you donÕt know what itÕs going to feel
like, even though IÕve warned you how uncompromising I am, and how it
will hurt, still, even so, you are aroused by the idea of making a spectacle
of your ass, of feeling your breasts wiggle mercilessly under you as my
wife-- yes, my wife! makes your bottom bounce.Ó
ÒStop!Ó Becky yelled, sitting on her hands on the soft cushion of the
chair.
ÒWhat? Hmmm?Ó Sherry asked. She strode into the room. She
carried a tray. Mark and Steve looked instinctively at the tray and then,
just as quickly, their eyes fell to her bare belly, behind the tray, and
below that, to her bare blonde muff, neatly trimmed between her white-
stockinged thighs.
ÒYou have a beautiful wife,Ó Mark said to Steve.
ÒThanks,Ó Steve answered.
ÒOh! I want one!Ó Becky, perhaps with an urgency designed to
recover herself as the centerpiece of the room, suddenly called out. One
of her hands flew out from under her bottom. She reached up to the tray,
which was within an armÕs length reach, and plucked an item from it. It
was a sugared crumpet.
ÒA British snack. I think they invented the use of a whip on a girlÕs
bottom, didnÕt they, dear?Ó Sherry smiled.
ÒThe French,Ó Steve answered. Sherry walked over to Mark. The
young husband gazed lovingly up at her, staring at her breasts hanging over
the tray.
ÒTake one,Ó Sherry said. She giggled as Mark reached past the tray
for her right tit. Quickly she stepped back. ÒYouÕre too randy,Ó she
scolded. She recrossed the room to her husband. Becky, eating her
crumpet, had dribbled white sugar not only on her bare breasts but also on
her black panties, down on the bulge of her matted pubic har.
ÒSuch a messy eater,Ó Sherry said. She let her husband take a
crumpet from the tray. There were four cups of coffee on the tray and he
helped himself to one of those too. And then, gallantly, knowing she would
want it in a moment, he took a cup of coffee for Becky, sitting beside him,
balancing the crumpet heÕd taken on his thigh.
ÒI want one,Ó Mark called from across the room.
ÒIÕm coming,Ó Sherry said. ÒAgain.Ó She laughed.
When their snack was over, the sun setting now beyond the closed
bedroom curtains, casting a warm ruddy glow that made the curtains blood
red, it was time. They all knew it. They stared at each other in the
gathering dusk in the room. Becky was sitting on her hands again, but her
wide eyes showed a new confidence. It may have only been the caffiene in
the coffee but she was no longer wilting, no longer weak and teary-eyed,
no longer needing to press her face against SteveÕs chest. Across the
room from her Sherry sat in her husbandÕs lap. She watched as the other
woman stroked her husbandÕs hard cock but it did not seem to bother her,
she accepted it, feeling the heat from SteveÕs body as he sat close by her,
holding her coffee cup from her, which she had drained.
ÒStand up,Ó Steve said to Becky in the quiet of the bedroom. She
obeyed. She was aware of all their eyes on her. She, like Sherry, still
wore her shoes, black high-heeled shoes in contrast to SherryÕs white
ones. The shoes gave an extra elevation to her bottom and she turned
slightly in them, showing herself off, letting their eyes drink in her figure
and, especially, her jutting black-pantied bottom.
ÒGet on the bed,Ó Sherry, still in MarkÕs lap, said gently to the girl.
Becky walked the few steps to the side of the bed facing her. Still she
could feel all their eyes on her bottom, and as she mounted the bed,
throwing her knee up onto it and crawling up in it with her ass raised high,
Sherry, admiring her behind from across the room, said, ÒThe panties.Ó
ÒOh!Ó Becky sighed. She stopped. She raised herself up, on her knees
but with her back straight now. She reached back behind herself. Like a
child unwrapping a present, slowly, savoring the first glimpses of it, she
drew down the back of her undies. There was a soft exhalation in the
room, three mouths whispering in admiration. BeckyÕs ass was white, as
white as SherryÕs, but smaller, childlike, high and round and impishly
thrusting. Becky drew her panties down to the crease of her flesh at the
bottom of her behind. And then she pulled them lower, down past her
stockinged thighs to her knees, the bit of fabric caught between the lips
of her pussy snapping now as it was yanked out of her cunt.
ÒOh!Ó Besty sighed again, at the feel of the panties leaving her
pussy, snapping down along the insides of her thighs. Betsy pulled her
panties over her knees, crawling forward again on the bed. When her
panties were down by her shoes she looked perplexed. She was going to
roll over, onto her lovely white ass, onto her back, but Steve, rising up,
stopped her. Touching a hand to her bare back he said,
ÒNo.Ó He pulled BeckyÕs panties off her shoes as she waited, on her
knees, infant-like, waiting to crawl forward the last few inches to the
head of the bed. Steve held up BeckyÕs panties when they were off her.
Sherry and Mark smiled. They admired the bit of fabric, seeing its wet
spot in the crotch. As for Becky, she put her head down on the pillow, on
top of the whip. She let her bottom ride high behind her, a white moon in
the bedroom for all to see.
Sherry stood up. MarkÕs dick quavered like a tuning fork as she left
it behind, unclasping it. She walked over to the bed, to the side that had
the nightstand next to it, the side opposite her husband. Gently she
reached down and took hold of the back of BeckyÕs head. By her hair she
lifted the girlÕs head slightly, gripping her hair close. She withdrew the
whip from under BeckyÕs face.
ÒTie her,Ó Sherry told her husband. Steve went quickly to work.
Becky, fearful now, tried sucking her thumb but it was rudely pulled from
her mouth and the man, who had admitted to her that he did not love her,
bound her wrists in front of her to the headboard. Then he bound her feet,
letting her keep her bottom high but tying her ankles so that her legs were
spread wide. Becky felt the air of the room upon her bottom, upon her
forced-apart bottom crack. She shivered. She was naked except for her
stockings and shoes. She looked back behind herself. Over the split-
cheeked hump of her white ass she could see her panties. Steve had
gaudily hung them over a lampshade, on a tall lamp at the back of the
room. They were on display, like her bottom, arranged so that even the
wet spot in their crotch showed. ÒShe will need to be gagged,Ó Sherry told
her husband. ÒI donÕt want her biting her tongue in two.Ó Steve complied.
His eyes were glazed now too, like MarkÕs, though he worked very quickly
because he was so desperate to cum, unlike the younger man. Becky,
looking up at Steve, past the rebar of his penis, saw the strange light in
his eyes. As he fitted the gag into her mouth she realized he was no
longer himself now, was drunk on passion. Anything might happen to her
now and he might not even notice until it was too late. Quickly she turned
her head back, looking over her shoulder again. Sherry stood behind her.
But she was rubbing herself, and her eyes had a definite look of uncaring
pleasure in them, her hand down at her crotch, leading herself by her
cuntlips toward her first orgasm of the night.
ÒNo!Ó Becky cried. But nobody heard or, rather, they just heard a
strangled gasp, deep down in her slender throat, as Sherry, still rubbing
herself, raised the whip. ÒNo!Ó Becky cried again. It was too late. As both
Steve and Mark grabbed their dicks, the whip fell.
30
sherry- blonde
steve
becky-brunette
mark
--------------------
Chapter One
ÒIt will be delightful, donÕt you think?Ó Kara asked. She tossed her
brown hair casually as she spoke, her eyes flashing in the setting sun. She
gazed at Ted, Bill. They grinned in response. The last rays of the sun
glinted off their bronzed chests, carved like ivory and browned by their
surfing.
Wendy had a confused look on her face. They were four college kids,
and she was the youngest. She tugged at the waistband of her bikini
panties. She pulled them higher, to the extent that they could go any
higher, and ran her fingers along the sides to the bows to make sure they
were secure.
ÒI- I donÕt know,Ó Wendy said. She looked at her friends. From their
knowing glances, it was not hard to guess who theyÕd pick to be victim:
herself. Blonde, fair-skinned, studious, yet beautiful, she was a late
bloomer who had started first grade at five, not six, and so was now a 17-
year-old college freshman. She was the least experienced of the four,
having had only one boyfriend in high school, and the others liked to rib her
about her sexual naivete.
ÒDonÕt look so scared,Ó Kara smiled at Wendy. ÒIt will just be us
four. The woman said we could have the place to ourselves; all night if we
wish.Ó
ÒIÕm game,Ó Ted offered. He flexed his arms. They were big, the
result of regular weightlifting since his freshman year in high school. He
looked at Bill. The football player nodded. He was older, 25, in his last
year of college and held back because of poor grades, which meant he could
play more football.
ÒSure,Ó Bill agreed. The muscles of his chest grew taut, then
relaxed, as if he were limbering himself up for a game.
ÒSo weÕre agreed,Ó Kara said, as if WendyÕs protest had been
something to be ignored, like the objections of a third world country hit
by American bombs.
ÒYes, I think so,Ó Bill said. He stood up. The sun behind his back
cast a shadow over the table, over Wendy too, sitting across from him.
Her eyes grew suddenly large in the shade. She was no longer able to see
the sun, just Bill, his figure towering over her like that of a lion over a
small, wide-eyed rabbit. Wendy checked her panties again. BillÕs cock
bulged at her through his swim-shorts. Kara looked at Bill and the smiling
gaze in her eyes showed that she too saw his newfound erection. As if in
competition Ted stood up too, abruptly, showing that he also had become
excited by their proposal. Wendy slunk lower in her chair, her hands
tightly holding her panties. Kara stood, tossed back her hair. She had a
substantial bosom and it jutted with promise over the table, rising and
falling maternally with her breath, the two menÕs eyes gliding down to her
tits to admire them as she spoke.
ÒI think itÕs a marvelous opportunity. Essential, really, if weÕre to
pass our final in history. We canÕt just surf and swim all the time while
weÕre in Europe. LetÕs go tell her right now that we accept.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Bill said. His voice was deep. Ted, a sophomore, nodded
quickly, eager to keep abreast of his older friend. Kara, a sophomore too,
reached down and clasped WendyÕs arm. She tugged at the 17-year-old.
Wendy resisted. Kara looked down. She pushed back the brown hair that
fell in front of her face, long and lustrous, and smiled.
ÒCome on, silly,Ó Kara told Wendy. ÒGet up. SheÕll rent the place to
someone else if we donÕt hurry.Ó
ÒBut itÕs a dungeon!Ó Wendy said. Her voice came out high and
squeaky. There was a masculine chuckle from Bill and Ted.
ÒYes. A real dungeon-- one used in the Inquisition,Ó Kara agreed.
ÒDonÕt you think it will be great for our history class?Ó
ÒBut--Ó Wendy said, only to feel her arm tugged on again, this time
so hard that she was forced to rise out of her chair. Her breasts, cupped
by her bikini bra, jiggled like trapped mounds of jello, drawing the menÕs
eyes from KaraÕs tits to hers.
ÒLetÕs go,Ó Kara urged. She turned. She began to walk up a short
stony path to a house. It brooded over the beach, like an old beached ship
that had once known fast winds and high tides, only to find itself
marooned at last on the shoreline. It had once been an aristocratÕs
mansion. When times grew lean, and the world changed, it had become a
merchantÕs home. Finally it had become a bed and breakfast, owned by a
woman who made a few dollars renting its basement to curious tourists.
For long before the house had been built, a castle had stood on the
hill. Time had crumbled the stones and war had finished them, but
somehow, no matter who owned the castle, they always found a use for
the room down below, the cellar, where the torture equipment stood. Its
original owner, its designer, were lost in the ruins of time. But each
subsequent owner refurbished what was there, and put it to work. Now,
people only came willingly, except perhaps for Wendy, stumbling up the
path behind Kara and still squeakily raising objections.
ÒBut I donÕt want to spend the night in a dungeon!Ó Wendy gasped.
Her breath came in gasps as she walked up the steep hill behind Kara. Bill
and Ted followed, their eyes glued to the two girlÕs pert asses, guessing
perhaps that neither would soon be able to sit on their lovely behinds,
once they had taken up residence in the dungeon.
ÒIt will be only for a few hours, or the night at most,Ó Kara said. ÒIt
was so nice for the woman to come down to the beach and offer us her
place, donÕt you think? She doesnÕt even want us to pay her until weÕve
had a chance to go back to our school. So we should say yes, before
someone else comes along and finds it and decides to stay for the night.Ó
The woman of whom Kara spoke stood at the window. She was on the
first floor, looking out from the house, from the parlor, unseen by her
arriving guests because of the glare of the sun on the glass. She lifted a
teacup to her lips. She sipped. The tea was hot, fresh from the kettle.
Yes, they were a delicious group. Two guys and two girls, Òin the season
of the rising sap and the warming honey,Ó to quote from an author sheÕd
read. College kids, eager and young, the males striding up the hill with
obvious yearning, one big and dark, the other more slender, younger. Both
of them hard. The two females were fetchingly bold and innocent, one
brunette, the other blonde, one tanned, the other, smaller and more
careful, with lovely skin that had seen only a little sun. They drew near
the house. She studied them more closely. Their bodies were perfect. The
males had broad shoulders, strong legs and arms. The females offered
breasts that were sumptuous, the brunette big-chested, the blonde
smaller, but perhaps still growing. They reached the door. They rang. The
woman hurried to let them in.
They stood downstairs in the cellar. They gazed around, the males
now with rigid poles in their swim shorts, the females apprehensive, even
the brunette, who had come so boldy up the hill. The blonde trembled,
visibly, her bare knees bumping together.
ÒYes, this is it,Ó Ginger said. She swept her arm about the room.
Centuries-old equipment stood under a soft glow of electric lights. ÒIt all
still works. When something breaks, I repair it. There is a rack, a wedged
horse, a cage for the disobedient. Be careful of the whips. They hurt.Ó
She grinned, her arms taking in a wall hung with two dozen straps.
ÒAnd-- we can stay-- all night if we wish?Ó Kara asked. Her voice
came out high and halting, breathless. She gripped the blondeÕs arm still,
though now perhaps for a kind of backhanded moral support.
ÒYes. IÕll check on you once or twice if you wish,Ó Ginger said. ÒAnd
bring down refreshments.Ó
ÒSure. Okay,Ó Bill said. He tugged at his swimshorts, though not to
keep them up, as Wendy did.
ÒI donÕt think--Ó Kara, blushing, began to say, but Ted interrupted
her.
ÒWhat kind of refreshments will you have?Ó he asked.
ÒHot tea,Ó Ginger said, Òand crumpets. To keep your strength up.Ó
ÒYeah. Okay,Ó Bill agreed. Ted nodded.
ÒBut I must go now,Ó Ginger said. ÒMake yourselves at home. If you
get tired doing your research for school, there are beds upstairs.Ó
ÒRight,Ó Bill chimed. And then she was gone, up the cellar stairs and
closing the door at the top of the stairs behind her. The four, warmed by
tea in her parlor before coming downstairs, gazed around the room and at
each other. The menÕs shorts grew greater projections. The two females
were not unaware of their excitement, their own bra cups rising as their
nipples grew stiff.
ÒWe should undress,Ó Kara said at last, still clutching WendyÕs arm.
ÒBut why?Ó Wendy squeaked.
ÒBecause thatÕs what happened during the inquisition, silly, people
were stripped naked,Ó Kara answered.
ÒI agree,Ó Bill said. He yanked down his shorts. His penis greeted
the girls. Both gasped and stepped back. Ted went more slowly, doing a
sexy dance with his hips as he pulled his shorts down.
ÒAnd now us,Ó Kara said, turning to Wendy. She reached for the back
of the girlÕs bra. Wendy clutched at her right tit with her one free hand.
But Kara undid the bow at the back of her bra and the left cup fell free,
exposing WendyÕs left tit before her struggling fingers could reach across
and catch it. As Wendy reached for her left breast her right cup fell away,
and now both her tits were exposed, drawing the menÕs eyes to the fair
skin and the twin cherry nipples. Kara took advantage of the position of
WendyÕs arms, one in her own hand and the other poised between her ample
breasts, to reach for and undo her panties. A quick slip of the right tie and
the panties came undone, only the left tie remaining, the fabric inbetween
falling floorward to show WendyÕs pussy.
ÒYeah!Ó Bill enthused.
ÒAlright,Ó Ted agreed, his penis, like BillÕs, stretching forth toward
WendyÕs body. Kara got hold of WendyÕs left tie and undid it. WendyÕs
panties skittered down to her ankles, there to lie between her bare feet,
completely undone.
ÒOh no!Ó Wendy gasped.
ÒYes. Now be good,Ó Kara said. She let go of WendyÕs arm. She
reached back and untied her own bra as Wendy groped toward the floor,
trying to recover her panties. But Bill was too quick for her. He grabbed
her and pulled her upright, leaving her panties between her feet, where
they had fallen. Wendy tried to pick up her panties with her toes but Ted
ended the matter by reaching down and picking them up himself.
ÒYou wonÕt be needing these for awhile,Ó Ted grinned at Wendy.
Kara, her bra having fallen to the floor, exposing her breasts, slipped down
her own panties and gracefully pulled them off her feet.
ÒLetÕs try that thing first,Ó Kara said. She pointed to something that
looked like a picnic table, but built on the ground, without legs to raise it
to waist height. Ted picked up her panties.
ÒNo--!Ó Wendy said, but Bill, dragging her forward, made her step up
to the machine. He lifted her left leg. He made her straddle the middle of
it, which was not as wide as a picnic table but instead the width of a good
sturdy weightlifting bench. He forced Wendy to kneel. Her knees came to
rest on what, if the item were a picnic table, would have been the tableÕs
benches. The weight of WendyÕs body forced her breasts awkwardly off
the table, distending and warping them like plump ripe cantaloupes
suddenly squashed in the back of a truck. She gasped. Her face stuck out
beyond the end of the apparatus, her lips wide, her eyes like two big blue
moons. Kara, tossing her bra aside, letting it fall to the floor near where
WendyÕs own bra had fallen, walked up to the device. There was a stool
with a cushion on it sitting on the floor. The cushion looked clean. Kara
shoved the stool under WendyÕs chin with her foot to support the girlÕs
chin.
ÒOook!Ó Wendy said, feeling her face come to rest on the cushion. At
the same time she felt a curious sensation behind her. Bill, walking back
to the end of the device, had pushed the table forward. It slid in under
itself, so that the very end of it was now closer to WendyÕs bottom.
Something grazed against WendyÕs pussy, between her spread legs. It was
a wooden stud. It was no bigger than a finger but its effect was electric.
Whenver Wendy made the slightest movement, the well-positioned stud
rubbed her right between her small sex lips, touching her clitoris. Wendy
gasped again, her voice rising to a shout as she realized the vulnerability
of her place in the group. She was on her knees, her ass well-displayed
and her sexual excitement suddenly, and quite visibly, aroused. She tried
to get up but Ted put a hand on her back. Bill, still experimenting with the
machine, took hold of some leather straps built into it. He wrapped one
around WendyÕs left ankle. She felt the grip of the leather. A moment
later it was buckled and her left foot was immobile.
ÒYeah!Ó Ted said. He held Wendy down as Bill came over to his side
of the bench. The blonde struggled as she felt her right foot subjected to
the same imprisonment. And then, moving quickly, Bill next wrapped her
wrists in straps. When he was done the three of them chuckled, looking
down at the girl. She could do nothing but roll her big eyes and gasp with
her lips. And flex her bottom.
ÒI think it is for helping a girl learn to be disciplined,Ó Kara said.
ÒOr fucking an unwilling wench,Ó Bill said. He found a strip of
leather lying under the end of the bench, where WendyÕs face rested on the
stool. He picked it up and looked at it. Like the stoolÕs cushion, it looked
clean, although, in the scrubbed leather, he could see numerous teeth
marks. He reached down and forced WendyÕs lips wider. As she mewled in
protest, trying to speak over his suddenly inserted fingers, he wedged in
the leather.
ÒA gag,Ó Ted said.
ÒYep,Ó Bill agreed. He tied off the strap behind WendyÕs head.
ÒDoesnÕt she look pretty. And willing,Ó Kara laughed.
ÒLetÕs whack her ass and see what itÕs like,Ó Ted said. Wendy,
stunned, screamed her dissent but the gag muffled it. She looked at Ted,
at Kara, at Bill. They smiled back at her. Bill walked to the wall where
the whips hung. He took one down. He returned to Wendy but not to her
face. Instead, he got behind her ass. He aimed. He swung. The blow hit
Wendy and she screamed, fruitlessly, for the gag still kept her silent. At
the same time as a sharp pain assailed WendyÕs bottom, she was, in her
jerking response, aware of a too-pleasant sensation between her legs. It
was the stud! Wendy felt tears come to her eyes as she squeezed her ass
against the pain of the whip. But the same movement also tightened her
cunt on the stud, like a small oyster gripping a pearl. To WendyÕs horror,
gazing abjectly at her friends, she realized they were not aware of the
stud. It would send her into the throes of passion, if the whip kept hitting
her and making her jerk, causing them to think she was finding sexual
pleasure in the pain they were giving her!
30
-------------------------
The advertisement read, ÒWaiters needed.Ó He decided to apply. He
was 16, with blonde curls on his head that made girls want to see the
curls that grew lower down, past his Adonis-like chest, below his flat
athletic belly.
The woman behind the desk smiled when she saw him. He was
perfect, just what she was looking for. He was impressed by the size of
her tits.
ÒSo youÕd like a job?Ó she asked him. Her voice was soft, feather-
like. He had to come closer to her desk to hear her. She repeated his
question, like a langorous cat too lazy to speak louder as the summer sun
blazed behind her, setting in the west, behind a protective white blind.
ÒYes,Ó he said, feeling a little awkward. HeÕd seen a movie in school
about a black spider, luring a male to her web. The movie flashed through
his mind again now as he drew closer to her. But she had such
magnificent tits! He could barely take his eyes off them as he tried to
respond to her question. ÒYes a waiter,Ó he said. His voice, unlike hers,
was hurried, deep and loud and masculine. He spoke loudly to make up for
the softness of hers.
ÒYes,Ó she said. Or, rather, seemed to purr, simultaneously lifting
her delicate hand and brushing back her long black hair from her face.
ÒYes. We might have an opening,Ó she smiled. ÒWill you be available next
week?Ó she asked.
ÒUh-huh,Ó he answered.
ÒNext Friday night?Ó she asked.
ÒSure,Ó he agreed.
ÒIt will be a party,Ó she said. She gazed at his t-shirt, with a
football logo on it. It had a stain. It looked like ketchup. She looked at
his jeans. The knees were scuffed. His sneakers looked like old favorites,
ones that should have been thrown out six months ago. ÒYou will not need
to worry about wearing anything special,Ó she smiled at him, her lips
forming the words in a way that made him want to thrust himself still
closer to her. ÒHowever I will require you to take a bath when you arrive.Ó
His eyes widened. Her smile grew broader. ÒThat will not be a problem,
will it?Ó she asked.
ÒI- I guess not,Ó he answered.
ÒI have very particular clients,Ó she said.
ÒYes. Of course,Ó he agreed.
ÒYou are in high school?Ó she asked.
ÒUh-huh. Tenth grade at Western,Ó he said.
ÒAnd you have your work permit?Ó she asked.
ÒYes,Ó he said. He reached behind himself, put his hand against his
butt. He fished in his back pocket.
ÒYou donÕt have to show me,Ó she said. She used the movement of his
hand, into his back pocket, as an excuse to lower her eyes. She looked at
his crotch. He was aware of her eyes on him there and he developed a
bulge. His own eyes drank in her tits.
ÒAfter your bath I will give you something to wear,Ó she said to him.
She lifted her eyes to his face again. He struggled to tear his gaze away
from her breasts. ÒCan you stay the night?Ó she asked.
ÒUm, thereÕs a curfew,Ó he said.
ÒDonÕt worry about that. YouÕre allowed to stay out past curfew if
youÕre working,Ó she told him.
ÒOh. Yeah,Ó he said.
ÒTell your parents youÕll be on a boat and the boat will be gone for
the entire evening,Ó she told him.
ÒSure,Ó he answered. ÒDo I-- do I have to fill out a form or
anything?Ó he asked.
ÒYou mean a job applicaition?Ó she said.
ÒYes.Ó
ÒIt is not necessary,Ó she said, letting her eyes flick down to his
crotch again, where he had grown even more visible. ÒI donÕt really need
to know your name.Ó
ÒOh.Ó he said. ÒWell itÕs Jeff. Jeff Stanton.Ó She smiled. She
extended her fine-nailed, delicate hand to him. He felt the sharpness of
her fingernails as he took hold of her hand. Lightly he shook it, not
wanting to grip her too hard or hurt her. Her hand was warm.
ÒYou may call me Melissa,Ó she said.
ÒNice to meet you,Ó he told her.
ÒYou too,Ó she smiled. ÒYou may go now,Ó she said, and he
reluctantly let go of her hand. As he turned to leave his eyes again fixed
on her breasts. They were breathtaking. She absorbed his gaze and gently
waved goodbye to him with her hand.
As he reached the doorway to her office she suddenly said, ÒOh Jeff.Ó
ÒYes?Ó he asked. He turned and his eyes again fell to her breasts.
ÒThere is one small thing I must mention,Ó she said.
ÒYes?Ó he asked.
ÒPlease conserve your strength,Ó she told him.
ÒMy-- strength?Ó he asked.
ÒYes,Ó she purred. Her eyes fell to his groin. ÒIt is difficult for a
woman to address a young man on this subject but I will try,Ó she said. He
walked back toward her. His pace was awkward. His stiffening groin was
making his steps fall in a haphazard manner. ÒMy clients wish to have a
vigorous young man,Ó she said. ÒDo you play football?Ó she asked, looking
at his t-shirt.
ÒYes,Ó he said.
ÒPerhaps your coach speaks to you in this way the night before a big
game,Ó she said. She smiled. ÒPlease donÕt play with yourself in the
coming week.Ó
ÒOh,Ó he answered.
ÒYes,Ó she said. ÒIt is important that you be... presentable.Ó
ÒYou mean, like, quick and stuff?Ó he asked.
ÒNot too quick,Ó she said, brushing her hair back again, letting it fall
langorously over her slim delicate shoulders. He stood boldly before her,
as thick and hard and mascline as she was soft and supple.
ÒI- IÕll watch myself,Ó he said.
ÒGood,Ó she answered. She smiled. ÒThatÕs all,Ó she said.
All the following week one young man in the Brazilian barrio had
desperate, hungry erotic dreams. He could barely sleep, he was so stiff
with desire, thinking of the young woman with the long black hair. He
obeyed her injunction not to cum. He obeyed for three nights. Then on the
fouth night he lost himself, falling asleep on his belly, his hard-on caught
underneath him. For two days afterward he again managed to keep himself
whole, until finally Friday came, and he was back in the womanÕs office
again.
There was a young girl sitting in a chair by the womanÕs desk when
he arrived. She smiled at him. She had long red hair and a t-shirt and
jeans, like he wore, except her t-shirt had a picture of Hello Kitty on it.
The knees of her jeans had been deliberately ripped open. He saw her thin
kneecaps inside the holes, pressing outward against the denim. Her legs
were slim. He lifted his eyes to her breasts. They were fetching, young
pointed breasts that jutted into her shirt, filling the top half of it while
the lower part, being cut short, left her slender belly bare.
ÒHi,Ó he said to her.
ÒHi,Ó she smiled.
ÒJeff!Ó the woman with black hair behind the desk said. ÒThis is
Julie. She will be working with you tonight.Ó Jeff nodded at the girl. Her
smile turned sheepish. ÒI have an executive washroom where you both can
bathe before the party begins,Ó Melissa said. She smiled at both her
charges. She stood. Their eyes followed her slender figure as she rose up,
surmounted by her glorious tits. She wore a tight dress. It hugged her
like a glove. ÒThis way, please,Ó she said. Melissa rose out of her chair.
Jeff drew close to her. He clasped her hand. She tried to pull it away but
he was too quick, taking it hard in his own. She relented. She walked with
him, following the swaying hips of Melissa.
It was a small bathroom. It adjoined MelissaÕs office. It had a sink
with gold fixtures. The toilet was pink porcelian, the walls were covered
with green tiles. There was a tub, pink like the toilet. Towels were
stacked along the far side of it, which formed a ledge big enough for a
person to sit on. Amidst the towels were fresh, unwrapped bars of soap
and bottles of scented oil. Curiously, there was also a small flower vase,
made of lead crystal. But instead of a rose or a bouquet in it, there was an
arrangement of colored condoms, formed in the shape of a nosegay of
flowers. The tub had no shower fixture above it.
ÒWould you two like to bathe together or separately?Ó Melissa
smiled. Julie looked anxiously at Jeff. Behind the veil of her cheap
WoolworthÕs perfume he could smell tacos.
ÒI- I took a bath this morning,Ó Julie protested.
ÒI did too,Ó Jeff told Melissa.
ÒYes of course you did,Ó Melissa smiled. ÒBut like I said, my clients
are quite particular. They expect excellence in everything. You will each
be changing into a uniform, so I think a quick bath is in order, donÕt you?Ó
ÒI- I suppose so,Ó Julie relented. Jeff squeezed her hand harder.
ÒWeÕll bathe together,Ó he said.
ÒOh!Ó Julie gasped. MelissaÕs eyes fell to the girlÕs. At the same
time her hand travelled along the countertop enclosing the sink. It was a
marble countertop, green like the tiled walls. There was a silver bell
sitting on the counter, next to the sink. She picked it up. She offered it to
Julie.
ÒRing for me if you need assistance,Ó she said to the girl. Julie took
the bell in the palm of her small hand. She looked at it. Melissa looked at
Jeff.
ÒAs you can see, the washroom is equipped for... entertainment,Ó
Melissa told Jeff. Without looking he knew of what she was speaking. The
oils, the bouquet of condoms. ÒHowever I expect you to be on your best
behavior,Ó Melissa told Jeff. He nodded. She looked at his crotch and saw
him bulging there. At the same moment Julie looked too. Her hand was
warm in his. ÒCan you conduct yourself properly in the presence of this
young lady?Ó Melissa asked Jeff.
ÒYes,Ó he said.
ÒOh I donÕt think--Ó Julie began.
ÒPlease,Ó Melissa said to the girl. ÒWe must move quickly. The boat
will be leaving soon. When youÕre finished with your bath IÕll give you
your uniforms.Ó
She turned and walked out of the washroom. At the door she said,
over her shoulder, to Julie, ÒIÕll be right next door in my office. Use the
bell if you need me.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Julie said.
ÒGreat,Ó Jeff smiled.
They undressed. Jeff tossed his clothes on the floor. Julie folded
hers and laid them on the counter next to the sink. There was a certain
urgency in their undressing, two teens left alone together, both of them
glancing at each other even as they pretended to avoid the nakedness of
the other.
Julie reached back behind herself and unsnapped her bra. Jeff sighed
as her tits fell free.
ÒDonÕt look,Ó Julie cautioned.
ÒYou neither, Jeff said, liberating his penis. Her eyes flicked toward
him. Stiffly he grazed her bare thigh.
ÒSorry,Ó Jeff said.
ÒOh my,Ó Julie gasped.
When Julie had removed her panties and Jeff had yanked his
underpants all the way off, they both realized that the tub was still
empty.
ÒI- IÕll fill it,Ó Julie offered. She turned and bent over the raised
side of the tub. ÒDonÕt look,Ó she called back to Jeff, as she inadvertently
mooned him.
ÒYeah,Ó Jeff, stiff as a rail, answered. She had a lovely boyish
bottom, with chubby cheeks and slender hips, still waiting to fill out. As
she plugged the drain and turned on the water she gazed back past her hips
at JeffÕs cock. A banana, full grown in the jungles of Brazil, wouldnÕt have
been any bigger.
ÒOh my,Ó Julie breathed. The water began to splash into the tub. She
checked the temperature of the water with her hand.
ÒYou have a lovely ass,Ó Jeff told Julie.
ÒYou- you have a nice penis,Ó Julie answered.
As the tub filled they stared at one another. Jeff looked at her high,
pefect breasts and she gazed frankly at his dick.
ÒIt will be fun going to a party,Ó Julie said shyly.
ÒYeah. On a boat,Ó Jeff agreed. She reached out and lightly touched
his cock. Immediately she drew her hand back, as if it had been bitten.
Jeff laughed. Julie blushed and extended her hand again. Her fingers
played along his length.
ÒYou shouldnÕt do that,Ó Jeff told her.
ÒI know,Ó Julie answered. Lightly he placed a hand on her belly. He
felt its flatness move as she breathed, her breasts rising and falling with
the air moving in and out of her lungs. He lifted his hand up over the ridge
of her ribs. She giggled. Her breasts wobbled fetchingly with her laugh.
Jeff seized them, both of them, suddenly. Julie let out a scream.
Melissa opened the door of the washroom. Jeff was kissing Julie,
hard, his body pressed close, his cock trapped between their young bellies.
ÒJeff! Julie!Ó Melissa cried. Abruptly the young man let go of the
girl.
ÒI- IÕm sorry,Ó Jeff said. Julie had tears in her eyes and was red-
faced, but her gaze fell to JeffÕs cock as he released her. It quivered just
out of reach of the vee of her legs. Her furred nest seemed to beckon to it,
soft and inward curving, a drop of moisture on it, apparently from JedÕs
penis, wetting the hairs. Behind them the bath water was threatening to
overflow the tub.
Without speaking, Melissa swept past the two teens and reached in
over the tub. She turned off the water as Jeff stole a look at her lovely
behind. Then, still leaning in over the tub, Melissa lifted up the pile of
towels on the far ledge. She exposed a paddle underneath them. It was
made of wood. Jeff gasped as she drew it out.
ÒYou two could have flooded my bathroom!Ó Melissa said to the two
youngsters. ÒPut your hands on your knees, both of you.Ó
ÒWh- why?Ó Julie managed to stammer. Jeff, reaching for her hand,
gripped it. Proudly he offered his cock to MelissaÕs gaze, stiff and almost
painful with his need.
ÒI want to fuck,Ó Jeff said bluntly.
ÒYou will do as you are told,Ó Melissa said to the young man. She
waved the paddle at him. ÒTurn around,Ó she said. ÒI am hiring you both to
work, not to fool around.Ó
Impishly Jeff turned himself so that his ass faced Melissa. Julie,
gasping, was forced by JeffÕs grip on her hand to turn also. Jeff bent
forward and put one hand on his left knee, while still clutching at JulieÕs
hand. In bending he dragged Julie down, forcing her to bend too. Her long
red hair fell down in front of her face and her breasts.
Whack! The paddle connected with JeffÕs behind. He let out a howl.
Julie was conscious of his big penis wobbling frantically about from the
blow of the paddle. The next moment her ass felt the paddleÕs sting. It
caused her to rise on her toes, her back straightening, her breasts jiggling
like twin peaks made of pudding.
ÒOhhhhhh!Ó Julie howled, as the paddle made her bottom dance a
quick jig.
Whack! Jeff felt the paddle again. This time he stood straight,
JulieÕs grip on his hand pulling him up a little even as the paddle made him
stand erect. His free hand flew back to his ass. Julie, beside him, rubbed
her bottom urgently. Melissa, standing behind the two teens, gazed at
JulieÕs reddened behind and JeffÕs, his with a big pair of balls hanging
down between his strong thighs.
ÒYou will not fuck. You will not hug and kiss each other. You will
bathe yourselves, quickly, so that we may go,Ó Melissa told the
youngsters. ÒSince you cannot be trusted I will remain here and watch.Ó
ÒYesss,Ó Jeff hissed. He spoke for both teens, for Julie had begun
softly crying.
ÒGet in the tub, both of you,Ó Melissa said. They obeyed. Sniffling,
Julie began to soap herself, sitting down in the tub as Jeff stood over her.
His cock quavered only inches away from her face. She glanced up at him.
The blush in her cheeks, on either side of her rosebud lips, deepened.
ÒJeff. Pick up a bar of soap and wash yourself,Ó Melissa ordered.
ÒBut I have to pee,Ó Jeff said.
ÒNo!Ó Julie cried. She leaned back away from his cock.
ÒNot in the tub,Ó Melissa told Jeff. She pointed to the condoms.
ÒPut on one of those,Ó she said. ÒI donÕt want you sneaking a piss when
you sit down in the water.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Jeff said. Still standing over Julie, who was now pressed
against the front of the tub, where the faucet pressed painfully into her
back, he reached down and pulled a condom free of the nosegay. He picked
up a bottle of scented oil and flipped open the top. Liberally he squirted
his rock-hard penis, JulieÕs big eyes watching from under her lovely loose
hair as he doused himself. Then he put the coin-sized condom against the
very front of his prick, against his pee hole, and began to unroll it over his
manhood. Julie and even Melissa watched, spellbound. When he was
finished Jeff tensed his behind. He gave Melissa a pained look.
ÒCan I wash quick?Ó he asked her. ÒI really do have to go.Ó
Melissa smiled. JeffÕs penis was encased in latex now and while he
might empty his balls in the condom, it was quite impossible for him to
empty his bladder.
ÒNow that you are safe, I want Julie to wash you,Ó Melissa told Jeff.
ÒShe will do a more thorough job than you would.Ó Julie let out a small
cry. The woman frowned and looked at the girl. ÒHow is your bottom?Ó
she snapped.
Julie sniffled and made a mewling sound, like an injured kitten. ÒIt
hurts,Ó Julie confessed, though she was at that moment sitting on it in the
warm water of the tub.
ÒGood,Ó Melissa said. ÒIt will hurt more if you donÕt obey me. Take
the soap and begin by washing JeffÕs balls.Ó A gasp from Julie. ÒThen his
ass,Ó Melissa continued, to another loud plaintive sigh from the girl.
ÒThen the rest of him. When youÕre finished with everything weÕll take off
his condom and you can wash his penis.Ó
ÒBut I donÕt want to!Ó Julie whined. She rubbed her soap along her
arm, chastely avoiding touching even the front of her chest.
ÒDo it!Ó Melissa shouted. She threatened the girl with the paddle.
Julie let out another cry and suddenly leaned forward and hugged JeffÕs
legs. The boy chuckled, his balls resting on the top of her head.
ÒDo as she says,Ó Jeff said softly. He stroked the girlÕs long red
hair, bending down and lifting it in his hand. ÒSheÕs right. WeÕre here to
obey, not to screw.Ó
ÒThatÕs the spirit,Ó Melissa, standing outside the tub, said. She
grinned at Jeff. ÒI knew I picked the right young man for the job.Ó Jeff
looked at Melissa, at her tits, at her slender gorgeous big-breasted figure.
ÒYouÕre lucky youÕre so beautiful,Ó he said to her. He tensed his
buttocks. ÒAnd I have to pee worse than ever.Ó
ÒSoon. Soon enough. Now you must wash,Ó Melissa cooed. ÒRemain
standing. I want to see you squirm as Julie worships you with her soap.Ó
Slowly the redhead trailed her hands up JeffÕs legs. When she
reached his balls, she held them and soaped them with a certain
undeniable lust. Jeff, meanwhile, tensed and released his buttocks, trying
hard to suppress the sense of fullness in his bladder. Julie soaped JeffÕs
condom-encased cock. The young man protested that it was a waste, that
he was just going to take off the condom as soon as she was finished, but
Melissa complimented the girl for her initiative.
ÒGood,Ó Melissa told Julie. ÒNow you are showing the spirit I desire.
Do the rest of him, including his cute little buns. DonÕt forget to poke your
finger between them. Boys do not always clean themselves properly
there.Ó
Strangely, Julie obeyed. She washed all of Jeff, standing up to do
his hair with shampoo. She even did JeffÕs butthole, kneeling behind him,
soaping her finger and probing it in his tight ass.
ÒOpen,Ó Julie whispered to Jeff, as she explored his bottom. He
grimaced and bore her intrusion.
ÒGood girl,Ó Melissa said, when Julie had finished. Then it was
JeffÕs turn to wash the redhead. He did it with relish, clutching at her
like an object, as if she were some kind of inflated doll. Julie whimpered
at his roughness and eagerness but bore his hands on her body as best she
could, looking at Melissa for support. The black-haired woman smiled.
Softly she held her paddle in her hands, ensuring that both youngsters
cleaned each other completely. When it came time for Jeff to do JulieÕs
bottom he prised open her cheeks with his hands and shoved his soaped
condom-covered cock at her butt. Julie screamed. She was standing in
front of Jeff. Her hands flew to the front wall of the tub. Lustily Jeff
held her and prodded her ass. Looking at Melissa, JulieÕs eyes begged the
woman to stop the young man.
The paddle flew. It connected with JeffÕs ass.
ÒThatÕs enough,Ó Melissa said. ÒYou may both rinse and get out now.Ó
Toweling themselves, they returned to her office. She had them put
their towels on her desk when they were finished. Sitting down, behind
her desk in a big leather chair, Melissa opened a drawer. It was a small
drawer, and Jeff and Julie looked wonderously as Melissa, reaching inside
it, said,
ÒHere are your uniforms.Ó She drew out a pair of Speedos. She
handed it to Jeff. Immediately he saw there was a problem.
ÒThereÕs a hole in the front of these!Ó Jeff said.
ÒYes. I donÕt wish for you to strain yourself inside them,Ó Melissa
told Jeff. ÒPut them on. LetÕs see how you look in them.Ó
Jeff obeyed. Melissa sat in her chair and watched him as Julie,
standing naked beside him, watched also. When Jeff was finished he
presented quite a sight: the Speedos covered his ass and stretched across
his narrow hips, a fine piece of nylon printed with the Brazilian flag. But
where the Speedos were to contain his penis, it instead stuck stiffly out
through the hole at the front.
ÒYes,Ó Melissa said. She picked up a ruler off her desk. She
beckoned Jeff close and measured him. ÒEight inches. Not bad for a young
man of 16.Ó
ÒCan-- can I have another condom?Ó Jeff asked. He looked down at
himself. He had just gotten the condom off himself in the bathroom,
where he was finally allowed to pee before returning to MelissaÕs office.
Now, despite the agony the other condom had given him, he wanted
something to cover his rude nakedness.
ÒNo,Ó Melissa said. ÒYou have a fine cock and my clients will wish
to admire it. One thing, however: if they touch you, please do not spurt in
their hand.Ó
ÒThis- this is stupid,Ó Jeff protested. He looked at Julie, his big
cock hanging out like a ripe garden cucumber.
ÒI like it,Ó Julie said sheepishly.
ÒYou will both be delicious,Ó Melissa said. She took a scissors out
of the drawer. Jeff looked startled. ÒTurn around, silly,Ó Melissa smiled.
He did as she asked, and she carefully cut away the back of his swimsuit.
Julie watched; she seemed mesmerized by it all, stroking the insides of
her thighs with her hands as Jeff, his big cock waggling archly in front of
him, endured the scissors. When she was finished cutting off the back off
JeffÕs swimsuit, Melissa went for his balls. These too were liberated
from the nylon, so that when she was finished only a slender strip ran
between JedÕs legs, back over his balls and up the crack of his ass. Where
the strip crossed his testicles, it bound them up, so that he looked like he
had two big walnuts between his legs. ÒAnd now for this,Ó Melissa said.
She drew a pink neckerchief out of her drawer. She gave it to Jeff. ÒTie it
around your neck,Ó she told him.
ÒIÕm not going to--!Ó Jeff balked.
ÒOh, do it!Ó Julie, watching with big wide eyes, giggled. So Jeff
adorned himself, making himself look like a Chippendale with his tiny
briefs that did nothing to hide his cock and his pink handkerchief around
his neck.
ÒIÕll give you boots in a minute,Ó Melissa told Jeff. ÒBut now itÕs
JulieÕs turn.Ó The redhead gulped. She blinked as Melissa drew out a small
pair of panties. They were hardly recognizable as such, at first glance,
being just a simple triangle of tiny black cloth with two spaghetti-thin
strings hanging from them. ÒThese are peekaboo panties, Melissa told the
young girl. She held the triangle so that it could be examined by her. The
triangle of cloth had sewn into it several extremely small bows. Julie,
reaching out and touching one of the bows, realized that a determined
lover could get the bow undone and, if freeing the others, could expose
what little the triangle covered, liberating the flap so that it hung down,
showing the hairs of her pussy.
ÒOh my!Ó Julie gasped.
ÒYes. Cute, arentÕ they?Ó Melissa smiled. ÒPut them on. TheyÕll
cover very little, but theyÕre better than nothing.Ó
Blushing, the girl stepped into the panties. She pulled them up her
legs. They were so miniscule that she did not get the triangle right at
first, covering a portion of her hip with the cloth, then pulling it so that it
centered itself over her pubis. It barely covered the hairs of her pussy.
Down below, between her legs, her sex lips were left free. A single string
ran through them, irritating her there, letting anyone who looked see the
lipped entrance to her vagina.
ÒYes,Ó Melissa said. ÒVery good.Ó The girl took a step in her panties.
The rubbing of the string between her lips caused her to gasp. Melissa
smiled. Jeff chuckled. In back, between the halves of MelissaÕs bottom,
the string crossing over her anus felt softer than that wedged between her
sex lips.
ÒYou are wearing a Mulierre,Ó Melissa told the redhead. ÒThe string
between your sex lips has been purposely roughened, so as to provide you
with noticeable stimulation when you walk. Sometimes girls your age are
excessively shy, as indeed you have been sometimes today. But with this
string running between your lips, you will quickly find yourself deep in the
throes of self-indulgence.Ó MelissaÕs smile broadened. ÒAnd an indulgent
girl is more ready to take the cock.Ó
ÒOhhhh!Ó Julie gasped, taking another step. Jeff chuckled at her
distress.
ÒSo we are to fuck, then?Ó Jeff asked Melissa, his cock frankly
displayed to her as he spoke. MelissaÕs high soft voice gave another cry as
she took yet another step.
ÒYou are to be waiters, just like the ad said, but what may come of
the evening is anyoneÕs guess,Ó Melissa told Jeff. ÒIf you wish to back out
for some reason now is the time to do it, for in half an hour you will be on
a boat and quite unable to leave.Ó
ÒNo,Ó Jeff said, eagerly displaying himself.
ÒN- Noooo,Ó Julie chimed, though she said the word, urgently, as she
took yet another step in her panties.
jed drinks castor oil, serves people as his butt tightens with need to poop
whipped cream in julieÕs panites, along the butt crack and in front
30
AND IN THE END...
ÒA man needs a feminist like a fish needs a bicycle.Ó
- Wise sage.
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