- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
                                 little girl liberation!
                       http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
---------------------------------------------------------------


                                        Andrew Roller Presents
                                   NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                       in 
                                             TORRID TWEENS


                                               Chapter Ten

         Brittney was not put to bed early that night.  Her weal was fading, 
no longer bothering her, and Ellen, inspecting the girlÕs behind after dinner 
said,
         ÒWe must do something about that.  It will be gone soon.Ó
         ÒYes,Ó Samuel agreed.  Brittney looked with perplexed eyes from one 
guest to another.  They smiled, as if in common agreement on something.  
Ellen said to Brittney,
         ÒI must take you to see Marie.Ó
         In truth there was no need to see Marie, Ellen could have taken care 
of the matter herself, or Samuel for that matter, or no doubt the two 
rough boys who had been invited to stay for the evening.  But something 
about those who owned Brittney (that was the best word for it) made them 
flinch at the thought of giving her what she really needed.  Perhaps it was 
her incredible beauty; always at the last minute, despite internal 
longings, the trainer-to-be sought to palm her off on somebody else.  Let 
them carry the guilt of it; they would, perhaps, watch.  Or simply listen, 
or wait for a call on a phone.
         Marie proved to be a formidable-looking woman of Icelandic 
ancestry.  She was tall, blonde as a field of daisies at noon, and lean.  She 
was curvaceous but in an athletic way; she looked as if she might have 
stepped out of a Nike ad.  As the first stars came out in the night sky Ellen 
brought Brittney to the woman.  The blonde took Brittney into a sitting 
room in her house and looked her over.
         ÒI understand you are in training to become a dominatrix,Ó Marie said 
matter-of-factly to Brittney.  The girl blinked.  She had not heard before 
of this particular goal.  She was just striving to please those around her.
         ÒShe is,Ó Ellen said, and Marie shook her head.
         ÒI cannot say I approve,Ó Marie said.  ÒIt would place her in a very 
high rank amongst us to be declared a domme at such a young age.Ó
         ÒShe still requires training,Ó Ellen said.
         ÒObviously,Ó Marie answered.  ÒLook how she blushes, sitting there 
now.Ó  Marie got up and went to the couch where Brittney was sitting with 
Ellen.  She sat down next to the girl, squeezing her between the two of 
them.  Brittney was dressed in black stockings and a waistcoat and blouse 
and skirt, complete with a modest cap on her head.  Marie reached up and 
took off BrittneyÕs cap, laying it in her own lap.  Brittney blinked again; 
her hands scrabbling up, too late, to keep the cap from being taken off her.  
Marie looked at BrittneyÕs breasts, substantial and eye-catching even with 
the waistcoat buttoned over them.  Marie took the coatÕs top button in her 
fingers.  It was made of silver, not pure but delicate and shiny all the 
same.  Marie pulled the button free of itÕs accompanying hole.  BrittneyÕs 
jacket arched out a little, presenting an opening through which the very 
top of her lacy black bra could be seen.  Her blouse was decollete, its deep 
cut did not hide the silken swell of her bosoms; the jacket was required 
for that.
         ÒI am going to ask you to do something very special tonight,Ó Marie 
said to Brittney.  She undid her second button.  The girl looked down at 
herself, briefly.  Her jacket arched out more.  To her dismay, her tits 
jutted more freely, without the enclosing jacket pulled tight across them.  
More of her black-silk bra was now visible.  ÒI am going to ask you to 
submit to torture,Ó Marie said to the girl.  A gasp escaped from Brittney.  
Marie undid her third button.  The halves of BrittneyÕs jacket spread 
farther apart.  Her tits jutted more.  Ellen, who was holding BrittneyÕs 
hand, gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze.
         Marie was not about to reassure the girl.  She spoke to her bluntly, 
undoing the last button of BrittneyÕs jacket, then pulling the halves apart 
with both hands so that BrittneyÕs blouse could be seen all the way down 
to the waistline of her dress.  Within it her tits loomed, the low cut of her 
blouse not keeping Marie from admiring the expensive quality of her bra.
         ÒYou come here to me tonight dressed as if for an expensive business 
date,Ó the woman said.  ÒWell, I am all business.  Let me tell you this, 
though:  to submit to torture properly you must be naked.  As you may have 
already learned, the domme in such situations is not naked.  I will be 
dressed throughout your session as I am now, in a skirt and blouse and 
boots.  In fact I shall add something:  gloves.  I do not wish to handle your 
skin directly, though it is very fine skin, and pretty.  But there is a certain 
comfort in the human touch, and you must be denied that.  You must feel 
only my cold leather gloves, clinical and dispassionate in the way they 
handle you.  There will be no pleasure here; you had that, I understand, 
earlier today, with two boys.  Here there is only agony.  But delivered with 
precision and care, to train your young body in the ways of our profession.  
If you agree to stay with me here tonight do not expect any tender kisses, 
any kind words of consolation.  I am not about consolation.  I am also not 
one to give compliments.  Your mistress will receive my report after I am 
finished with you.Ó
         Marie continued talking, but Brittney was by now too confused and 
frightened to listen to what she was saying.  She sat dumbly, shivering a 
little, as the two women undressed her.  When she was naked except for 
her black thigh-high stockings and elegant heels, they made her get up and 
serve them liquor.  She did it bare bottomed, the two women frankly 
admiring the curving vulnerability of her behind as she went about her 
chore.  Brittney was not allowed any liquor.  Marie said it would 
anesthetize her, and she was here to feel pain.
         Downstairs, when Brittney had lost possession of her stockings and 
heels, Marie showed her the dungeon.  It was almost too awful to 
contemplate.  Ellen had left by the time this happened and Brittney was 
forced to stand alone, trembling, tears in her eyes as the Icelandic woman 
donned black gloves.  Then without further introduction she took Brittney 
to a wooden rack.  It was a large X in shape, with an inconvenient hump in 
the middle of it.  Since Marie had been phoned in advance about Brittney 
coming, she had already placed a block of wood at the base of the hump to 
elevate little BrittneyÕs body to the point in the X where the hump would 
push out BrittneyÕs hips.  Taking Brittney to the X, Marie said to the girl, 
in a polite but matter-of-fact voice,
         ÒWould you please get up on the block.Ó  Marie held Brittney by her 
hand; when she said this she slipped her other hand under BrittneyÕs elbow 
and gently lifted it.  BrittneyÕs bare feet remained glued to the floor, 
despite the fact that it was made of stone and cold.  Marie coughed in 
disapproval.  She took her hand from BrittneyÕs elbow and placed it under 
the curve of her ass.  Her finger stroked warningly across BrittneyÕs welt, 
which, despite being almost gone now, made Brittney shiver at the 
remembrance of how SamuelÕs birch had burned her there.  Again Marie 
said, ÒWould you please get up on the block,Ó and she lifted Brittney by her 
bottom.  Brittney let out a cry.  The womanÕs palm lifted her with 
strength; before the girl knew it she was standing bare foot on the block 
of wood that had been laid out for her.
         Straps were fastened to BrittneyÕs wrists.  Then her arms were 
yanked unceremoniously upright by Marie, high over the girlÕs head, as if 
she were suddenly being forced to reach up with both hands and touch the 
sky.  The straps around BrittneyÕs wrists were big thick furry weight-
bearing straps, that could hold her tight without cutting.  But Marie did 
not pull BrittneyÕs arms absolutely taut.  She left room for Brittney to 
bend her elbows.  A moment later the girl found out why.  Marie pulled both 
BrittneyÕs ankles toward the back of the XÕs two legs.  This forced 
Brittney into a slight crouch, the hump of the X, which was already 
pressing against her hips, throwing her bottom more luridly backward as 
she was forced into a semi-hanging position.  Of course, bending her knees 
somewhat now, since her ankles were being pulled in to the back of the XÕs 
legs, pulled BrittneyÕs arms taut.  She hung there, her ankles tied toward 
the rear of the XÕs legs, but with her legs still spread wide, the hump 
forcing her bottom out and her shoulders feeling like they were being 
slowly pulled from their sockets.
         ÒOh!  Oh!Ó Brittney cried, as Marie stepped back to admire her 
handiwork.  The girl was tied to the X, facing inward.  She was fastened by 
her wrists so that they supported most of her weight.  Her legs, though 
able to bear some of her weight, were pulled toward the wall.  She looked 
like she was crouching slightly to make doo doo, her bottom jutting out 
with scary impudence and freedom.  Brittney tried squeezing her cheeks, 
drawing them nearer and closer to her, but the Icelandic woman tapped her 
bottom with the handle of a whip and ordered her to stick out her rump 
even farther
         ÒDisplay it, dear,Ó Marie said to the girl.  ÒIt is a deliciously 
impudent little backside.  It is the sort that deserves no sympathy 
whatsoever, and I will show it none.  Perhaps others have been reluctant 
to punish such a youthful childish ass.  I am not.  You are a spoiled little 
girl who should be home with your parents.  But thanks to your charming 
figure youÕre here, vying to be a dominatrix and laying men who rightfully 
belong to me.  This is the sort of behavior I long to punish, and donÕt think 
you can somehow please me with your tears.  I am unpersuadable, 
implacable.  I judge a girl not by the loudness of her screams, but by the 
marks I leave on her skin.  And just in case you think youÕre going to be 
beaten to a pulp quickly, I have news for you.  The essential point of a 
whipping is its prolongation.  One must be given time to feel each 
agonizing sting in its fullness before the next is applied.  You will spend a 
good several hours here, tied like this, with occasional breaks to recover 
your senses.  These breaks that I will give you, they are to allow you even 
more time to contemplate what is happening to your bottom.  And perhaps 
this is the worst part,Ó Marie said, lightly touching the crop to BrittneyÕs 
rump, which made the girl arch her back and scream.  ÒI can inflict pain on 
a bottom for hours without leaving any marks at all.  Yes.   There is an art 
to it.  The bottom assumes a gentle blush, one would think nothing much 
has happened to the girl.  But looks can be deceiving.  Each stroke, properly 
applied, can be like a straight long cattle prod searing your behind.  I can 
rip screams from your throat and yet you will have no tokens of your 
suffering to show anyone, if I choose.  No bruises, no scars, nothing to 
show off as proof of the pain youÕve been through.  But do not think that 
without marks you will somehow get off.  For after I have punished you 
throughly without marks, I do intend to mark you.  So youÕll have 
something to remember me by.Ó
         Just then a woman walked into the room.  Like Brittney, she was 
utterly naked.  Her step slouched and she had an indolent look to her, like a 
spoiled cat.  Her hair was lovely; as Brittney, gasping, craned her neck 
back to look at this woman whoÕs bare feet pattered in on the cold stone 
floor, it looked to Brittney as if this nude visitor had just spent the 
afternoon in a beauty parlor.  Her nails flashed; they were perfectly 
manicured.  There were some throw pillows on the floor and the woman 
knelt down onto them and then lay herself in them.  All the while, her 
eyes-semi sleepy, a smile on her face, she was sucking a big fat candy 
cane.  Her eye lashes fluttered.  She rolled on her belly and Brittney, still 
craning her neck back, yelped.  The woman was utterly beautiful, with 
large slumbrous breasts which now pressed into the pillows she lay on.  
Her skin was perfect, white where her breasts were, and where her pubis 
and bottom were, tanned otherwise, like some perfectly sunned young 
lioness who knew how to please a dominatrixÕs eye with her skin.  But 
what made Brittney yelp was this:  across this lovely womanÕs behind, 
which was an enchantingly small behind, made more so by the very large 
size of her bosoms, were whip marks.  They seemed tattooed on her, but no 
needle had touched her flesh.  They had been laid on by an instrument of 
flagellation; several, in fact, for some marks were wider, some very 
narrow, and there were bruises accumulated among them.  Brittney noticed 
at last that this woman, whose luxurious shoulder-length hair cascaded 
around her face, did have one item of clothing on, if it could be called that.  
It was a leather dogÕs collar, around her slender neck.
         Such perfection reposed on those pillows!  And yet such horror too, 
judging from what the womanÕs lovely small bottom had undergone.  And 
yet she kept smiling, looking up at Marie and Brittney, sucking on her 
candy cane as if her life depended on the big penis-thick object.
         ÒThis is my slave Elspeth,Ó Marie said to Brittney.  ÒShe how proud 
she is of what she has earned on her bottom through weeks of suffering.  
Like yours will be, her first sessions were full of pain, but without the 
rewards that a good whipping usually leaves in the hands of a less skilled 
domme, or especially in the hands of a man.  She had to suffer without any 
little mementos for at last a week.  At last she begged me to mark her, so 
that she would have something to show off to her friends, as a mark of her 
endurance.  Now, as you can see, Elspeth has earned many marks, because 
she is such a very good slave.  ArenÕt you, Elspeth?Ó the woman asked.  The 
slave, whose hair was brown like BrittneyÕs, nodded eagerly.
         Suddenly something snapped inside Brittney.  To her utter horror, 
which washed through her only seconds later, she cried out,
         ÒOh please!  Please whip me!Ó
         ÒYes!Ó Marie cried.  She was visibly pleased by BrittneyÕs sudden 
insane outburst.  She touched BrittneyÕs bottom again with her whip, with 
its hard handle, the thong dangling down between BrittneyÕs splayed legs.  
ÒThatÕs what I like to see.  Enthusiasm!  There is nothing finer than being 
tied and hurt, nothing finer in the world, except perhaps the sense of 
satisfaction one feels after going through it.  The sense of 
accomplishment.  You will make a fine wonderful slave, Brittney, and donÕt 
worry, you will earn your marks just like Elspeth has.Ó
         And so BrittneyÕs first whipping at the hands of Marie proceeded.  
This was a mark-free whipping, which disappointed Brittney, for the pain 
was quite unbearable.  Afterward, with her ass feeling like a flayed fish, 
Brittney, when she had recovered somewhat, was placed in a saddle 
perched on a wide thick post.  Her lean legs dangled down, her feet finding 
purchase in the stirrups.  Her wounded bottom spread alluringly and with a 
kind of idleness across the broad seat-- a perfect invitation for more 
whip strokes, Brittney realized with sudden alarm.  Marie spurred 
BrittneyÕs little bottom with the whip, the strokes actually lifting 
Brittney up onto her toes in the stirrups, her back arching up, her bottom 
lifting high.  This exercise delighted Elspeth, who finished her second 
candy cane watching it, running with rapid footfalls into another room to 
get the second candy, so that she would miss only a moment of BrittneyÕs 
Òdelightful performance.Ó  The time on the horse utterly exhausted 
Brittney.  So much so, in fact, that near the end of it she lost control of 
her water and peed in the saddle.  As if to pile decadence upon decadence, 
when she was done peeing, Brittney gasped,
         ÒIÕm thirsty.Ó  Or rather it came out more like ÒIÕm thoisty,Ó due to 
BrittneyÕs labored breathing. 
         ÒThere will be more strokes for that,Ó Marie told Brittney crossly.  
And there were, to ElspethÕs squealing delight.  But first Marie made 
Elspeth get Brittney a cup of water, and hold it for her while she drank 
from it.
         As if to add to BrittneyÕs fears, the next day passed at MarieÕs 
without any punishments at all.  Brittney was allowed to sleep until noon, 
in her own bed.  A leather collar was awarded to her, before she fell to 
sleep the previous night, as Marie tucked in the girl.  A chain ran from the 
collar to the bed.  Near to the bed was a chamber pot; Brittney could rise 
in the night and relieve herself.  Toilet paper sat in a big fat roll on the 
floor next to the chamber pot, so she could wipe herself.  Marie asked 
when her period was; as it turned out, the girl would not need tampax for 
another two weeks.
         Just after noon Elspeth appeared at BrittneyÕs door.  She roused the 
girl.  Brittney placed her hands on her own behind as the young woman got 
her up.  For a moment she had been dreaming that she was back home, but 
now she realized again where she was.  In fright she felt her bottom.  
Curiously, except for a glowing warmth, it was no longer pained.  She had 
spent the night lying on her tummy, owing to the condition of her bottom 
the previous night.  But now it was as if nothing too awful had happened, 
with only the warm afterglow to remind her of the previous nightÕs 
activities.
         They went downstairs together, Elspeth and Brittney.  Marie was 
sitting and having lunch.  She had made sandwiches for them.  They lay on 
china plates on the kitchen table, a napkin over each to protect it.  A 
pitcher of lemonade sweated in the middle of the table.  It was a warm 
day.  Marie motioned for Brittney and Elspeth to each take a chair.  
Brittney went to the chair she was directed to; she gasped when she saw 
what was on it.  It was a big pillow, and it was not without a certain 
delight that she sat down in it, feeling it squeeze up between her legs, 
pressing itself against her naked cunt, the cheeks of her ass pressing 
warmly into it, supported and comforted by it.
         Elspeth did not sit down right away.  Instead she turned around and 
showed it to Marie.
         ÒThe bruises are going away,Ó Elspeth whined.  Marie reached out a 
finger, holding her sandwich in her other hand.  Lightly she touched the 
young womanÕs ass.
         ÒMmmm.  Except for the scars youÕre turning all nice and white 
again,Ó Marie agreed.
         ÒI want more,Ó Elspeth said.
         ÒMore bruises?Ó Marie asked.
         ÒYesss,Ó Elspeth said, and her voice slurred as she said it.  The 
cheeks of her behind tightened.
         ÒAlright,Ó Marie said.  ÒBut have something to eat first.  YouÕll need 
your energy for what IÕm going to give you.Ó
         ÒOh goodie!Ó Elspeth said.  She spun about and sat down on her chair, 
which had no pillow, just a wicker seat, which struck Brittney as rather 
uncomfortable to sit on.  Her chair was of the same design.  Fortunately 
she had a pillow under her.  Elspeth sat down on her latticed wood chair 
and wiggled.
         ÒI love this hard seat,Ó Elspeth said.  ÒIt feels like a thousand little 
whips, or canes, all pressing themselves against my ass.Ó  Marie lifted an 
eyebrow.  Brittney felt butterflies in her stomach.  These two women 
were certainly strange; one loved to dominate, the other was so fond of 
torture it made Brittney more frightened than the whip itself had, the 
night before.  She had wanted that, in some strange way she didnÕt 
understand.  But this woman beside her, Elspeth, she wanted more than 
Brittney did.  She wanted to be harmed, absolutely and uncompromisingly, 
like some tattoo fetishist who canÕt keep away from the stinging pain of 
the painterÕs needle.
         ÒI must go out,Ó Marie said after lunch.  She did not say where she 
was going.  Because she had made the sandwiches, she required the two 
girls to clean up.  Brittney found herself rinsing dishes, with Elspeth.  It 
was something she would have balked at at home.  Here, it was a welcome 
respite the whip.  Marie left the two girls alone in the house.  This scared 
Brittney; Elspeth eyed her like a cat being left alone with a parakeet.  But 
Marie told Elspeth was not to Òplay gamesÓ with Brittney.  The young 
woman nodded, and did not lay a finger on the girl, though Brittney sensed 
she would have loved to.
         The next morning more tortures were planned; Brittney knew it.  Two 
days in a row without the whip in such a place as this was unthinkable.  
Elspeth woke her early.  She took her downstairs to Marie.  They went 
down to the basement.  Brittney was sleepy; she had tossed and turned in 
her bed all night, knowing what must happen, worrying over it; now as she 
saw Marie with gloves on her hands and a leather whip, she screamed.
         ÒSit down,Ó Marie said to the girl.  Brittney was offered a solid oak 
bench to sit on.  Despite its hardness, she sat down on it quickly and 
without complaint.  She looked up at Marie.  The woman wore a lovely 
yellow bikini.  Elspeth too had a bikini on.  She had selected a panty which, 
despite the smallness of her ass, looked too little for her.  It wedged in 
her ass, revealing her cheeks, their nakedness, and her marks.  Brittney 
was completely bare; her leather collar around her neck was the only thing 
she wore.  Marie stared down at her.  After a moment of gazing at the 
naked girl she gestured toward the saddle.  Brittney craned her neck 
around; there it was, the thing she had ÒriddenÓ two days before, to much 
painful urging from the whip.  BrittneyÕs naked tits jiggled as she moved.  
Her nipples, already rising, grew stiffer as she looked at the saddle.
         ÒDoes it excite you?Ó Marie asked the girl.
         ÒN- Noooo,Ó Brittney said.
         ÒI have a decision to make,Ó Marie said to the girl.  ÒI can keep you 
here, all to myself.  Or I can share you with another.Ó  BrittneyÕs eyes 
widened.  Elspeth reached behind herself and rubbed her backside.  ÒIt is 
not uncommon for us to trade lovers, in this field of work,Ó Marie said.  
ÒElspeth is due for a good hard day of punishment.  She is eager for it and 
you are new and resistant.  And then there is another client that I have, a 
paying client.  I am hired to attend upon him later this morning.Ó  She 
lifted a hand and swept back her blonde hair.  ÒAs you can see, even for a 
domme, life can be demanding.  As demanding as it is for a slave,Ó Marie 
said.  ÒHave you been to the beach near here?  The beach at Arlington 
dam?Ó
         ÒY-Yes,Ó Brittney said.  To her surprise, the woman reached down 
into a small leather bag and pulled out a white bikini.  A dildo was 
entangled in the straps of the bra and the panty.  She freed it, and then 
handed it to the girl.  It was mostly strings.  Brittney looked at it with an 
air of incredulity.
         ÒWe will have to fit it on you carefully,Ó Marie smiled.  ÒAnyone can 
go to Arlington beach; families, little children.  WeÕll spend the morning 
there, and see what we can see.  Or if you insist you can ride the saddle 
again, right now.Ó
         ÒI want to ride the saddle!Ó Elspeth piped up.  She had her hands on 
her bottom.  Brittney gave her a quizzical look; the woman could think of 
nothing but receiving pain.
         ÒDo you wish to go to the beach, or get on the saddle?Ó Marie asked 
Brittney.
         ÒThe beach,Ó Brittney said without hesitation, though the bikini she 
was holding in her hands would be a challenge to wear.
         ÒThen you must help me tie Elspeth into the saddle,Ó Marie said.  And 
so they did, the two of them, Brittney feeling her breasts bump nakedly 
against the woman as she was strapped up onto the fake horse; required to 
remove her bikini first, so that she would be as naked as Brittney.  When 
they were finished, with Elspeth tied in and quite unable to get down from 
the thing, Marie said to the young woman,
         ÒYou will wait here, with your rump in the saddle, your legs spread 
upon it as they are now, your tits hanging down in their cow-like 
perfection, your mouth open a little, my dear, like so-- yes, thatÕs it.  You 
will wait here and someone will come for you.  DonÕt pee in the saddle, 
even if you must wait several hours.Ó  Marie, her hands tethered to the 
pommel at the front of the saddle, nodded.  Leather straps bound her 
ankles into the stirrups.  She was not going anywhere, the most she might 
expect, in the way of movement, would be to rub her tight-lipped snatch 
against the saddleÕs leather.  Marie brushed back her hair from her eyes.  It 
had fallen into her face as Brittney and Marie tied the girl in.  ÒExpect to 
have clamps hung on your tits when your new hosts arrive,Ó Marie said to 
the young woman.  ÒAh, you flinch when I use the plural.  Yes, my dear.  
That is what was discussed at my meeting yesterday afternoon.  A whole 
party of people will be arriving, as a group.  They will be looking for fun 
and they will find you here, sitting up in this saddle, waiting, your bare 
ass showing, your tits jutting, and you, by that time, squirming, for you 
will by then need to pee.Ó  Marie put a hand to ElspethÕs bottom, which 
caused the girl to flinch and her ass cheeks to tighten.  Brittney gasped 
involuntarily; there was an utter wickedness to MarieÕs words, and to the 
way she was looking at the brown-haired young woman.  ÒThey will not 
know your name, or anything about you,Ó Marie said to Elspeth.  ÒThey will 
regard you as nothing but furniture, and they will use you as such.  No 
regard will be paid to your needs, only to theirs.  Expect to be used 
horribly, in every conceivable way.  You have come with my house; they are 
renting you along with my dwelling.  The saddle will only be the first of 
your ordeals.  The men will regard you as something to be fucked.  Each of 
them will use you to the fullest.  The women will delight in tormenting 
you, jealous of your big fine tits and your small child-like ass.  We will 
meet again in a few days; when they are through using the house.  I will be 
your nurse then; you will need nursing.  Do you have any questions?Ó  Marie 
asked of Elspeth.  The young woman shook her head no, biting her lip as she 
did so.  Marie reached up with a gloved hand and made her open her mouth, 
removing her white teeth from her lip.  ÒDo not bite down like that,Ó Marie 
said.  ÒOpen your mouth.  Keep it open, just a little.  ThatÕs it.  Your bottom 
well-displayed, your lips apart, your cunny pressing and spreading upon 
the saddle.  Your tits enviously big and with their nipples stiff in 
invitation.  You will be a perfect treat.  Always remember to hold your 
head high with your perfection, no matter how they use you.  You are a fine 
mare, a lovely fuckable thing.  They requested someone truly beautiful, and 
I recommended you.  You are serving your purpose in this world; you have 
had your training, now you must fully give yourself, as the perfect 
absolute slave.  You do not own yourself anymore, you are part of my 
house.Ó
         Brittney was biting her lip by now, and Marie, as she turned away 
from Elspeth, put a hand to the girlÕs lips and made her open her mouth.
         ÒPut on your bikini,Ó Marie said to the girl.  As Brittney dressed 
Marie chose one more item for Elspeth.  She decided she could not trust 
the young woman not to bite her lip, and so she gagged her.  As Brittney 
got into her string bikini she gazed up at the woman; there she sat, on the 
horse, her lips now forced apart by the gag which Marie had tied round her 
head, wedging it deep into her mouth.  It was a pose of absolute 
subjection, except for the height and prominence of the horse.  But that 
was only a device made for easy application of the whip, ElspethÕs small 
bottom posed up on it round and ready, sexily spread, the back of the 
saddle not curving upward, as a normal saddle would, so that the whip 
could be applied to a broader portion of her behind.  ÒYou will ride well,Ó 
Marie said to the girl.  ÒRemember:  do not greet my guests with a puddle 
of pee under you on the floor.Ó
         They left her that way, sitting up high on the saddle, gawking back 
at them as they climbed the basement stairs.  Elspeth made little mewing 
sounds, the gag hard-pressed in her mouth.  But Marie did not ask the 
wide-eyed female what she wanted.  Brittney wondered if she wanted to 
pee.
         ÒWhat- what if the house catches fire while sheÕs waiting?Ó 
Brittney asked breathlessly when she and Marie had reached the top of the 
stairs.  The blonde Nordic woman laughed.  
         ÒThen I suppose my guests will enjoy a delicious rump roast amidst 
the ruins,Ó she said.   

30

--------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------
----- Back issues (and stories):  http://www.deja.com/
  Search by typing:  roller666@earthlink.net
  DonÕt forget to click on ÒPower SearchÓ.
  Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive.
----- Other providers:
  Eli the Bearded:  http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
  ArtÕs Erotic Stories and Photos:  http://www.eroticstories.com
  AnyaÕs LilÕ Hideaway:  http://www.insatiable.net/
  Silver:  http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies
  Usenet Newsgroup:  alt.sex.stories.moderated
----- Great books by David Hamilton:  The Age of Innocence, A Place
  in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist.    By Jock Sturges:
  Radiant Identities    Need a book?  http://www.amazon.com
----- Great sites:
  http://www.nambla.de
  http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
  http://www.lp.org
-----Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
  is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller.  Dreamgirls, Naughty Naked
  Dreamgirls, and NND are registered trademarks of Andrew Roller.  All
  rights reserved.
----- Visit me at:  http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
-----END OF story EMISSION  Call the Cops!  1-800-555-TELL