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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
WANTON WINTER
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Chapter Ten
It was just warm enough to sit outside and so we did, enjoying the
air, taking in the smell of the pine trees that clustered around the cafe
tables. The cafe was called Une Pine, and its trees formed a small forest
that shielded us from the noise of the passing cars and the bustle of the
pedestrians that walked along the sidewalk beyond the tables and the rim
of protective trees.
I sipped my egg nog. It was chilly, like the air around us. My aunt
was drinking Ôtoasted almondÕ coffee, the steam making her wriggle her
nose. I was dressed in my school girl clothes, a plaid skirt and a white
blouse with a small, trim scarf, plus polished black shoes with long white
kneesocks. To ward off the cold I wore a fur-lined jacket and a tasseled
cap. My aunt was dressed in smart black pants and a matching blouse,
with a flaring peplum. Over this she wore her fur coat. She had black
gloves on and I wore soft woven mittens. Through the cold atmosphere
bits of snow were falling. One fell into my egg nog and I stared into my
glass, to see it melt, but it was already gone.
ÒA snow flake fell in my egg nog, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒDrink it. It will give you good luck,Ó Rebecca replied.
ÒWhat if itÕs got air pollution on it?Ó I asked. We were, after all, in
the middle of Paris.
ÒIt will still give you good luck,Ó my aunt said. She sipped her
coffee. ÒOuch!Ó she said. ÒI think IÕve burned my tongue.Ó
ÒMiss? May I intrude?Ó a man asked. My aunt looked up at him. He
had dark hair, just turning grey at the temples, and he struck me as quite
handsome.
ÒYes?Ó Rebecca asked. The man took her tentative query as an okay.
He sat down at our table, pulling a chair out for himself and sitting down
across from myself and my aunt. Rebecca and I were sitting close to each
other to keep warm.
ÒPardon my interruption,Ó the man said. A waiter appeared.
ÒSir, would you like something to drink?Ó the waiter asked.
ÒYes, please. IÕll have a cognac,Ó the man said. He looked again at
Rebecca. ÒIf itÕs alright with you, of course.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Rebecca said.
ÒA snowflake fell in my egg nog,Ó I told him.
ÒAh, yes,Ó the man said. He looked at me. Then he looked at Rebecca
and asked, ÒIs she your daughter?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Rebecca said, and was about to tell him, when I interrupted her
and said, loudly,
ÒIÕm her niece!Ó
ÒAh. You did look rather young to have a daughter,Ó the man said to
Rebecca.
ÒThank you,Ó Rebecca replied.
ÒIÕm 13,Ó I told him.
ÒMy name is Jordan,Ó the man said. He was about 40, with grey hair
at his temples. Rebecca smiled and told him our names. No last names
were exchanged.
ÒAre you visiting our fair city?Ó Jordan asked, after weÕd exchanged
introductions. The waiter returned, and served Jordan his cognac.
ÒIÕm from America! My aunt lives here though,Ó I explained, slightly
miffed and talking even louder because the man seemed to be directing all
his attention to my aunt.
My aunt explained our situation.
ÒHow nice,Ó Jordan said. ÒIÕm sure being here is proving to be quite
a learning experience for her.Ó Still he addressed himself to my aunt,
talking of me as if I were a poodle.
ÒI learnt how to get a high score in Nintendo!Ó I told the man.
ÒShe is... an eager pupil,Ó my aunt replied. She smiled and looked at
me.
ÒItÕs easy to get a high score in Nintendo if you hold down the second
button,Ó I explained to the man. I was speaking quickly now, and loud
enough for everyone on the cafeÕs tree-lined veranda to hear me.
ÒShe can be a bit childish though,Ó my aunt said, sipping at her
coffee, but blowing on it first so she wouldnÕt burn her tongue.
ÒYes,Ó the man said. Still he didnÕt look at me, except by way of
vague acknowledgement. ÒI have a friend who saw you and your daughter,
er... niece earlier today,Ó Jordan said.
ÒOh really?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒHe wishes to make a proposal to you,Ó Jordan said. He drank his
cognac and looked at my aunt, searching her eyes. She gazed at him, still
blowing on her coffee.
ÒWhen you get up to 25,000, then you have to hold down the FIRST
button!Ó I said.
ÒChloe,Ó my aunt said distractedly.
ÒOoops. Sorry,Ó I said, realizing for the first time how loud IÕd been
talking. I bowed my head and sipped tentatively at my egg nog. I didnÕt
want to get any air pollution from the snowflake that had fallen into it.
ÒYes, he saw you both and quite admired you... both,Ó Jordan said to
my aunt. He glanced at me. I lifted my chin slightly and licked the egg nog
off my upper lip and, seeing an opening, said,
ÒI can show you how to play Dig Dug if you like!Ó
ÒHe would like you to visit him,Ó Jordan said to my aunt. ÒBoth of
you,Ó he added, looking at her and quite ignoring me, despite my eagerness
to tell him how to win at Dig Dug.
ÒHe... wishes to entertain us?Ó my aunt asked. She drank her coffee
slowly, sucking at the rim of her cup with pursed lips.
ÒHe wishes to pay you a million dollars,Ó Jordan said. My aunt
almost dropped her cup.
ÒA million dollars?Ó I asked, in a loud voice. Nobody sitting at the
cafeÕs outdoor tables turned and looked, though, for they probably thought
I was talking about Dig Dug.
ÒChloe,Ó my aunt said again. Then she smiled at the man and said,
ÒIÕm afraid your friend will be disappointed. I have quite enough money.Ó
ÒI donÕt!Ó I announced.
ÒHe is quite serious,Ó Jordan said.
ÒI could buy lots of Nintendos for a million dollars, but then IÕd have
to get high scores on all of them and that would be a LOT of work,Ó I said,
considering. My aunt put down her coffee cup and said,
ÒChloe, *please* donÕt talk so loudly. Not everyone is interested in
your Nintendo game.Ó
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I replied. I looked at Jordan and drank more of my egg
nog.
ÒHe has an unusual proposal,Ó Jordan said.
ÒYes?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒHe... well... You are young, Rebecca, so let me tell it to you directly
with all due respect for your femininity, but without beating endlessly
around the bush either. He would like to incarcerate you,Ó Jordan said. My
auntÕs eyes widened. Her lips opened, closed, then opened again, gulping in
air, like a fish suddenly and unexpectedly caught in a net.
ÒHe is quite serious,Ó Jordan added hastily. ÒI am not trying to make
you indisposed by saying lewd things to you.Ó
ÒAuntie? WhatÕs carsirate?Ó I asked.
My aunt tugged up the hood of her fur coat and looked at Jordan. ÒYou
mean castrate?Ó she asked me. Then she looked at Jordan, a worldly air
coming into her eyes as she recovered from JordanÕs remark, and said,
ÒIÕm sure we wouldnÕt be interested.Ó
ÒAuntie, whatÕs castrate?Ó I asked. Someone at a nearby table
looked over at me, for my voice was loud.
ÒHe...Ó Jordan began.
ÒIÕm sure we wouldnÕt be interested,Ó my aunt said. She looked at
me. ÒChloe, we must be going,Ó she said.
ÒI havenÕt finished my egg nog yet, auntie,Ó I protested. She rose
from the table and reached out and took my hand. She urged me to my feet.
ÒAuntie, do you think IÕll get air pollution from drinking an egg nog with a
snowflake in it, that fell out of the sky?Ó I asked. My aunt dragged me
away from the table, leaving my egg nog and her coffee behind.
We saw him again two days later. Again he introduced himself, with
a great deal of politeness, and I thought my aunt would shoo him away, but
instead she let him sit down. We chatted for a few moments and then he
again made the same proposal.
ÒI think it would be hard work to spend a million dollars,Ó I said,
trying to figure out how much Hubba Bubba I could buy at the store with it,
and whether I could carry it all home.
ÒThe money isnÕt important,Ó my aunt said. ÒExcept of course as a
show of sincerity.Ó
ÒOh, he is quite sincere,Ó Jordan assured her.
My aunt smiled. ÒAnd what is this... proposal of his? He wants to
make us prisoners?Ó
ÒI donÕt want to be a prisoner,Ó I said. ÒUnless IÕm imprisoned in a
Nintendo game, or maybe in the Hubba Bubba factory.Ó
ÒShhh, Chloe,Ó my aunt said.
ÒI hope no snowflakes fall in my egg nog today,Ó I said, covering my
egg nog with my hand.
ÒMay I amuse you with the details of his proposal?Ó Jordan asked my
aunt. She looked at her watch.
ÒIf you wish,Ó my aunt replied.
ÒHe owns an old prison. It is a real prison, built of stone during the
middle ages. It is a rather small facility, actually, consisting of a single
blockhouse, though it has a rather large wall surrounding it. He selects,
uh, certain young ladies to stay there.Ó
ÒFor how long?Ó my aunt asked. Her eyes showed disdain, with a
hint of merriment, as if she were only listening to him to regale her
friends later with the details of this uniquely male proposal.
ÒIn your case, for a week,Ó Jordan said. He indicated me and asked,
ÒThe girl. She goes to a private school?Ó
ÒOf course,Ó my aunt said.
ÒYou could get her excused for a week?Ó Jordan asked.
ÒOf course,Ó my aunt said again.
ÒAnd, if you came, you would agree to bring her, and to have her wear
her school uniform?Ó
ÒOh, she is too young,Ó my aunt said.
ÒThatÕs why he is offering you a million dollars,Ó Jordan said.
ÒI have told you that money isnÕt important to me,Ó Rebecca told
him. She gave me a quick look, and I kept quiet.
Jordan reached into his coat. He drew forth a small portable phone
and handed it to my aunt. ÒThen I am authorized to offer you two million,Ó
Jordan said. ÒHere. Call your bank. You will find that one million has
already been deposited.Ó My auntÕs eyes grew large. ÒYes, because of his
great admiration for you, he researched your bank, and went ahead and
deposited a million dollars, which you may begin spending at once if you
like. Even if you never visit him.Ó
Reluctantly my aunt accepted the phone. I sat stock still, watching
as she dialed some numbers into the handset. She listened, then dialed
some more numbers. When she was finished she handed the phone back to
Jordan.
ÒYour friend is a generous man, but he has violated my privacy, and
that of my niece, by finding out where I keep my money,Ó my aunt said.
ÒYou are rejecting him then?Ó Jordan asked. ÒDespite his show of
sincerity?Ó
My aunt looked at Jordan for what seemed forever. He gazed back at
her, and I sat like a small squirrel between them, watching them both,
wanting to say something, anything, to break the silence, but knowing that
my aunt was locked into a gaze with this man Jordan that I dare not break.
For she had on her face the sort of look she got whenever a man affected
her. He was now not just gazing into her eyes, but into her uterus.
Finally my aunt said, very quietly, ÒWhat would your friend wish to
do with us... as his guests?Ó
ÒHe would keep you for a week,Ó Jordan said. ÒYou would not be
permitted to leave and you would be required to do his bidding.Ó
ÒOh really?Ó my aunt said. She brushed back her hair and sipped at
her coffee. ÒAnd what should we pack for our visit? What should we
wear?Ó
ÒAnything you need will be provided for you,Ó Jordan said.
ÒItÕs cold out.Ó my aunt said.
ÒYou will be kept warm,Ó Jordan said. Again their eyes stared.
ÒWe will be well treated?Ó my aunt asked at last.
ÒYou will be treated sumptuously at times and at other times as
befits inhabitants of a place where the windows are barred and the doors
are locked,Ó Jordan said. ÒBut always with care and admiration. Even
when he must be... cruel.Ó
I gripped my egg nog. The glass was large and tall in my hands. My
aunt, lifting her coffee, nearly spilled it on herself.
ÒHe wishes to be cruel?Ó my aunt asked, her eyes wide.
ÒOnly as he must be,Ó Jordan said.
ÒNo.Ó My aunt said. Her voice was definite. ÒIt has been amusing
hearing your tale, sir, and I am sure we will enjoy spending your friendÕs
money, but the answer is quite absolutely ÔnoÕ.Ó
ÒWould you do it for love?Ó Jordan asked. My aunt bit her lip, made
to rise, then settled into her chair again and said,
ÒWhen I love a man I do my best to please him.Ó
ÒThen, just once, give of yourself as if you loved, though you do not,
and you will find yourself amply rewarded,Ó Jordan said. My aunt looked
at him and, very quietly, after a long, long moment, said,
ÒIf thatÕs what you wish, Jordan.Ó
ÒIt is,Ó Jordan answered.
ÒHurry, Chloe! They will be here for us any minute,Ó my aunt called
to me.
ÒIÕm still eating my Lunchables, auntie,Ó I answered. I dipped a
cracker in jalapeno cheese sauce and plopped it onto the pile of bologna IÕd
made. I licked my finger, which had gotten some of the sauce on it. The
taste made my tongue hot. Quickly I sipped at the pouch of BerryBlast
Juice beside my Lunchables.
ÒChloe!Ó my aunt said. She walked into the kitchen. I was sitting at
the bar, on a high stool. A portable T.V. was showing my favorite video:
ÒThe Brave Little ToasterÓ. (Dumb, I know, but IÕd liked it ever since I
was little.)
Even though I was eating, I was already dressed to go. I wore my
hair loose and free. Modestly-sized hoop earrings dangled under the mane
of my hair. There was a dog collar around my neck. My aunt had locked it
on me, with a key. A leash was connected to it, and trailed down my back.
At the end of the leash there was a leather loop. A person could put their
hand through it to hold me.
ÒDid you put on the clothes I laid out for you?Ó my aunt asked me.
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I answered. I picked up my stack of bologna and
crackers and bit into it. Crumbs spilled. I chewed loudly and watched my
video. On the T.V. the toaster was donning his cape and leaping out of a
window.
ÒLet me see,Ó my aunt said. She stepped around the bar to get a
better look at me. She had hurried me out of the bath tub half an hour ago
and dried me and locked the collar on me, while I stood still half-dripping,
naked as the day I was born. Now she gazed at me in my new clothes to
make sure IÕd put them on properly. ÒGet down from the stool,Ó my aunt
said. She took hold of my leash and tugged on it.
ÒAuntie!Ó I whined. But I jumped down. She turned me as I watched
T.V., eating my Lunchables. She looked at me.
I wore a tight crop top. It was black, see-through. My bosoms,
hugged by the small shirt, showed their nipples under the finely woven
fabric. My belly was bare. My aunt and I had been tanning ourselves at a
salon and my belly was the color of toasted chestnuts. Black bikini
panties ringed my hips. The panties were just a scrap of fabric, with a
spaghetti-thin waistband and a small triangle of cloth to cover my pubis.
In back, the triangle meant to cover my ass had already been lost between
the cheeks of my bottom.
ÒOh!Ó my aunt said. She slipped a finger into my tensing cheeks and
plucked the back of my panties out of my ass. She smoothed them across
my bottom as I took another sip from my BerryBlast drink.
In a nod to modesty, my undies werenÕt see-through. But, since the
fabric of their pouch, in front, just covered my pubic mound, they left very
little to the imagination. The size of the pouch just matched the triangle
of my pubic hair. Between my legs, where there should have been a gusset
to contain the lips of my quim, there was only a single strand, as thin as
my waistband. It was stuck between the lips of my cunt. I found it rather
disconcerting, for it was making my clitty buzz.
ÒOh! Your panties are too small,Ó my aunt said. She tugged at the
waistband of them, straightening them on my hips. The effect of their
brevity was enhanced by the image of my swimsuit, burned into my skin at
the tanning salon. My tanned skin gave way to ivory white, and then, at
last, my panties clung to me, much smaller than the decent-sized swim
panties IÕd worn at the salon.
ÒYou picked these, auntie,Ó I said. I reached down and tugged at the
front of my swimsuit. It was a futile gesture. Trying to pull the panties
higher on myself only tightened the string-like gusset between my legs,
making it press more urgently to my clit. Taking my straw out of my
mouth, I set my BerryBlast juice up on the bar.
ÒCan I take my video with me?Ó I asked. ÒI could watch it while IÕm
there. IÕll bet they only have boring T.V. shows there.Ó
ÒNo, you cannot,Ó my aunt said. She seemed to dismiss the
inadequacy of my panties and instead turned her attention to my legs.
ÒHow are your boots? Are they polished?Ó my aunt asked. She crouched
down and brushed her hands across them, almost stroking them. My boots
had zippers running up their sides. They stretched to my knees. Above
them, my legs were bare. I liked the feel of them upon my legs.
ÒDid you shine them before you put them on?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒDid you get rid of the scuff marks?Ó my aunt inquired. She looked
at the toes of my boots.
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I said again. Receiving my boots yesterday, IÕd worn
them all around the house, loving the feel of the new leather upon my legs.
My boots had fur lining, to keep them from chafing me. But IÕd scuffed
them yesterday, playing in them.
ÒHow you could manage to scuff a new pair of boots just by playing
indoors is beyond me,Ó my aunt said. ÒBut they look fine now. Good, Chloe.
You actually did some real work for a change!Ó
ÒIÕm not lazy, auntie,Ó I sighed. ÒIt was when I was sliding down the
bannister that I scuffed them.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó my aunt said. She lifted her hands to my waist. In
addition to my panties, I wore, rather incongruously, a belt. The belt was
not connected to my panties, but was quite separate from them, hanging
loosely around my waist. It was made of metal squares. They were linked
together, like links in a chain. Each square was inlaid with a sign from
the zodiac. ÒOh. How sexy you look, wearing your little panties, with such
a big, heavy belt hanging off your waist,Ó my aunt remarked. ÒHere is my
sign: Pisces.Ó
ÒWhat sign am I, auntie?Ó I asked, looking down at my belt.
ÒYou were born only one sign away from me, Chloe,Ó my aunt said.
ÒYours is the eleventh sign, and mineÕs the twelfth. YouÕre an Aquarius.Ó
ÒI think that has something to do with the water,Ó I said.
ÒYes. It means Water Bearer,Ó my aunt said. I had twin chains
dangling down from the buckle of my belt. Each was slim, in contrast to
the heaviness of my belt, and, pendulously hanging, they gave the faint
illusion of a male sex organ. My aunt tugged on them, and asked, ÒSpeaking
of which, Chloe, do you have to go to the bathroom? It will be a long ride.Ó
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒThen go,Ó my aunt said. ÒI donÕt want you speaking of it in the car.Ó
I walked from the kitchen. Immediately I felt my panties grow
narrow in back. A moment later the rear triangle of my panties was once
again lost within my bottomcrack. I reached back behind myself and
yanked them out.
ÒYouÕre right, auntie. These panties are too small!Ó I said.
ÒI tried to pick sexy things for us to wear but I guess I did choose a
pair that was too little,Ó my aunt said. ÒIÕll go search in your underwear
drawer for a better pair, Chloe.Ó
ÒYes, please!Ó I cried. I went to the bathroom. When I was done and
came back into the kitchen my aunt was there with a bigger pair. They
were closer to the size of the bikini panties IÕd worn to the salon, still
black, but with a proper gusset and a wider waistband.
Just then the doorbell rang.
ÒIÕll get it!Ó I cried.
ÒChloe! Put on your panties first!Ó my aunt called after me. But I
was already running for the door, eager to show off my boots to Jordan,
and my belt with all the zodiac signs on it.
Jordan was dressed in a suit and tie. His eyes widened when he saw
me in my boots, my crop top, my panties and my belt, with a collar buckled
around my throat.
ÒI thought I instructed your aunt to have you dress in your school
clothes,Ó Jordan said.
ÒOh,Ó I replied. ÒWe spent all yesterday shopping, Jordan. And
Rebecca bought me boots. Look!Ó I stuck out my right leg and showed him
one of my boots. ÒI polished them myself, because I scuffed them,Ó I told
him.
ÒRebecca! DonÕt stand in the door dressed like that! We must put on
our coats!Ó my aunt said. She came running from the kitchen. She was
holding my panties. They swung from her fingertips as she ran, delicate, a
small black invitation. Jordan smiled.
ÒI didnÕt mean to catch you girls while you were still dressing,Ó
Jordan said. He stepped inside. Gently he closed the front door, to keep
out the cold.
ÒWeÕre dressed!Ó I told him. ÒExcept I have to change my panties.
TheyÕre too small.Ó
Jordan looked at us. My aunt was dressed as sexily as I. In her case,
she wore a black leather jacket. It hung off her slim shoulders, and was
unbuttoned. Underneath it she was nude. Her brown, tanned skin showed
within the open halves of her jacket. Her breasts, free of any bra, thrust
into the jacket, which draped over them, covering her nipples, but leaving
the inner curves of her breasts showing. Where her swimsuit bra had
covered her at the tanning salon, white skin showed, firm and full, like
promising melons, the jacket hiding the tips of her breasts, but revealing
the white inner curves of her bosom.
ÒYouÕve... been tanning,Ó Jordan said to my aunt.
ÒYes,Ó she answered.
ÒThe contrast of what is tanned and what is not is stunning,Ó Jordan
told her.
ÒThank you,Ó my aunt answered. ÒI thought youÕd like it.Ó
ÒAs for her, I told you I wished to see her outfitted as if she were
attending her school,Ó Jordan said, pointing to me.
ÒShe may dress however you wish,Ó my aunt said. She smiled. ÒYou
look very handsome, Jordan.Ó
ÒThanks,Ó he answered. My aunt stepped forward and kissed him.
Their mouths meshed. My aunt pressed herself to him. She lifted her arms
and put them around JordanÕs neck. My panties dangled from her
fingertips.
When at last their kiss ended, and my aunt stepped back, Jordan once
again gazed at her in wonder and admiration. In addition to her jacket, my
aunt wore a leather miniskirt. It had a slit up its side. When my aunt
turned, Jordan could see that my aunt wore no panties under her skirt.
Through the unzipped side of her skirt he saw the white panty line left by
the bikini sheÕd worn at the tanning salon.
ÒYou are gorgeous,Ó Jordan told my aunt. His eyes fell rapturously
from her waist to the long boots that she wore on her legs. They
stretched to mid-thigh, and had stiletto heels. My aunt did a pirouette,
enjoying JordanÕs attention.
ÒDo you wish you could have me?Ó my aunt asked him.
ÒYes,Ó Jordan said. ÒBut I cannot. It is not I who paid you the two
million dollars.Ó
Rebecca handed me the pair of panties sheÕd been holding. ÒGo into
your room and change,Ó she said.
ÒOkay, auntie,Ó I answered.
Jordan, who had been devoting all his attention to my aunt, now
looked again at me.
ÒWhat is she doing?Ó he asked.
ÒShe must change her panties. They are too small,Ó my aunt said.
ÒThey stick in my bottom crack,Ó I told Jordan.
ÒNo. I mean, they are fine,Ó Jordan said. ÒKeep the ones you have on.
I like them.Ó He reached down and took out of my fingers the larger pair
IÕd meant to change into. He looked at my aunt. ÒYou are lovely,Ó he told
her. ÒTurn around.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó my aunt asked. But she obeyed. She was smiling and I think
she was in love with Jordan.
ÒI cannot have you for myself,Ó Jordan said. ÒI am only an emissary.
But let me have just a small influence upon you. Let me bind your hands
during our ride, so you can be my captive for a little while.Ó
My aunt looked over her shoulder. She flicked back her hair. It was
loosely pinned up, and a strand popped free when she tossed back her head.
ÒAlright,Ó Rebecca said. She put her wrists behind her. Jordan
reached out and, taking the panties which IÕd intended to wear, he tied
them about her wrists. He checked to make sure that the knot was tight.
ÒNow, for a little while, you are mine,Ó Jordan said.
ÒYes, Jordan,Ó my aunt replied breathlessly.
ÒCan I be yours too?Ó I asked.
ÒChloe,Ó my aunt said. Distractedly she looked at me, flicking back
her hair again.
ÒWhy do you get all the attention?Ó I said.
ÒWould you like your hands tied also, Chloe?Ó Jordan asked me.
ÒNo,Ó I lied. I looked at him and put my hands on my zodiac belt, like
a gunslinger reaching for pistols. The pendant chains hanging from my
belt buckle swayed between my legs.
ÒYou are lovely too,Ó Jordan said.
ÒPut on your coat, Chloe,Ó my aunt told me. She looked at Jordan.
ÒWill you help with mine?Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Jordan said.
I got my coat out of the hall closet and put it on. It was a fur coat,
perfect for winter, stretching down to my knees, hiding me and my too-
small panties inside it. Jordan got my auntÕs coat and draped it over her.
She remained with her hands tied behind her, the sleeves of her coat
hanging loose.
ÒGet my purse, Chloe,Ó my aunt said. ÒItÕs on the table in the living
room.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I said. I ran from the foyer, my boots clattering on the floor.
I went first to my bedroom and fetched my own purse. It was a special
one that IÕd bought for our trip. It was small, made of black leather. The
strap of the purse was a silver chain. Then I went and got my auntÕs purse
from the living room. When I returned Jordan looked at me and said,
ÒLeave those. You will not need a purse, either of you. Everything
will be provided.Ó
ÒBut Jordan,Ó my aunt said. She was standing beside him with her
coat draped over her, her hands still tied behind her. ÒI need my purse. I
have... my pills.Ó
ÒLeave them,Ó Jordan told me again.
ÒOkay,Ó I said. I placed my auntÕs purse on a table in the foyer. I
kept hold of my own, though, telling Jordan, ÒI have my bubblegum
collection in my purse. I never go ANYWHERE without it!Ó
Jordan chuckled. ÒAlright, Chloe, you may bring your bubblegum if
you wish,Ó he said.
ÒCan I eat a piece right now?Ó I asked. I opened my purse.
ÒJust donÕt get any bubblegum stuck to the limoÕs seat,Ó Jordan told
me. He put his hands on my aunt and turned her so that she faced the front
door.
ÒLetÕs go,Ó he whispered.
ÒJordan, I really do need my purse!Ó my aunt said. ÒWhat if I get--Ó
ÒPregnant?Ó Jordan asked.
ÒYes!Ó my aunt said. ÒAnd I have ChloeÕs pills too. She doesnÕt
always think of things like that, you know. I have to keep track of them
for her or--Ó
Jordan put a finger to my auntÕs lips. ÒShhhh.Ó he said. ÒYou are
going to meet a man who is very wealthy. Do not concern yourself with
anything. Anything at all. He will take care of everything for you now.
You must go to him completely unprotected. Completely. Do you
understand?Ó
ÒYes, but I do not wish to bear his children,Ó my aunt said.
ÒCompletely unprotected, and vulnerable,Ó Jordan said. He opened
the front door. It was snowing again, and a flurry of snow blew in. The
wind had picked up.
ÒWould you like to hear a story?Ó Jordan asked my aunt, as we
stepped outside.
ÒYes,Ó she answered. Then she turned to me and said, ÒRebecca,
check to see that the door key is under the mat. I donÕt want us not to be
able to get back in.Ó
ÒIt is, auntie,Ó I said. I shut the front door, then looked under the
mat. The key gleamed up at me. ÒBut what about my collar, auntie?Ó I
asked.
ÒOh.Ó Rebecca said. ÒI left it inside.Ó Jordan looked at me. ÒI
locked her collar on her. To be sexy,Ó my aunt told him.
We went back inside. Jordan had me fetch the key to my collar from
my auntÕs bedroom. He put it in his jacket. Then we went out again, and
as he led us to a stretch limo that was parked in the drive, he told my
aunt, ÒThe man you are seeing. You will not be his first guests. He is a
great admirer of beauty, and he has beautiful men visit him as well as
beautiful women. Last week it was a young man that I brought. My master
had seen him win a swimming contest, on T.V. He invited the young man to
come and swim in his pool. It being a private pool, when the young man
arrived, my master invited him to swim naked. The young man pulled off
his suit and swam with his penis free. It quickly grew erect from his
enthusiasm at being able to swim unhindered. When he got out of the pool,
the boy saw that his suit was no longer where heÕd left it. My master had
hidden it. The boy was angry, but my master told him that he looked like a
God without his suit on.
ÒDo you use it often?Ó my master asked the boy.
ÒWhat?Ó the boy answered. ÒMy swimsuit? I use it every day. I
practise every day at college and so I need it.Ó My master laughed.
ÒNot your swimsuit, you dolt. Your penis.Ó
ÒOh,Ó the boy said, standing there with his dick sticking out, still
excited from his swim, though now he was rather embarrassed to be
showing himself to my master, who was dressed in a suit and lounging in a
chair by the pool. ItÕs an indoor pool, heated and protected from the
inclement weather outside.
ÒI use it as often as I can,Ó the boy said. ÒBut IÕm not gay or
anything, so if thatÕs what youÕre thinking...Ó
ÒNot at all,Ó my master told him. ÒI am an artist, of sorts. An
admirer of beauty. With my eyes only, however, for it would be too much
work to try to capture all the beauty I see with paint or with photographs.
But I enjoy admiring beauty, and I have a deal for you. I will let you swim
in my pool every day, which you obviously enjoy, if you will do so without
your swimsuit. I wish to admire your form. All of it, without anything
getting in the way.Ó
ÒOh,Ó the boy said. ÒYou mean you want to look at my dick.Ó
ÒYou are too Puritanical,Ó my master laughed. ÒBut it isnÕt your
fault. ItÕs this stupid society we live in. I donÕt wish to look only at your
penis, young man, but at your whole body, all of you, in your completely
natural state. Do you understand?Ó
ÒYes. I guess so,Ó the boy answered. ÒBut IÕm still not interested.
Just give me back my suit and IÕll go.Ó
ÒDo you feel vulnerable standing there before me with your penis
exposed, showing your arousal?Ó my master asked him frankly.
ÒYes,Ó the boy said. ÒAnd I donÕt want to be a damn faggot, either. I
donÕt know why IÕm so fucking hard. I mean, shit, thereÕs just you and me
here.Ó
ÒIt is the freedom,Ó my master told him. He was smoking a pipe and
he paused to re-light it and then he continued: ÒYou are aroused by your
freedom. You do not have to worry that you are gay. You are accustomed
to wearing your suit when you swim, and today you were, for the first
time, able to swim naked. Now you have someone looking at you, openly
admiring you, and that is also arousing you, even though I am a man. You
should enjoy your randiness and not fight it. Go ahead. Show yourself. Do
not worry about the vulnerability of it. Show your sexual readiness. You
are young and strong and yet at the same time excitingly vulnerable,
because your big penis is sticking out, all exposed and showing your
desire. Enjoy the tension of showing yourself off to a man. Do you find me
handsome?Ó
ÒNo,Ó the boy told him. My master laughed again.
ÒAll the better,Ó he said. ÒI saw you win a silver medal on T.V. We
both know that, to succeed, and not just be a male version of Nancy
Kerrigan, you must win gold medals, not silver ones.Ó
ÒI need to practise more, thatÕs all,Ó the boy said.
ÒYes, you do,Ó my master told him. ÒBut youÕre a slacker at heart,
arenÕt you?Ó
ÒJust give me back my damn swimsuit!Ó the boy said.
ÒI am going to make you a champion, young man,Ó my Master said.
ÒDo you know how IÕm going to do that?Ó
ÒNo,Ó the boy said, and looking in from a doorway, neither of them
knowing I was there, I could see that the boy was as curious as I as to how
my master proposed to make him into a champion.
ÒYou are going to stay here,Ó my master said. ÒYou are going to train
in my pool, day and night. You will swim naked, because it will be
necessary. The reason for that is, at night, you will be chained, so that
you cannot play with yourself and make yourself cum. As a result you will
have the biggest, hugest penis any young man has ever had, because you
will be constantly erect, never permitted to orgasm, and you will train
yourself hard, in the pool, because you will be desperate to ejaculate. Do
you desire women? I will give you women. A champion deserves women
to indulge him. But they will be a mixed blessing, for they will not be
permitted to make you cum, but only to tease you, to keep you in a
constant state of arousal. As a result of your desperation to cum,
prolonged over many days, you will become a champion, young man.Ó
The boy looked at my master in wonderment. I could see in his eyes
that he knew the strategy would work, yet he still feared the humiliation
of it, being forced to swim naked, being teased, being tormented with his
own desire.
ÒAre you game for my plan?Ó my master asked him when the boy had
stood mute for some time.
ÒI- I donÕt know,Ó the boy said. But when my master showed him the
girls he would have at his disposal, calling them in, letting him gaze at
them, and see them dressed in their small bikinis, he agreed, blushing at
his nudity before them.
ÒDoes he still live there?Ó I asked. We were in the limo now, and it
was snowing harder outside.
ÒYes,Ó Jordan said. ÒHe swims every day, and sometimes at night I
hear him screaming with pleasure, as the girls torment him, keeping him
hard and strong, yet not letting him find the release which, kept from him,
forces him to swim even harder during the day. He wears leather
bracelets on his wrists and ankles now, to show his obedience to my
masterÕs plans for him. He is becoming a very fast swimmer.Ó
ÒIt- it is an exciting story,Ó my aunt confessed. She squirmed on the
limoÕs seat, her arms still tied behind her. ÒI should enjoy meeting him,Ó
she said.
ÒYou will find this most interesting,Ó Jordan told her. ÒWhen the
boy, from weariness, lags in his swimming, he is ordered to get out of the
pool and kneel on all fours. His bottom is beaten with birch rods to
inspire him to swim more quickly.Ó
ÒOh!Ó my aunt said. She opened her thighs. She sighed. I tugged at
the waistband of my panties, making them tight between my legs. ÒWho
whips him?Ó she asked.
ÒThe girls,Ó Jordan said. ÒOnce my master did it, but most times the
girls do it. They take turns. They seem to find it exciting, watching his
big balls swing back and forth between his legs as they flog him, and
seeing how his dick quivers.Ó
ÒYes,Ó both I and my aunt gasped.
ÒThat is how it is with my master,Ó Jordan said. ÒSome people
concentrate on the mind. Too many, in the opinion of my master. So, in
compensation, he concentrates exclusively on the body. That is why he
insists on the vulnerability of those who visit him. You must let go,
completely, and put your body in his hands. Because otherwise, there is
the danger that you will still be caught up with things of the mind, and not
release yourself fully into the realm of the body. Only when you are
completely focused on your body can you completely let go of the world
outside and its concerns. Then, when you finally return to that world, you
will find yourself stronger and more confident, more self-assured, both in
body and mind.Ó
ÒIs that why we must be castrated?Ó I asked.
Jordan laughed. ÒNot castrated, Chloe. Incarcerated. Yes. For a
week. Then my master can mold you and help you forget your mind for
awhile, and think only of your body.Ó
ÒWill it hurt?Ó I asked him. Outside it was snowing hard, but we
were warm in the limo.
ÒThe body can feel both pleasure and pain, and both are excellent
training tools,Ó Jordan said. ÒMy master will use what is fit, what is
suitable. You need not concern yourself with his techniques.Ó
ÒI donÕt want it to hurt,Ó I said.
ÒChloe,Ó Rebecca said, but then her voice broke off, and she squirmed
again.
ÒYou are not wearing any panties, are you?Ó Jordan asked my aunt
frankly.
ÒNo,Ó my aunt blushed.
ÒHas the story of the young man excited you?Ó Jordan asked.
ÒA- A little,Ó my aunt said.
ÒI have something to show you,Ó Jordan said. He opened a small
container in front of us, where drinks were kept. He pulled out of the ice
something big and hefty. It had veins on it, a shaft and a head.
ÒItÕs a penis!Ó I cried.
ÒIt is a bronze replica of the swimmerÕs penis,Ó Jordan said. ÒMade
from a plaster cast.Ó
ÒIt- ItÕs big, but quite beautiful,Ó my aunt confessed. She moved her
hips again and shifted her legs wider apart.
ÒI would like you to lick it,Ó Jordan told my aunt. ÒAnd then I would
like to attempt to put it up you. We have a long ride ahead, but you can
begin to think about your body right now.Ó
ÒOh. Is this what you want?Ó my aunt asked, looking at Jordan.
ÒYes,Ó he said.
Tentatively, my aunt stuck out her tongue. Jordan put the bronze
close to her face and she licked it.
ÒDonÕt do it, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒDo you wish to have it yourself?Ó Jordan asked me.
ÒNo!Ó I said.
ÒThen do not speak unless you are spoken to,Ó Jordan told me. ÒWe
must begin to show some restraint now, Chloe. Keep quiet. Think only of
your body, and watch as your aunt takes this into herself.Ó
My aunt licked the shaft until it gleamed, then the head, her spit
making it slick and wet. Jordan reached down and opened her coat. He
lifted her skirt. He pushed the dildo up between her thighs.
ÒOpen,Ó he told her. ÒYouÕre too tight.Ó
ÒI-- IÕm trying. ItÕs so large!Ó my aunt gushed. She spread her legs
wider.
ÒAuntie! ItÕs just a big fake thing!Ó I said.
Jordan pushed harder. My aunt gasped.
ÒIt- itÕs going in!Ó my aunt cried. Watching, I put my hands to my
face and screamed. Jordan and Rebecca ignored me. He pushed harder. She
received. Slowly the dong slid up into her.
ÒI am forbidden to do this with my cock, but I can pleasure you with
this, to prepare you for my master,Ó Jordan told my aunt.
ÒYes. I shall pretend it is you,Ó Rebecca replied. Her eyes were
squeezed tightly shut now, but her legs were wide apart. She made small
mewling sounds as the fake dick pushed harder and deeper into her.
ÒAuntie, you are taking it,Ó I gasped.
ÒShe is fucked,Ó Jordan said.
ÒI am... a woman,Ó my aunt sighed. ÒOh, I love you, Jordan!Ó my aunt
cried. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Jordan withdrew the cock a
little and then pushed it up higher. She moaned.
ÒI cannot let you cum with it. You must tell me when you are close,Ó
Jordan told her. My aunt bit her lip.
ÒIf you insist, Jordan,Ó she said. I tugged at my panties. The string-
like gusset was tight in my slit.
ÒYouÕre sexy, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒIÕm stuffed,Ó she gasped. Her fur coat, already unbuttoned, fell off
her shoulders. Her leather coat that she wore underneath the fur slipped
off the tips of her bosoms. Her nipples showed in all their aroused, hard-
tipped glory. Rebecca arched her back and thrust her breasts toward the
roof of our limo. She strained, her legs wide, her arms bound behind her,
her pointy breasts stretching upward.
ÒI must remove it now. You are becoming too excited,Ó Jordan told
her.
ÒNo!Ó Rebecca gasped.
ÒIt is necessary,Ó he said. ÒIt is all part of the training. Do not
fight me, Rebecca. Do not clench yourself.Ó He withdrew the cock from
her. My aunt sighed. Her posture slumped. I diddled my slit with my
finger, lifting my gusset out from between my lips to do it.
ÒChloe, do not,Ó Rebecca said, lifting her head slightly.
ÒWhat, auntie?Ó I asked.
ÒDo not play with yourself,Ó Rebecca told me. I blushed.
ÒIÕm not, auntie,Ó I lied.
ÒDo as she tells you, Chloe,Ó Jordan said. ÒLet me see your hands.
Bring them out from underneath your fur coat.Ó
I complied. My fingertips were wet.
ÒOhhh,Ó Rebecca sighed. She bowed her head and let her chin rest on
her chest.
ÒLift it,Ó Jordan said, putting a finger beneath her face. My aunt
raised her head. She squeezed her thighs together. ÒLegs apart,Ó Jordan
said. ÒYou must not close them or cross one leg over the other. Keep your
lips open also Your mouth, open it. Keep it ready to receive.Ó
My aunt closed her eyes. She sighed. ÒYou are cruel to put that thing
to me, and then to take it away,Ó my aunt told Jordan.
ÒPerhaps,Ó he said. ÒBut sometimes one must be cruel, if learning is
to take place.Ó
ÒAm I learning now?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒYes,Ó he said. ÒYou are learning to control your desire. Keep your
mouth open. ThatÕs it. Make your lips round, like an O. Very good. Now I
will put the cock to your mouth, and we will see how much of it you can
take.Ó
ÒOh! But it is wet with myself!Ó my aunt cried.
ÒWould you like me to lick it clean first?Ó Jordan asked her. My
auntÕs eyes widened. She smiled.
ÒYes, Jordan,Ó she said. ÒPlease.Ó
ÒThis is the perfect soil and climate for wine making,Ó Jordan
remarked, as we passed between snow-laden hills. My aunt sucked
dutifully on the dildo. It split her lips wide apart, making her mouth into
an O, which might have been seductive had the cockÕs size not stretched
her mouth so completely. He was big, the swimmer who was the guest of
the man we were going to meet. I felt myself longing to taste him. What
did such a large, oxlike penis feel like, in the flesh?
ÒOooh,Ó I gasped, unaware of the sound I was making as I watched
my aunt. Jordan, who was sitting beyond her, leaned out past her sucking
figure and looked at me.
ÒYes, Chloe?Ó he asked. ÒDo you have to go to the bathroom?Ó I
suppose distress was showing in my face. I kept my eyes on the bronze
replica of the swimmerÕs penis and said, my lips pursed in an O,
ÒNoooo.Ó
ÒOh.Ó Jordan said. He pulled the cock from my auntÕs mouth. She
sucked at it as he drew it out of her, frantically. She did not wish to give
it up, despite its size and intrusiveness.
ÒHere,Ó Jordan said, when the cock was free of my auntÕs grasping
lips. She gazed at it forlornly as he presented it to my mouth. It was wet
with my auntÕs saliva but I didnÕt care. I wanted.
ÒChloe! It is too big!Ó my aunt cautioned. I was, after all, only 13.
But greedily I spread my lips wide and received the penis into my mouth.
ÒOook!Ó I managed to gasp as the big, bronze object filled me. My
aunt had been right-- it was too big for me. I felt like some farm animal,
being experimented upon, as the big dong was forced into my mouth.
Perhaps it was a test of some new method of inseminating sheep. But
they had chosen me, a young new lamb in the barnyard, to test their
method on.
ÒYes. You can take it,Ó Jordan told me. ÒSuck.Ó
ÒOh! DonÕt gag her with it!Ó my aunt cautioned. My eyes bulged. I
think I said Òbaaa!Ó somewhere deep down inside me as the big organ
shoved its way back to my throat and made my mouth into a receptacle, my
teeth shoved wide, my jaw nearly cracking, my lips stretched beyond
belief.
ÒI wish I could make it ejaculate,Ó Jordan said, watching as I took
the penis.
ÒShe would drown,Ó my aunt countered.
ÒHow well she takes it, despite having such a small mouth,Ó Jordan
said. I breathed urgently through my nose. I was unable to take air
through my mouth, despite having my lips forced wide by the fullness of
the penis.
Rebecca laughed. ÒYou should hear her around my house. She has a
big mouth, I assure you. Perhaps I should ask to buy this dong, to keep her
quiet when sheÕs at home with me.Ó
ÒYou would not ask to buy it for some other reason?Ó Jordan queried
her. My aunt blushed. I blushed too, the big penis penetrating me and
making my pussy wet. My auntÕs hands were tied behind her but mine were
free. I reached up and took hold of the dildo with my fingers. I held it like
a child holds a cup, with both hands. Jordan kept hold of the end of it,
pushing it deeper into me. Suddenly one of my hands dropped to between
my legs and I began rubbing my slit.
ÒNo. Do not, Chloe,Ó Rebecca told me. She turned her head. With her
eyes she beseeched Jordan to stop me. He did, reaching down between my
open thighs and taking hold of my hand. He drew my fingers away from my
slit.
ÒIt is not about fulfillment, but about desire, Chloe,Ó Jordan said.
He pulled the penis from my mouth. I gasped. I drew in breath through my
mouth and felt relief and yet desperate need also.
ÒI am going to bind your hands behind you until we arrive, Chloe,Ó
Jordan said. He reached into the pocket of his coat. He drew forth a shiny
metal pair of police handcuffs. ÒI was going to use these on your aunt,Ó
Jordan said. ÒInstead I used your panties, Chloe.Ó He laughed. ÒAnd it is
well, too, for if you had put on those normal-sized panties, Chloe, it would
have spoiled the lovely effect of seeing you in ones that are too small.Ó
ÒOh, I do not want handcuffs,Ó I said. ÒAnd stop laughing at my
panties.Ó I still wore my fur coat, though I had unbuttoned it, and I pulled
it snugly around me.
ÒDid you think you were still six years old when you picked out those
panties that youÕre wearing?Ó Jordan asked me.
ÒI didnÕt pick them!Ó I told him, hotly. My face was red. ÒRebecca
picked them for me!Ó
My aunt blushed. ÒI was trying to pick sexy things for her,Ó Rebecca
said. ÒBut obviously I made a mistake.Ó
Jordan reached for me. He turned me so that my back was to him. He
tugged off my coat. He tossed it aside, onto the floor. He drew my arms
behind me. His hands were large and firm on my little wrists. He snapped
the handcuffs on me. My back arched, my bosoms thrust forward as I felt
myself made captive.
ÒThey are not a mistake,Ó Jordan said to my aunt. ÒI love seeing
Chloe in those tiny panties, and my master will love them too, I think. I
like how they wedge themselves in her ass, and rub within the lips of her
pussy, keeping her aroused and aware of herself. They are good panties,
useful in instructing her in erotic desire.Ó
ÒOh, do not make the handcuffs too tight!Ó I whined. In his
enthusiasm for my sexiness Jordan was clamping the cuffs hard to my
wrists.
ÒIÕm sorry, Chloe,Ó Jordan answered. He loosened my cuffs slightly,
using a key, then he checked to make sure that I could not wriggle out of
them. ÒYour hands are quite small,Ó Jordan said.
ÒI am only in 8th grade,Ó I answered.
My aunt and I sat restrained, our arms pulled behind us and bound.
Our legs remained parted, as Jordan wished, and our mouths formed pretty,
receptive OÕs. I looked at Rebecca and she blushed. Her bosoms rose and
fell with her breathing. Jordan had not bothered to close her jacket or her
coat and her nipples showed like stiff thorns at the tips of her thrusting
breasts. My own nipples were hard too, pushing with pointy desire into
the fabric of my crop top. My panties felt wet. I knew Rebecca must be
wet also, between her legs, where the fake cock had driven itself into her.
We were trollops, very high priced, to be sure, but trollops all the same,
and the thought of how weÕd permitted ourselves to be debased filled me
with both shame and lust.
ÒIt is a cool climate here, even in the summer,Ó Jordan remarked,
gazing out the limoÕs side window at the frozen vineyards we were
passing. Our car was climbing. The hills were rising more steeply around
us. ÒYet despite its coolness, even in the summer, the grapes are still
able to ripen to full maturity,Ó Jordan said. He was speaking absently,
half to us and half to himself, speaking with little purpose except to pass
the time. I glanced between his legs and saw he possessed a distinct
bulge there. I guessed it pained him. Had he not been so faithful to his
master he might well have ordered the limo to the side of the road and
relieved himself in us. I admired him for his restraint. Yet at the same
time, with my own sex humming, teased by the brevity of my panties, I
longed to have something shoved into me, hard and deep and without any
pretense of manners. Jordan was well-mannered, and after a while, as we
journeyed on, I began to dislike him for his discretion and his courtesy.
Just as I was beginning to loathe Jordan, our car approached a high,
circular wall. It was very old; vines clung to its side, their leaves dead
from the cold but promising to renew themselves at the first sign of
spring. In places the wall had lost stones; they lay forlornly on the
ground, broken off from their fellows. But despite its extreme age and its
half-broken appearance, the wall was still high and strong enough to form
a complete barrier against any who chose to enter without permission, or
to leave. We drove up to a rusty gate. We waited a moment and then it
swung open to receive us. We passed within and I guessed that the gate
was quite secure, even with its rusty hinges and bars. Two burly men
stood in overcoats, having opened it for us. They gazed at our limo but our
glass was smoked and they could not see inside.
Within the walls was a courtyard. A small space had been shoveled
clean for us to park in. The limo came to a halt. A moment later a man in
an overcoat approached and opened our side door. His eyes widened as he
saw me. I sat with my hands cuffed behind me, my nipples straining into
my sheer crop top, my panties wedged in my pussy lips. I drew my knees
together as he gazed down at me.
ÒNo, Chloe. Always keep your legs apart, even now,Ó Jordan told me.
The man in the overcoat reached within the limo, the cold air coming in
with his arm. He picked up my coat off the floor. He draped it over me.
Then he hauled me out of the limo and made me stand in the snow. I felt
cold. I felt imprisoned too, with my arms locked behind me, still keeping
my lips parted in an O, as Jordan wished to see them. The high wall
enclosing the courtyard towered over me. I shivered and wished I was
home again, and free to do as I wished.
ÒOh!Ó I heard my aunt cry, as the man in the overcoat reached into
the limo and dragged her out. He stood her beside me and I looked up at
her. She blushed and refused to meet my eyes.
Jordan stepped from the limo and brushed a dusting of snow off his
coat. Then he took both myself and my aunt by the arm, and turned us
toward a stone building. I saw a large door. It was set into the side of
the building. It was made of dark wood. Nails, driven into it, studded its
surface. It looked medieval.
ÒShall we go inside?Ó Jordan asked conversationally. I felt my
knees weaken as I stared at the door. There were no windows visible; just
the thick walls, and the iron-studded door.
ÒOh!Ó my aunt gasped. ÒI do not wish to,Ó she said.
ÒI was not actually giving you a choice,Ó Jordan replied, matter-of-
factly. He tugged on both my arm and my auntÕs. We were led forward,
unable to resist, almost unable to stand because of the fear that the big
door inspired. The snow fell around us and the walls loomed high. Jordan
reached the door and drew a ring of keys from his pocket. It was a big
brass ring. The keys jangled upon it. He fumbled with them for a moment,
then inserted one in the door. It proved to be the wrong one and he tried
again. This time he was successful and the ancient mechanism of the door
groaned as he managed to unlock it. He took myself and my aunt by the
arms again, and led us within. The man in the overcoat followed, and after
him the two men who had opened the gate for us.
The interior of the building was lit by candles. I stamped the snow
off my boots. My aunt did the same; behind us the men in overcoats shut
the heavy nail-studded door. They slipped off my fur coat. Then they took
my auntÕs. As soon as they had gotten our coats off, Jordan again took me
and my aunt by the arms, as if he were our father, delivering twin brides
to a groom. Behind us, the men hung our coats in a closet.
A woman came forward through the hushed, candle-lit room. Her
hair hung free. She wore a loose pink sweater. It was unbuttoned all the
way down its front and made no pretense of trying to hide the slumbrous
pair of breasts that she possessed. The woman wore no bra under her open
sweater and her bosoms swayed and bounced as she walked. They were big
breasts. Bigger even than my auntÕs, and they had big half-dollar sized
nipples that looked like they were capable of suckling calves.
ÒOh, here are the new arrivals,Ó the woman said. She smiled at
Jordan, though it was obvious that it was myself and my aunt that she was
speaking of. He let go of our arms and stepped aside. He shook the snow
off his shoes.
ÒDid you have a pleasant ride?Ó the woman asked Jordan.
ÒYes. Quite,Ó Jordan replied. I gazed at the woman and felt
indignant. Why was she ignoring me and my aunt? Casually she brushed
snow off of JordanÕs coat. Her fingernails glistened. They were perfectly
manicured. When she had dusted off JordanÕs coat she looked at her hand.
ÒOh. It must be cold outside,Ó the woman said. Her hand was wet from the
snow.
ÒIt is,Ó Jordan answered.
Below her loose sweater, the woman wore a white miniskirt. It was
quite snug. It hugged her hips like a glove. It was trimmed with a
generous fringe of black lace, for which she must have felt quite
fortunate, for the skirt was very short and had it not been for the lace, her
pubis would have shown under the hem of the skirt. The woman tugged
with her hands on the laced fringe of the skirt and looked at my aunt.
ÒMy name is Katharina,Ó she told my aunt. ÒYou are Rebecca, and this
is Chloe?Ó she did not look at me, but merely nodded her head, ever so
slightly, in my direction.
ÒYes,Ó my aunt said.
ÒThere is no need for you to speak,Ó Katharina said. ÒKeep your lips
pursed into an O. ThatÕs it. I will be taking care of you during your stay.
Whatever you need, I will provide it, if itÕs allowed. Do not ask the men
for anything.Ó
ÒYes,Ó my aunt said, then bit her lip.
Katharina had long legs. They were completely bare, but on her feet
she wore open-toed high heels. They were black. They matched the black
lace trim on her miniskirt. The sleeves of her pink sweater hung to her
wrists. The contrast between her covered arms and her bare legs was
striking. It was accentuated by the nudity of her bosoms, thrusting
through the open halves of her sweater. There was a brooch pinned to her
sweater, over the bulge of her right bosom. It was a curled black whip. It
was small, but sparkled with inlaid diamonds. They crusted its handle and
decorated its tip.
ÒThis way,Ó Katharina said. ÒI will show you both to your cells.Ó
ÒOh!Ó my aunt cried. Jordan stepped between myself and my aunt
again. He retook our arms. He pulled us forward.
We were led past a sofa and chairs, and out into a hall. It was
chillier than the room we had just been in. Oil lamps, hung from the
ceiling, illuminated it. We walked down the hall and followed it around a
corner. There we were presented with the spectacle of two cells, side by
side, each with iron bars across its front.
ÒHere is where youÕll be staying,Ó Katharina said to me and my aunt.
I nearly fainted. Within each barred-off room stood a single bed. It was
narrow, and had a steel frame. Hanging off the corners of the bed were
black straps. Each bed was neatly made, with a single pillow and tightly-
fitted sheets. But upon each, lying there waiting to be used, was a whip, a
wooden paddle, and a spanking strap. There was a mask lying on the bed
also, and a gag made with a red rubber ball.
ÒOh, auntie!Ó I cried.
ÒPlease!Ó my aunt gasped.
ÒWhat? You do not like your rooms?Ó Katharina said. There was
mock disappointment in her voice. She pulled open the barred door to the
nearest room. ÒYou will grow accustomed to them,Ó she told us. Jordan
gripped our arms tightly as she spoke. ÒAfter a week in them some girls
actually dislike having to leave,Ó Katharina said. ÒYou see, here
everything is out of your hands. You need think of nothing. Save, perhaps,
your own desire.Ó She smiled. She took hold of my arm. Jordan let go of
me and she pushed me into the nearest cell. ÒIn you go,Ó she said.
ÒOh, she is too young!Ó my aunt cried.
ÒHmmm?Ó Katharina said. She pulled my door closed, drawing the
bars shut with a clang. She took JordanÕs ring of keys and locked me in.
ÒGirls her age are often sent to reform school,Ó Katharina said.
ÒOh, do not lock me up!Ó my aunt gasped, as Katharina and Jordan led
her to the other cell.
ÒYou are a prisoner, dear,Ó Katharina said. ÒMany women have gone
to prison. Here there is a subtle difference, of course. You are imprisoned
for your beauty, and will find that it is your desire for which you are
punished.Ó
ÒNo!Ó my aunt shrieked, but they tossed her into the cell beside mine
and slammed shut her door.
ÒNow,Ó Katharina said. She tugged on her too-short skirt with her
finely manicured hands. She tossed back her long hair with a flick of her
head. ÒYou will both be good. As you can see, there are implements ready
for use, right in your cell, by any man who finds your demeanor to be
displeasing. You will both be brought dinner shortly. Nothing fancy, of
course, just bagels and bread and a flagon of water. But we have a kitchen
on site and the bread will be fresh baked, that I can assure you. Also, the
water is pure, drawn from a well out back. You will also both be given
pills, which I suggest you swallow if you donÕt wish to leave here with
more than you bargained for.
ÒYou will notice a box of tissues on the floor beside your bed. It is
for wiping yourself after you use the toilet. That, of course, is the
chamber pot you see sitting there in the corner. We have no plumbing or
electricity here in the prison.Ó
ÒOh, please!Ó my aunt said. She sat down forlornly on her bed. The
weight of her body on the bed caused one of the paddles to slide toward
her. She leaped up. She clutched at her bottom with her hands, which
were still tied behind her.
ÒHow ungrateful you are,Ó Katharina scolded. ÒDo you think it is a
simple matter to keep you here? There are cooks and guards who must be
paid. Supplies must be brought in and the lamps must be kept lit and the
cells must be cleaned and swept after they are used. You are not
responsible for any of it; your only duty is to swallow your pills and to
look pretty. Under your bed you will find a small makeup kit and a mirror.
The mirror is not breakable, in case you were wondering. Fix yourselves
up; you both have smeared lipstick. Ah, you are both still bound. Jordan--
go into their cells and undo their hands. They must meet the warden soon,
after they have been fed and had a chance to do their toilet.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Jordan said. He took the ring of keys from Katharina. He
unlocked my cell.
ÒOh! Jordan! Let me go!Ó I pleaded.
ÒBe good or IÕll put you over my knee,Ó Jordan answered. He sat
down on my bed. I was standing; he pulled me to him and turned me around
and unlocked my handcuffs. I rubbed my wrists when they had been freed.
There were red marks on them from the cuffs.
ÒI do not like being a prisoner,Ó I said.
Jordan got up off my bed. He put the handcuffs into a pocket of his
coat. He left my cell and locked the door. Then he let himself into my
auntÕs cell. She looked forlorn. I sat on my bed and gazed at the flickering
lamps in the hall. Jordan untied my panties from my auntÕs wrists. Then
he put them into his coat, in the same pocket that held the handcuffs.
ÒI may need these again,Ó he said to my aunt. ÒFor your wrists, or
perhaps for your mouth.Ó
ÒYou are mean,Ó my aunt said.
ÒSometimes it is best if a man is that way,Ó Jordan said. He kissed
my aunt on her cheek. She drew away from him. He got up and left her cell
and locked the door, so that she could not escape.
ÒBe good, girls,Ó Katharina said to us. Then she took Jordan by the
arm and they left, walking down the hall and around the corner, leaving my
aunt and I to whisper to each other in our dimly-lit cells.
Perhaps it was an hour later when I caught a whiff of hot dough. I
sniffed the air, lying sprawled on my bed, still wearing my panties and
absently fingering myself, my aunt lying on her belly on the bed in her
cell, her hands between her legs.
ÒHmmm? WhatÕs this?Ó a female voice asked. Abruptly my aunt
turned over. She straightened her skirt. I lifted my head and saw a fat
woman standing in the hall. She was dressed in a white apron, with a
matching chefÕs hat upon her head. She carried a large tray. Beside her
was a man. He wore a coat and tie. Despite the crispness of his suit he
wore slippers on his feet. The woman, I saw, also had soft-soled shoes.
ÒYour dinner is ready, girls,Ó the woman said.
ÒHello, girls,Ó the man said. I had not seen him before. He had grey
hair and a mustache. He unlocked my cell. The came into it, accompanied
by the woman. She set a plate down on my bed. There was a loaf of bread
on it, sliced, with a generous helping of butter in a small silver bowl.
ÒYou may dip the bread into the butter with your fingers,Ó the woman told
me. ÒVisitors are not permitted to have knives.Ó She took a glass of
water from the tray and set it on the floor beside my bed. She had a small
piece of paper with a pill on it, powder-blue in color, that she put down on
the floor beside the glass.
ÒAre you enjoying your stay?Ó the man asked me.
ÒNo,Ó I said. I gave him a sulky look.
ÒYou looked to be enjoying it to me,Ó the man said. ÒYou had your
finger between your legs.Ó He drew closer to me. I put a hand over my
pussy and crossed my arms over my breasts. He caught my wrists and
lifted up both my arms. My thighs were pressed together and he said,
ÒOpen your legs. Have you not been taught to always keep your legs
apart?Ó
ÒNo!Ó I said, shouting it, but he knelt on my bed and wedged a knee
between my legs, and forced my thighs apart.
ÒObey, young lady,Ó the fat woman said. ÒI am only the cook, but I
can see when a female is misbehaving. You must never conceal yourself.
Even I am not permitted to conceal myself, if a man should want me.Ó
The man with the grey hair and the mustache let go of one of my
wrists. Gently he reached down and prised my panties out of my cunt with
his fingers. ÒYour panties are wet,Ó he said. ÒSoaked. Have you made
yourself come as you waited in here for your dinner?Ó
ÒNo,Ó I said. There was guilt in my voice.
ÒI think you did,Ó the man said. I glanced at my aunt. She had
diddled her twat and I had too.
ÒThey are bad,Ó the fat woman said.
ÒOh, I do not wish to be here!Ó I moaned.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Sharp, definite, confident. Katharina
appeared outside my cell.
ÒAre they having their dinner?Ó she asked.
ÒWe found them masturbating,Ó the fat woman said.
ÒHer panties are all wet,Ó the grey-haired man said, still feeling the
scrap of fabric that hugged my hips.
ÒMaster will be displeased,Ó Katharina said. She said it not angrily,
but with a calm satisfaction that frightened me.
ÒOh, God!Ó my aunt cried. She rolled onto her belly again and thrust
her hands between her legs. She rucked up her skirt and began frigging her
slit.
ÒAuntie!Ó I cried.
ÒRebecca!Ó Katharina said. She came into my cell and got the ring of
keys from the man who was feeling my panties. She went back into the
hall and unlocked my auntÕs cell. She stepped inside. My aunt was lying on
her bed with her skirt just covering the swell of her bottom. Underneath
her fingers worked furiously, her dress shoved up to allow her to
masturbate. Katharina plucked at my auntÕs skirt with her hand and lifted
the back of it up, exposing her bottom. It was bare. My aunt wore no
panties.
ÒBad girl!Ó Katharina said. She slapped my auntÕs bottom with her
hand.
ÒOwww!Ó my aunt cried. But she kept frigging herself, and Katharina
had to slap her ass a half dozen times before my aunt finally ceased.
KatharinaÕs hand print showed red and hot on my auntÕs bottom.
ÒYou will both need a lot of discipline in order to become well-
behaved prisoners,Ó the grey haired man said to me. He let go of my
panties. They snapped back against my cunt and a slight movement from
me caused them to slip again between my nether lips. ÒFortunately we are
well equipped to provide what you need,Ó the man told me. He turned to
the cook. ÒSee that she eats all her bread, and drinks all her water,Ó he
said. ÒIf she behaves, she may have some fruit afterward.Ó
ÒYes, sir,Ó the cook answered.
ÒRebecca! Sit up and eat your dinner,Ó Katharina said.
ÒOh, it is only bread. OW!Ó my aunt shouted, sitting up and feeling
the sting as her spanked bottom pressed to the sheet of her bed.
ÒYou will receive plenty of protein, donÕt worry,Ó Katharina said.
ÒThere are a lot of men here.Ó
The grey haired man left me. He walked out into the hall and, after
gazing for a moment at Rebecca, rounded the hallÕs corner and left. The
fat woman urged me again to eat and then went into the hall and checked
the lamps, to see that they had enough oil. I picked up a slice of bread off
the plate lying on my bed. I dipped it into the butter. It was warm and
soft. The butter clung to a corner of my slice of bread and I lifted it to my
lips and bit it off. I chewed. The bread tasted rich, nutritious. Across
from me, in the next cell, separated from me by a wall of steel bars, my
aunt sampled her bread.
ÒHow is it?Ó the cook asked my aunt, from the hall. Chewing
prospectively, my aunt replied, ÒIt is delicious.Ó
ÒSee? You are well cared for, despite being a prisoner,Ó Katharina
told her. ÒAfter you have finished eating, and fixed your makeup, and used
your chamber pot, we shall greet the men. They are assembling in the
main room, the room that you first entered. They are eager to meet their
new prisoners.Ó
ÒOh! Must we be kept like this-- in cells?Ó my aunt asked, her voice
rising to a wail.
Katharina brushed a strand of hair out of my auntÕs eyes, and said,
ÒOf course, darling. CanÕt you appreciate the work that has gone into
making you a captive? Your master, who you will meet soon, had to repair
this property and put it in good order in order to be able to receive
prisoners. Every care has been taken to ensure that you are well kept and
provided for. And your privacy is assured too, within these walls, except
of course to the men whom you will meet. Even they have been screened--
you will not be turned over to anyone who would harm you.Ó
ÒMy bottom hurts,Ó my aunt pouted. Then she bit into her bread
again, and chewed. Katharina lifted the butter bowl up so that she could
dip her bread in the butter if she wished.
ÒOf course you will experience both pain and pleasure,Ó Katharina
told her. ÒYou are young and healthy. You can bear it. And I will always be
present to serve your needs, unless a man requires me. Really, darling.
You should not complain. Enjoy your bread and savor your captivity. For a
week you will have no worries.Ó
ÒOh, but if we are whipped?Ó my aunt asked. She cast a glance at
the whip lying on her bed, and the strap and paddle, the gag, the blindfold.
ÒYes, there must be discipline,Ó Katharina said. ÒBut discipline is
good, is it not? Your niece-- does she not require discipline? Do you not
scold her sometimes?Ó
ÒOnly-- only if she is naughty,Ó my aunt said. She looked at the
silver bowl that Katharina was holding, with the butter in it. Tentatively
my aunt dipped her half-eaten slice of bread in the butter.
ÒHere you will find there are many opportunities to be naughty,Ó
Katharina said. ÒIndeed, you may glory in naughtiness if you wish. It is
the perfect place for a girl to be a pampered, spoiled brat.Ó
ÒI do not wish to be a brat,Ó my aunt said. She brushed back a strand
of hair, which had again fallen into her eyes. She bit at the slice of
buttered bread. She chewed.
ÒOh, you have already been one, IÕm afraid,Ó Katharina said. ÒPlaying
with yourself on the bed-- getting your skirt wet. How naughty you were!Ó
She kissed my auntÕs cheek. It was swollen with bread. My aunt,
surprised, still chewing, drew back her face. ÒYou will do well here,Ó
Katharina assured her. ÒBoth you and your little niece. You will both be
perfect prisoners by weekÕs end, eager to serve and quite willing, if it is
needed, to be punished.Ó She caressed one of my auntÕs bare breasts, and
placed her finger on the breastÕs nipple, her own breasts hanging freely
out of her pink sweater. ÒI too found it disagreeable at first,Ó Katharina
told my aunt. ÒBut I learned to accept it and grow with it. And when my
week was over, I found I was liking it so much that I asked to stay.Ó
My aunt and I finished our meal. When we were done, fruit was
brought. We feasted on ripe strawberries, dipping them in cream that was
provided for us. When Katharina turned her back I reached down and tugged
at my panties. I slipped a finger within the too-thin gusset, nudging it
aside, and found my spot. I diddled myself. At the same time I ate my
strawberries. Rebecca saw me teasing myself but said nothing. Her own
hand tugged at the hem of her dress. She touched her bosoms. Her nipples
were erect, showing their stiff tips without embarrassment.
After we had eaten our strawberries, Katharina told us to relieve
ourselves.
ÒOh. But where is the bathroom?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒYou have already been told where it is,Ó Katharina answered. She
pointed to the chamber pot that sat in the corner of my auntÕs cell.
ÒOh! I cannot!Ó my aunt wailed. Abjectly she looked at the pot.
ÒThere is no plumbing here, darling,Ó Katharina said. ÒWe must all
use chamber pots. Use yours now, so that you will not have to ask to use
it later.Ó She turned and nodded to the cook. ÒI shall go see if the men are
gathered yet,Ó Katharina said.
The cook supervised us. My aunt and I each squatted over our pot.
We pissed. We looked at each other as we pissed. When we were finished,
we wiped ourselves with kleenex that had been provided. Then the cook
took our pots out to be emptied and rinsed.
ÒNow fix your makeup, and then we shall meet the men,Ó Katharina
said.
I found the makeup kit under my bed. I powdered my cheeks and re-
lined my eyebrows. I daubed a tissue to my lips, dipping it into the glass
of water first. Earlier IÕd swallowed the pill theyÕd given me. No words
were needed to explain its purpose. Rebecca had even called over to me to
make sure IÕd swallowed it.
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I answered.
ÒGood,Ó she said, softly. ÒWhen you return to your parents IÕm sure
they donÕt want you bringing anyone along.Ó
Katharina let us out of our cells. She smiled at us and took us both
by our arms. She walked us down the hall. The oil lamps glowed. Our
heels clicked on the stone floor. We went into the main room. A fire was
burning there, in the brick fireplace. Thick logs laid on the hearth
crackled as the fire slowly consumed them.
A half dozen men were seated around the fire. They stared into it,
sipping drinks. A girl was serving them. She wore a tight corset. It bound
her middle but left her bosoms free, pushing them up so that they were
displayed to maximum advantage. Her behind was bare, and the
constriction of the corset caused her heart-shaped bottom to offer itself
more completely as she bent over to refill the menÕs glasses with liquor.
Her legs were bare down to the knees, where black boots clung to her
lower legs, covering her down to her toes in tight, polished leather. She
wore black gloves, opera length, that rose up above her elbows, where neat
bows tied them to her upper arms, so they would not slip down. There was
a dog collar around her throat. Her hair was concealed beneath a powdered
white wig that consisted of an abundance of delicate curls. On the girlÕs
bare bottom I saw the fading marks of a whipping. Red lines, burned into
her flesh. They sent shivers up my spine.
ÒMore port,Ó a man called to the girl. He lifted his glass. She
hurried over to him and did not flinch as he freely fondled her bosoms. Her
nipples were stiff; apparently she enjoyed the attention.
ÒHere are the new prisoners, sir,Ó Katharina said. She spoke to a
black haired man sitting in the middle of the ring of men clustered about
the fire. He had a beard, and wore a fine suit, as the other men did. He
looked up. His eyes engaged me directly. I flinched.
ÒGood evening, Chloe,Ó he said. He set his drink on a small table next
to his chair. He rose. The other men rose with him. They gathered around
myself and my aunt, whom Katharina had guided inbetween the circle of
chairs. The girl in the corset placed drinks in our hands. Blushing,
secretly wet with ourselves between our legs, we greeted the men. They
told us their names but I sensed that the names they introduced
themselves by were invented. We nodded politely. A man asked me where
I went to school and I told him the name of my school.
ÒIt is a fine private school,Ó he said. ÒA fine junior high. My
daughter went there. SheÕs in high school now.Ó
ÒOh,Ó I said.
After several minutes of small talk the man with the black beard
took my aunt by the wrist. None of the men had touched us up to that
moment and my aunt, who had begun to relax, stiffened.
ÒNow we must discuss the terms of your confinement,Ó the man, who
was named Mr. Johanson, said.
ÒYou are--?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒYes, I will be your warden,Ó Mr. Johanson said. ÒYou will find that,
as my prisoners, you are indulged with a great deal of physical pleasure.
Of course, it will also be blended with pain. You cannot have one without
the other, in my opinion. What I want you to do is to concentrate on the
pleasure, on the manner in which I indulge you, and to bear, as best you
can, the discipline which I find it necessary to impose. Do you
understand?Ó
ÒI-- Chloe is only--Ó my aunt stammered.
ÒI know how old your niece is,Ó Mr. Johanson told her. ÒI also know
her panties are wet with her desire, and she can hardly help fingering
herself. And you, also, I have heard reports of masturbation about. I am
going to ask you both to bathe now. You have both had a long ride and you
have been excited by your experiences today. Then, after your bath, you
will be brought back here again, and you will enjoy a tea party with
myself and my friends. We will have liquor, of course, but you and your
niece, who is only 13, will have tea. You may spike it if you like.Ó He
looked at my aunt. ÒDid you think you were to be treated harshly?Ó he
asked. ÒI am not a wicked man, Rebecca. I believe in pampering a girl as
much as I believe in being stern.Ó
We were taken away. Katharina led us down another hall to a
bathroom, where the cook had already filled a claw-footed bathtub with
hot water. We got in and bathed. My aunt and I savored the closeness of
our bodies in the warm tub. I scrubbed her back and she scrubbed mine.
When we were finished we got out and Katharina and the cook insisted on
rubbing us down with towels. Then we were given white bathrobes, with
hoods. They were warm and fuzzy. We were not offered panties but we
were permitted socks, which we slipped on to keep our feet from getting
cold. Then, our hair still moist, hanging free inside our pulled-up hoods,
our bathrobes clutched tight, we walked in our sock feet back down the
hall to the main room. The men were still sitting there, drinking. There
were several large bearskin rugs piled on the floor in front of the
fireplace. Katharina told us to lie down.
ÒStretch out,Ó Katharina said. ÒMake yourselves comfortable.
Gretchen will get your tea.Ó She gestured to the girl in the corset, who
was submissively tending the menÕs need for liquor. Before we lay down
on the rugs Katharina insisted on taking off our bathrobes. We lay down
like newborns on the rugs, naked except for the fuzzy white socks on our
feet.
We were served tea. It was served to us in delicate tea cups. I lay
sideways before the fire. It warmed my whole body, and its warmth upon
my upturned bottom was erotic. The fuzz of the bearskin tickled me
between my legs. I kept them open, as was required. I sipped my tea with
my lips formed into a pretty O. As I shifted on the rug underneath me I
felt my pussy wettening. I wondered if Mr. Johanson would get upset if I
stained his expensive rug.
Katharina was also served tea but she sat in a chair behind us. Once
when I looked back I saw her opening a drawer in a table that sat next to
her chair. She was taking things out of it and setting them on the tableÕs
surface: a phial of oil, a pot of cream, a tube of lubricant. The next time I
turned my head and looked back at her I saw she had slipped on a pair of
latex gloves. There was a whip lying across her knees. On the table there
now stood a long, large, thickly-veined penis. It looked like it was made
of ivory. There was also a roll of toilet tissue.
ÒAre you enjoying your tea, Chloe?Ó Katharina asked me.
ÒWhat are you doing?Ó I said, balancing my tea cup in my fingers.
ÒYouÕve never been incarcerated before, have you?Ó Katharina asked.
At this my aunt turned around. Looking back over her shoulder, she let out
a small yelp. Katharina smiled. ÒA prisoner must always be given a rectal
exam when she is first brought to the prison,Ó Katharina said.
ÒOh!Ó my aunt gasped.
ÒThen you must both be tested,Ó Katharina said. ÒI have a good-sized
dildo here, made from an elephant tusk. I must use it to check your size,
your receptivity. I must see if you both can take it properly up your
bottom.Ó
ÒOh my God!Ó I said, my voice bursting from me. Quickly I glanced at
Mr. Johanson but, finding him impassive, I turned my pleading eyes to the
man whose daughter had gone to my school.
ÒDonÕt be so disconsolate!Ó Katharina laughed. ÒWe have all night. I
do not expect you to be easy, either of you,Ó she said. ÒWe will do it
slowly. And first I will warm you both to it, with a good whipping.Ó
ÒWould you like to be bitted and cuffed?Ó the man whose daughter
had gone to my school asked me. His voice was matter-of-fact, with a
touch of sympathy.
ÒOh! CanÕt you just let us go? IÕm sleepy!Ó I cried.
ÒYou look quite awake to me,Ó Mr. Johanson laughed. He looked at the
man with the daughter. ÒGo out with Daniels and fetch the post. They will
need it, I think.Ó
The man with the daughter got up out of his chair. As my aunt and I
watched, squirming on the bearskin with trepidation, they went outside,
and returned a moment later with a short post which was so heavy that,
together, they could barely carry it. Grunting, they set it down on the
floor in front of myself and my aunt. Meanwhile, Gretchen had gotten
handcuffs from Katharina. She took away our teacups and fitted our hands
into the cuffs. Then the two men, picking up a coil of chain that lay behind
the fire set, returned to my aunt and I and used the chain to bind our
wrists to the post. At last Gretchen, when the men had gotten out of the
way, bitted us. The bits were long thick lengths of rubber, tube-like in
shape, that fitted into our mouths, sideways like the bits horses are
forced to wear. When we had accepted the bits Gretchen tied them off
with attached cords at the backs of our heads.
ÒNow they are ready,Ó Mr. Johanson said. He laughed. He looked at us
lying there on the rug in front of him and his eyes were merry. He took a
drink from a bottle of liquor and then looked at Katharina. ÒLay it on
well,Ó he told her. ÒDo not spare them. They will have a week to heal and
I want to see them well-wealed during their stay here.Ó
ÒNo!Ó I shouted, but my voice was completely muffled by the gag
braced in my teeth. Beside me my aunt tried to rise, but the chain held her
hands securely. There was only a short length of chain running between
her shackled wrists and the post. She looked at me. I looked at her. There
were tears in my eyes. She tried to speak but her gag prevented it.
Katharina stood and hovered over us both, her whip upraised and ready.
I heard a sharp, brief whistling sound, as of fabric tearing. Suddenly
my aunt, lying on her belly beside me, let out a muffled howl. Her legs
splayed wider and then contracted. Her back tensed and her bottom, after
trying to withdraw into itself, which was quite impossible, suddenly
bounded outward. I got the impression of a seal flopping about beside me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my own ass cheeks tense.
The whip snapped again. Once more I heard my aunt moan. A pause
intervened and then the whip came down again. Yet as I lay there, with my
bottomcheeks huddling, still keeping my legs apart, I suddenly realized
that the whip had yet to strike me. Katharina must have known what I was
thinking for she said, ÒWhat, Chloe? Did you expect me to strike each of
you in turn? No, no, dear. You must wait for it. Squirm on the carpet
while I tickle up your auntÕs fanny. YouÕre next. But you may have to wait
awhile. I may need a break after I finish with your auntÕs bottom. You
donÕt mind lying there, bare-bottomed, like a baby, waiting for your
spanking, do you?Ó She laughed. ÒKeep your legs apart, dear, as youÕve
been ordered. Does your pussy feel good lying against that ticklish
bearskin? How those little bits of fur tease, hmmm? If only they were
longer, and thicker! See how your aunt, inspired by the whip, grinds
herself against the carpet, hoping to find satisfaction! How futile it is!
How fruitless! And yet, how exciting it remains, for the small bits of fuzz
do tickle so sweetly, do they not?Ó
Gasping, I looked up at the men. Beside me the whip fell again, on
my aunt, making her bottom bounce and writhe. The men gazed down at me
with paternalistic eyes. One lit a pipe. Another called the corseted girl
to refill his drink. They enjoyed the sight of me lying on the carpet. Did I
enjoy it too? I felt my bosoms, like melons, pressing their nipples with
febrile excitement into the rug. I felt my belly, bare and flat, lying on the
rug, the fuzz that was tickling my nipples and slit also poking softly into
my navel. I felt my pussy hair meshing against the carpet beneath me and
slowly making itself wet, moisture transposing itself onto the rug.
I writhed upon the bearskin. My long hair cascaded over my slim
childÕs back. I wished my hair were longer, for it only covered my back
down to the mid-point. Below that my waist lay bare and, beyond it, the
hump of my bottom rose, soft and white, split down the middle by my
buttcrease.
ÒLegs apart, Chloe,Ó the man with the grey hair and mustache
admonished me. ÒBefore your stay is finished you will lie here in the
morning, your bit tied into your mouth by your own hands. You will kneel,
your face pressed into the carpet but your bottom upraised, waiting for
someone to come and lock your hands. Your arms will already be stretched
out in front of you. No one will have forced you to lie that way. You will
have chosen to do it yourself, in the early morning, bribing a guard to let
you out of your cell so that you can come here and wait for one of us men
to show up for our morning smoke.Ó He laughed. ÒYes, Chloe, I have seen it
happen to other girls. They begin their stay here like you, nervous and
afraid, but by the end of it they enjoy their captivity. All the cares of the
world are banished here, for a girl. She may become what she truly is, a
cunt, a pair of tits, a bottom, totally absorbed in herself and her
sexuality.Ó
The man with the black beard reached into his coat pocket. He drew
out a small round disc. It was made of metal. He held it up so that the
light from the fire caught it and made it glint.
ÒLook, Chloe,Ó the man with the black beard said. ÒDo you know what
this is? It is a brand. It can be fastened to the end of a branding iron to
mark cattle, or anything else I choose to see marked with it. Do you know
what I use it on here, Chloe, in this place? How frightened you look! How
worried the look in your auntÕs eyes. Do you think I mark girls against
their will? How cruel that would be, eh Chloe? But the truth of the
matter is perhaps scarier for you. I do mark girls. But at their request. It
only takes a week, here in this place, for them to wish to be mine always.
Yes, Chloe. The girls request it themselves. To show to their friends-- a
symbol of the time they were once thoroughly spoiled and pampered,
waited on hand and foot, and, made to enjoy the fullness of their sexual
nature. You are a slut, Chloe. Admit it. You would love nothing more than
to be sexually subjugated for the rest of your life, treated as a captive
goddess, adored and admired, and fucked, too, fucked hard and long,
forever, by men whom you desire. Has my servant told you about the young
man I keep on the premises? The swimmer? How would you like him to
administer the brand, Chloe? In the nude? With his dick hard and erect as
he presses the long branding iron into your bottom?Ó
30
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