Message-ID: <1127eli$9706022252@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Andrew Roller Subject: Sins of the Flesh part 3 of 5 (NND) --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in SINS OF THE FLESH _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Three Elaine and Jackie huddled together kissing. The dildo lay up on the nightstand. The small crotch belt that allowed the dildo to be worn by a female looked sensuous and delicate, in contrast to the big rubber prong attached to it. A mere sliver of elasticized cloth ran between the legs and stimulated the clitoris while the phallus was being used on a friend. Around the waist the cloth was wider, about the width of a man’s belt. It supported the large ersatz penis against the belly. Now the dildo itself was slathered with bottomoil and vaseline, the belt dishevelled, stained with pussy juice. Earlier in the night all had been clean, neat, new and ready for use. Now it was despoiled. But the labor had been worth the effort, including the work that would go into cleaning up the dildo and putting it away, for Jackie had finally gotten her cherry popped. Her backdoor cherry, that men had striven to break into but had been unable to. They had been men, using real penises, lusty to see them spend. Elaine was female. She could enjoy the dildo within her legs, even cum on it, while still diligently, laboriously entering and (at last) shafting Jackie. On the nightstand behind the used dildo stood a vase with fresh daisies in them, picked from beside the pool as the girls came up the stairs yesterday. The crystal vase which stood tall, holding the daisies in its grasp, looked pure and virginal. Beside it sat a favorite teddy bear from Jackie’s childhood. She’d brought it over to Elaine’s to keep her company on a previous visit, left it, and now it felt, perhaps, rather forgotten, as Elaine and Jackie cuddled, Elaine with her nipples newly pierced and Jackie with her bottomhole newly opened. “Oooh, it hurt me pretty badly,” Jackie whined. Elaine was lying between her legs, on top of her, kissing her belly. “Of course. It always does the first time,” Elaine replied. “You’ll get used to it. I love your belly button.” Wetly Elaine kissed her friend’s navel. “Oh, don’t try to fuck that too!” Jackie whimpered. Wickedly Elaine delved her tongue into it. “I might,” she teased. “That dildo was too big for me and you pushed it too far up!” Jackie said. She looked over at the big instrument that had deflowered her. “It has to be big, it’s a pretend man’s penis!” Elaine said. “Quit being so silly.” “Why do men need to fuck us?” Jackie asked. Contemplating the dildo, she absently stuck a finger in her mouth, began sucking it. “I don’t know. They have horrid big penises and are desperate to stick them in things, most of all us. And we have hungry little holes. Plus our hands, our mouths, you name it! We’re walking advertisements for men with big things looking for holes to stick themselves in,” Elaine answered. “Yes,” Jackie agreed. Elaine slapped Jackie’s stomach. “Oooch,” Jackie said. Elaine looked up at the windows of the room. Daylight was filtering through. “It must be ten o’clock already. We’re lucky it’s Sunday. We’d have missed work!” Elaine said. “I have to go pee,” Jackie said. “Me too,” Elaine replied. She got up from her friend with a toss of her long, golden hair, feeling liquid in her movements, special, loved. She waited for Jackie to push herself upright and then she took her friend’s hand. “Ouch it hurts sitting up,” Jackie complained. “Your bottom will feel better after awhile,” Elaine said. She kissed her friend on the mouth. “Happy first day of not being a virgin!” “Anywhere....” Jackie said. She reached back behind herself and nudged a finger into her bottomcrack. “Ooch,” she said. “Well, I was a virgin for 15 years total, counting everything, so I guess that’s pretty good for a country with lots of men and child molesters running around in it.” She shook back her long auburn hair from her eyes. “Yes, if it wasn’t for those wicked men, we’d still be total virgins, and I wouldn’t have to of helped you lose your anal cherry,” Elaine agreed. Jackie put a hand to her pussy. “It’s also men’s fault that I have to go to the bathroom,” she said. Together, holding hands, they walked into the bathroom. Elaine let Jackie go first. The girl sat and, still holding her friend’s hand, for her bottom hurt, she peed lustily into the toilet. “Mmmm, that feels much better!” Jackie announced. She rubbed her dell briskly with her hand. “Did you ever pee with a friend?” Elaine asked. “I’m doing that right now,” Jackie replied. “No, silly.” Elaine laughed. She tossed her head to push her hair back away from her face. It was a sweeping, sensual motion, sending her long mane back (at least temporarily) behind her small shoulders. She sat down on Jackie’s thighs, facing the girl. “Ooof! What are you doing?” Jackie asked. She was smaller and four years younger than her friend. “I’m going to pee. And we’re going to kiss while I’m doing it. Too bad you went already,” Elaine told her. “I feel a little more in me,” Jackie said. “Wait!” Elaine announced. “I could hold off a few minutes.” She leapt up from her friend, ran across to the bathroom counter. Quickly she filled a glass with water and came trotting back. “Here, drink this,” she said, handing the glass to Jackie. “And I’ll get more if you finish that. Drink as much as you can and then we’ll both pee together. It’ll be fun!” Sitting on the toilet, quite nude, her lovely round thighs perched on a fuzzy seat, with her bottom bulbing down into the opening in the seat’s hole, Jackie sipped the water. She smiled at Elaine. She drank more, drank again, and finally the glass was empty. Lifting her arm, she wiped it across her mouth. “You have good water at this place,” Jackie said. “That’s so I can have nice clean pee,” Elaine said. “If you drink lots of clean, high-quality water, and pee a lot, you’ll be very healthy.” “I wish the pool guy was here to pee with us,” Jackie said. She waited while Elaine refilled the glass for her. Elaine got more water, then returned to her friend. Her breasts bounced as she walked, holding aloft the glass. Her hips flared out from her slim, flat belly, her pubis grew in soft inviting curls between her legs. She was sensual in her movements, and happy. Her eyes sparkled. At a younger age she might have felt guilty peeing with a girlfriend but now, with her breasts sporting gold rings, her pussy well-opened by men, she felt no guilt in sharing a private moment with another girl. They had served the men in the cabin with every ounce of their bodies, satisfied their every demand. They both still had chafed wrists from the ropes to prove their loyalty to men. Now they could be intimate just as females, safe from men and their lust. They could be happy together, or sad, they could hold a party and both cry if they wanted to. Elaine sat down on her friends thighs, hopefully gazing at her, handing her the glass and waiting while she drank it down. When the glass was about half empty Jackie paused to take a breath. Her eyes were drawn to Elaine’s pierced nipples. Tentatively she extended a finger to one. “Oooooooh,” Elaine said in a trembly, breathy voice. “Do these hurt?” Jackie asked curiously. Eliane watched as the girl flipped at the ring thrust through her nipple. “Yes, they’re quite sore right now, or tender, or something, I’m not sure. Don’t touch them!” Elaine begged. But little Jackie was full of curiousity and she flipped first one ring in one nipple and then worried over the other and Elaine, though she had begged not to be touched, let her. She took hold of the cheeks of her ass with her hands, quietly, her own ass, and gripped it hard while letting Jackie explore her. “I like them. But they are a little scary,” Jackie confessed. “You should talk,” Elaine said. “Do you think they make my nipples look better or worse?” “Hmmmm,” Jackie said. She took another drink of water. “Not better or worse, but different. Mine look free but yours, even though they’re nude, look captured. Enslaved.” Jackie’s eyes twinkled. “Have you ever dreamed of being a slave? A real slave? Not a slave working in cotton fields, or building the Pyramid,” (she laughed, thinking of what a Pyramid vaguely resembled) “but, you know, a slave like in the storybooks. An enslaved princess.” “Yes,” Elaine confessed. And suddenly Jackie had to pee quite badly, and both girls, embracing, rubbed their bellies together and peed out their water. The dual piss they made sounded like rain. Jackie dropped the glass and it broke across the tiled floor of the bathroom but neither girl noticed for at least 15 minutes, for after they’d peed they sat wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing, and then they wedged hands into each other’s dells and they rubbed each other quite merrily. Elaine emerged from the shower. She was tall and blonde and she dried her hair with a soft, serious look on her face. Jackie sat at her kitchen table completely nude, save for a big pink towel wrapped like a turban around her head. Her feet didn’t quite touch the floor, just her toes, and she was playing with a make up kit, painting her nails and putting on lipstick and eyeshadow. Elaine shook out her long hair. She didn’t bother to wrap the bathtowel around it. Instead she went back to the bathroom, got a hairdrier, one that was battery operated, and sat down at the kitchen table across from her friend. She was calm, composed, mature. Jackie figeted in her chair, across from her, impatient to be doing something fun but not knowing what to do, so instead fiddling with her nails. “What if a man came up to you and asked you if you wanted to be a slave, a real slave?” Elaine asked Jackie. “I’d tell him to go piss in his pants,” Jackie answered. “I’d have to love a man very much to be his slave.” “But what, what if he was very handsome, and you thought he was wealthy, and as you sat looking at him he came over to you, invited himself to sit down at your table, in a restaurant, and then very bluntly and very frankly he told you how beautiful you were and how he wanted to make you his slave.” Jackie shivered. She kept painting her nails. “Did that happen to you?” Jackie asked. “Yes,” Eliane answered. “And he told me that he would do amazing things to me but, to show I was completely in agreement, I had to find someone to pierce my nipples first, so that I would know what pain was like and was able to handle it and accept it.” Jackie’s eyes darted up from her nails. “That’s so... scary!” She said. Her eyes were like saucers. Then she added, “If you go, take me along. I’ll protect you.” “You have to get your nipples pierced first,” Elaine said. “I’m not doing that,” Jackie answered. She returned to her nails. She was laquering them with a deep red color. “I need to grow my nails more,” she said. She examined her hand. “Listen to me!” Elaine said. She reached across the table and grabbed the girl’s hands by her wrists, so as not to smudge the nail polish. “I’ve got to decide. I don’t know what to do. The guy is gorgeous, not ordinary gorgeous but really, really gorgeous. Should I or shouldn’t I?” Jackie, her chafed wrists imprisoned in her friends hands, considered. She scrunched up her nose, looked above her friend’s head. “Hmmm, you get to be a princess, right?” she asked. “Well, he SAID he’d treat me LIKE a princess,” Elaine replied. “If you take me along can I be like, an assistant princess, or a junior princess?” Jackie asked. “Why do you keep making this about you?” Elaine said. “I’m trying to ask you a very serious question. I mean, I got my nipples pierced for him, I guess I got them pierced for him, I think I did, or anyway they got pierced anyhow. But should I go?” “You have to go to the bathroom again?” Jackie asked. She let out a high, gleeful childish laugh. “You’re an idiot,” Elaine sniffed. She dropped her friends hands and placed her own in her lap. First she tried to wrap them around her breasts but when she realized they’d press against her nipples, she thrust them to her lap instead, in deference to her tenderness at being newly pierced. “I’m not the one who got my nipples pierced,” Jackie said. She looked down at her own unpierced nipples. They stood out from her breasts perky and free of any device. “Well, I’m going,” Elaine said. “You’ll have to stay in your own apartment from now on. I’m tired of modelling. I want to be... different,” Elaine said. Her eyes took on a dreamy appearance and she seemed to be placing herself in another world. “I’m coming to. As your Protector,” Jackie said. She put more red paint on her nails. “You can’t be my protector. If anyone is, HE is,” Elaine told her friend. “I’ll have to rely on him completely. I’m sure there’ll be no one I can call, no one I can turn to for help. He’ll be totally in control of me and I’ll have to do whatever he says, and hope he finds it pleasing.” “How long will he keep you?” Jackie asked. She looked up from her nails. “He said that depends,” Elaine answered. Now it was she who looked down at her nails and contemplated them. They were long, not short like Jackie’s. They were painted the color of glossy pink pearls. “He promises to treat me well, but says, within certain parameters, I’m always free to leave.” “Will he buy you presents?” Jackie asked. “Of course. I’m sure he will,” Elaine answered. She looked at her friend. “But it’s not about presents, silly. Presents are something a guy brings to a girl to remember him when she’s by herself and thinking of whatever she pleases, perhaps other men. In this instance it will be me, and him, and there presents won’t matter much, because I’ll be his slave. He’ll already own me. I’m sure he’ll treat me very well but I’m the one who is giving the presents, pleasing him, except the only present I’m giving is me, all of me....” her voice trailed away. Jackie shivered again. “Take me too,” she whispered. Her voice was serious. She gazed at her friend with big eyes. “Do you think he’ll make us pee together if I bring you along?” Elaine asked her. Jackie giggled. “I don’t know,” Jackie said. “I bet he might.” “We’re wicked,” Elaine said. “No, just naughty. In need of a spanking,” Jackie said. “Yes,” Elaine agreed. “We both need a spanking.” “Too bad the pool guy isn’t here,” Jackie said. On a hilltop outside of town the cab let both girls out. Elaine and Jackie looked at each other. A view of the city stretched out below. In the distance, the sun was setting, a giant red orb dipping slowly into the sea. Deciduous trees blanketed the lower parts of the hill, the treetops just sticking up, striving to block the girl’s view of the city but only making for a canopy of pointed, leafy peaks. The city remained unobstructed. Lights glimmered on in buildings as the sun sank lower. A cool breeze rose, whisked a leaf down the street past the girl’s feet. “Beautiful view,” Jackie said, quietly, holding Elaine’s hand. “I don’t think we’ll be getting to see much of the view,” Jackie whispered. Both girls felt like frightened deer waiting for the start of hunting season. “We must go inside,” Elaine said, turning, drawing Jackie’s with her by tugging on her hand. “I want to go home,” Jackie said. “We’re here now, silly,” Elaine scolded. The wind lifted her skirt. She had to slap her hand down to her thighs to keep it from showing her panties. The road was empty but, looking up at the windows in the old castle sitting on the hill, she knew someone must be watching. The old stone structure was a monument to some long-dead executive’s ego. He’d made money as CEO of something, built himself a small castle to celebrate himself, and then promptly died of a heart attack. The heirs had seen little use for an oversized sink for property taxes, and sold it. Now the man who’d invited Elaine to be a princess for awhile owned the place. It was a clever ruse, girls liked being princesses. “It’s scary but it’s pretty too,” Jackie admitted. She squeezed Elaine’s hand. “Come on, it’s getting chilly. We have to get inside,” Elaine told her. “Maybe I can use the phone to call a cab to take me home,” Jackie suggested. “Not after you see him,” Elaine smiled. “He is very much a dreamboat. You’ll do anything he wants, I guarantee you.” “OOOOH!” Jackie gave an involuntary shiver. “Can I have him too on the days when you’re not busy being a princess?” “Shhhh,” Elaine put a finger to the girl’s lips. “I’m going to knock on the door and I want you to be very polite and quiet, okay?” “Okay,” Jackie whispered. The girls stepped between two big stone lions reclined at the bottom of a flight of stone steps. Jackie gave the lions a frightened glance, admiring their power, their majesty, the folds of their fur and their muscles. Each lion had his mouth open, and displayed jagged stone teeth. “Are those lions sleepy and yawning, or hungry and hoping for a bite to eat?” Jackie asked her friend, pointing. “Shhh, or I’ll take a bite out of your bottom,” Elaine answered. “Be good. You can’t protect me if you’re scared and talking a lot.” “Okay,” Jackie agreed again. Both girls mounted the steps, holding hands, their bottoms giving extra wiggles as they walked because they couldn’t help being worried at what they were getting themselves into. Yet the castle door drew them like a magnet; big, imposing, hard old wood with a large iron knocker suspended from the mouth of a wolf. “He looks hungry too,” Jackie observed on the top step, looking up at the wolf. “Shhh! I told you!” Elaine scolded. “You already look too young to be here. Don’t point at all the lions and wolves and stuff and make dumb remarks.” “Well, I’m still kinda little,” Jackie said. She looked down at her bosoms. “I mean my tits are big and everything, but inside I still feel small and vulnerable.” She liked that word. She’d learned it last year from a teacher who taught her about evil men and strangers and feminism and what it means to be a female in the world. ‘vulnerable.’ Yes. She certainly felt that, standing on stone steps guarded by two hungry stone lions with a wolf peering down at her from the door. CLACK CLACK CLACK Elaine knocked the iron knocker against the door. The girls waited. The wind gusted down the street, hustling leaves ahead of it. The girl’s long hair, held by barrettes, fluttered. “I have to go to the bathroom,” Jackie confided. “What?” Elaine asked. Jackie put a hand to the front of her leather miniskirt. “Well, all this scary stuff makes me want to pee!” she said. Suddenly the door flew open. Jackie was still standing with her hand pressed between her legs, talking to Elaine, when both girls suddenly realized they were in front of a door that had been opened and someone was standing there. They looked up. “Ah, two young, healthy females,” a female voice said. She was a statuesque woman, not unlike Joyce, but she had brown hair, like Jackie’s, except darker, and lines were just beginning to show on her face. “Come in, dears,” she invited. She induced the girls to enter and, when they were inside, she gently closed the front door. The girls found themselves in a large stone entryway. A chandelier of modest porportions hung above their heads. Its cut glass cast a scattering of light all throughout the foyer. “I trust you’ve both had your nipples pierced?” the woman asked Elaine and Jackie. “She hasn’t,” Elaine replied. Jackie gulped. The woman wore a vest with a thin velour sweater and twin rings could be seen topping the two slopes of her breasts, pressing out against the fabric of the sweater. When Elaine told the woman of Jackie’s condition the woman’s breasts sprouted hard nipples. They grew erectly into the sweater, in a matter of seconds, until they cast the sweater farther out than the rings themselves did. “I see,” the woman said. “Perhaps you would both be so kind as to remove your blouses and let me see how you look.” “Right here?” Jackie asked. She remembered undressing in front of Joyce, but then men had been present, exciting her, urging her on with her eyes. Here she was simply alone and it felt awkward, ‘vulnerable,’ to have to undress with your friend in front of some strange older woman. “Please,” the woman said. “I’ll have to turn you both out if you don’t.” Elaine swallowed, nudged her friend, and began unbuttoning her blouse. There was a glimmer of a smile on her lips. She at least was not going home. Jackie hesitated. “I don’t know if I should,” Jackie said. “It’s entirely up to you, my dear,” the woman said. She turned aside. Her hair was pinned up and she looked lovely. She wore a knee-length skirt that matched her vest that hung open and apart over her velour top. She had on high heels. She fiddled with a single fresh rose that stood all by itself in a glass vase on a maplewood table in the foyer, next to a plant with broad leaves that sat in a pot on the floor. A second plant sat across from it, hedging the girls in. The woman removed the rose from the vase. “I’ll give you this if you do,” she said. Jackie smiled. She felt a sudden warmth toward the woman. She’d played in the cabin at Joyce’s and she’d had sex with her boyfriend back home and she’d even (wicked though it seemed to her now, though at the time they’d both been randy)... she even let Elaine introduce her to anal sex. “Alright,” Jackie whispered. She undid the buttons of her blouse. “Just put it on that chair there,” the woman advised. Elaine was barebreasted upon removing her top. Her nipples were tender, newly pierced with rings. Jackie, however, wore a white lace bra. Elaine cast her blouse over the back of the chair indicated by the woman. Jackie followed, then looked at the woman expectantly. “Your bra too, dear,” the woman said gently to Jackie. “I must see your breasts. Your nipples,” she said. “Here, I’ll do it,” Elaine offered. She went behind Jackie. “She’s scared,” Elaine told the woman. The blonde reached for Jackie’s bra clasp and undid it. “Nooooo!” Jackie whined. But her bra was undone, and her boobs popped out. Her nipples were found to be upright, in a state of excitement. “Oh, very nice,” the woman said. She bent and cupped both Jackie’s bosoms in her hands. She brushed her thumbs over the pert little nipples. “These will be a delight to pierce,” she said. “I’m sure I can convince Master to let you stay here with them just as they are for now.” “Thanks,” Jackie replied. “Now,” the woman said, turning to Elaine. “Let me see yours. Freshly pierced, hmmm? Are they still tender?” She cupped the girl’s breasts. “Yes!” Elaine gasped. She watched as the woman hefted her breasts and then, as if handling the stems of precious hot house fruit, passed her fingers over the pierced, ring-laden nipples. “Who gave you the rings?” she asked. “They’re pure gold.” “The woman who pierced me,” Elaine said. “Will my nipples be okay?” “They’re fine, perfect! A beautiful pair,” the woman said. “She did a perfect job piercing them, whoever she was.” “Her name was Joyce,” Elaine said. “She did them in a log cabin,” Jackie added. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the chafe marks that were almost healed aross her wrists. “Well, yours will be done in a big stone castle,” the woman said to Jackie, still fondling Elaine’s tits. She looked over at her. Jackie gulped. “I like mine just as they are,” she said. She stuck her bosoms out proudly and looked down and admired them. “Of course, dear. We all do,” the woman said. She finished examining Elaine’s pair and stood up. She brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen down from her coiffure. She had pearls ringing her throat, like a collar, and her wrists, like bracelets. A gold pin with a ruby gleamed in her pinned-up hair. The girls stood before her just wearing their little dance club miniskirts. They were made of leather, with white school girl panties beneath, to tease men they met in the clubs, except tonight they’d be partying privately, in the castle. They were too young to need nylons. Their legs were bare. Their feet were shod with dark rubber-soled sneakers so they could dance wildly, if they wished, and still look sexy. The girls liked going out dancing. “I have to pee,” Jackie said to the woman. “You do?” the woman grinned. “I remember I had to do the same thing when I first came here. Master will be home soon. We’ll wait and see which bathroom he wants you girls to use. Come, let’s have tea. There’s no point in standing here in the foyer waiting for him.” She turned, beckoned both girls to follow. They went to the chair to collect their blouses. “Oh, leave those there!” the woman insisted. “Master will enjoy seeing them there when he gets home. You girls must learn to tease a little, hmmm? You both looked dressed for dancing. Do you like to dance?” “Of course,” Jackie replied. Resolutely she picked up her bra from the chair. “Then we’ll dance when Master gets home,” the woman answered. “He has his own place for dancing, upstairs, where you can see the whole city. It has big glass windows and a very cool sound system and you can both dance there all night, if you wish, and there won’t be any need for you to have tops on because anyone looking in would be quite far away indeed, barely able to see you.” The woman walked down a hall, her footsteps echoing on its stone floor. She did not look back to call the girls again. Instead she simply expected them to follow, like children, or puppies. Elaine batted Jackie’s hand. She made her put her bra back on the chair. “Come on, we’re going to dance and have fun!” she whispered. “See? I told you it would be cool.” “I’d still like to have my bra on,” Jackie mused. Elaine pinched her bottom beneath her skirt and took her hand. “Ouch!” Jackie exclaimed. “What did you do that for?” she asked. She blushed, knowing the woman down the hall must have heard her exclamation. “I did that because you’re being a slo poke and you’re going to make us miss out on dancing in a big beautiful place with a dreamy guy where we can see the whole city!” Elaine whispered in a low, serious voice. “Come on! You can be such a baby some time!” Together the girls hurried down the hall to catch the woman. Smiling, but still not looking back at them, she led them into a small parlor. The girls started, surprised looks on their faces, when they saw a maid waiting quietly beside the table. She was dressed in a perfect maid’s uniform, white glvoes, apron, high-necked collar on a starched blouse, stockings, shoes and a black dress. She kept her eyes lowered but, being fairly young, couldn’t help giving away with a smirk that she’d caught sight of the girls’ bare breasts. “This is Abigail,” the woman told Elaine and Joyce. “She’s paid to assist me. Would you both sit, please? There’s cushions on the chairs. We can talk about your piercing, Elaine, and how you felt about it. Abigail will pour tea. And bring crumpets too, girl. Our guests are here now. Don’t stand about wishing you had bosoms like they do. Abigail pouted and left the room. She walked with flouncing steps, golden curls bouncing from beneath her maid’s hat, down the back of her neck, bobbing about her shoulders. Her hair was pinned up but not excessively so, showing her youth and carefree nature despite her prim uniform. She had small, high-perched tits which, given she was in her late teens or early 20’s, would be with her at that size for the rest of her life. “Are her tits pierced too?” Jackie asked, sitting down. The woman helped her sit at the tea table and pushed her chair in for her. Then she did the same for Elaine. “No, only prize bosoms are pierced, at Master’s command,” the woman replied. “Nice big bosoms like you girls have. Plus Abigail, you must always remember, is a paid employee. She serves. You girls are guests, though Master, who knows, may buy you presents and things. She serves, you are served. You’re pierced, she remains unpierced.” “And me too!” Jackie piped up. “What? You wish to work and scrub floors and clean toilets?” the woman asked. She helped herself to a chair at the tea table, brushed her hair back from her eyes and sat down. She reached up, repinned her hair with the gold pin that held up her coiffure. “No, I mean my bosoms,” Jackie said. She reached up and frankly hefted her two breasts. Then she wiggled in her seat, for she still hadn’t been given permission to go to the bathroom. “You look like you’re giving yourself a breast exam,” Elaine laughed at Jackie. The girl squeezed her tits and felt them. “I like my boobs just like they are. And my nipples, and my bottom too, just in case anyone thinks I need a spanking,” Jackie said. She wiggled in her seat again. “Could I go use the bathroom now?” Abigail returned. The woman ignored Jackie, bade Abigail pour the tea. As Abigail leaned over to fill the woman’s cup, she remarked: “Take off your top, Abigail. The girls were inquiring about your breasts.” “May I, ma’am?” Abigail asked. Her eyes lit up. She clearly liked the thought of being able to display herself, perhaps to greet Master and seek his attention over the other girls when he arrived. “Yes, you may, dear. And I’ll take off my top too,” the woman said. She shed her vest as Abigail reached back behind herself and unzipped the back of her blouse. “If I can do it without mussing too much my coiffure,” the woman added. Carefully she lifted up her velour sweater. Elaine and Jackie watched. They exchanged smiles. “My zipper’s stuck!” Abigail complained. She couldn’t get the back of her blouse open. “Come here, I’ll do it,” the woman said with annoyance. She revealed a pair of huge, mother-like bosoms as she pulled up her sweater. They fell out and hung naked before the girls, thorougly pierced in each nipple with a golden ring. Her nipples were hard and they seemed to strain to break free of the rings, which hung from the mid-point of each stemming nipple. But however much the twin nipples stuck forth, the rings remained heavily pierced through and hanging beneath them. They were captive nipples, delighted and lovely and warm red in color but nonetheless bearing the mark of ownership. By Master. The man Elaine had gotten her nipples pierced for and the man who also, no doubt, would want to see Jackie’s nipples pierced too. In striking contrast to the woman’s nipples, whose name, she remarked to the girls, was Lady Beverly, just like that, with the Lady always being spoken as well as the Christian name; in contrast to her, Abigail, when she had gone to Lady Beverly and been unzipped, and lost her bra, revealed a perfect apple-sized pair of small tits that were unpierced. They had pink nipples, in contrast to the rose ones Lady Beverly bore. Both females had flat bellies. Their skin was pleasantly tanned, though much lighter than the tans Elaine and Jackie sported from playing every day by the pool. Where the women’s breasts grew, their skin was absolutely white, just like the girls’. The four females looked at each other and broke into giggles. “Master will be very pleased,” Abigail said. “And he’s coming home to see his new guests, not you, my little maid,” Lady Beverly said to the girl. “Have you brought the crumpets? Good. We shall eat, then. Finish pouring my tea and pour out some for the girls. Not too much for Jackie. She has to go the bathroom.” Lady Beverly smiled at the young model. “I can’t hold it much longer,” Jackie said. “Master will be home any minute,” Lady Beverly replied. And, her breasts wobbling like twin red-tipped volcanoes of flesh on her chest, she daintily bit into a crumpt. One of her nipples almost dipped into her fresh cup of tea on the table. “Oh!” Lady Beverly cried. She carefully lifted the teacup out from under her bosom and brought it to her lips. “One of the troubles of being a true Al Bundy woman,” she smiled. “Who?” Jackie asked. “The guy on T.V.,” Elaine told her. “The shoe salesman.” “Oh. I thought you were owned by... by Master, not by a shoe salesman,” Jackie said to Elaine. “I am, dear. And you too, now, though less completely than me, at this stage.” She sipped her tea. “I only meant God made like Al Bundy would like to have me, if he could, which of course he can’t, although, considering he’s really a wealthy, famous L.A. actor, I guess he could, perhaps...” She let her eyes lift into the distance a moment, then dismissed the thought. A noise sounded in the hall. Both Elaine and Jackie jumped in their seats. Their bosoms quivered. Lady Beverly smiled. Abigail betrayed a grin. Then she kept watch, over the diners, standing primly, lest any of them request more tea. Footsteps sounded heavily in the hall, a quick, certain gait, the gait of a young man. Suddenly the door to the parlor opened. “Master!” four voices chimed in unison. Beverly chuckled afterward, her eyes bright, her large bosoms wobbling nakedly on her chest, the rings hanging from them like obscene Pirate jewels. “Would you like some tea, master?” Abigail asked politely. She held up the teapot in offering. “Well, it must be warmer in here than it is out there,” Master said. “It’s freezing out there!” He grinned at the females. He eyed Elaine. She smiled briefly, reached for her tea. She tried to lift it to her lips. Her hand was shaking. “You pierced your nipples for me,” Master said to her. He walked over to her. He towered above her. He was tanned and buff, at least six feet tall, if not more. He had dark curly hair and a five o’clock shadow on his face, which was really a 9 o’clock shadow, as it was no longer afternoon. He wore a striped business suit but he’d not brought in his jacket, hanging it instead in the hall, in a closet near the chair where the girls’ blouses and Jackie’s bra had been laid. Jackie, surprised and delighted that he was as much as a dreamboat as Elaine had promised, gazed up at him, grinning shyly. Master bent over and cupped Elaine’s tits very gently. He hefted them in his hands, as if weighing fruit. Then he toyed with the nipples and the gold rings that had been thrust through them. “Yes, a perfect job,” Master said. “I trusted you’d find someone capable to do it.” Elaine looked shyly down at her boobs in his hands. She licked her lips. “I’m her friend!” Jackie piped up. She sat expectantly with her hands in her lap, perhaps diddling herself just a little, absently, with a finger slipped under her very short skirt. Master, still keeping possession of the prize, newly-pierced gourds in his hands, looked at Jackie. “And what are you doing here?” he asked. He eyed her naked unpierced breasts but she was too naive to catch the full extent of his meaning, for although he might have intended to speak harshly to her his voice came out as a soft Snake Plishkin sort of whisper. “I’m-- well...” Jackie paused. Beverly was afraid she might become frightened, and perhaps disrupt the easy eroticism of the moment, so she suggested, “She’s here to go dancing, dear.” “Yes!” Jackie agreed. She gazed at Master’s huge form bent over Elaine and, as her eyes drifted down to his crotch, she added, hopefully, “And to get balled, too.” She waited for the effect of her words to sink in on Master and, when he arched an eyebrow at her, she left her lips from the “too” in her sentence pursed and gazed at him with inviting eyes. Master gave a chuckle. Abigail sniggered. Elaine, still held by her bosoms, gave a small, slight laugh and felt her bosoms shake on Master’s calloused palms. “Well,” Master said. “You might find I have rather exotic tastes. Why didn’t you get your nipples pierced if you wish to live in my house with me?” “I was afwaid,” Jackie admitted. She glanced down at her perky nipples, sticking up from her bosoms like eager pink thorns. “I can help you overcome your fear,” Master replied. He gave Elaine’s breasts a final squeeze and stood up. “Are you wearing panties?” Master asked. He leaned in over both girls. He put a hand on each of their small shoulders, possessively. The girls nodded. “Of couse we’re wearing panties,” Jackie said. “I’d get in trouble with my mom if she knew I was running around without panties on.” Master frowned. “She’s modelling here for the summer,” Elaine added quickly. “Her mom’s in--” “My mom’s in Iowa,” Jackie offered. “My grandma lives there. And I’m living here, for the summer. Have you ever met any models before?” She smiled brightly at Master. He could not keep his frown on his face, despite his concerns that the girl might be too young. His frown dissolved and he grinned. “Yes,” he laughed. “I’ve known some models. But you’re the prettiest. Except for your friend here,” he added. He ran his fingers through Elaine’s hair, touched a barrette. He unclipped it. “Let your hair be free, totally free, like your breasts,” he said to Elaine. “Do you want me to take my barrettes out too?” Jackie asked in a high, shrill voice. Elaine glared at her. She realized it had been a mistake to bring the girl along with her. She’d let her fear of what might happen, an erotic interlude where she became her Master’s obsession, lead her into bringing along a brat who insisted on having all the attention.” “She needs to go pee,” Elaine said querolously to Master. “She does?” Master asked. He rose. His attention left Elaine, unexpectedly, and she felt like bolting from the room, she was so unhappy. Master noticed, somehow. Perhaps it was his attentiveness to her demeanor that had drawn him to her in the first place. He straightened up. “Girls,” he said. “Elaine, love. Take off your panties. And you too, Jackie, but don’t be talking while you do it, just take them straight off. You won’t be needing panties here, either of you.” “But I always need my panties!” Jackie protested. “Shhhh! Do as you’re told!” Beverly scolded. She reached across the table and threatened to slap the little brunette. “Elaine,” Master said. “Remove your panties and place them on the table. Did you take a Pill this morning?” “No,” Elaine whispered. “I didn’t eith-- YEOCH!” Jackie cried. Lady Beverly reached across the table quick as lightning and gave her a slap. Her big bosoms juddered, Jackie’s smaller tits bounced on her chest. A red splotch formed on her cheek, then whitened again. Master stood over Elaine, attentive, his gaze peering down at her. His big hands held her small, soft shoulders and he rubbed them in a kind of gentle, encouraging massage. Elaine lifted her bottom slightly, felt her dress rise with her, felt its short length slip out from under her thighs. The seat was smooth, cool vinyl under her legs. She reached within her skirt and pulled down her underpants. The portion in her crotch resisted until the last moment, popping out of her snatch only when all else had been yanked halfway down her thighs. Elaine drew them down to her feet and had to bend over, master still rubbing her shoulders, and pull them in a tangle off her high-heeled sneakers. She placed them up on the table next to her plate. They were white, frilly. They were wet in the center, where they had lain in her crotch. She smoothed them a little on the table cloth, but Master told her to drink her tea. “Don’t fix your dress,” he said, seeing her reach underneath herself to place her skirt under her thighs. “Lift it up. Get your bare ass right on the seat of the chair. I told you everything would be open and free here.” Elaine pulled up her skirt. Master had never seen her pussy and she moved carefully, hoping to prevent him from seeing her thatch, but he leaned over and frankly pulled up her skirt in front and looked down at her dell. “Lovely. Same color as your hair,” he said. “Do you feel your bare ass on the seat?” “Yes,” Elaine breathed. “Good,” he said. “Get used to it. How old are you?” “Nineteen,” she breathed. The vinyl felt imposing upon her skin, as if it controlled her. She had no protection from it. Her panties were lying by her plate, her dress was rudely pulled up. Her blouse was a memory down the hall. “Nineteen,” Master breathed. “You look older, but nineteen is still not too young.” Elaine smiled. It was still a compliment, at nineteen, to be told she looked older than she was. It let her into the clubs and it helped her meet men like Master, dreamboat men who wanted to care for her. Jackie had to wear lots of makeup to get herself into clubs, and sometimes she struck out, and even inside the clubs men found her too young, too impish, and preferred other girls. “I may not give you anything to prevent giving birth after we’ve finished,” Master said. “I don’t know, certainly I will make you pregnant while you’re here. Then, perhaps, I’ll fall in love with you, and keep you too long, and deny you anything to help you end your pregnancy. Would you be willing to bear a child for me?” Elaine smiled. “Twins,” she said very softly. She didn’t like speaking so frankly about what they were bound to do. Better to dance, and to play, and to let the night develop, with her breasts swinging freely. “I could probably have triplets,” Jackie offered. She was artless in her admiration of Master, hiding nothing, not pretending to drink tea or to take a bite from her crumpet. “You, my dear, are quite a little pest, and if I got you pregnant I’d have two of you to contend with a year later,” Master laughed. “Nonetheless you’ll be kept off the Pill while you’re here. It will add to the excitement. You seem to thrive on that.” “Can I go to the bathroom?” Jackie pleaded. She looked at Master with big round eyes and put her hand to her dell, guilelessly, and wiggled in her seat in dumb appeal. “Finish your crumpet and drink your tea and then you may be excused,” Master told her. “Thanks!” Jackie said. Quickly she stuffed her crumpet into her mouth and then, just as quickly, she dumped her tea in behind it. “OW!” she cried suddenly, as hot tea (though it was more lukewarm than hot by now) spilled on her breasts. “See? That’s why we have our tea topless, to learn manners,” Lady Beverly told Jackie. “Ooops. I’m sorry,” Jackie admitted. Her mouth was full of crumpet and she spit out crumbs inadvertently as she spoke. “She needs a visit here more than Elaine does,” Lady Beverly said to Master. “Look at her!” “Elaine is visiting for another purpose,” Master said. “To be groomed, perhaps as my wife, like a fine show horse.” He cupped Elaine’s breasts again and hefted them up and felt their weight. She shivered in his grasp. He looked over at Jackie. “That little minx, on the other hand, needs basic training, and a good hard pounding on her ass to make her behave.” Jackie’s eyes bulged from her head. She threw down her napkin on the table and gave up trying to clean the tea she’d spilled from her naked breasts and the table. “Potty time!” she declared and, jumping up, darted from the room before even Abigail could stop her. A minute later the door reopened. Jackie peeked in. Master had seated himself in Elaine’s seat and she was perched in his lap, facing him. Although her skirt was still around her waist she had spread her legs completely apart so that they stuck out around Master’s waist and then out through the opening in the back of what had once been her chair. They were engaged in a langorous kiss, not hurrying, slow and loving, like two people kiss when they’ve just met but know they were made for each other. Elaine’s naked bosoms were pressed up against Master’s suit, almost imploring him, in their closeness, in their disregard for how they rubbed against his starched shirt, to take her however he pleased. The opening of the door to the parlor broke their kiss. “Where IS the potty?” Jackie asked. Her hand was placed within her thighs. It pushed her little skirt back with it into her dell. Abigail was seated on Lady Beverly’s lap, sharing a kiss, sitting over the woman’s knees. She and Lady Beverly were rubbing their bare bosoms together, laughing quietly at how their nipples excited each other. “Abigail, go show Jackie where she can piss,” Lady Beverly said. The girl reluctantly made to get up from her mistress’ lap. “No,” Master said. “I have changed my mind. Get up, Elaine. I would let you go first but I know you would wait, and she’s bursting. Come here, little miss!” Master helped Elaine get her legs out of the back of the chair. He drew her knees up and then, when she was free of it, she dropped her legs down through the space between the arms of the chair and the seat and gave master a final kiss. He relished her kiss, then insisted again she get up. He helped her, sliding his legs under her bare fanny and lifting it. Elaine looked sour but she brushed her hair back and tried to keep her composure. She desired to do as her Master wished, even if it displeased her, for that was the whole point of her being here, to go beyond conventional boyfriends into a relationship charged with much deeper emotions. Quietly, she got up from Master’s lap. She lifted her leg and her dress fell back, showing all of her thigh as she dismounted from him. Master gazed at the wisps of her thatch that showed under the hem of her dress. When she was standing, next to him, he decided to tease himself no longer with glimpses of her bush. “Take off your skirt,” he told her. Then, turning to Jackie, he said, “You too.” Both girls reached behind themselves. Jackie tried to look to Elaine for comfort but the girl ignored her. Jackie unzipped her skirt, hoping it would stick, like Abigail’s blouse had, so she’d get more attention, but it unzipped smoothly and her skirt drooped in a pool to her feet. She wore only her sneakers now. “Come here,” Master said. Jackie walked hopefully to Master, not knowing what to expect, but knowing she had to pee quite badly. She walked with a hand in her dell and her bottom wriggling like a fish caught on a hook. Elaine, meanwhile, bent over, her large lovely breasts hanging down underneath her, to pick up her skirt, but Master didn’t notice her. “Get on my lap,” Master told Jackie. The girl clambered up onto his knees. Facing him, she scooted forward on her legs and let him take them and stick them, trap them, really, out through the back of the chair. “Now pee,” Master told Jackie. Elaine, who was walking round behind his chair, to pick up Jackie’s skirt off the floor, stopped in shock, in mid-stride. “You want me to pee in your pants?!” Jackie asked, startled. “Not in them. I’m wearing them. Pee on them. I’ve got to wash your bottom anyway before you’re whipped. Wet bottoms sting much better. Now pee in my lap. You do have to go, don’t you?” “I do but--!” Jackie tried to escape. She waggled her hips and tried to withdraw her legs from the hole in the back of the chair but Master gripped her tightly. He looked at her unpierced adolsecent breasts, small round balloons before his eyes. He grinned. He bent and bit into one of the wiggling girl’s tits to still her. “OUCH! Don’t DO that!” Jackie scolded. Master lifted his head. “Pee then,” he told her. “Pee now. You’ve peed in your panties when you were a little girl?” “Sometimes,” Jackie admitted. “When my daddy was mean and didn’t pay attention to me and take me to the bathroom when I told him to. Then, when I really had to go, we had to run, and by then it was too late and sometimes I peed--” she giggled. “Once I peed right on his suit while he was carrying me so we could get there faster. It got me so excited, bouncing up and down in his arms, that I peed, even though I might not have if he hadn’t carried me.” She giggled and leaned forward and kissed Master’s shirt. She lifted her head and looked at him, straight in the eye. “I’m going to wet you,” she said. Elaine let out a snort of disgust. She picked up Jackie’s skirt and folded it over her arm. “Whoa!” Master cried. “Wheeeee! I’m wetting you!” Jackie cried gleefully to the man. “Damn, you’re letting a lot out!” Master observed. “Yes, right on your new suit! What will the drycleaner say?” “My word, all over the floor and everything!” Lady Beverly declared. She and Abigail looked, then shared a kiss. “You may do the same if you like,” she whispered to Abigail. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ve never before. I hope you enjoy it.” And then she peed too, and Elaine, who’d wanted to share a mature romantic experience with this man she loved to call Master, almost bolted from the room again. “That’s enough for you,” Master said. He lifted Jackie up. She was still peeing into his lap, the stream was still coming out of her, but he’d sensed Elaine’s disappointment and he moved to make amends. “But I’m still GOING!” Jackie cried. She had loved kissing Master as she peed and she didn’t want to be interrupted. Kicking like a little girl taken too soon from the potty, for indeed Master now was her potty, she was hoisted up from his lap by his great big hands and plopped down on the floor. Her pee dribbled and ran down her legs and she saw with disappointment that it was wetting her sneakers. “Ooooh! No!” Jackie yelped. She opened her legs. She peed the rest of her pee on the floor, standing in a half-squat, looking down at herself over her pendant breasts, at her bare belly and bare thighs and the pee that flowed so freely from between her cunt lips. “Now you’re next,” Master said to Elaine. With quiet grace and a dismissive smirk, so let him know she didn’t like being placed second, Elaine nonetheless got back up on Master’s lap. “Oooh, you’re sitting in my pee!” Jackie said gleefully to Elaine, watching the girl mount up even as she, Jackie, continued to squirt pee from her legs onto the carpet. “Yick!” Elaine said to Master. She felt his pee-wettened lap make contact with her bare thighs and bottom. Had he been any other man, she would have already found a phone and been calling a cab, retreiving her blouse, telling her girlfriends the next day what a weird, perverted man she’d met. But he was so dreamy and perfect, so absolute in his presence, in his need for her, and in his understanding of her moods, that she got on his lap and decided to accept this new thing that was happening to her. “Now pee,” Master told her. And she did. Lustily. She found herself laughing and they kissed and when she was done Master put his hand to her dell and rubbed her passionately, almost making her cum. His finger penetrated her snatch and she rode it a little. Behind her she heard Abigal and Lady Beverly fingering each other, doing the same. And, meanwhile, quite enjoying the sight, frigging herself as she watched, little Jackie danced around in the nude, in her pee-stained sneakers. Upstairs they danced for Master. They were still wet with their pee, wearing only their sneakers, their hair flowing freely around their liquid forms as they cast themselves to and fro with the music. It was a large room, windowed all around, and both girls wondered if they could be seen. But they were both aroused, frigging themselves a little, for Master said he didn’t mind as long as they kept themselves from acheiving complete satisfaction. That was his job. He sat in a chair overlooking the city, but facing the girls. He took his cock out and stroked it languidly as he watched the two girls gyrate and whirl and dance and fast-step in front o him. Lady Beverly served drinks, still clothed from the waist down. Abigail brought up a bucket and sponge from downstairs so the girls could be washed after the music stopped. And then they’d be whipped. Master assured them of that, but said he’d go easy on them, this first night, giving them only a strapping, with the belt from his pants. He would apply it’s tail, not it’s buckle, he assured them with a laugh. So the girls danced, Elaine and Jackie, with a sense of purpose. They were freed of everthing, even the need to pee in a potty. When both girls had to go again he told them to pee as they danced, and they did. Little Jackie hoped she might have to poop, to steal the show, but she didn’t, much as she prayed her crumpets might turn to poop in her tummy. She asked for more but Master, sensing her plan, didn’t allow Abigail to bring any up. “You must show off by dancing,” Master told Jackie. “Not by performing bathroom habits in public.” Jackie blushed. Elaine, who might have given her a scolding eye, didn’t. She was fully absorbed in her dancing, her eyes closed now, letting Master watch and observe and savor her movements. She knew her body was very beautiful and she was proud to share it with a man she loved, or at least deeply admired. She was flushed and hot and when she opened her eyes, and saw little Jackie dancing near her, she impulsively embraced the girl. She kissed her and she made her rub her belly against her own and their tits crushed together and their nipples fought and poked into each other’s breasts. “Spank us, Master!” both girls begged finally. They couldn’t stand the thought of it happening but even less could they stand shaking their white bottoms in front of him and waiting for it to happen. “A little longer, a little more,” he said quietly. He rubbed his great prick and both girls eyed it eagerly. They hated themselves for being so wanton but he was a true gem of a dreamboat and neither girl could hide her admiration for him from herself, or from him. He gave both girls an easy grin. He was in the Catbird’s seat. They were his and he could do with them whatever he wished. They would not deny him. Abigail filled a bucket with water in preparation for the whipping. She waited on her knees, sailing a sponge around in the bucket, humming to herself, still clothed from the waist down. She had peed in her panties downstairs, on Lady Beverly’s lap, and now, looking at Lady Beverly, both of them growing bored with the waiting, she received a silent nod from the woman to slip out of her panties. They were cold and wet and she took them off with relief. She waited for a moment when Master was absorbed with the dancing of Elaine and Jackie and she darted to the wet bar and stashed her panties behind a bottle of Gin. Beverly, serving drinks, slipped out of her panties as well, and hid them in the bottles. Master might peek under their skirts but then again, he might not. They decided to risk being found disobedient to their Master rather than spend the evening in wet panites. They both wore longer skirts than the girls had, Abigail a skirt that stopped at mid-thigh, a proper maid’s skirt; Beverly a skirt that fell to her knees. Master, being in complete control, subject to no whim but his own, decided his passions were too enflamed by the girl’s eagerness for his attention to stop with a simple spanking. More was needed. And it could not be done here. It would have to be downstairs in a soundproofed room where the cook and the other help could not hear and no one, absolutely no one, no pervert with a telescope, could see. Master stuffed himself back into his pants with difficulty. He zipped himself up. He told both hot, flushed dancing girls to go over to Abigail and let her give them a quick wipe on their legs and between their thighs. He watched, sipping a fresh drink, brought to him by Beverly. “You wish them over the bar?” she asked. “No. Downstairs,” he said. “Oh.” She answered. “As you wish. I can give them a proper bath first if you like, so they’ll look their absolute best for their whipping.” Master cleared his throat. Beverly looked at his crotch. “You are excited,” she said. Of course he always sported a prominent crotch at times like this, but she saw that he was aroused to the point of being enflamed, of losing control. He did not like to lose control. He cleared his throat again, coughed. “Yes, they are quite delightful, are they not?” he asked. He looked at the two girls and Beverly looked at them. They stood by the bucket, spreading their legs helpfully for Abigail, letting her wash their privates and their pretty curls of pubic hair. They straightened their legs this way and that for her so she might scrub them with the light, soapy bucketwater wherever she needed. She sponged their bottoms and then, higher up, their bellies and their breasts. She washed both their faces. When she was done, while both girls waited with their arms wrapped around their bosoms, shivering a little in the cool night air, Abigail emptied the bucket at the bar and refilled it in the big sink. Then she rinsed both girls, twice over, so that when they were finished they sparkled with a wet, clean sheen of water. “Just do their hair,” Master said as both girls grinned over at him. He spoke quietly, to Beverly. “Their hair, their makeup. I didn’t know Abigail would be so industrious.” “She is a fine maid,” Beverly said. “Yes,” Master answered. The girls were made to sit, one each on Master’s knees. They rubbed themselves a little on his knees but Beverly made them stop so she could apply a fresh coat of makeup to their faces. Abigail did their hair. Master sat with his legs apart, his crotch bulging. He kept a hand on each girl’s belly, feeling its wonderful flatness, the dimpled navel, glad neither girl was presently on the Pill and would have her womb ready for him when he came in her. The girls wiggled. He patted thier flat bellies and told them to stop. They leaned back and put their hands on his crotch. He endured. “I have changed my mind about your spanking,” Master said to the girls. He patted their bellies. Their bottoms both flinched. They had satiny white heinies and he could barely contain his desire to see them marked. “Jackie, you are too talkative and too eager to make yourself the center of attention. Elaine, you are too withdrawn, too jealous of Jackie.” He leaned forward and kissed Elaine’s ear, as if to silently show her that he still loved her best, she was equal to Jackie only in terms of the punishment they both would receive. “I have a room downstairs where you both can be made to behave. You will not think of disobeying afterwards, when it’s over. You will feel, right down to your bones, a desire to please me, instead of only a half-desire, half obedient and half rebellious.” He reached a finger into both girl’s dells as he spoke, and quietly stroked them. Under any other circumstances they certainly would have thought through the matter carefully, would have refused. But they were warm and spirited from their dancing. They had been bathed and pampered by Lady Beverly and Abigail. They were constantly teetering toward orgasm during their entire visit so far, building up to it, almost reaching it, being denied. Now they were too heated in their loins and their breasts and their heads to refuse. They both bit their lips, hearing him speak, nodded. And then they both leaned back and tossed their hair clear of their faces, as if nonchalant about it, uncaring, though their bottoms wiggled with anxious regret upon hearing their sentece pronounced as they sat on his knee. For it would be like a sentence, both of them sensed that, a slow affair, with hopefully much balling inbetween each lash of the whip, taking perhaps an hour, perhaps more. The two girls looked at each other. Their eyes showed girlish worry and they impulsively leaned across toward each other and embraced and kissed. Then, bravely, at a command from Master, they separated and got up from his knees. Master had both girls walk ahead of him. He drew off his belt so there would be no misunderstanding that the time for teasing and talking and rebellion was over. The girls clasped hands, then let go again, as if desiring to be more womanly. They walked separately. Abigail went ahead of them, opening doors, then behind, to close the doors after Master and Beverly, holding hands, had passed through. Elaine’s long blonde hair trailed behind her as she walked, cascading down her back and almost reaching her waist. Beverly suggested quietly to Master that it be cut, so he could whip her back without having to first pin up her hair. “No,” he replied, too quiet for the girls in front of him to hear. “Anything might be done to them, however cruel, but their hair must never be cut. It is long and beautiful, and I like it that way. Trimmed, if needed, to keep their bottoms bare and uncovered, but nothing more.” Beverly smiled, nodded. She liked the easy nature of the man about girls and cruelty, mixed with a tender gentleness for the most inane things; things which, however, in her mind separated the true lovers and sadists from the mere hopefulls, men who didn’t understand and would never understand because they were too busy dominating a girl, instead of using dominance to draw her out. The girls walked with a quiet composure. They felt a sense of forboding mixed with delight. They were thoroughly nude and made-up. Their hair was brushed, their lashes were perfectly combed, their eyebrows were stencilled and their cheeks were powdered. Their lips were painted bright red. They were stripped to just their sneakers, which they’d removed for their bucket bath and then put back on, keeping them dry. Master had watched them with leering eyes as they bent, all knees and bobbing breasts and long lovely thighs, and tied their sneakers back on. They enjoyed being loved by an absoultely handsome and wealthy and devoted master. They liked the idea of having servants, of being served, catered to, worried over. Yet there was a price, as in all things. They must surrender their bodies. Yet was it not so in all things? Would they not, if not to Master, surrender their wombs, and surrender themselves one day to the pain of childbirth, to the soreness of nursing a newborn? Elaine bowed her head and walked on, watching her large breasts sway under her chin. She lifted her hands, touched her belly. It would be full with His seed by morning. She felt the quiet opening and closing of her white bottomcheeks behind her as she took each step. She would be lashed there. She knew he would strike her there, to see her show emotion and to test her love for him. And he would quarter her, pulling her apart in back, and he would shove himself... somewhere. She was glad she’d helped little Jackie get used to having something up her butt, for he would most certainly want both of them every possible way before he permitted them to leave. Elaine looked over at Jackie. If only the girl knew that she herself had never permitted anything up her bottom! She’d fucked the girl with the dildo more for herself than anything, to see what it was really like, how much it actually hurt, what it was like the next day when it was over but you could still feel the presence of the phallus lingering in your hole. What it was like the first time you pooped after having had something up you. The girls’ ankles were trim and their legs were long. Their asses hovered above their thighs, below their waists, sticking out in their whitness against the tanned flesh of the girls’ limbs and backs like twin white bunny tails, hoping to hop away before the farmer’s shotgun found them. There was a slight tensing of the cheeks now and then, as each girl considered her fate. And then she’d toss her hair back, and the tightness of the rear cheeks would ease a little as she told herself it wouldn’t be too bad, more love than pain. More Master than his belt. Downstairs the girls were let into a cold room with bare tiled walls and a stone floor. Both girls saw with dismay, lifting their arms to their bosoms to ward off the cold, the antiseptic nature of the room. They had expected perhaps a soft bed, flowers, a pillow or two, perhaps a friendly teddy bear. Instead there was only the cold, white tile. A single bulb in the center of the tiled ceiling stood naked, casting a harsh white light. Everything would be seen in this room, in this implacable light; the spaces between legs, the softness between the cheeks of one’s bottom. It would be quite impossible for them to hide anything. Against a far wall, standing in the nude shivering, observing it, the girls saw iron shackles where they would be held. The shackles had been padded on their insides to keep them from chafing the girls’ legs and wrists, but it was small comfort, given how the shackles would expose all the rest of them to their Master’s whims. On a table against the opposite wall, as far as possible from the shackles, stood a small table. There was water there, and ammonia pads to revive a girl, and vinegar for her breasts and snatch and bottomhole if she kicked and screamed while being bound to the wall. But while she was bound to the wall she would not actually be up against it, for standing out from the wall were two posts. They were heavily padded, as if a girl might desire to throw herself against the posts, and require protection. “Get them chained up,” Master said to Lady Beverly and Abigail. He went to the table and poured himself a drink from a bottle of bourbon sitting there. It was in a fresh bucket of ice, as if placed there by a maid before their arrival. A maid who knew, though she would not be present, what they would be up to. Elaine shivered, seeing the bucket. Had the maid glimpsed her walking by, in the nude, to her fate, wearing just her sneakers. She hoped not. “May I have a drink first?” Jackie asked. For once Elaine was glad to hear the girl speak up. Her brown eyes looked imploringly at Master. Was she playing for time? “You’ll only have to go to the bathroom afterward,” he said. But he let them both have a drink anyway, for Beverly suggested they might need anesthesia. She knew Master’s mind better than he did. She could see that he was on the brink of madness tonight, looking at such splendid girls. He’d had many before, but Jackie was so young, and Elaine, obediently, had gotten her nipples pierced for him, though girls rarely did that, preferring instead to show up as they were and take their chances with angering him. They all left pierced, of course. Master insisted on that. Sometimes in just their nipples, sometimes in their tongues too, or even in their labial lips, or their clitoral hood. One girl had been pierced right through her clitty. Beverly would always remember her screams of impassioned agony as it happened. Never had pleasure been mixed so intimately with pain. They all sipped drinks. The two girls were naked, Beverly and Abigail topless, Master still fully clothed. He was desperate to draw himself free of his pants but he knew if he did, Elaine and Jackie would be impossible to stop from blow-jobbing him, eager to win a reprieve. He couldn’t trust himself not to let them both off if they made him cum, if they wearied him, if they worked him until he was exhausted and his balls were empty. Two girls with avid mouths might end the evening for him in ten minutes. He was not as young as he looked. He worked out very hard and was blessed with impeccable good looks, which made him appear dignified as he aged, rather than old. But he knew his limits and he knew how young and strong both girls were. Now he would wear them down to his level, and only afterward would he fuck them. “Come, girls,” Beverly said at last. “To the posts.” She was slightly taller than Elaine and Elaine was taller than Jackie, so Beverly put a hand behind both girls heads and walked them to the posts. The girls’ bare bottoms wiggled anxiously as they walked. They tried to look back over their shoulders at Master but Beverly’s hands prevented that. “Press yourselves up against the posts,” Beverly told both girls. “Embrace them.” First Jackie, somewhat curious, did as Lady Beverly asked, then Elaine. Both girls hugged the well-padded posts and then waited as their limbs were drawn forward by Lady Beverly, or by Abigail, for both worked to get them ready, and chained up against the cold tiled wall. Jackie felt Abigail lift both her arms, high up, past the post and toward the wall, her hands not quite touching it, lofted high in an acute angle, then shackled in iron. She was glad for the padding inside each iron cuff for her wrists were barely healed from the hemp rope she’d endured in the cabin. As she wondered why she was subjecting her body yet again to the will of others (though at the same time humping the post with her hungry pussy), she noticed that the post bulged out slightly where her hips and private made contact. “Oooh, I can rub myself quite easily,” Jackie said with a naughty grin to Elaine. “You’ll both make the posts quite wet there with your spendings,” Beverly assured the girls, pinning up Elaine’s hands. “Notice what it does to your bottom,” Elaine warned Jackie. She was striving to remain still, though she longed to let herself go and rub up against the post like Jackie was doing. “Oooh, it shoves my bottom back and lifts it a little,” Jackie declared. She looked back, watched the curve of her hips as she humped the easily ridden bulge in the post. Her bulge had been crafted lower down; helpful servants had adjusted the padding, rewrapping the post, judging Jackie’s height with their eyes. Elaine watched as Abigail knelt by her feet. She drew her feet forward a little, so that they were out in front of Elaine’s body. The pose forced Elaine to bear down with her naked pussy upon the hump in the post. Abigail locked shackles around her ankles. Elaine’s legs, drawn forward like this, were also spread about two feet apart, which put her in a lewd squat-like pose. It made her heinie thrust back at Master. She could do nothing now but await his depredations. She was thankful for the high flat heels on her sneakers for otherwise she would have had to stand on tiptoe to accomodate the pose Abigail required of her. When Elaine’s legs were spread and both shackled at the ankle, Abigail hurried to Jackie and did the same to her. Lady Beverly was above kneeling to serve the girls. “They are ready, Master,” Beverly said when Abigail had finished. Both girls looked at each other, humped their posts, then glanced back at Master as they heard him unzip himself and draw out his cock. He picked up his belt. “Should they be gagged?” Lady Beverly asked him. “Only if I must be very severe,” he replied. “No one can hear. But they might bite their tongues. Wait awhile. Let me test their mettle and see what sort of response I get.” “How many swats do we have to get?” Jackie asked with alarm. The girl was busy humping her post, hoping to cum, and she’d forgotten, perhaps, that pleasure wasn’t the only emotion Master intended for her to feel. “There is no limit,” Master replied. He gave the belt a playful swish across the floor. “I will judge your emotional state, your responsiveness. It is well that you hump the post so eagerly, for it will be your only respite from the pain. Of course, it is quite lewd for you to do it. So try not to, if you wish for me to judge you ladylike and well-mannered.” “Oooohh!” Elaine wailed. She loved the sound of his voice and it made her hump her own post, which she’d already done a little of, but had stopped when Beverly scared her with talk of a gag. “Look how wanton they are,” Beverly laughed. “They look like two little Indians out in the forest pleasuring themselves on trees.” “They’ll both pee on those posts before I’m through with them,” Master grinned. “The night is yet young, and I won’t be unchaining them.” “Oh, pleeeease, Master. Let us go now!” Jackie implored him. “No my sweet. The time has come for your bumptious little ass to get what it richly deserves,” he replied. With a long, slow, uncoiling of his belt as it arched through the air, Master struck Jackie. He chose her first because she was the noisiest and always demanding attention. Now, suddenly, as she shouted out how much the belt hurt and stood up on her toes, humping her post for relief when the pain began to subside from that first awful stroke, she had all the attention she needed. Beverly and Abigail laughed. Master laughed. “Ohhhhh, it hurts weally BADLY!” Jackie pouted when she’d recovered herself and was merely humping the post. “Of course, dear. It’s designed to produce emotion,” Lady Beverly answered. “And look at Elaine, so tense. Loosen her up, Master dear.” “Yes, I will. She’ll hump her post like a hungry female animal.” He let go the belt again and it went thwacking against Elaine’s bottom. She howled out a scream, tried to squeeze her cheeks against the pain, tried not to be too vocal but couldn’t help it. “Oh, stop! It hurts!” Elaine begged. “Only the first, my dear. Only the first. More to come. Pour me a drink, Abigail.” “Yessir!” Abigail said. She gave him a quick salute. The belt frightened her. She knew there were worse things curled up in the big drawer suspended under the tabletop. The strokes were laid on, each one slow and deliberate, with time inbetween for the girls to absorb each stinging blow. “Look! They’re trying to climb the posts!” Lady Beverly laughed. It was common enough. Girls, subjected to the whip, tried to somehow scamper up the posts in hopes of saving themselves. It was quite useless, for they were shackled, but they tried anyway. Elaine and Jackie’s white bottomcheeks turned a pale pink and then a deeper pink as the strokes were applied. When Master had burnished each bottom into the color of the sky before sunrise, he switched to a more definite impliment. “Oh, no!” Elaine cried, straining her neck back. Master took a riding crop from the drawer under the table. It was thick. He flexed it a little with his strong arms and then, his penis exposed to her, looking thick and turgid and dripping with pre-cum, he laid it in with a quick, deliberate stroke against her bottom. He struck her under her cheeks so that she was lifted up. “A little help in climbing the post,” he laughed, but Elaine howled for a female’s undercheeks are the most tender part of her heinie. She did indeed struggle to climb the post. Then Jackie was struck, and both of them went mad humping and trying to climb their posts with their legs parted and open and shackled. At dawn, with a knock from the maid on the door to let Master know breakfast was served, both girls emerged from the tiled room. The maid regarded them dourly. She was a women in her late 50’s, fat, too wise and ugly to spend the night trying to climb some post with her feet shackled to the floor. Master came after the girls, then Beverly, finally Abigail, who closed up all the drawers and put everything away as efficiently as she could, though the middle-aged maid would actually clean the room. Elaine and Jackie were drenched in tears. Great sobs tore from their ribs, making their breasts bounce, their necks strain. Their makeup was ruined from them rubbing their wet faces on their posts with abandon, despite it being waterproof. Their legs trembled and their curving hips shook with their sobs. Both of them were utterly nude, except for sneakers, and they looked at the middle-aged maid with frightened, remorseful eyes. They both clutched their bottoms frantically, trying to protect themselves, to somehow assauge the pain. Elaine’s nipples were stiff, with rings through them, and in looking at the girl’s bare breasts, the maid, glancing at Jackie, saw that she still needed rings. The maid entered the tiled room. She saw there was no blood, at least. Master had been gentler than he sometimes was. Perhaps he loved these girls. She stooped, picked up a condom. Yes. He’d spared them his seed. It came dripping out of the condom in great globs. Perhaps he was saving them, would impregnate them later on, after enjoying them more. She knew no girls stayed here on the Pill. All must be in danger of surrendering their wombs, their lives as they knew them, to Master. The maid tutted and turned, looked out the door. And there, to her disgust and surprise, she saw both girls, standing on tip-toe, still holding their bottoms, both leaning in to Master and showering his face with kisses. “Thank you, Master!” both girls said in high-pitched voices, eagerly, almost desperately, lest he take them back into the room and flog them again. “Thank you for making us good!” the girls said. Master leaned down, let them kiss his face. He patted the backs of their heads and their manes of long hair where it fell down their backs. And then, stepping back from them, amused, he said to Beverly, “Take them upstairs and give them both herbal massages on their bottoms. I want them ready for me when I should need them again, perhaps tonight, or tomorrow. I must have breakfast now, and then I must drive into town.” “Yes, dear,” Lady Beverly replied. And taking the girls by the backs of their heads, she led them away down the hall. Both girls tried to look back at Master, to bade him stay, but Beverly’s hands prevented it, and they were both quite busy holding their bottoms. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of my Internet account(s) by right-wing Christians. -Currently I am: roller39@mail.idt.net -formerly I was andrewroller@sprintmail.com, roller66@inreach.com, roller666@aol.com Read my complete works under these names by going to: http://www.excite.com (Click on ‘newsgroups’ and search under my various former screen names). (Also you can read irrelevant bullshit posted by right-wing Christians.) -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com - Free plug: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF 272 EMISSION -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /