Message-ID: <5583eli$9711121439@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: Nov 11 Punished for Pleasure part 4 of 4 (NND) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller39@IDT.NET Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34688C3B.9E@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in PUNISHED FOR PLEASURE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Four I sought the bed’s pillow with my face. Oh, how horrid I felt! I was a whipped, pissed-upon whore. I rolled on my tummy, my hands fastened behind me, my collar still clutching at my throat. I felt like the slithering snake in Paradise, except I’d been caught and punished for tempting Eve. And, with my cunt lips shiveringly wet between my legs, moist with the juice of my own excitement, I was Eve too. A girl can be a bitch both when she’s not had any fun and when she’s had too much of it. Despite my torments, I’d had more orgasms in the last hour than I’d had in my entire life. So I was the latter bitch, spoilt, and fulfilled at the same time. Now I felt sorry for myself. My face reached the bed’s pillow and I pressed my cheeks into it. I wanted to suffocate myself. My hero rescued me. It was a tawdry rescue, to be sure, and with a price to pay. Jeff tore my face from the pillow, found me gasping, and promptly kissed me. I sighed. He kissed again, more vigorously, and drove his tongue into my mouth. “I love you,” he breathed. I felt his unshaven face against my soft, 13-year-old cheeks. His tongue dueled with mine inside my mouth. He pushed mine back. I gagged. He pushed deeper. I accepted, at last, and he seemed to fuck me with his tongue, driving its long, thick length deep inside my mouth. I was his. He could take me as he wished, despite all he’d made me suffer on this awful day. Finding me receptive, he pulled his face away. He replaced it with his hips. I found myself staring at his penis. He proffered it to me. The big gnarly head of it bumped my nose, dripped upon it, then sought lower, and pushed against my lips. I opened my mouth. He placed his dick upon my tongue. I managed to close my lips a little and gave him a soft, moist place to spend his seed. I sucked. I urged him to fill my mouth with himself, to impregnate me if he could, filling my belly with his sperm. Bridget interrupted. “Jim,” she said, in her quiet, alluring way. She tapped him on his shoulder with a black-gloved finger. He turned, slightly, though not drawing his penis from my mouth. I sucked more vigorously. I wanted him to lose the sperm-weighing contest. He would give me his all and suffer as the loser, last among the men, having no sperm at all. All of his seed would be swimming in my belly. I would watch him punished then. “Jim, you have an appointment at the stocks,” Bridget said. Her voice spoke as if in invitation, though stocks, I knew from studying the Puritans in school, are used on criminals. My mouth gaped in wonder. Was I to see him punished now? Oh, joy! Gazing past his hips, I saw the other men, waiting, as if to be punished themselves. Bridget pulled Jim away from me. I let him go. I snapped once, trying to recapture his penis with my lips, as a dog snaps at flying things, then let him pass away. Together Bridget and Jim walked over to where the other men were waiting. I saw wood beyond them, as if a long bench was waiting to recieve their bottoms. It was, in fact, the stocks that I saw, not a bench. This was a very wicked sort of stocks, as I was momentarily to find out. It did not bind the neck, or suffer an intrusion of the hands, locking them in place. Instead, its purpose was to lock and hold that one part of the male anatomy that a man values above all else. It was a penis-stocks. At once I forgot all my suffering. I was alive as a cat, eager to see a dog thwacked for treeing me. I leapt from the bed, my boobies bouncing freely. I made my way over to where the men were standing. I looked down at what awaited them. It was a low bench, but with three holes in it. Three holes cut in the wood to recieve three penises. In fact, the “bench” was slightly more sophisticated than that. How to describe it? Picture, first, a bench, like a park bench, except without the back of the seat that you are accustomed to lean against when you sit down. So, then, a bench without a back to it. Next, think of this: a “bench,” but without a seat. Think of just a frame. A frame where one might place a seat, but, as yet, there is no seat, just a frame. On the “bench” I saw, which was really a stockade for the male penis, there was a stout frame. Indeed, the men, kneeling down, would be placing all their weight upon the frame, and it had to be sturdy to support them. These were big men, with bulging muscles. They would lie heavy upon this “bench”. Where the seat of the bench was supposed to be, picture this: a thin piece of wood. It was split down the middle, as if someone had sliced the bench along its middle with a saw. You can imagine the reason for that. The men were to kneel. Each one was to insert his penis into the “seat” of the “bench”. Then the front of the bench would be pressed toward the back of the bench. This would cause each man’s penis to become trapped inside the “seat” of the bench or, rather, in the hole cut for his cock. I shivered with excitement. To see the men forced to kneel, and stuff themselves through such wicked little holes! They would be like knockwurst sausages, trapped and held so they can be cut to a more responsible size. Carefully Bridget collared each of the men. She buckled a thick, black collar, decorated with studs, around each man’s neck. They waited, submissive, but stiff and hard-muscled in their submission, too excited by her sexiness to refuse her wishes. Bridget, with her jet black hair, her long stockings and her gloves, with her neck bound by a scarf, looked absolutely fabulous. Who would not want to submit to the discipline of such a wickedly feminine mistress? Often Bridget paused, and brushed back her long hair with her hand. She smiled at the men. She told them how perfect and huge they were, touching each man’s cock, weighing his big balls upon her palm. It was a showering of affection that she gave each man, even as she confined him for his punishment. Erika helped. She cuffed Jim’s hands behind his back. Together they teased the men, whispered to them, complimented their sexual organs, until at last each man trembled with desire to do whatever was wished of him, no matter how awful. Or stupid. “Please kneel, gentlemen. I must confine each of you by your penis,” Bridget said in her soft, whispery voice. Each man knelt. He was helped by the females’ soft hands to insert himself into the hole in the “seat” of the “bench”. I gazed in wonder. I glanced at Larissa. Still wearing her panties, her hands bound, like mine, behind her back, she was entranced. Amber, being not cuffed, scampered around the men, hoping to help in their confinement. But Sherry intervened, held her back. She was too little to help. These were big men and if they were to be made so thoroughly submissive, it had to be done with womanly teasing, not with the mischievious, inciteful teasing of a little girl. Amber would have induced them to chase her around the room, not to kneel. At last each man was on his knees, bent over the bench, and trapped by his cock in the seat of the bench. Bridget had been thoughtful of their comfort, however, despite trapping each man by his cock. For, under each man’s knees, she had placed a soft towel, so he would not have to feel the hardness of the stone floor. Nonetheless now there was to be applied to each man a certain degree of pain. Bridget made each man spread his legs. Erika knelt behind each man’s bottom and placed a “spreader bar” between his ankles. Thus spread, his legs apart, each man couldn’t help but show off the heavy sac of his balls. Bridget walked over to a low table. She picked up a wooden paddle. It was the size of a ping pong paddle. But it was thicker, and with holes drilled in it, to allow it to move faster through the air. “Now, gentlemen, I’m going to swat each of you,” Bridget explained to the men. “Not on your asses, however.” She giggled. “You three might be asses, especially for letting me trap you by your dicks. But it isn’t your asses I’m going to punish. No, I want you to remember this night. So, to punish you in a memorable way, I’m going to confine my swats to your balls.” “What?!” Walter yelled. “Erika, this is silly,” Nick said. “If you damage my balls I’ll cut you into pieces,” Jeff warned Bridget. “With a whip.” Bridget answered Jeff’s remark by putting her paddle between his thighs. She caught his balls on the end of her paddle and lifted them up. “Ah, darling,” she said. “Damage your balls? Such big, heavy balls as this? Why, I’m a girl. I shouldn’t wish to damage such a masculine treasure as these. You’re to be tormented, that’s all. And milked, too. That’s why they call this the “milking bench”. Erika, would you please play milk maid? Slip under the bench and pull upon the men’s penises. Take a cup for each. I shall need to weigh his donation, to see which man wins the sperm contest. I remembered then the golden scales she’d showed us at the evening’s beginning. The time had cum for each man to give of himself, and be weighed, and to see if he had more sperm than his fellows. “Give all you have,” Bridget told the men. She picked up a cone-shaped object from the table near the bench. “I shall have to shove this solid enema up the ass of the man who gives the least sperm. Don’t hold back! The loser shall be made a fag, forced to accept a plug up his ass. Then he shall shortly have to do number two, also, while everyone laughs at how foolish he looks, squatting and having diarrhea. “You are a wicked woman,” Jim breathed. He feared, I think, losing, for he’d spermed me earlier in the evening. I felt a sudden wish to see him win. Though it would have been a delight to see him sodomized, if it were just he and I, we were not alone together. Alone, we might have played all kinds of games, including ones where he was made foolish and submissive. But here I wished him declared the best of all men. “Come on, Jim!” I called out to him. “Fill the cup!” Erika slipped underneath the bench. She had three cups with her. Each one was made of fine crystal. How curious this dungeon was, with its jewelled cat, its place settings for tea, its wicked devices, and its crystal cups and golden scale. I felt a shiver run through me. A place like this turned wickedness to pleasure, and made pleasure wicked. My bottom felt sore. It was coated with the men’s dry pee. Yet I felt excited, alive. I wished I had a cock so I might be trapped alongside the men, forced to receive the paddle, forced to spend. Being a girl, I had to content myself with rubbing my thighs, and feeling my pussy wetten. Amber, her hands free, made use of her fingers. She watched the men with amorous eyes. She stuck a finger in her snatch and diddled her slit. “Amber!” Bridget scolded. She waved her paddle at the girl. “Don’t play with yourself. It’s naughty.” “I can’t help it!” Amber confessed. “The men are to be milked! Oh, don’t hit their balls too hard.” Erika, I saw, lying under the bench, placed a finger in her own snatch. At the same time, she slid a cup under Walter’s penis. She played with her slit. Then, moistening, she lifted her honey-coated fingers and curled them wetly around Walter’s dick. In her case, at least, she was using her moisture as lubrication. Amber was just masturbating. “SWAT!” The paddle made a loud crack. The men flinched. But the paddle had connected with Amber’s bottom, not with the men. “Oh, Boo! Hoo!” Amber wailed. She danced, red-bottomed, upon her toes. She reminded me of Tinker Bell as she jumped about, her golden hair flying. “Amber, don’t diddle with your slit,” Bridget warned the girl. “Simply watch, and behave.” “Shall I put her in cuffs?” Sherry asked Bridget. “Oh, I don’t want to wear handcuffs again!” Amber cried. She darted away. She ran to a big machine used to draw and quarter people, from the looks of it, and hid her small body behind it. I was reminded of a kitty hiding from evil boys. I glanced at Larissa. She was as excited as I by the spectacle of the men. She moaned. She rubbed her thighs together, fruitlessly, as I was doing, wishing she could make herself cum. I envied her panties. She was the last of us to remain modest. They looked pretty and white upon her hips. I was bare-bushed, showing my private to all who cared to glance upon it. I felt like an animal. My tits hung free, my legs worked uselessly against themselves. My cunny wetted itself but had nothing to receive within it. Larissa saw me scissoring my thighs together and smiled. It was a smile of one consoling a friend. We were best friends. How silly we looked, what trouble had we gotten ourselves into! We were bare-breasted, trapped in an underground dungeon with men we hardly knew, and with women who used us in wicked ways. She was clad in the smallest of panties and I was bare-hipped. Oh, girlfriend! If only we’d listened to our mothers. And yet, and yet... “SLAP!” My gaze was torn away from Larissa. The men! Bridget had slapped Walter between his legs, right on his balls. “Ouch!” Walter yelled. Erika, underneath the bench, pulled on his cock. “Milk him,” Amber, watching from behind the machine used to draw and quarter people, urged. I saw her finger working furtively in her slit. “Cum... cum in the cup,” Erika told Walter. “Now is the time to give all you have, to win the sperm-weighing contest.” Erika moaned. She drew up her knees. She was as passion-infused as I, gazing at the men in such a compromised pose. She drew her hand from Walter’s cock and excitedly frigged herself. Then, moaning again, unfilled and wishing to cum, but not yet able to, she returned her moistened fingers to Walter’s cock and pulled hard upon it. Bridget glanced at Amber, hiding behind the big machine where any of us, on a whim, might be drawn and quartered. She frowned. “If you’re going to play with yourself, you may as well milk one of the men,” Bridget said to the 12-year-old girl. “Get under the milking bench.” “Oh, noooo, they are too big,” Amber replied. She was ever wilful. Yet even as she whined that she couldn’t, she stepped out from behind the big machine where she’d been hiding. With a finger rubbing her slit, her other finger poised at her mouth, like a curious child, she advanced toward the milking bench. Bridget glared at her. Erika desisted pulling on Walter, so that a race might be run, between his cock and that of another man’s. Amber dropped to her knees. Looking very much like a small cat, she gazed at the cocks poking down through the milking bench. She sniffed, wiggling her nose. Then she crawled forward to the bench, lay down, and slipped underneath. A mechanic about to go to work on engines and pistons, I thought. She chose Jim’s cock, arguably the biggest of the lot. I felt a surge of jealousy in me. I could just see Jim, my favorite, falling for the little 12-year-old brat. Little Amber, with her too tight panties and her fetching bra (both long gone now, but still undeniably cute, in memory). She would win Jim over with her winsome ways and her childish demeanor. They would go off into a romantic sunset together, where’d they play Chutes and Ladders between wild bouts of balling. I walked forward to the bench. Amber’s long legs were sticking out from underneath it. I bent over, dropped to my knees. I looked back at Bridget and pleadingly raised up my wrists. “Please, let me milk too,” I begged. Sherry looked at Bridget. The raven-haired woman considered, then nodded. “Undo her,” Bridget told Sherry. “We shall have a three man race then.” “Thanks!” I heard Amber, under the bench, say to Erika. I guessed the 12-year-old had been given a cup to hold Jim’s sperm. Sherry walked forward, her big bosoms bouncing as she stepped, and bent down behind me. I heard a click. I wriggled my hands and felt the cuffs come apart. At last! I was a free woman again. I pulled my hands in front of me. I rubbed my wrists. “Get under and milk,” Sherry reminded me. “Yes, ma’am,” I answered. I slipped under the bench. “I’m doing Jim,” Amber said to me. “Then that means you can’t do Nick,” I answered. I pretended to sound glad of having Nick, though I was secretly quite jealous that she’d gotten hold of Jim. “Oh, I want to milk too!” I heard my friend Larissa cry. Bridget laughed. “We are all out of penises, my dear,” she answered. “Anyway there must be a prize. You still retain your panties, and look most virginal, especially with your cuffs on. You must be the prize, dear. Now be quiet or you’ll have a red bottom to go with your pretty white panties.” “Oh, me!” Larissa said. But she said no more, for none of us doubted Bridget’s delight in flagellation. “Now, men,” I heard Bridget intone. “The girls are going to do everything they can to get you to spend. Suck, yank, whatever. You must hold on as long as possible. The first to spill will have his ass paddled. The one who shoots the least amount of sperm will have himself sodomised, with an enema cone.” Bridget laughed. “And, of course, in the meantime, don’t think you can just relax and enjoy all the attention you’re going to get. I’ll be spurring your balls on, by giving them gentle, urging whacks with my wooden paddle.” “Oook! He dwipped on my nose!” Amber shouted. I glanced at her. What was she doing? Didn’t she know anything? “You must get the cup under him!” I told her. “Put the cup Erika gave you under Jim’s penis.” I reached around Amber’s head and took a cup from Erika. We were like three female gas station attendants, all ready to pump. “My cup rolled away,” Amber said. She scooted out from under the bench. She went scurrying across the floor to retrieve her cup. I shifted to my left. I would have Jim’s penis! “No, no, Barbi,” I heard Bridget warn. “I know you like Jim. Stay with Nick. You’d give Jim an easy ride, so he can shoot last. Stay with Nick and pump him hard. This must be a fair fight between the men. We’ll have no favors, save those you bestow, most lustily, with your hands and lips.” “Yes, ma’am,” I said. I felt crestfallen. Yet there was nothing I could do. Erika wouldn’t want me favoring Jim, at the expense of Nick. Little Amber scooted back under the bench and stuck her tongue out at me. “Jim’s mine!” she told me. I blushed. I felt angry. I wanted to pinch her but feared she’d just pinch back, and then we’d both be in trouble with Bridget. “Are you ready, girls?” Bridget called. “Make sure your cups are in position. Touch your cunnies as you need to, for lubrication.” Erika glanced at Amber, and at myself. “We’re ready, Bridget,” she called. “Very good. Begin,” Bridget replied. “OHHHHH!” Amber moaned, for at once she diddled in her slit, wishing to masturbate herself at least as much as she wished to frig Jim. I yanked hard on Nick’s cock and heard him yelp. “Cum,” I breathed. I blew on Nick’s penis and then fastened my lips to it and sucked it. I held my cup ready, to receive him when he spurted. Erika licked Walter as if he were a lollipop. Like milkmaids at a festival, the three of us worked the men’s dicks. I pinched Nick. I swabbed the whole length of his big cock with my tongue. I blew my hot breath upon him, hoping to make him shoot. Amber clasped Jim with her honeyed fingers and rubbed him. Up and down, up and down her little fingers moved, as if trying to pull a big worm down through the hole cut for Jim’s cock in the bench. Erika lifted her long blonde hair and rubbed it softly across Walter’s penis. “Cum,” I heard Erika urge. She liked Nick best, I think, and hoped to make Walter lose. In the same way I, liking Jim best, hoped to make Nick lose. And little Amber, not caring for any man in particular, simply enjoyed the challenge of giving a man’s cock a vigorous workout. “THWACK!” I heard. Bridget had landed her paddle upon one of the men’s balls. I heard him groan as his testicles felt the shock of wood upon flesh. “THWACK!” Another man received a blow to his balls. “THWACK!” I felt Nick flinch in my hands and heard him moan. Bridget had given him a taste of her paddle. “Ohhh, such a harsh smack!” I heard Sherry exclaim. Spontaneously, responding to the pained groans of the men, she dropped to her knees behind Jim. She knelt and put her soft lips to his balls. At the same time, so that he wasn’t primed to shoot before the rest, she reached out, spreading her arms, and clasped in her soft hands the balls of Walter and Nick. I felt Nick’s cock jerk in my hands as he was forced to endure the soft ministrations of Sherry’s fingers upon his nuts. Sherry must have felt him jerk too, for she asked, in a rather mocking tone of voice, “Mmmmm, yes, does that make your big balls feel better?” “WHACK!” I heard, and Jim flinched again, but I found he’d not been struck, for it was Sherry who let out a moan. “Get your fat ass out of the way,” Bridget scolded the big-breasted blonde. “You can attend to them later, after they’ve each shot their load.” “Ohhh, I was just trying to be helpful!” Sherry said. I heard her voice break into a sob. She rose, retreated. Bridget ruled us all. She was not to be crossed. Somewhere beyond I heard Larissa give a plaintive moan. It was half desperate, as if she wished to cum, and half frightened, too, fearing Bridget and what would happen to her when she was awarded as a prize to the winning man. For my own part, sucking cock, I was too lost in desire to care for her fate, or my own. I played in my slit and, finding my fingers moist, applied them to Nick’s cock. We were three bell-hipped maidens, Erika and Amber and I, all with wettened cunts, eager to please ourselves and, naughtily, to make the men shoot into our special crystal cups. Above me I heard Nick groan. Then Jim, then Nick again, and finally Walter. The men strove to restrain themselves. I could tell, though, as Nick’s penis quavered hotly over my face, that he was rapidly losing his self control. I glanced at Jim’s cock, poised over Amber’s face. Yes, he looked unbearably swollen and stiff, stiffer even than when I first slid under the bench. He looked to be on the brink of cumming. I prayed he might hang on. I wished him to win. Somewhere I heard a man scream. Then, seconds later, Erika let out a whoop of joy. I glanced to one side and saw white sperm spurt from Walter’s cock. He’d lost! My heart sang. Jim would not have to suffer a sharp, cone-shaped enema shoved up his butt. I yanked hard on Nick’s member. Come on, Nick. Shoot your load into my face, so that Jim, my love, can triumph over all the men. “YEEEEEK!” Amber shrieked. I turned my head. To my horror, I saw that Jim was spurting. Worse, Amber hadn’t got her cup under him. He showered her face with sperm. It spewed across her nose, her eyes, her cheeks. Foolishly the girl tried catching it on her lips. Still, the cup remained lying between her breasts, quite empty, sperm spouting everywhere but where she was supposed to be catching it. “The cup!” I cried to Amber. “Catch him in your cup!” “Ooook! I can’t! There’s too much of him,” Amber answered. Her voice sounded burbled, as one trying to speak under water. Indeed, she looked like she was taking a shower, there was so much cum spurting suddenly from Jim’s dick. It lathered her face and fell into sticky clumps into her soft blonde hair. “Oh, my! You’ll make him lose!” I wailed. I grabbed her cup from between her small 12-year-old tits and rammed it up under Jim’s penis. “Whew! Thanks! I was drowding,” Amber said. I glared at her. “You were only drowning because you didn’t have your cup ready,” I told her. “It’s not my fault. His penis is too big. I need to handle a penis of someone my own age, if I’m to control it properly,” Amber said. “He’s a growed man, with a growed man’s penis. I’m too little to handle it properly.” I was about to speak a reply, scolding her, when suddenly a shower of sperm erupted from the penis over my face. “Nick!” I cried. I was aghast. I’d been busy with Amber’s cup. I hadn’t even been touching him! Perhaps our words, perhaps Amber’s saucy comments, had inspired him to cum. I grabbed for my cup. Amber saw my predicament and laughed. I managed to get my cup under Nick’s cock. I held it there as he discharged. “You didn’t do any better than me,” Amber said. “Shut up,” I answered. Wet-fingered, with dewy slits, Erika and Amber and I emerged from beneath the milking bench. We gave our cups to Bridget. She scolded Amber. The 12-year-old’s face was drenched in sperm, yet she had caught none of Jim’s cum in her cup. Amber repeated her excuse that she was too little to handle a “growed man’s” penis. I gave what I had to Bridget, blushing. Nick had caught me off guard. “Well, I can see this won’t be much of a contest,” Bridget said, looking at our cups. “Thanks to Erika’s expert handling, it looks as if Walter has won. He’s given the most sperm... the most that I can measure, anyway,” she said. She glanced at Amber. The sperm-soaked girl flushed and gazed down over her breasts at her toes. Cum from Jim’s cock ran from her cheeks down her neck to her chest, then on to her bosoms. It dripped off the nippled tips of her mammaries to speckle her feet. Bridget had three gold-colored pans waiting next to her scale. Carefully she poured what she could from each cup into a pan. Then, in turn, she weighed each pan on her scale. “Yep, Walter’s the winner in the content department,” Bridget said. “But he came first. So in addition to getting Larissa for his prize, he gets this cone-shaped enema up his butt.” “No way,” Walter protested. He made to rise from his kneeling position over the bench. With his cock deflated, he was no longer trapped. “Down, boy!” Bridget shouted. Her high-pitched commaned was accompanied by a swift crack of the paddle across Walter’s behind. “Yeeeehooo!” Walter shouted. Amber, gazing on him, clutched her own bottom, perhaps in memory of her own contact with the paddle. “Sherry, help me lube his bottom,” Bridget told the frail blonde with the big curls. “Yes, ma’am,” Sherry answered. She fetched a tube of lubrication and advanced on the big man. She knelt down behind him. She patted the cheeks of his ass with her soft palm. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt *too* much,” Sherry said. I couldn’t tell if her soft voice had a note of mockery in it. I shivered. Amber kept her hands clapped to her bottom, lest someone get the same idea for her. Being enemized placed Walter in a special category. He could no longer walk around the dungeon with bare-bottomed impunity. A solid enema dissolves in the rectum and makes one shit intermittantly for hours. It was for this reason that, once the enema had been shoved up his behind, Walter was diapered. Amber couldn’t stop giggling at seeing the man so attired. Bridget used cloth diapers on him, with traditional pins. She powdered his hairy ass with baby powder before pinning the diapers on him. Walter groused, disliking the merriment his predicament gave us. But in the end he took his punishment like a soldier and, though he looked quite ridiculous, I found I admired his sportsmanship. Another man, big as he was, might have simply refused. But Walter wore his diapers like a trooper, and when the men were all uncuffed, he didn’t try to disrobe himself. My only regret, looking upon him, was that when he became hard again, his dick bulged in concealment beneath the diaper cloth, rather than standing up freely as Nick and Jim’s penises did. Larissa, cuffed and collared and retaining still her white panties, was presented to Walter. He grinned, kissed her, and told her she would be “balled to Heaven and back again” when his cock resuscitated itself. She blushed, modestly, for which I was most proud of her, given how much she’d been dying to finger herself during the men’s milking. Walter put a hand to her pussy and rubbed her, gently, to keep her wet and ready. In the event, when he did reawaken, he held off fucking her, for he would soon be making poop in his diapers and didn’t want to spoil their fuck together by shitting on her. Jim and myself and Bridget and Amber and the rest of us retreated to the soothing waters of the jacuzzi for a well-deserved soak. Walter sat outside, on a wooden bench, watching us. Larissa, still in her white panties, sat beside him. He stroked her long hair. She sat submissive, her head bowed, her hands still fastened behind her back. Yet I perceived that she was looking mainly at his crotch, and watching as it began to bulge. “Go ahead and poop in your diapers, when you feel the need,” Bridget told Walter. “Sherry or I will change you.” “Fine. Whatever,” Walter answered. “I still think it was a stupid idea to ram an enema up my ass.” “Nonsense. You look very cute in them,” Bridget said. “Yeah. All you need is a pacifier,” Amber giggled. “Amber, don’t tease,” Bridget told the 12-year-old. “You look barely big enough to be out of diapers yourself.” “What?!” Amber cried. I put my arm around her small, frail shoulders. I pressed my body close to hers, in the jacuzzi. The water was warm. I liked the bubbles. They lifted my breasts and kept the tips of my nipples perky. “Shhhh. Be good,” I said to Amber. She turned her face to me. I expected her to scold me, but instead she kissed my cheek. “I like you,” Amber said. I think the jaccuzzi was making her amorous, for I felt her hand slip between my thighs and rub my snatch. “Amber!” I cried. I jumped. I had not expected her to molest me. “You do mine and I’ll do yours,” Amber offered. She rubbed me more deeply. “Ohhhh, it is--” I glanced at Bridget. “It is alright,” Bridget replied. She moved and, I thought, passed her own hand across the belly of Sherry, sitting beside her. Sherry, her eyes closed, started, then seemed to widen her legs beneath the bubbling water. “Mmmmm,” Sherry said. She let her long lashes flutter closed again. “Let us play,” Bridget smiled at me. “And don’t forget, you two, there are still bottom-exercises for you to perform, before we leave.” “Oh I don’t want things rammed up my ass,” Amber said. “Me neither,” I answered. I felt her tummy. I dipped lower, found her snatch. I played in her tight private. “Yeeeech!” Amber gritted. It was a sound of pleasure, however, and she opened her legs more completely, to receive me. “Say, you have quite a big one,” Nick said to Jim. “Yours is no slouch either,” Jim answered. I felt my eyes widen. Still diddling Amber, I glanced over my shoulder. My God! Were Jim and Nick feeling each others’ cocks, under the water? “Yes, let us relax and enjoy,” Bridget said. She looked through lidded eyes at Erika. “You, my dear, are one out, in our new little game.” “Not if I suck your tits,” Erika answered. She moved close to the woman. She grasped at the woman’s bosoms where they floated on the water, and bent to nuzzle them. “Come and play with us!” Jim told Erika. “No,” Erika answered, placing her lips to Bridget’s tits. “You men play with each other for a change. It is good to see you men peaceful, for once, and molesting each other. Explore your cocks together and let us girls play with each other.” And that is just what happened. We girls diddled and kissed each other while the men felt each other. It was pleasant, I thought, my soft sighs joining those of the others as I was brought to a climax. My own fingers, digging deep in Amber’s tight snatch, brought her off. Bridget and Erika and Sherry played with each other. And the men, frigging each other with their calloused palms, shot new loads of cum into the hot, bubbling water. Walter, meanwhile, put Larissa over his lap. He entertained us by giving her a spanking. She cried, we sighed. It was most unusual but quite fulfilling, except perhaps for Larissa who was left with a red bottom. Walter did, however, rub her pussy with his free hand. She exploded in a series of loud orgasms even as his palm flayed her bare ass. When all was done, when everyone had shivered and spent, Bridget asked Walter if he’d pooped in his diapers yet. “Yeah. While I was spanking her,” Walter answered. “ICK! I can smell him,” Amber said, holding her nose. “Be polite, Amber,” Bridget told the girl. “Else I’ll make you change his diapers.” “NOOOO!” Amber cried. She leapt from the hot tub and scurried off into the dungeon. Later, as we still sat soaking, enjoying the bubbles, Bridget spied Amber heading for the dungeon’s exit. “Don’t leave, dear, without permission,” Bridget warned the girl. “There’s much in here you’ve not been put upon, and the men would love nothing more than a girl who legitimately needs to be tortured.” “Oh, me!” Amber cried. She cast a worried glance back at us, hesistated by the dungeon’s exit, and then ran and threw herself upon the big bed. Bridget smiled at the men. They smiled at her. “Pity she didn’t run off,” Nick said. I cast a worried glance at him. Did he really mean it? Would he really have liked to see her tortured? For real? I couldn’t tell, and looked at the empty place beside me where Amber had been sitting. I wavered between going to the bed and joining her, and staying in the jacuzzi. I liked Amber. Sometimes I regarded her as nothing but a childish brat, but at the moment I liked her. We’d had fun together. It had been naughty fun, diddling each others’ slits, but it had been permitted, down here in the dungeon, and we’d enjoyed each other to the full. I could still feel her kisses on my cheeks. She was sweet. I suspected she’d peed in the jaccuzzi, while she sat beside me, but I liked her nonetheless. I let myself float in the warm water. It lifted my young breasts and made a present of them on the water’s surface, for whoever wished to possess them. Sherry floated over to me and, in what I considered a compliment, considering the beauty of her own breasts, she nibbled like a fish upon mine. I swooned. Bridget and Erika finished fulfilling each other; Erika got out and served us drinks. When I came into possession of myself again, I was still in the tub, with a flute of champagne in my hand that I could only barely remember being given by Erika. Sherry had one too. She snuggled close to me. She put her glass to my lips and made me sip from it. She urged me to return the compliment. I did. She drank from my glass as a child might, spilling a little. I felt motherly, yet childish at the same time, for after she drank from my glass I drank from hers again, and spilled some on my bouyant tits. The men, normally utterly masculine, continued to frisk each others’ genitals beneath the water. They’d already induced each other to cum once. Now they were playing at it again, a game of chicken, “can I make you shoot before you make me shoot.” Of course, the rub was, neither of them really wanted to cum, despite their desire, for they could only spend themselves so many times before they’d be useless to us girls. I let my eyes drift over to Larissa. Someone had pulled Walter’s cock from his diapers and bathed it in champagne to make it sparkling clean. Larissa was perched on his knee. She had quite a red bottom from the spanking he’d given her. Yet her face was pressed to his, and her mouth was opened worshipfully to his. He fed in her mouth with his tongue. I could hear Amber singing a song. She was hiding under the covers of the big bed that awaited us all, should we choose to make use of it. Walter took his mouth from Larissa’s and whispered something in her ear. She nodded. She slipped down from his lap. He rose, his cock heavy and thick with desire. She took a towel from a big pile and laid it upon the floor. She looked up at him. He nodded. She knelt on the towel and bent forward until her face made contact with the floor. “Oh, God,” I heard Bridget say. It was a sigh of desire. I felt a quiver run down my spine. What was to happen? Larissa was kneeling, quite submissively, her bottom reared up high in the air as if she wished to be mounted. Was she pretending to be a horse? Walter did not sit himself on her rump. Instead, he knelt down behind her. His big cock bounced off the hemispheres of her ass. Larissa wiggled. She scrunched her knees closer to her tits as she knelt, so that her ass thrust even higher into the air. It was almost level with Walter’s waist. Erika, who’d just served Amber a drink, set down her tray and came running over to where Larissa was kneeling. “Oh, you must both be properly lubed,” Erika said. She placed a finger upon Walter’s shoulder. “Wait,” she said. Then she dashed over to a small table where oils and unguents and condoms lay in a pretty display. She returned with a large squirt tube of petroleum jelly. “This will do,” she said. As I watched, she squeezed the tube with both of her hands, aiming it at Walter’s penis. A gob of jelly squirted out. It decorated his pee hole. Then Erika passed the tube up and down along Walter’s cock. When she was finished his organ glistened with goop. It looked as if she’d varnished it. Erika leaned forward and placed a long, loving kiss on Walter’s mouth. Her bare breasts rubbed against his chest. “Now for her hole,” Erika said, breaking their kiss. She spoke of Larissa as if she were nothing but an upturned ass. She put a palm to Larissa’s right bottomcheek. Lightly she rubbed it. Larissa gave a sigh. Then Erika yanked hard on the cheek, pulling it away from the other. Larissa yelped, but Erika paid her no attention. Instead she jammed the tip of the squirt bottle into Larissa’s hiney and gave a vigorous squeeze on the tube. “Ooooh!” Larissa squealed. She raised her face, looked at me with blank eyes. Then she settled her face back on the floor. Erika jabbed a finger within the tightness of Larissa’s bottom. My friend jerked, sqealed again, but accepted the finger, finally, letting it work in her hole and widen her for Walter’s entry. I had no illusions now about what was to happen. My girlfriend was, indeed, to be ridden, but in the way a man rides a woman to victory, his cock hard, deep-thrusting, her body receiving him in the most intimate orifice she has. Sherry rubbed my muff and then passed her hand around behind me and felt my own bottom. “You’re next,” she whispered merrily in my ear. I felt a thrill of delight, mixed with intense fright. “I cannot!” I breathed. I knew of what she spoke. The sawhorses, with one end elevated above the other, waiting with pricks upstanding from the lower end of each horse. Sherry’s index finger wedged itself between the cheeks of my bottom. “You must,” she answered. I didn’t know what to do. I let her dig more deeply within my ass, gave a sharp, gutteral cry as she pushed hard inside me. “Have you?” I heard Jim say to Nick. “It’s a simple question.” “Have I what?” Nick answered. “You know,” Jim said. He seemed to be trying to wedge himself behind the male who floated in the hot tub beside him. “You mean--?” Nick asked. “Yeah,” Jim said. “No way,” Nick said. He pulled away from Jim and sat squarely on the submerged bench lining the inside of the tub. “Not with a man, anyway. Maybe someday with a girl.” “Girls don’t have dicks,” Jim grinned. “Well, she can put on a fake one then,” Nick answered. “Gentlemen, are you speaking of sodomy?” Bridget asked. “He is. I’m not,” Nick answered. He nodded toward Jim. I felt myself blush, even as Sally worked her finger deeper in my bottom. Oh, how embarrassing this all was! Me being fingered intimately by a female, as my love, Jim, made untoward advances on Nick. Anyplace but here, we wouldn’t have acted in such a ridiculous way. But here, things were free. People could follow their fancy wherever it might lead. “Oh, don’t!” I yelped. Sherry kissed my cheek, but kept her finger up me. Jim looked in our direction. “What are you two doing over there?” he asked. He frowned. I felt myself blush even more deeply. “None of your business, dear. Yet--” Sherry smiled. She winked at him. He grinned. “Keeping her hot for me, eh?” Jim asked. “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Sherry said. “Play with your penis a little longer. We’re not quite ready for you yet.” “Okay,” Jim said. He settled back on the bench in the jacuzzi and freely handled himself. I couldn’t see directly, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out. He gave a sigh, his arm worked beneath the water. “Don’t shoot though,” Sherry warned. “Alright,” Jim sighed. Nick relaxed next to his friend and began masturbating his own organ. Sherry jabbed deeper into me. I squealed. The men, Bridget, Sherry, and Erika laughed. All but Larissa, who was getting fingered within her bottom by Erika. And Amber, who lay rabbit-like beneath the covers of the big bed. “Ooooh, no one will screw by bottom!” Amber called from beneath the covers where she was hiding. Erika withdrew her finger from Larissa’s behind. She turned to Walter. She gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Alright, darling, put yourself in her,” Erika said to Walter. He tensed. It would be a job, I realized, shoving himself up my friend, not spending, despite her tightness, sluicing in and out of her until, after an appropriate interval, he was allowed by the protocol of the act to spend. We would be watching, even me, with Sherry’s finger up my ass, and we would all be judging his performance. Larissa had only to receive, and endure. Walter had to perform. He had to show himself a well-controlled man. A thought occurred to me. In their riding, was she the steed, or was he? It rather seemed to me, as I watched his muscles contract, as I saw him mount her, and begin to take her, that Walter might be the faithful, obdient horse, made to run a set course. Larissa might be, despite her subordinate position, the rider. She was riding his cock with her bottom. She might, indeed, squeeze upon him and control him, if she had the skill (which I doubted). He would serve. She would be serviced. Larissa shouted. Her face bolted up. She tried to rise. Walter gripped her manfully with his hands, by her hips. Shoving his own hips forward, he stabbed into the softness of her behind. She accepted his organ with the greatest of difficulty. He was large. She was small-bottomed and only 13. I shivered, watching it. Sherry’s finger, up my ass, held itself in me like a wicked promise. Amber peeped from under the bedcovers and watched as the obscene act progressed. Larissa was taken; brutally, I thought, though she didn’t bleed afterward. Walter humped her like a mad horse. She cried beneath him, yet kept her bottom valiantly upraised, receiving him, sighing and jerking and screaming under his assault. Nick and Jim watched from the sidelines. They used their own fists, within the warm water of the jaccuzzi, to imitate the clenching of Larissa’s bottomcheeks upon their cocks. I watched, breathless, Sherry’s finger still in me, moving slightly, making me take more of her as we watched together. Bridget sipped her drink. She looked content. Everything that was happening met with her approval. Erika fetched more champagne and refilled all our glasses. Time floated on, accompanied by the pained cries of Larissa receiving Walter up her ass. Afterward she rejoined us in the jacuzzi. Erika changed Walter’s diapers. She washed down his bottom with champagne. “How was it?” I asked Larissa. She snuggled between myself and Sherry in the tub. Sherry’s finger was no longer in my bottom; she’d withdrawn it when Larissa had finished jousting with Walter. Larissa bit her lip. “It was... it was big,” she said. “It hurt.” “But not too much?” Sherry asked. Larissa nodded. “Not so much I couldn’t bear it,” Larissa said, in what I regarded as a slightly pained voice. Sherry kissed her cheek. “Good,” Sherry said. Amber had gotten out of the bed. She went exploring in the dungeon. A little while after Larissa had gotten butt-fucked, the girl came wandering up to Bridget, who soaked still in the jacuzzi, with the rest of us. Amber was holding up a large dildo. She showed it to Bridget. “Look what I found,” she told the raven-haired woman. We all gazed at the dildo. I saw that it had threads at its base, as if to permit it to be screwed into something. Bridget sipped her drink. She regarded the mostrous object with casual eyes. “It looks like it belongs to something bigger,” she told Amber. “Where did you find it? You shouldn’t be taking the equipment apart without permission.” “I didn’t unscrew it from anything. It was just lying under a big machine,” Amber answered. “It and a whole lot of other ones, bigger and smaller. Just like this one. Plus pieces of wood,” Amber said. Bridget looked at Jim. He looked at Nick. “Something we overlooked?” Jim asked Nick. “Who knows? There’s all kinds of shit down here,” Walter, lying on the floor with Erika, kissing her, answered. He was wearing a fresh pair of diapers. His old pair laid crumpled in a corner, waiting to be taken upstairs. “Let me go see,” Erika said. She got up. “Hey!” Walter cried. He lifted his arm. He tried to grab her and keep her beside him. But he was slow. She was quick. She darted away, her bosoms bouncing, her hips waggling in a sexy display both of invitation and disdain. “Show me where you found the dildo, darling,” Erika told Amber. “Okay,” Amber said. I pressed my cheek to Larissa’s. My hand rubbed her tummy. The waters of the jaccuzzi bubbled around us. “There are too many penises down here already, and Amber’s busy finding more,” I said to Larissa. “I know,” Larissa agreed. She kissed my cheek. We were best friends. Sherry floated nearby. We excluded her by snuggling so close to each other. ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd,’ I thought ruefully, for I didn’t like it that Sherry had put her finger up my ass. Let her go put her finger up Bridget’s ass, if she wished to entertain herself that way. “Oh, my!” I heard Erika shout, from deep in the dungeon. “Amber’s found a whole ‘nother group of sawhorses... disassembled sawhorses,” Erika called out. Bridget perked up. Her face brightened. “In that case,” Bridget said, twirling her flute of champagne in her fingers. “In that case we can have a race!” She darted her eyes to mine. “Noooo,” I said. I sank low in the jaccuzzi and tried to hide from her eyes behind my friend, Larissa. We lay on the big bed. Just Amber and me, our hips bumping as we watched. I was on my tummy. She was also. We were nude. Our hair, toweled dry, fanned across our backs in long, blonde strands. Erika sat on the edge of the bed. She brushed our hair. Our naked bottoms stuck up behind us like ripe peaches. The men, naked and toweled dry like ourselves, worked to set up the second group of trestles. They set it up beside the first group so Amber and I could have a race. I wasn’t fond of the idea and neither, I think, was Amber. But it was fun watching the men. They grunted, their muscles flexed, as they arranged the trestles for us. The pieces of wood were big and heavy. Their tops were covered with leather. They had to be set up, polished, the dildos installed. Sherry waxed the leather part of each trestle as it was set up. She passed a feather duster over the wooden parts. As each dildo was screwed into place, she oiled it. Erika groomed myself and Amber. We were powdered, perfumed. Lipstick was applied to our lips. Eyeliner to our eyes. We must look our very best, Erika said, for our race. Even if it was a race where we would be mounting dildos with our bottoms. Amber shivered beside me. She looked pretty, all lipsticked and mascared. She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “I’m scared,” she confessed. “I am too,” I answered. “Nonsense, there’s nothing to be scared of,” Erika scolded, brushing our hair. “It’s good for girls to exercise their bottoms. You’re both young... you need the training.” Erika was slim and althetic and skilled with men. I wondered if she had mounted the trestles, on another day, guessed she had. She was adept at all things, especially in the realm of sex. Bridget supervised the men. She cast glances at us, too, keeping Amber and me in our place. We must be obedient. I gazed at the men’s cocks as they worked. They were erect, stiff; like the dildos. Their balls swung between their legs like churchbells. When the trestles were all set up and gleamed in waiting, Bridget beckoned Amber and I off the bed. Only a slap from Erika’s hand, on our upturned bottoms, got us moving. We lined up next to the bed and Bridget gazed down at us. Our titties hung nakedly on our chests, tips upstanding, but she ignored them. She gazed at our bushes, then walked behind us and looked at our asses. “You both have plump, firm behinds and its time you learned how to really use them,” Bridget told us. “You must learn to take things up them, for that is what men desire of young bottoms like yours. But first, we shall do some exercises, to help you both stretch yourselves, and prepare your pumpkins for what must follow. Attend, girls!” Amber and I were led over to a space that had been cleared just for the purpose. Soft towels covered the floor. A chair for each of us stood near the towels. We were collared, but otherwise free. Even our leashes had been removed. We walked with a precise step, conscious of our bodies. I felt pride in my figure. I was slim, yet fatted where men desire it, on my bottom, my hips, within the round gourds of my bosoms. Amber had puppy fat on her but was otherwise slim, like myself. “First you’ll both do splits, girls,” Bridget told us. “I can do better than that. I can do a cartwheel!” Amber offered. “Just splits, my sweet little one,” Bridget said. She swung her jewelled crop at the girl. “Do as I say. Okay?” “Okay,” Amber answered. She let her head hang a little, then said, looking up, “But I don’t want to mount those wicked trestles!” “No back talk,” Bridget replied. “Both of you, down on the floor! Wait--” she said. “Turn around. I’ll lube your bottoms first, so you get used to what must follow.” “Ohhhh, but I--!” Amber protested. Bridget grabbed the girl by her ear. She spun her about. She made her kneel before one of the chairs. I did not wish to have my ear grabbed and so knelt before my own chair of my own accord. “Bring me the KY jelly,” Bridget told Erika. “Yes, ma’am,” Erika answered. We were made to offer our bottoms. We knelt with our faces pressed into the seat of the chairs, where our bottoms should have rested, and our knees on the floor. The chairs were made of sturdy wood and offered little comfort. The stone floor lay under my knees. It was hard to kneel upon. Erika saw to me. Bridget saw to Amber. The men gathered round us, stood over us, their cocks standing upright with rigid excitement. My hair fell over my eyes as Erika eased apart the cheeks of my bottom. She’d brushed my long locks. Now she was attending to my naked arse. I tensed my knees. I jerked forward. I tried to avoid her. Erika stuck her finger up between my bare cheeks. She whispered to me to be still. I felt her digit, greased with KY, upon my rosette. Sherry laughed. “Put it right in! I gave her as much in the jaccuzzi, with no KY at all!” Sherry urged. It was true. I blushed. My bottom’s own excitement at being felt, however unwillingly, had eased her earlier passage. Now I was being felt again, in the most private of places. Erika stabbed at me and I shrieked. Amber, kneeling beside me, surrendered a cry of her own. We were forced to receive. Erika’s finger felt like a long, thin penis as it snaked up my ass. It pushed the air from my lungs, making me gasp. I tightened upon it, tried to resist. Erika warned me to be more receptive. Bridget’s cat was ever ready, to punish disobedience. Amber screamed. She tried to rise. One of the men bent over and held her down. Bridget worked her finger in the girl. “Ah, how divine your bottom is, my dear,” Bridget told the girl. “So tight, and with such a glow of warmth! Do the boys at your school compliment your bottom?” “A-- A likkle,” Amber answered. Her breath rushed from her lungs. She gasped in more. She sighed. Bridget rotated her finger, pushed harder. Amber emitted a high-pitched shriek. Then, curiously, just when I thought the girl might try again to spring up, she balled her bottom. Dipping her back as much as she could, she bent her thighs. With a moan she reared her ass back upon Bridget’s finger. “Ahhhh, yes!” Bridget said. She complimented the girl with a quick kiss upon her cheek. “That’s it-- work your pretty little rump upon my finger. Take it. Take it all-- take all of me up your ass!” “Oooooh! I can’t!” Amber whined. Yet even as she protested she bumped her ass back again, like a bitch in heat, seeking to impale herself on the full length of Bridget’s digit. I was urged to do the same. “Thrust back your fanny,” Erika urged me. “Don’t make me do all the work. Offer your bottom, twist it upon my finger.” And she rotated her finger in my channel, to inspire me. “Oh! Oh!” I moaned. I couldn’t, didn’t wish to accomodate her, yet I felt my ass buck backward. Her finger pushed in me more deeply and I screamed. “That’s it,” Erika said. My bosoms swung nakedly under me. My smooth tummy drew in, tightly, making my hips appear to flare even more. I was a bell-hipped maiden, having my bottom opened. I felt my cunny moisten. But all Erika’s attention stayed on my asshole. She dug into it, her hands prying at my cheeks. Her finger oiled me deeply, preparing me for what was to come. Moistened and ready, we exercised. We did splits upon the soft towels that had been laid out on the floor for us. The men stared at our bare legs. They watched our boobs bounce as we worked. Bridget made us perch on the edge of our chairs and lift and separate our legs. We showed our cunnies to the men. They licked their lips, watching, staring into our slits. Bridget had us do dips. We placed our hands on the edges of our chairs. Then we elevated our bottoms up and down in front of our chairs. As I felt my bottomcheeks open, doing a dip, I imagined the treste’s hard cocks sliding up me. The phalluses on the trestles stood waiting, gleaming with oil, as Amber and I prepared ourselves to take them. We did sit ups. We did tummy crunchers. We stood up and did jumping jacks, letting our bosoms swing and bounce freely, to the delight of the men. My gym teacher would have scolded me for doing jumping jacks without my bra on, but she wasn’t here. It was just myself, and the wicked men, and women who would have made Marie Antoinette blush. “Very good. You are both ready now,” Bridget said to us at last. “Ohhhh! I don’t want to take those big things up my bottom!” Amber wailed. We were breathless from our exercising. Our bosoms heaved upon our chests, full and round and soft. Our nipples stuck up like thorns. Our smooth tummies sighed, drew in with fright at the prospect of what lay ahead. Our cunnies, though, wettened, excited by the prospect of being forced to accomodate such large cocks. With tensing bottoms we were led over to the sawhorses. I was placed in front of one row; Amber before the other. I gazed at the line of cocks that stood waiting for me. The closest one was small, a boy’s size. But the cocks rapidly grew bigger, until the one at the end was bigger in fact than a man’s, more like that of a mule. With a delicate finger I reached out an touched the tip of the nearest penis. “Must-- must we take them up our *bottoms*?” I asked, turning to Erika. “Yes, dear,” Erika smiled. She offered me a flute of champagne. “Drink. It will be easier if you’re pleasantly drunk,” she said. I took the glass from her. I studied it a moment, wondered if I should try to get myself drunk, then decided it was best. I swallowed down the whole glass, eagerly. She held a bottle and poured me more. I drank again, another full glass. Beside me Amber was served, by Bridget. She gulped down a glassful, then another. “Very good, you are both ready now,” Bridget said. She waved Erika away. I wished for more champagne but Bridget didn’t want me too drunk, she said. “You must not lose your senses entirely, my dear,” Bridget said. “It is a contest. A race. You must strive to use your body to win.” “Yes,” I answered. I did not know what else to say. I looked at Amber. She stood contemplating the big line of pricks before her with a finger placed in her mouth. She sucked upon her finger. Suddenly I reached over and pulled her finger from her lips. She squealed. I put her finger in my mouth and sucked hard upon it. “Oh, we must fuck ourselves on the cocks!” I gasped, when Erika finally managed to pluck Amber’s finger from between my lips. “Yes, and get going! Don’t just stand around thinking about it,” Bridget scolded. “There will be a punishment for the loser.” She lifted up her cat. She let its thongs trail with sparkling fire before our eyes. It was a beautiful implement, I thought, with its stiff handle and long, sinewy thongs, each tipped with a gem. But I didn’t wish to be punished with it. Not again. I didn’t want to have to ‘admire’ it with my bare ass. “Ready, girls?” Bridget asked. Reluctantly Amber and I looked at her. I felt myself cringe. Her eyes were like steel, hard and implacable. We nodded. “On the count of three, then,” Bridget said. “Pity I don’t have a whistle. One, two...” She paused. One of the men, wicked as ever, had found a whistle. He handed it to her. The whistle had a cord. Bridget slung the whistle’s cord around her neck. Bridget had stripped off her stockings and gloves and neckerchief to soak in the jaccuzzi, and had left them off, when she got out. She was as naked as we were. Yet she retained her air of authority. She gazed at us with eyes that knew how to command, and expected obedience. She lifted the whistle to her lips. It gave her a certain dignity. She tossed her black hair back over her shoulder. She sucked on the whistle daintily a moment. Then she blew on it. Hard. “TWEEEET!” At the whistle’s blare, both Amber and I remained motionless, for a moment, save for the nervous huddling of the cheeks of our bottoms. Then, suddenly, Amber leapt forward. I followed. She grabbed the front of the nearest trestle. I did the same. She gazed down at the boy-sized prick at the end of the trestle nearest her. She licked her lips. Then, squatting, straddling the leather-topped trestle, she sat down. But it was an awkward sort of sitting, for she had to poise her bottom over the upstanding cock. She screamed as she felt it touch her anus. Then, recovering herself, still poised over the cock that would bring her denoument, she licked her lips again. Watching her, I found myself similarly poised, my thighs opened over the trestle, its prong reaching up between the halves of my bottom. Breathing rapidly, visibly frightened, Amber pressed her bottom downward. She let out a new scream as she felt the hard cock urge itself up through the ring of her anus. I heard a scream echo hers, realized it was mine. Oh, it was going up me! I was doing it to myself! I couldn’t believe I was ass-fucking myself on a trestle, in front of a group of people. And it was a race, I reminded myself. There was a punishment waiting for the girl who finished last. I glanced fearfully at Bridget’s crop. She swung it aimlessly beside her thigh. She gazed at me with expectant eyes. I pushed my bottom down harder. Amber shrieked as she felt the dildo ram up her ass. I squealed loudly. The thing stretched my bottom. It made me feel full, as if I had to expel a turd. I bit my lip and thrust my hips lower. The big fake penis moved with greater pressure up inside me. It seemed to split me. I gasped. Oh, I couldn’t take it! And then suddenly I realized I was taking it, right to the hilt, for my thighs pressed upon the cool leather of the trestle. “Three strokes apiece,” Bridget said. “Up and down three times each, before you get off.” She advanced behind Amber and myself. She stood over us and watched. She pressed a finger to each of our shoulders. She made us each work our tushies up and down three times on the cocks. It was difficult work, but somehow I managed it. I tried to think of my Jim and pretend it was him. Yet he was bigger, I knew. When I was through I lifted my bottom carefully off the fake cock. I heard a small oiled ‘pop!’ as my rectum broke free of it. Then I dismounted and raced ahead to the next one. “Ohhhh! She’s winning!” Amber, who’d been slower at shafting the cock under her, cried. She lifted up her ass. “One more stroke for you,” Bridget told the girl. She pressed a finger hard upon Amber’s shoulder. “Ohhh, me! It’s not fair! I’ll lose!” Amber wailed. Somehow she mangaged to squat again, taking the cock a third time, despite her intense misgivings. Then she was up and off the wicked thing, and running forward, to receive the next. It was bigger than the last and she eyed it with apprehension. She glanced over at me. I was already sinking down onto mine, though with difficultly. It felt like a big man’s cock but it was still boyish in size; a teenage boys’s size as opposed to the size of a little boy, as the previous one had been. My pink-tipped, heavy white bosoms bounced on my chest. I felt myself sink lower. The cock was quite greasy. It was hard to keep it out, once you were upon it. Yet my cheeks were taut, perfect in their roundness and in their youthful tightness. It was an obscene contest, a big fake prick against my small, soft girlish bottom. I felt my springy cheeks open to it, gradually. I gasped as each inch of it forced itself into me. I surrendered to it. Up my passage it went, stripping me of all modesty in the process, leaving me a well-fucked whore. I felt myself sweating. Did I look beautiful to the men, wearing my lipstick, my mascara, with my hair prettily glossed by the brush, yet with a big prick forcing its way up my bottom? “Oh, I can feel it in my tummy!” Amber cried. I glanced over at her. She was upon the penis, taking it hard up her ass. To ease her passage she reached down between her legs and diddled her slit. “Yes!” I realized. We must masturbate, if we’re to be receptive and open. I grabbed the cheeks of my bottom and yanked them apart, hoping to glide down more thoroughly onto the penis. Then, with one hand, I reached around to my front, and patted my bared muff. ‘Please, God,’ I prayed. ‘Make me take this cock in my bottom as eagerly as I’d take it up my cunt.’ It worked. With a gasp of pleasure, I took the fake cock to the hilt. It split my bottomcheeks and I ground my ass in triumph upon it. At the same time I petted my muff, and felt it wetten the leather underneath me. Then I was up, down, up again, and then down and (quite carefully) up and off the second cock. I raced to the third. Amber wailed out again that she would lose, if Bridget didn’t let her cheat and leave the second cock behind without doing the three necessary humpings on it. The third cock was almost man-sized. I glanced at the real men around me as I mounted it. I found the going rough; it split open my ass cheeks like a big bone. Yet somehow I managed to get it within me. It pierced my sphincter. I cried out. I pulled apart my bottomcheeks to try to make the downward movement easier. Then, bending my knees more fully, I began the inexorable ride down its length. Amber joined me a moment later. Spreading her legs, she took to the trestle beside mine. With a pained cry, she mounted the cock. She rubbed her muff furiously. “Spread your cheeks!” I told her. She was silly to try to take the thing without pulling open her bottom, I thought. She glanced at me and I demonstrated. She reached behind herself, pulled apart her bottom, and sank down. “OOOOOH! It’s going up me!” Amber wailed. “Very good,” Bridget said, behind her. “You’ve almost got three out of six.” We impaled ourselves. It was awful, feeling the big prick rise implacably up one’s gut. Its oiled hardness showed no mercy, once one’s seat had been put upon it. Up it went. My bottom widened on it and spread apart, my cheeks itching, burning, desperate to get off it. I felt somehow more womanly, though, with the big penis forcing its way up inside me. It was a fullness I relished even as I yearned to be free of it. I squeezed my tits. I fingered my cunt. I was impregnated by it, fulfilled. “Oh, how beautiful she looks! Someone fuck me up my ass, please!” Sherry cried. She dropped to her knees on the towels where Amber and I had done our exercises. Nick, ramrod hard from watching me and Amber, dropped to his knees behind her. She let out a sharp cry. I sensed he was entering her, just like that, his own cock providing the necessary lubrication. “Do me also!” Erika begged of Jim. She sank to her knees and presented her bare, pretty ass to him. I felt jealously but it was a subordinate feeling, given the intense jutting of the cock in my ass. I worked myself upon it and pretended I was receiving him, instead of Erika. With that as inspiration, I had done my three humps and was off the wicked fake cock in no time. The next cock was man-sized. There was no diminishing its importance. It was the size of a full-grown, well hung man’s penis, and stood up with all the glistening pride a real man’s cock would have, stiff and tall and undeniably thick. I gazed at it. I gulped. Could I really take such a big, lurid thing up my bottom? Hesitantly I mounted the trestle. I positioned my ass over it. I reached back, spread my cheeks with my hands. “Here goes,” I breathed. I sat gingerly on the head of the cock. It pressed hard within my cheeks. It touched my tight rosette. “Bear down,” I heard Bridget say, behind me. Whether she was speaking to myself, or Amber, or perhaps even to Sherry or Erika, I couldn’t tell. A figure danced up beside me. It was Larissa. She was lovely, her hair newly brushed, her body glowing with its tanned nudity. She kissed my cheek. She made me turn my mouth to hers and engaged my lips. Walter stepped up behind her. She arched her hips back to him. “Do me again in my ass,” Larissa begged her new boyfriend. He obliged, seized her rump. She kissed me hard on my mouth. “Mmmm, it is so exciting!” she breathed. I felt my anus opened by the big fake cock jammed up between my ass cheeks. “Unhhh, this one’s too big,” I breathed. Yet somehow I managed to sit down upon it, slowly, completely, as Larissa kissed me and received Walter up her behind. “Ooooh! Oooh! Oh!” I gasped. The organ may have been fake, but the way it split me open and filled me up hardly was. I was in agony and ecstasy both at the same time. I had a continuing desire to poop, to expel it, even as I sat repeatedly upon it. Somehow I kept track of the count. I gave myself two extra squats upon the big false penis, though, it was so exciting to sit upon it even as my girfriend kissed my face. I was bare-hipped, my bottom nude and wanton. I was an Indian maiden, captured by big-penised Pilgrims and made to sit upon their prongs. With my head spinning, I rose from the big hard schlong. Larissa held me by my face and, receiving a cock up her own ass, urged me to squat down yet again. I peeled her fingers off my face. “No, I must not lose the race,” I sighed breathlessly. I felt a weariness in my limbs. Could I really go on with this obscene contest? I grabbed the halves of my bottom. I stared at the next prick. It waited for me, mounted at the rear of the next inclining trestle. It was bigger than man-sized. A true challenge. I was only 13. I felt hopelessly outgunned. I had only my snatch, and my bottomhole, and my newly grown tits. It was big and well-greased and not a living thing. A big demon. Made by evil elves, I imagined, in a workshop Santa never knew existed. It thrilled me, looking at it, and yet it frightened me. I could never accommodate such an awful monster up my bottom! SWIIIICK! The cat whistled past my bottom. One of its jewelled tips connected with my seat. It grazed it, as if in warning. I jerked my head back. Bridget, armed with her whistle round her neck, held aloft her cat, stared at me with glistening eyes. “On to the next!” she cried. Her long black hair was tousled, witch-like. Her sleek body moved with liquid grace behind me, like a serpent’s, biting at my bottom. Her wild eyes urged me on to sins more awful than those I’d already committed. I dismounted. I pushed aside Larissa’s seeking hands and ran to the next trestle. “Oh, yes!” I heard Larissa moan, watching me. Her cry was seconded by other females in the room. It was a wild, butt-fucking orgy that was taking place all around me now. Male cocks reamed young, receptive female bottoms. Groans mingled with sighs of pleasure, and of alarm. It was a contest; could the males retain their seed, so as to properly service the females in their care? And could the poor females, youthful and tight-bottomed as they were, accept the big male prongs up their asses? Amidst all the nasty doings, I was the star. It was my cat-enforced antics that spurred them all on. They watched me, cheered me, as they fell to fucking each other. I grabbed the next prick. I held it tightly with both my hands. It was so huge; I could just barely encompass it with my small fingers. I felt its oiled girth in my hands. I wondered how on earth I would take it up my fanny? “YEEEEhooook!” I heard as Amber, behind me, slid down awkwardly on the fourth penis. She was only 12. I imagined her small bottom popping like a balloon on it. Bridget was wicked, to make us do such things. I decided, suddenly, there was only one way to take the cock in my hands. My cunny yearned for it and my bottom feared it. So, then, let it be my cunt that received it. Such a large and wonderful thing should be tested the proper way, up within a girls’ womb; not prying apart her ass. I straddled the big monster with my long legs. It stood up firmly between my thighs, all slick and oiled and ready. Slowly I lowered my cunt to its tip. I shrieked as I felt it touch me. It was so hard, so big. It kept my thighs apart with its hugeness. Somewhere behind me I heard the cat, flinched. But it was Amber’s seat the awful thongs touched. She was a slow-poke, Bridget scolded. She must hump the fourth cock more quickly. “YEEEK! It stings!” I heard Amber cry. I guessed she spoke of the cat, and was even then clutching at her bottom, trying to protect her seat from it. “It is for your own good. Hurry! Lest you lose the race!” Bridget warned. Shuddering with lust and fear, I bent my knees. The big penis jabbed up between my labial lips. I let out a hollar of lust, of fright. Then, putting a hand on my tummy, pressing inward, fearing I might jam the cock right up through me and see it pop out of my navel, I sat down more fully. “OOOOOOO!” I shouted. How it stretched me! Its fearsome width filled me. Its length plunged deep into my body. Up between my thighs it went, its pressure hard, intense, like an ivory elephant tusk rammed up me. I would confess all I knew to black-skinned natives. I would betray Tarzan. They would torture him with an elephant tusk up his ass, even as they speared me with one up my cunt. “Hey! She’s cheating!” Larissa cried. I shivered, startled. What was that little cunt doing? I heard her groan, loudly, as her sometime boyfriend rammed himself more deeply into her. “What?! You ARE cheating!” Bridget said. I felt a coursing of cat tails across my seat. “YEEEEEEE!” I howled. How those jewelled tips stung! My heinie was exposed to them and I could do little to protect myself, jammed down on the big fake penis, as I was. It stuck deeply into me, holding me upon it. I tried to rise. Bridget flayed my bottomcheeks again. I howled. My hands flew to my seat. She struck a third time, across my hands. I yanked them away and she hit me again, on my bared ass. “Ohhh, please!” I begged. I was impaled on the big prong and couldn’t get off it. I fell forward. I grasped the leather-topped trestle. My bottom, bared more fully, received the cat yet again. A tip from the many-thonged whip found my anus and bit it. “YeeeeeHOOOO!” I shouted. My eyes squeezed tightly shut. I began to cry. The cock, fortunately, had a realistic tension built in it. Despite its hardness, I found it leaned forward as I myself dipped forward to the surface of the trestle. Yet that was no relief to my bottom, split apart and bared to Bridget’s cat. She hit me again. I screeched. I begged her to stop, lest I should die. Miraculously, she did. But it wasn’t out of pity for me. Amber, having done her three humps on the fourth penis, had dashed to the fifth. Copying me, she shoved her cunt down upon it, sparing her seat. “What?! You are cheating too!” Bridget yelled. She turned to Amber’s seat, struck it with her cat. The girl howled loudly. Spared momentarily from the cat, I felt desire return. Rudely I began to hump myself upon the awful penis. It worked in me. It broke me open, it seemed, psychologically, and made me more female than I’d ever been before. I lusted upon it. Beside me, lost in screams, of bliss or pain I could not tell, Amber humped herself upon the penis on her trestle, just like me. Bridget whipped her awhile, but as time went by I think she must have lightened her scourging, for, despite getting whacked, we both suffered the cat without undue harm to our bottoms. Our time in the cave ended. Larissa and I retreived what we could of our bikinis and left the cave as we’d entered it, by the swimming out, through the submereged passageway. I felt like a sperm, doing it, wiggling through the tight confines of my own vagina. Amber left as she’d come, up through the top of the cliff. I was reluctant to leave her. I liked her very much, despite her childishness. Erika carried Larissa and I back to the lake’s far shore on her boat. Then she drove us home. Nick stayed behind to help the others clean the cave. It would be used again, I knew, perhaps as early as next weekend. Other girls would be entertained. I wished for time to be myself again, and knew Larissa did too. I liked having a wild summer fling, my first, but now, with autumn coming, other things beckoned. Normal things. School and homework. Larissa and I visited Nick at his house about two weeks later. We played monopoly, Larissa won. We didn’t bring up the subject of our adventure in the mountains and Nick, out of respect for our modesty, didn’t bring it up either, though the way he undressed us with his eyes, I knew he was thinking of it. When we kissed him goodnight, he passed his hands round to our bottoms. “Ah, how temptingly plump your seats are!” Nick breathed. His voice was throaty. His unshaven face felt good against my cheeks. I felt Larissa quiver beside me. Her breasts pressed to him, as mine did. But I was under a cufew, for being gone without permission, and had to hurry home. Larissa did too. “Not tonight, Nick,” I heard her breathe. I agreed. “Not tonight, Nick,” I said. I pecked him on his cheek. THE END ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Other stories: type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Under “Quick Search”, type in: roller39@idt.net Press your “return” key. -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope 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. -END OF story 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> /