Message-ID: <7640eli$9804061157@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: Andrew Roller Subject: Sum 17 Summer of Sin part 17 of 20 (NND) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.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: <352847C2.1EFF@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in SUMMER OF SIN _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Seventeen The chair was deceptively soft. It was covered in velvet. I approached it in very high heels, selected specially for me by Sister Lilith. They were spiked, five inches tall. I could barely walk in them. The straps for them bound my ankles tightly. I was worried I might fall, sprain my ankle, or worse. Lilith held my hand. The men, Father Brannigan and Father Virgil, watched me, her. I was dressed in my school girl uniform again. My pigtails dangled over my shoulders. I felt awkward, teetering in my heels. My blouse, buttoned with the single button, as Sister Mary insisted I wear it, shivered with my every step. My unconstrained bosoms, underneath it, bounced freely. My nipples pushed hard into the tight fabric of my blouse. The points of my teats showed like twin tents in the material. My panties ringed my waist. High, French-cut, a slender bit of silk trailing down between my otherwise nude bottomcheeks. I felt a wetness in the gusset of my undies and knew I was doomed. “Yes, very nice,” Lilith complimented me. “You walk well in your heels, for a first-timer.” “Mmmm,” I said. I bit my lip. I looked down at my toes to make sure I didn’t trip over them. “Chin up,” Lilith said. She placed a finger under my face and lifted my head. I looked up. My eyes rose to the level of the chandelier hanging over the dining room table. Its cut crystal glittered in my eyes. I smelled lobster. I approached the table and Lilith guided me to the seat reserved just for me. It was the velvet seat. Throne-like it awaited me. I was very much the center of attention, and blushed as I saw that the seat had a hole in the middle of it. A hole perhaps the width of a sausage. “It has a hole in it!” I blurted. I pointed to the seat. “Sit down, darling,” Lilith said. She ignored my remark. I stared curiously at the seat and then moved as she wished, placed my bottom so that I could settle onto it. The chair had no arms. But the back of it was very tall. It was not at the head of the table even though it was a distinctive seat, different from the rest. Father Brannigan stood beside his chair at the table’s head, waiting for me to sit. “Not with your panties pulled up,” Sister Lilith cautioned me. “Huh?” I asked. Lilith patted my bottom. “Lower your panties, dear. They’ve provided a very soft seat for your very special bottom. A velvet seat. It’s wished that you might feel the luxuriousness of the seat against your ass. It will serve as a consolation, for what they must do to it later.” “Oh! I am still to be spanked?” I gasped. I had hoped they’d forgotten their pledge to do that. Especially after I’d entertained both of them in the yard. “With the wickedest implements,” Lilith assured me. “And now that I’m here, you’ll have to satisfy me too.” “No!” I breathed. Lilith kissed me. I think she liked my wide-eyed wonder, found it intiguing. “Yes,” she said confidently. “Now sit. Pull down your panties to your knees, like a proper young lady, and sit.” “Proper young ladies don’t take down their panties, they pull them up!” I said ruefully. But my hands shimmied my panties down, as she wished. I didn’t want to increase the punishments they had planned for me. “Everything is different here,” Lilith said. “Of that you can be sure.” I sat down on the chair. I tried not to sit over the hole in the middle of the seat. “Scoot back,” Lilith told me. “Remember what I said. Everything is different here. Panties must be lowered, not raised. Seats have holes in them. And as for your hole, my sweet, the one that usually has things come out of it? Well, tonight something will go up it instead.” She grinned. “After dinner.” “Oh! Please,” I said. I gazed up at her. I shifted backward so that my bottomcrack arched neatly over the sausage-sized hole in the chair. “I like you,” I told her. I looked at her long blonde hair, swept up in a chignon, trails of it loosely hanging down round her face. “A lot,” I added. “I think you’re very pretty and I’d like to look just like you when I grow up. But I don’t want you putting anything up my bottom!” “I know. I’m so wicked!” Lilith said, matter-of-factly. She caressed my hair and dandled one of my pigtails between her long fingers. Her nails, brightly polished, shone like bits of glass under the light of the chandelier. “But if its any consolation to you, its your resistance that lures me on and makes me certain I want to stick something up that pert little ass of yours.” “Thanks,” I said. I lowered my eyes. I looked at the fine china plate at my place. It was empty, but there were mountains of food under lidded silver platters on the table. I’d be full soon. First in my tummy, then in another place. I shivered. There was, I realized, absolutely nothing I could do except accept my fate, and receive it. Sister Mary had spent long minutes making me up, despite having to keep an eye on dinner downstairs. She directed Lilith’s coach man, had him help her in preparing our meal, leaving her time to work on me. I asked to do it myself; my hair, my makeup, my lipstick. Mary said no. I must be done just right. When I complained, Lilith visited me, and told me I was being pampered, and to enjoy it. I tried. But I was nervous, just the same, because I knew it was all being done for a wicked purpose. Despite their earlier enjoyments, both men at the table now sported new bulges in their trousers. They wore their clerical robes but, facing me, standing tall by their chairs at the head and the foot of the table, I could see their condition. It frightened me, to think they could recover so quickly, and be so eager again. Oh, what was I to do? I was just a girl, 13, and yet, if Lilith, with her intentions, were to be counted as more man than woman, at least in respect to me, I was trapped here as the only real female. How could I possibly handle both men and Lilith? (Mary, I knew, didn’t count. She was old and fat, and burdened with chores.) I settled over the hole in my seat. I felt a coolness of air where the warm velvet gave way to the round open space. I felt strange, being seated on soft, warm velvet, yet having a chill where the seat had been drilled through to make the hole. Lilith patted me on my head. She smiled. She turned to the men and regarded them. We were all strangers, really. How unusual to be so frank and free with people I’d only just met! “There, gentlemen,” Lilith said. “Does it satisfy your male lust to have little Chloe here sitting with her bare bottom in your depraved chair that you made for her?” “Of course, Father Brannigan answered. He tried to look mature and austere, serious, like a grown man should be, especially when wearing priests’ robes, but Lilith’s question had been loaded to make him look like a randy boy, no matter his answer. I suppressed a giggle, though I knew it was hardly the time to laugh, with my bottom poised over a seat which might let me relieve myself through it. Did they really expect me to do that? Was that the purpose of this awkward chair? I looked at the bottles of wine set out on the table. “Lilith,” I said, looking up at her. “I’d like to be able to go to the bathroom if I have to.” She gazed down at me. Her eyes showed surprise. “You want to make sure you don’t miss dessert, eh?” she asked. “No! I mean, I want to *get up* and *go* to the bathroom if I need to,” I said. I paused. Then I added, “Please don’t make me go through the chair!” Everyone laughed. I blushed. “No, darling,” Lilith said. “You could, I suppose, poop through that hole, but the way its made, I think you’d have trouble peeing through it, as a girl. Trying to spread your lips and squirt down through the hole-- I think you’d wet the seat. But you might poop through it, perhaps. I think, though, it was made for things going up through it, rather than down.” “Oh!” I gasped. “Think not of it now, though,” Lilith said. “Let us enjoy our dinner. I’m famished after being in the yard.” I gazed up at the woman. She wore a peak cap on her head. A black bow tie circled her neck, drawing her collar closed on her white blouse. Over her blouse she wore a red sportsman’s jacket. She was dressed in riding clothes, as if to hunt foxes. I looked at the frilled white ends of her blouse where the sleeves of it extended out just beyond the cuffs of her red jacket. How pretty she was! I had only my black schoolgirl bouse on, but she had a lovely red jacket and a blouse with long frilly sleeves, plus her tie. She wore a smooth knee-length skirt that was red and matched her jacket. Under that long black stockings, like mine, stretched down her legs. Black polished riding boots, complete with bright spurs, rose from her ankles almost to her kneecaps. Slung over one of her wrists, dangling down from it with slender justice as its aim, was a leather-sheathed riding crop. Lilith lifted her arm and drew the crop with a sweep of her fingers up into her hand. “Show me your palm, darling,” Lilith told me. I looked up at her with wondering eyes. “Huh?” I asked. “Show me your palm,” Lilith repeated. “Lay your hand out flat on the table, palm up.” “But why?” I asked, obeying. With my other hand I drew my fingers curiously close to my nest between my legs. “I want to hit it,” Lilith said. “But why?” I asked again, looking at my hand as I submissively laid it on the table for her, offering it to her. WHACK! She struck my hand with her riding crop and I howled. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wrenched my hand away and shook it hard in the air. Then I jammed it up under my armpit. “Because,” Lilith said. “To make you good at dinner. And because, well, I just wanted to do it.” I gaped up at Lilith through tear-filled eyes. “You’re mean!” I shouted. I bit my lip. “You look lovely when you cry,” Lilith said. “Consider it tuition. I’ll teach you to wield a crop as quickly and neatly at that if you like, before you leave here. I might even let you use my bottom for target practice.” I felt my face brighten. Imagine! Lilith, so lovely, offering her tight-cheeked ass to me to practise hitting it with a crop? But oh, wasn’t that wicked? I should not like to be wicked. There was too much of that here in this place already. I rubbed my hand back and forth under the crook of my arm. Yet, without even knowing it, I diddled my slit with my other hand. I was hot, flushed. “Are you going to take your panties down too, and sit properly?” Father Brannigan asked. He leered at Lilith. “I’m not a school girl,” Lilith answered. She sounded displeased that he’d asked her such a question. She frowned, then said: “But if it will suit you gentlemen’s sinful natures, I’ll do one better than that. Just to remind little Chloe here that I’m a girl just like her, I’ll take my skirt off. You, gentlemen, will do me a similar favor, however, if I do. You’ll unzip yourselves and show us your things. And I have one more request after that.” “Well, if you insist,” Father Brannigan said. He gazed with obvious eagerness as Lilith reached back behind herself and unzipped her skirt. Seeing that she was in fact going through with her challenge, Father Brannigan unzipped his fly. Father Virgil did the same. “Are we ready to eat?” Sister Mary asked. She came bustling into the room with another silver platter. “Oh!” she said, pausing. She saw Sister Lilith unzip her skirt. It dropped to her booted ankles. The men pulled at their crotches. Their penises came into view. “I didn’t know you were busy,” Mary said. “We are simply preparing for dinner. You may serve us, momentarily,” Lilith said. She bent and carefully stepped out of her skirt, doing her best not to catch the expensive fabric of it on her spurs. I gaped at Father Virgil and Father Brannigan. They were well hung, fully erect. Lilith slipped off her panties. Sister Mary set down the platter she’d been carrying, laying it on the table with the other food. Then she came over to Sister Lilith and took her clothes from her. When she’d gotten rid of her panties and skirt, Lilith pulled back her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. She wore no bra. Her bosoms, freed of the blouse and bra, wobbled firm and high on her chest. She had big ones. They had nipples the size of half dollars. I gazed at them, impressed. My eyes trailed down between them to Lilith’s flat belly, then on, past the wasp-like curve of her waist to the mount she now displayed with unaccountable boldness. I looked with wide eyes at her pussy. It would be clad with a fake penis later this evening. Its soft, muted surface would move with rhythmic undulations, shoving a rubber dong up my ass! Shivering, I watched as Lilith walked over to Father Brannigan. Her hips swayed. She was firm in her steps. Her boots clicked on the floor. She picked up a pitcher of cream. She held it above Father Brannigan’s lewdly presented cock. “Sir, I shall expect you to masturbate yourself during our meal,” Lilith said. “I am having the girl tonight, not you. I wish for you to enjoy yourself, however. Play with this big penis you’ve got as we eat, and when dinner ends, please relieve yourself under the table.” She turned her head. Mary was watching. “Please bring a towel for each of them, Mary,” Lilith said. “They will be shooting off after dinner. I’m sure they don’t want to stain the floor.” “You want us to sit here whacking off at the dinner table?” Father Brannigan asked. His voice sounded incredulous. It could harldy be called good manners, something a mother would approve of. But then Lilith wasn’t, in fact, a mother. She might be a nun, but she was only 19. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do,” Lilith said. “Both of you. Pour warm cream on your genitals whenever you need it. And, when dessert comes, then shoot.” She grinned. “I don’t want you taking your pleasure too soon, gentlemen,” she said. “There’s no fun if I don’t know you’re all hard and randy throughout our dinner.” There was a gleam in her eyes. She smiled at both of them. Then, arching the pitcher, she drooled a long trail of cream down onto Father Brannigan’s penis. She paused. Father Brannigan, not knowing what else to do with himself, wincing at the heat of the cream, began rubbing his member. Lilith smiled. “Yes. That’s it,” she complimented him. “My, how big you are. More cream, sir?” “No. I think I have enough right now,” Father Brannigan answered. There was awe in his voice. It was every man’s dream, I suppose, his secret dream, to be asked by a beautiful woman to masturbate himself for her. “Very good,” Lilith said. She walked over to Father Virgil. “You too,” she said, and poured cream on him. “Pass the cream, please,” Father Virgil said later to Father Brannigan, as we ate our lobster dinner. Everyone smiled. There was no coffee, and we knew cream didn’t go with the lobster. We all watched as Father Brannigan passed the pitcher to Father Virgil and he blushed and doused his penis. Then he rubbed himself, and groaned. Mary watched from the doorway, smiled. We were quite a sight, the four of us. I sat with my blouse unbuttoned. Lilith had opened my single button, saying mine could not be buttoned if hers wasn’t. My bosoms quivered as I ate. After dinner, as dessert was served, Lilith’s coach man brought me a present. It was a box with pretty red wrapping paper on it and a pink bow. I sighed. I smiled. I thanked Lilith and the two priests. I hadn’t expected a present! Was it a ring, I wondered? But the box was a foot long. Then again, sometimes small presents were put in big boxes to fool the recipient. I imagined finding a glittering diamond as I undid the bows on the box. “Oh my God!” I gasped. Removing the lid, pushing back the pretty paper inside, I saw suddenly what they’d given me. It wasn’t small, or a ring. It was a long, stainless steel rod. It was jointed, to allow it to flex. At the very tip of it was a tiny steel bulb. Behind that, separated by a bit of space along the rod, was a bigger bulb. An even bigger bulb lay behind that one. Five bulbs in all were spaced out along the length of the rod. The last was as large as a fist. “What-- what is it?” I asked. But my mind told me it must be something sinister. I touched it squeamishly with my fingers. “It’s designed to go up your bottom,” Lilith grinned. “Or your sweet cunt. It cannot be taken down the throat, I don’t think, though we might try that way if we like. When you have learned to take all five bulbs, the entire lenght of the rod, you will be a well-trained trooper indeed.” “No!” I shrieked. But they all laughed, even Mary. I ate my dessert with trembling fingers. It was a long banana, slicked with butterscotch syrup. Lilith called it a ‘butter banana’. She made me eat it with my fingers. She watched, eating one of her own. It was her own special invention, she said. She made both men have one also. The steel rod was fitted under my chair. The coach man had been called in to put it in place. I sat now, quite anxiously, on the first of the bulbs, the one at the tip. It jutted up through the hole in my chair and I had been made to lift up my ass and settle it back down on the bulb. It spread my bottomcheeks, inquired up inside my anus. The coach man had oiled the bulb well so that, with helpful pressure applied to my shoulders by Lilith, I could be made to plunge my hole down onto it. It was frightening, uncomfortable, but not so disagreeable that it prevented me from having my dessert. Lilith told me that at each meal another bulb would be pushed up through the seat, and I’d have to find it in myself to take it up my hiney. “I don’t want to,” I told her. “I know,” she whispered. “That’s why I’m going to make sure you do.” “It’s a waste of good sperm, I think,” Father Brannigan said, rubbing his cock as he pushed the banana into his mouth. He bit part of it off. He chewed. “Yeah, I agree,” Father Virgil said. “God, though, I’m horny. I can’t keep rubbing myself like this forever! I’ll lose my load.” “Exactly as I intend,” Lilith answered. She played at trying to deep-throat her banana, pulling it out of her mouth to speak. “I want both you men rested and in bed this evening. I don’t want you interfering with my little date with Chloe.” “Why do you want to be alone with her, anyway?” Father Brannigan asked. “You’re a girl!” “I know. But I think like a boy, sometimes,” Lilith answered. She put her banana to her lips to try deep-throating it again. “And tonight,” Lilith said. “I want to fuck her fanny. And, gentlemen, I’d like to give Chloe her first whipping too. There’s nothing more receptive than a well-whipped bottom. The heat, I think, imparted by the rod, makes it more willing to open up and receive.” “Oh, I don’t want to be whipped!” I howled. I wriggled on the bulb that was so insistently plugging the hole of my hiney. “You are just the bottom, dear,” Lilith told me. “Please don’t talk.” “Oooh! I don’t like this,” I said. “Another word out of you and I’ll make you give me your palm again,” Lilith warned. “Yes, mistress,” I said. I lowered my eyes. What was I to do? The men negotiated with Lilith to let them watch. Mary hovered in the doorway, her big, bulky form insuring that if I unplugged myself from my seat and ran for the door I’d be stopped. I knelt on the bed. My bed, but I wasn’t in charge of how I slept in it tonight. My stockings were removed, to keep them from getting runs. My heels, thankfully, were off also, leaving me safely barefoot. My panties hung over the bed’s baseboard. I was nude, my hair in pigtails but otherwise starkers. I glanced back behind me. Lilith stood to my rear. She wore the remains of her riding outfit. Her crop was poised in her fingers. “Lift up your bottom, darling,” Lilith told me. “I’ll try not to make it hurt too much.” Father Brannigan and Father Virgil, their cocks naked and vulnerable, showing huge, masturbation-enflamed erections, stood at the foot of my bed. Each man had his hands handcuffed behind his back. A second pair of handcuffs fitted to each man’s penis, one ring around his dick, the other around the bedpost of my bed. They were special handcuffs, ‘penis cuffs,’ that bound each man’s member to my bed’s baseboard. Lilith had brought them. Father Brannigan and Father Virgil hadn’t known such obscene devices existed, ‘till she took them out of her trunk and showed them. Now they were each caught by one of the devices, fixed and fitted and utterly unable to move. The flange of each man’s penis, where his cockhead met his shaft, prevented him from wriggling out of the cuffs. The strength of his erection, induced by his own rubbing hand during dinner, ensured that he remained randy. How bizzare it was! Two men, their penises fastened with steel cuffs to my bed, while a woman stood behind me, a riding crop in her hand. Lilith put one knee on my bed. I bent, offering my tushy to her. I huddled my shoulders and felt very small. I did not want this. Yet with my bedroom door locked, with Mary patrolling outside in the hall, how could I avoid it? The worst, I knew, would not be the cuts. It would be knowing that big fat Mary, the woman who regarded me with a measure of contempt, despite being required to pamper me, would hear. WHACK! The crop descended suddenly. It bit into the soft underside of my fanny. I clapped my hands to my bottom. I sat bolt upright in my bed. wA-HOOOOOO! I shouted. I twisted my back, clutched at my hiney. Oh, how it burned! Lilith laughed. The men, nervously, sweat running down their brows because they could, with their cocks stiff and caught, be the next victims, laughed too. “That’s one,” Lilith told me. She waited while I squirmed about and fought off the desire to break into tears. “Relax, dear,” she said. “It might hurt, but we needn’t hurry. We can take all night if we wish.” At morning light, my bottom red and raw, Lilith made me help her into the dildo. I did it with quavering, almost uncontrollable hands. I was weak by then, but not too weak to be scared. I tied the strings at her back to fit the dildo tightly to her front. Then, teary-eyed, I knelt again, and showed her my fanny. She went up me as slowly as she’d whipped me. By the time she was done, despite all my suffering, I think the men were even worse off than me. They’d seen it all, but were unable move, save to wrench at the steel binding their cocks. It did no good. They were helplessly stiff. Their hands were safely behind them, where they could do no harm to the beauty of their organs’ stiffness. It was then, with my bottom smarting and my hole terribly sore from Lilith’s exertions, that I learned, perhaps for the first time, the true nature of erotic beauty. As I cried myself to sleep, the sun rising hot outside my window, I had a sumptuous spectacle at the foot of my bed: both priests, their cocks rock hard, stood like stiff soldiers, guarding me in my bedroom. Lilith left them that way. They were made to stand there all day, until I awoke at nightfall. Imagine! Both of them, so hard, yet unable to touch themselves. They wished then that theyd’ taken Lilith’s advice and shot off on the towels under the dinner table. When I woke up, the moon rising now outside my window, Lilith came into my room and uncuffed the men. I was fucked by both of them. They were like frantic dogs. It was a pleasant, if exhasting, way to start the evening! 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller39@idt.net in the box that appears. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Or search using: roller666@earthlink.net -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/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! - 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 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION Need a book? http://www.amazon.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |