Message-ID: <14878eli$9809011413@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: Fevered Fall part 21 of 22 (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: <35E75F80.3009@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in FEVERED FALL _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Twenty-One There is no more wonderful sight in this world than a stallion, young and powerful, surging to a gallop as he demonstrates his prowess on the racetrack. None, that is, except for a man. Imagine how full of desire I felt as the men were paraded one by one in the ballroom. I thought to stay in the holding room with them, but Rebecca, summoned to sit on the lap of the Prince, asked that I be brought out. I knelt at the foot of Prince Havash’s throne. He wore boots. I was given a cloth by a guard and told to kiss and wipe the Prince’s boots. But they were already well polished and when I failed to comply, just holding the polishing rag in my hand, the Prince ordered the guard to go fetch the first of the men and not to molest me. The leather-clad woman appeared, beckoned by the guard. From the holding room she drew a man. He was the first she had teased. He had a mesmerized look on his face, for She led him by his penis, her fingers encircling his stiffness. In her other hand she no longer held shears but, rather, a riding crop. I trembled when I saw it. Instinctively I grabbed one of the Prince’s legs. I hugged it, feeling his leather boot against my bare skin. He did not snap at me. Perhaps my fear amused me. I, who had suffered so much at his hands, was now seeking solace from him! It was confusing being a slave, one had few saviors, and many tormentors. “Ooohs” and “Aaaahs” arose from the assembled women as the first of the men was displayed to their eyes. They had greeted him earlier in clothes, dressed as they were. They had watched at a distance as he was stripped and I washed his balls. Now, however, he was threaded between them, like a dog being taken for a walk amidst guests in a crowded park. The leather-clad woman lead him. Whenever a woman requested it, Sabrina, the woman in black leather, halted the man. He was forced to stand still as his dick was admired. Soft hands touched his penis. Fingernails intruded one by one into his pee hole. Palms reached beyond the ring of leather at the base of his dick and squeezed his balls. Even men could get into the act. Any man who requested to feel the slave was permitted. It was not considered gay; the male slaves had been selected because of their fine bodies, particularly that part of themselves sticking out from between their legs. It was natural for a man to wish to compare notes. The men did feel; some roughly, some gently. Many liberties were permitted the guests, but the slave had to endure all in silence. I watched, still hugging the Prince’s boot. I yearned to be like the men and show off, yet it was a secret yearning, and I was simultaneously glad that I was just a girl, with only my buzzing clitty between my legs, and sitting secure at the Prince’s feet. No one could touch me, here, by the Prince’s throne, unless he gave them permission. When he had been fully scrutinized, when his capacity to serve had been proven by his ability to hold himself forth, the man was released. Sabrina let go of his cock. The other guests’ hands retreated. But a further humiliation awaited him. Though no longer being touched, the man was given a drink and invited to converse with the guests. He blushed. He had already been told what he would have to do, as he waited in the holding room. A chamber pot was brought into the ballroom, by the guards, and set on the floor. As the man conversed, he drank, and as soon as he finished his drink the guests gave him another. All the while they spoke to him in the most pleasing tones, as if he were clothed, as if his big penis weren’t sticking out all naked and raw. It might have been bearable if the drinks the man was given were alcoholic. But they weren’t. Alcohol might allay his embarrassment. So, while the guests sipped fine cocktails, enjoying the alcoholic buzz of their drinks, the man was given fancy, colored drinks, that amounted to little more than water. He was urged to drink one after another, and as he did, they talked with him. The men who had so freely fondled his cock spoke to him of sports. The women discussed the weather, or other things, equally banal, equally pointless, save for the very pointed image of his poor penis displayed before all their eyes. When he could endure no more, the man asked to relieve himself. “What? You have to go to the bathroom?” a man asked merrily. “Yes. If I may,” the male slave replied, another drink urged into his hands, his eyes wandering toward the solace that awaited him at the chamber pot. “I say! This young fellow says he has to pee!” the man shouted. A titter of laugher went up among the ladies. One of the male guests saw fit to pass around cigars, which he had been keeping in his coat pocket. A lighter was shared, the cigars were lit. All the while, the male slave stood with his cock exposed, twitching with its need. “He must spend and pee, I’ll bet,” a lady said, and requested a man to allow her to puff upon his cigar. He did, she savored it, rolling it on her tongue as he held it to her lips. “Prince Havash, shall we let this young man urinate?” a male guest asked the Prince. “If he cannot hold himself, I suppose we must,” Prince Havash replied. He yawned. He was growing bored with the whole affair, I guessed. “Pee, then,” the male guest commanded the slave. “But do not let your sperm out.” “Thank God!” the slave answered. Immediately he went over to the chamber pot. The guests followed, and they all stood around admiring him as he pissed with his admirable cock into the waiting bowl. I watched each man displayed in turn. My cunny hummed with delight at the spectacle. Surreptitiously I touched myself, but I feared getting caught and could only brush, very briefly, the special place between my legs. At last Robin came out. The guests loved him for his youthfulness. I felt jealous, watching them touch him. When he peed, I rubbed myself eagerly, imagining his strong flow to be flooding me. I gasped. Sabrina heard, somehow, and turned and looked at me. Quickly I drew my hand away from myself, blushing. “Be good, little one,” Prince Havash admonished, sitting high above me on his throne. “Yes, sire,” I answered. My voice was meek. Rebecca darted one of her bare feet forward and kicked me, lightly, along the side of my face. I looked up at her and she frowned at me, silently. I rubbed my cheek. I didn’t have to ask why she’d kicked me. I knew. She was as worried as I that I might get into trouble. The contest ended with Robin being awarded the blue ribbon. I was shocked. Other men were bigger, but his youthful charm had, I guessed, won them over. He was called forth from the holding room. We all clapped. Even I clapped. Robin grinned. He seemed quite proud of himself, and his penis. A blue sash was put over his head by two of the ladies. He wore it across his chest. Upon it was pinned a blue ribbon. “Now you must prove your penis’s worth, and not just show it off,” Prince Havash ordered. At once the women, up until now models of decorum, began undressing. The men disrobed too. Robin stood in the middle of all of them, his blue-ribboned sash draped over his chest, his penis sticking out like a prong on a hatrack. When everyone was naked someone produced a bottle of baby oil. Two women knelt in front of Robin and carefully undid the collar-like leather ring around the base of his dick. Then, hands began touching Robin everywhere. The guests no longer confined their explorations to his penis, but felt his buttocks, his chest, his arms, even his finely chiseled face. Soon afterward the bottle of baby oil was pointed at him and squirted until it was completely empty, and Robin was dripping. Hands sluiced in the oil, smoothing it all over him so that no part of his body, not even the crack of his ass, was left uncoated by the oil. Robin groaned. He had endured so much, yet now, being felt everywhere, knowing that wild sex was just around the corner, it took all his effort and more to keep from losing himself amidst the plethora of hands that were sleekly admiring him. When Robin was as wet as if he’d fallen in a lake, he was ordered to lie down. He did so, right on the floor, and his cock stuck up like a flag from the flatness of his belly. A woman, her clothes discarded, sat on his face. Two other women knelt on either side of his waist. Everyone leaned in, but a gap was left in the group, so that Prince Havash might see, and me too. As I watched, my mouth open, my tits trembling and my hands wedged between my legs, the two women kneeling over Robin’s groin began stroking his erection. Now, for the first time of the evening, they asked him to cum. In fact, they ordered him. Still, Robin was so well-trained by now, trained to resist, that he held himself back. “No, you do not understand, my boy,” a man said, leaning over Robin. “You are a slave. You are not merely to abstain from losing your sperm. You ARE to lose it, whenever and however ordered. It does not belong to you. If told to hang on to it, you must of course keep it inside you. But if told to shoot it, you must do so with the same obedience that you earlier showed by not spurting.” “Ah! I cannot!” Robin gasped. His voice was partly muffled by the woman sitting on his face. He jerked his loins upward, once, yet the ministrations of the women’s hands still did not bring forth his seed. “Then whip him!” the man ordered. Did I sense a secret delight in the man’s voice? At once, the women got up from Robin. Even the woman sitting on his face rose up, leaving him lying there on the floor, gasping. I watched with fearful eyes as guards came into the room. They dragged Robin to his feet and marched him over to a trestle that, even now, was being carried into the room by several other guards. Robin was put against the trestle. It had two parts; the standard saw horse part, plus an upper part, a wooden frame. Robin would be bound standing up, and leaning forward. He was. They had no consideration for his dick which, still erect, protruded over the leather seat of the trestle. Robin’s legs were spread and his ankles were bound to the legs of the trestle. I saw, between his thighs, his balls resting hard against the trestle’s seat. He looked like he had a big water balloon wedged between his legs. Robin’s arms were uplifted and chained to the upper part of the wooden frame, the part that leaned back away from the trestle, drawing Robin with it, and exposing his back and buttocks. Robin looked frantically over his shoulder. His back was strong. He yanked at the chains that held his wrists to the upright whipping frame, but the neither the chains nor the frame itself budged. He flexed his bare buns. Sabrina, still carrying her riding crop, was given the honor of punishing Robin. She sauntered forward, eying the boy’s behind as I clapped my hands over my eyes and refused to look. “Then we are agreed?” I heard above me. There was no answer spoken, but instead I heard a kiss, wetly applied. The next thing I heard was: “Ah, she dares not look, she loves him so.” It was spoken by a woman, out in the crowd, but the Prince heard it and must have leaned forward, regarding his boots, and me beside them, crouched low, rabbit-like. One of my arms was still hooked around his leg, feeling the slick leather of his boot, as I pressed my hands hard to my eyes and wished I had two more hands to put over my ears. And one for my mouth, so I could scream unabated, and not make myself appear girlish and foolish. Soft feet dropped to the floor beside me. I was surprised to hear them; I wedged apart two of my fingers and peeked out. It was my aunt, standing before the Prince. She had slid down off her lap. Distractedly her fingers toyed in the bush of her pubis. I sensed that she yearned to plunge her fingers between her legs, and rub her sex freely, but that it was not permitted. “Stand up, Chloe,” my aunt said in a soft voice. There was an odd air of command to it. I opened my wedged-apart fingers wider, and looked up through them at her. She stood over me naked, her tits with erotically sprouted nipples, her breath coming in short, desire-laden gasps. “Chloe!” she said more strongly, her voice high pitched, almost frantic. Her fingers dipped lower upon the sweet mound of her bush. She reached down. Her breasts bobbled before my eyes and she grabbed one of my arms. She yanked me to my feet with a strength and a determination I had not known her to possess before. I gazed at the Prince. He smiled at me, but his eyes gleamed wickedly, like those of a wolf eyeing prey. The next thing I knew Robin had been untied, and was standing near me, and Jim Rutland had been brought forth from the holding room. The Prince turned his gaze to Jim, who was the oldest of the four of us standing in our bare skins before him. I saw that Jim’s obscene leather cock collar had been removed. Jim’s face looked haggard. He gazed at the Prince with his usual boldness but I sensed he was overwhelmed by something. His penis looked marvelously erect, as did Robin’s. It was coated from its head to its base with vaseline. It gleamed like a newly polished lance. Robin was covered completely with vaseline, as if perhaps he needed to slip his hole body through something tight. My cunny yearned, gazing at him. I would splay myself for him, impossibly wide, and my whole being would be filled not just with his cock, but with every fiber of his muscled body. “Sire,” Jim Rutland said. His voice had a kind of gasping quality to it, as if he were having trouble breathing. His chest heaved as he spoke. His penis, enflamed as I’d never seen it before, throbbing mightily, looked at the brink of spending. “Yes?” Prince Havash asked. His voice was nonchalant. He had a drink resting on the arm of his throne and he lifted it to his mouth and sipped it. His eyes fell to Jim’s penis. “I am-- I mean, I was-- in the holding room. We were being serviced. I was about to...” Jim said. His voice broke off. I needed no help in knowing what he was saying. He had been on the brink of release, when the Prince had called him forth. “How is your bottom?” the Prince asked. “Turn around. Let me see?” Jim’s eyes widened. He turned and showed the Prince his perfect, compact cheeks. There was a light fuzz of hair on them and, hanging between his thighs, his balls looked heavy and tight. A red blush still remained on Jim’s ass where Mrs. Hatami, adding to his earlier punishments, had spanked him with the belt. “Sire, my... bottom is all right,” Jim stammered. He squeezed his ass cheeks and threw both his hands forward and grabbed his dick, as if he were about to urinate. “It’s my cock that’s dying!” “Take your hands away!” the Prince ordered. Jim’s arms slackened. His hands fell from his cock. He turned, again faced us, and thrust himself quite openly at the Prince. How odd it looked, one man presenting his cock to another, literally stabbing the air with it, as if begging to fuck him! I thought the Prince would be insulted, but he only stared at Jim, and sipped his drink. At last the Prince put his drink back down on the arm of his chair, and said: “Mr. Rutland. May I call you Jim? My worthless brother warned you that the time would come when you wished you had no penis at all. That time is now. I am going to give you something more torturous than being a slave. I am going to give you your freedom.” I gasped. Jim did too, but he continued to strain his hips forward, as if, in addition to giving him his freedom, the Prince might also jerk him off. The Prince lifted a finger. “Not your complete freedom, however. I am going to provide you, Rebecca, little Chloe here, and Robin with a private cabin. It is located many miles from here, but it is equipped with the latest, state of the art video equipment. Everything you do there will be filmed. However, you will be free to do as you wish. If, that is, you can reach your destination without spending. You, and Robin also, must keep your sperm in your balls until you arrive. Otherwise, you will be given over to my guards, who are dying to have you.” The Prince looked at Robin. “Both of you,” he said. “Oh, God!” Robin cried. “Put me back on the rack! I don’t care! I can’t keep my sperm in my balls anymore!” He grabbed at his dick. He thrust his hips forward. Instinctively I darted away from him. He looked as if he was going to let loose a flood of pee, right on me! My aunt turned and slapped Robin hard on his bare chest. Robin shouted. Startled, he dropped his hands to his sides. I stared at Rebecca. She seemed surprised at how quickly and forcefully she’d acted. I sensed a jealousy within me. Did she love Robin like I did? “You will all be given clothes, and you will dress, right here, in front of us all,” the Prince said. “Then you will be escorted to a car, and my guards will accompany you, to insure you don’t play with yourselves.” He laughed. But groans went up from his guests, for they had been looking forward to seeing Robin whipped and made to cum. “I want to spank his ass!” Sabrina said. “I want to feel him spurt in my face!” a woman gushed. “We have plenty of slaves at our disposal, ladies,” the Prince said. “But as for these four, they have a specially hard road ahead for themselves. Hours in a car, clad in tight jeans, all four of them.” He laughed again. He looked at me. “Chloe, don’t you feel lucky?” he asked. “It is because you’re so beautiful that I’m giving you your own cabin.” “It’s because you know we’ll fuck like animals, and you’ll be able to sell the tape,” Jim said. I looked at him, wide-eyed. Would we fuck like animals? I gulped. Yes, we would. He was more honest with himself than I was, always tangling myself in girlish white lies. “The price of oil is depressed at the moment,” the Prince said to Jim. “You should look forward to the opportunity to serve my kingdom in so profitable a manner.” “Oh! What if boys in America see me?” I gasped. The thought of being given complete privacy, to perform acts which might afterwards be seen by anyone, shocked me. I looked at my aunt. She dropped her eyes, and gazed at her feet. Her fingers still played in her bush. But she did not touch herself where she needed it most. Much later I remembered I had offered myself to cameras once before, at Helene’s. But she was a much more discreet host than this stupid Prince Havash was. I sat between Jim and Robin in the car. It was a stretch limo. It accommodated the guards as well as ourselves. Rebecca sat by Robin, next to the door. I wished she had been put beside Jim instead, for in her nervousness (or was it something more?) she stroked Robin’s thigh with her hand. My eyes flitted from one man’s groin to the other. Both looked tremendously full, as if a cucumber and eggs had been stuffed into the front of each man’s pants. Jim tried to look relaxed by giving me an occasional smile, otherwise directing his gaze out the window. But, sitting so close, I could feel a trembling in his body, as if there were a shuddering spring wound tight in him, that was aching to be released. A strangeness enveloped me. Despite my harsh treatment in Quatar, everywhere I had gone I had been constantly complimented on my beauty. I had been clothed in it, wearing my naked skin as most people wear fine garments they buy on Fifth Avenue. But now I was dressed, and my clothes distracted me. They hid my loveliness from the two men I wanted most in the world. At any other time I might have tolerated the clothes. A pair of jeans, after all, tightly worn, reveals much. But I was so used to being utterly free, to presenting my bare self to whomever cast me the smallest glance, that it was a trial to sit there in that car, wearing jeans. A t-shirt, unadorned, hugged my upper body. My bosoms pressed tightly into it, pushing the shirt forth into twin globes. I wore no bra and my nipples perked into the shirt. It was a simple covering, yet too much, in my excited state, and I wanted it off right away. Rebecca squirmed. I looked across at her. She wore her hair in a scarf, to keep herself correct in the eyes of Moslem observers. I was only 13, still able to evade such laws, according to the Prince. Perhaps he liked the contrast we offered; myself with my hair flowing in blonde abundance down over my shoulders, Rebecca sitting primly, her hair pinned neatly up under a scarf. Otherwise she was dressed in jeans, like me, and a t-shirt, but she had a small leather coat pulled over the shirt, again for modesty. Both Robin and Jim wore jeans and bright polo shirts. Robin’s green, Jim’s blue. Our limo passed through a small village. Chickens, pecking in the road, scattered before our car. It slowed to wait for children, playing soccer in the dirt street, to pick up their ball and scuttle away. We rolled on, out into the desert, nothing but barren sand for miles around. In the car all was cool, quiet. I could hear Jim and Robin breathing. On the other side of the metal walls that enclosed us the temperature was well over 100. A guard opened a small bottle. He smiled at the man sitting beside him, who smiled back. They both wore swords around their waists and I hoped they didn’t have any plans for them. As it turned out, the swords might have been quick and easy to bear. “Open your trousers,” the guard said to Jim. “Huh?” Jim asked. “Unzip yourself,” the guard ordered. “Hot dog!” Robin exclaimed. Immediately he pulled down the zipper over his groin. His thing popped through the opening of his undone zipper. The men wore no underpants. The Prince had prohibited them. To my delighted surprise, I watched as both men unzipped themselves. Robin’s cock pulsed in the open air, free of his pants. Jim’s remained stuck in his pants, too big to come through the unzipped fly. The guard leaned forward. In his hand he held the bottle. “What’s that?” Jim asked. “You’ll feel soon enough,” the guard said. “Is it water?” Robin asked. “You can pour water on my dick if you like. It’s feeling pretty hot!” I wondered if Robin hoped the sensation of the water pouring over his dick would cause him to spurt. He was young. Even though cumming was expressly prohibited, perhaps he hoped he could blame the whole thing on the guard. “It’s not water,” the guard replied. “Oh,” Robin said. The guard titled the bottle over Jim’s lap. A brown fluid emerged from the mouth of the bottle. It spilled into Jim’s open fly. “Hey!” Jim blurted. “Hold still,” the guard said. I don’t want to spill it all over your pants. It’s expensive.” “Ack! So’s my dick!” Jim retorted. The guard continued to pour. I saw Jim’s face twist into a frown. “Oh, Jim! What’s happening?” I cried. “It’s...” Jim gasped. He could have easily batted the bottle away with his hands, but it would have meant the sword for his penis instead. So he endured, as the guard with the bottle filled up his trouser hole with fluid. “God! I feel like my dick is itching!” Jim announced. “Your dick should be itching,” the guard said. There was a smug grin on his face. “But don’t scratch it. You must suffer, and think always of your penis, until we reach the cabin and you can find relief.” “Oh, shit! I was already thinking about my penis. Now I’m dying!” Jim gasped. He squirmed on the seat. I clapped my hands to my face. But Rebecca saw possibilities in the bottle, and smiled. “Please, let me do him. If he must be done,” Rebecca said to the guard. She was speaking of Robin, who innocently sat between us with his penis sticking out of his pants. “Alright,” the guard said. He handed the bottle to Rebecca. “It is good that you cooperate,” he said. Robin watched, wide-eyed, as did I. Rebecca sniffed the bottle’s open mouth. Smelling nothing overtly harmful, she looked at Robin. Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Hold your dick still, dear, while I give you the Prince’s newest test,” Rebecca told Robin. “Good lord! Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this?” Jim Rutland, sitting across from me, yelled to my aunt. “Just a little,” Rebecca replied. “Even though we are slaves, you are male slaves, and Chloe and I are female. Plus, you would do us no favors if you saw that phalluses had to be put into us.” “Ah, God!” Jim shouted. He squirmed as the sensuous itching lotion burned into the flesh of his cock. I looked at the guards. I felt such pity for Jim! He had such a big one! To think how he must feel, jammed into his jeans, with his cock afire! “My he at least pull his dick out of his pants?” I asked the guards. “Perhaps the air would cool it a little.” “You may pull it out,” one of the guards told me. “But do not rub him. Just release him, from his pants, if that is indeed what he wishes.” Jim rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted, I’m sure, was to show off his penis to our captors. But he couldn’t stand being stuffed into his jeans, and now the itching lotion was causing him agony. He looked at me with beseeching eyes. “Yes,” Jim said. “Pull it out.” He glanced at the guards, sitting across from us, and at the swords they wore. I gulped, as nervous as he, and leaned over him and dug into his fly for his cock. It felt like a big sausage in there, trapped and pulsing. Like a snake, caged, dying to spurt out its deadly venom. Our car travelled through miles of open desert. On either side of me, sticking up palm-like, were the penises of Jim and Robin. At last I saw real palms, in the distance. “An oasis!” I cried. I pointed at the palms that stood tall amidst the wasteland of shimmering sand. I giggled at the thought of leaving the desert, and being totally surrounded and flanked and submerged in a thicket of long, thick objects. “Palms to the left of me. Palms to the right of me. Palms over my head!” I shouted. I pressed my hands to the limo’s seat. I bounced up and down. “Be good, Chloe,” my aunt admonished. “I’ve always wanted to live in an Oasis, ever since I heard the band,” I said. “I don’t think... that there are any British bands here,” Robin said. His voice was haggard. He squirmed beside me. Even though he and Jim were both older than me, both men found it impossible to sit still. My aunt didn’t scold them. She knew it would have been fruitless. The guards, watching us, had no objection, as long as the men didn’t masturbate. Jim and Robin still wore their pants, but both of them offered their cocks to our eyes. They were desperate. Their cocks were slathered with the itching lotion. Each man stabbed at the cool air of the limo with his penis, repeatedly lifting his hips up off the seat. They groaned, like penitents in Hell. My aunt laughed. “You boys should have used the bathroom before we left the palace,” my aunt said. “What?” Jim asked. His voice was distracted. All he could think about was his dick! He shifted his weight on the seat. His penis arched up like a spear. He was oozing pre-cum from his cock’s peehole. Only the pre-cum, sliding down the sides of his dick, offered any hope of relief from the itching lotion that covered his manhood. “It isn’t funny, what we’re going through,” Robin complained. I looked from one man’s cock to the other; Jim’s now stood up out of his fly, just like Robin’s, and they were both oozing pre-cum. Across from the men sat our three guards. Each one had a sword, and permission to cut off the penis of either Robin or Jim, if he should touch himself. They were openly amused at the predicament of my friends. They obviously hoped for a chance to lop off their dicks. “Ah, God!” Jim groaned. He arched his hips up; as if to stab into the ceiling over our heads. “Now are you beginning to wish you didn’t have a penis?” one of the guards, who had poured the lotion into Jim’s pants, asked him. “A... Almost!” Jim confessed. The guard grinned at him, fingering his sword. “You have the power in your hands to relieve yourself of your distress,” the guard said. “I have cotton, bandages, and pain killer with me. Just fondle yourself, and I will remove all your problems.” “No!” Jim gasped. I glared at the guard. “You’re evil,” I said. He appeared nonplussed. “I’m an Arab. Jim is a white man,” the guard answered. “What’s that have to do with it?!” I said. My voice was frantic. I was scared to death that Jim or Robin would frig himself. I would have fondled them both myself, but I was frightened of the guards. I knew they would cut me apart just as quickly as they’d cut Jim or Robin. “There should be no infidels in our Kingdom,” the Arab guard told me. He leered at me, then added. “Except a few white female slaves.” I cringed. I said nothing. I prayed the guards lived up to the Prince’s rules; if we obeyed, no harm would come to us. I looked at my aunt, fearfully. I saw she was sitting hunched down on the seat. “Auntie, don’t touch them,” I warned her, speaking of our friends Jim and Robin. “I won’t,” Rebecca replied. Her voice was a murmur, nothing more. She was amused by the men’s penises, but knew that there was a terror underlying it all, a terror that could have dire consequences for us if we disobeyed. “Yeeehoooch!” Robin said. He continued to squirm. The lotion was all over his dick. My aunt had done a great job of wetting every inch of his skin. His cock head, right down to the base of his dick, gleamed with an otherworldly glow. He wriggled his hips on the seat. He thrust upward repeatedly with his dick, which stood exposed, hoping the air might cool him. Only the pre-cum, oozing from his pee slit, gave any hope of relief from the itchy lotion. I wanted to bend over and lick his dick, lollipop-style, but I feared the guards would cut off my tongue. “Please hang on, Robin!” I urged. I clasped his hand. He gripped my fingers. He looked into my eyes. Oh, how I yearned to kiss him! Especially his poor cock! I fought with myself. How I wished to help him, no matter the cost! As I gripped Robin’s hand, our limo pulled under the shady canopy of the desert oasis. The palms grew thick and close, and immediately I felt cooler, even though our limo was air-conditioned. Disappointed looks crossed the guards’ faces as they realized our men would manage to keep from violating the Prince’s rules. Jim and Robin had survived; they would keep their cocks. More guards were waiting for us, at the oasis. They stood under the shade of the palms. Our limo rolled up in front of a squat adobe structure. I guessed it was the “cabin” the prince had spoken of. The guards waiting outside reached for our car’s doors and opened them for us as the limo halted. “Damn!” one of the guards in our limo muttered. “You guys lose. We win,” I chided him. “Shhh!” Rebecca scolded me. There was no sense in provoking the guards, but I couldn’t help myself. They’d threatened to cut off poor Robin’s penis, and Jim’s, and I wanted them to know that we had bested them. We got out. Immediately I felt the desert heat upon me. Children, standing in the road, stared at us. I saw Arab townsfolk peering from the windows of their homes. They owned modest homes, small mud-brick buildings like our cabin. The guards who had been waiting for us showed a grudging respect. Perhaps they thought Jim or Robin would break, and would arrive dickless. As it was, both men got out of the limo displaying massive hard ons; they were proud they’d survived the journey, but embarrassed as heck to be showing off their penises to the villagers and the guards! “This way,” one of the guards said. We were led forward to the small mud-walled building. He took a ring of keys from his belt. He put the largest key into the keyhole of the door. It was a big wooden door, thick and sturdy. He did not turn the key but instead looked at us and said: “My name is Akbar. I wish for you to undress. Take off everything.” “Let us inside,” my aunt answered. She looked askance at the villagers, who stared frankly at us. “No,” Akbar said. “You must undress here, on the doorstep.” “Sir,” Jim said, trying to sound reasonable as he moved his hips back and forth. “Surely you can show some respect for these ladies.” The guard looked at us with gentle eyes, but we were surrounded by men with swords, and he himself had a sword hanging from his belt. He grinned. “You will do as I say. Undress now, in front of our humble villagers, so that your beauty can be admired by them.” “Damn!” my aunt said. I shivered and looked at her. I didn’t like the idea of stripping in front of these obnoxious villagers, who kept staring, but she positively hated it. “Oh. And keep your scarf on,” Akbar told my aunt. “Arab custom.” We stripped. There is no polite way to describe it; we took off our clothes, every scrap, and handed them over to the guards. Jim and Robin looked like Greek statues when they were undressed. My aunt got to keep the scarf that covered her hair, otherwise, she was as naked as me. “Now I will let you inside,” Akbar said. He turned the key in the door. But before pushing the door open, he said, “In here, you will face the ultimate humiliation. It is because you will be free to do as you wish. If the villagers hear you scream through the open windows of this cabin, it will be because of what you yourselves choose to do to each other. “Everything you do here will be filmed, and watched by those at the palace. You will have no privacy, even though it might seem that you do, because, within these four walls, you will be left to yourselves.” Jim frowned. “Are you saying that we’re going to be left alone?” “Yes,” Akbar said. Robin reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Sounds like a honeymoon,” Robin said hopefully. I blushed; I knew where his hard on would be if that were the case! Akbar swung the door to the cabin open. “However,” Akbar said. “This cabin is no ordinary home, or even an ordinary honeymoon suite. It is designed, completely and totally, for the maximum infliction of pain.” My heart missed a beat. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Within the mud-walled structure, I saw an array of evil-looking equipment. It gleamed, like a wet spider’s web, waiting for prey. I felt Robin squeeze my hand, hard, and the pressure of his grip was so tight a short scream was forced from my throat. Immediately I turned, blushing, and gazed at the homes across the street. The villagers stood waiting, silently watching, gazing with their brown eyes in their brown faces at my bare white skin and my long blonde mane of hair. Did they find my pale, unmarked bottom amusing? I wondered. And Robin’s? We stood like white-tailed rabbits at the door to the above-ground dungeon, looking in, like frightened children on our first day of school. It would have been different if we were slaves, absolute slaves, subject to another’s will. But I sensed that the villagers knew that whatever happened to us in this dungeon would be our own doing. If they heard me scream, if they heard Robin moan, it would be because we’d chosen to be bad, not because anyone had forced us. That made me blush even more deeply, and I looked at Rebecca hoping to find answers in her eyes. Instead, I saw the same abject fear, mixed with longing. A kind of virginal loathing mingled with desire. Oh, if only I hadn’t been so in love with Robin! And with Jim! Both men made me tingle all over, and in the most disquieting parts of myself. Rebecca too, I saw, was clinging to Jim’s hand, hoping for salvation in his big body but yearning, too, for release, and for wickedness. I stepped forward. My bare foot touched the hard, cold floor of the interior of the building. I wanted to draw it back, not knowing what had impelled me to enter, but Robin’s hand pressed to my bottom and urged me forward. My other foot followed and I was within, his hands wrapped tightly around my waist. His dick thrust rudely between my legs and pulsed up against my sex. I looked down. I saw his cockhead sticking out from between the front of my thighs. It made me look like I was a boy. “Mmmm,” Robin groaned. He was standing bent-legged behind me, his chest pressed hard to my back, his muscles hard against my soft skin. I could feel his chest flex. I felt the hardness of his thighs against the backs of my legs. Slowly he thrust himself back and forth underneath my sex. His thick, tube-like penis was jammed harshly against the purse of my cunt. It felt as if he was trying to fuck me laterally, by wedging the stem of his cock up hard into the enclasping lips of my sex. Some of the itching lotion on the staff of his cock rubbed off on my cuntlips. My sex, already aroused, began to burn. “Oh, Robin!” I cried. I looked with wide, longing eyes at his cockhead, still sticking rudely out the front of my tight-pressed thighs. “Put yourself in me first, if you must have me!” I felt desperation at his being so close, yet not thrust into me like he should be. “No,” a female voice said. We both turned, Robin and I, at once. Our contact was broken. Only the clasping of our two hands remained, my right in his left. We stood separated, clinging by our fingers, naked as Adam and Eve, staring as if discovered by God. It wasn’t God, of course, who had spoken. It was Rebecca. She had stepped within the room too, and now stood at the doorway. As she stood there, framed by the hot bright sunlight of the desert beyond, Akbar closed the door. It shut, leaving us in semi-darkness. I flinched. Robin did too, but Rebecca stood unmoving. Lights in the room came on, automatically. I felt the presence of eyes watching, of cameras humming. I looked about, frantic to find the places from which we were being watched by the Prince, back at the Palace. “There’s one!” I cried. I saw a small black nozzle placed high up in a corner, where two walls met. Then I saw another, on the ceiling, and another, and another! They were everywhere! The floor, the ceiling, the walls. They were the size of small coins and gleamed opaquely. I felt them zooming in, focusing, observing. I wondered how many of them were trained between my legs, on my cunt, burning now from the shunting back and forth of Robin’s stiff cock. Jim stood beside Rebecca. He held her hand. We were all naked and the men were clearly in agony from the itching lotion that had been spread upon their dicks. Rebecca reached for an object on the wall, next to the door. It was a riding crop. It was made of black leather and about two feet long. It was hung up on a nail by its looped tip. Rebecca grasped it in her soft hand and took it down. She brandished it at us. “There’s only one way we’re going to avoid making complete fools of ourselves,” Rebecca said. She pulled off her scarf. She let go of it and it fluttered to the floor. She looked at us. Her eyes peered into each of us, one by one, and I was both pleased and shocked that she was taking control of the situation. Jim looked around. There were all sorts of evil devices in the room. Cages, a whipping post, a pillory, a medical examination table, and many other things, including an assortment of whips hung from the far wall. There was a trestle, identical to the one Robin had been tied to at the palace, complete with an upright board behind it. There was also a toilet, and toilet paper, but I saw no sink. I also saw no bed. There were, however, several slim mattresses stacked at an angle, standing up against a wall. I saw cushions but no pillows. I saw an array of lotions and oils on a small table. “What do you suggest?” Jim asked. I sensed cameras focussing on his enlarged, sex-hungry organ as he spoke. It dripped pre-cum onto the cold concrete floor. “Well, first of all, there will be no sex,” Rebecca said primly. “What?!” Robin groaned. He heaved his hips forward, practically begging her to take him in hand and jerk him off. Oh, how big he looked! I longed to disobey Rebecca at once and do whatever I might to relieve him. “We shall just have to endure our stay here,” Rebecca said. “But I can’t!” Robin groaned. “I need to cum NOW!” A smile crossed my aunt’s face. It was, I admit, rather amusing to see Robin so desperate. She looked at his hard-on with sympathetic eyes. “I’m afraid you men will have to be put into restraints, and caged,” Rebecca said. “What?” Jim asked. Rebecca looked at Jim. I could feel the cameras lingering on her every private part as she stared at his cock, finally lifting her eyes to his face. “Do you really think you men could spend the night here, perhaps several nights here, without fucking us?” Rebecca asked. “No. Obviously,” Jim said. He offered his penis to her by pushing his hips forward. Rebecca touched the end of Jim’s penis with her finger. immediately it became wet from his drooling pre-cum. She took her finger away and put it to her lips, licked, and smiled. “That’s why I’m going to make you wear restraints, and to get into those cages,” Rebecca said. She pointed. All of us looked. There were a pair of cages, one on top of the other, in the center of the room. They were the perfect size to accept a male, provided he sat down in the cage. In each cage I saw a small bowl, where water or food might be put. “You want us caged, like animals?” Jim asked. Did I sense a quiet thrill in his voice? I don’t know. Robin’s hand tightened upon my own. I squeezed his in reply, did I wish to encourage him to get into one of the cages, so he could be held captive by me? “All three of you will wear restraints,” Rebecca said, including me in her plan, dashing my hopes of being Robin’s mistress. “Oh, auntie!” I cried. “Don’t make me be a slave too!” “We’re all slaves,” Rebecca said. “But we’re going to keep at least a shred of our dignity.” She walked over to a wall where padded leather cuffs hung amidst whips and paddles. She took down several cuffs, plus a key hanging on a ring, and locked one of the cuffs around her own wrist. Then she tried the key in the cuff, and unlocked it. “Good,” Rebecca said. “Here. I want all three of you to put these cuffs on your wrists and your ankles. Plus, we have longer ones hanging here too, on the wall, for your thighs, to be put just above your knees, I assume. And there are cuffs for your arms, to be locked just above your elbows.” I gaped at the array of cuffs my aunt was now taking down off the wall. She selected collars too, all of them made of leather, and padded with fur on the inside. A white one for me, black ones for the men. Feeling silly, but knowing there was probably good sense in the matter, we took the cuffs and collars from my aunt. We buckled each other into them. Robin and Jim helped me. Then I helped them. My aunt watched, holding the riding crop in her hand that she’d taken down from its hook beside the door. When we were properly outfitted, Rebecca examined our cuffs. She put her key into each one, locking it, so we couldn’t remove them. “Very good,” Rebecca said. “Now you will all be hobbled with chains. You will each wear a heavy chain between your ankles. I’ve seen Chloe tease boys before, and even grown men, and get them to chase her around. That won’t be possible once your feet are locked into chains.” “Rebecca!” Jim protested. “Don’t you think you’re going too far? I mean, what if we have to escape?” “We’re prisoners,” Rebecca said. “Let’s be good prisoners, and hopefully the Prince will be good to us.” She put her riding crop to her lips and gently bit into the looped, leather tip. She looked at Jim with her big green eyes. I think that is the moment when our plans changed, though at the time none of us would have been willing to admit that. The men chained their legs. The chains were big and heavy and Jim and Robin did most of the work handling them. When my own legs were bound, and I tried to walk, it was difficult. The chains dragged on the floor, making my feet feel like lead. Only Rebecca remained uncuffed and unchained, though she had donned a small collar, from which she hung the key that might free us all from our bonds. “Get in the cages,” Rebecca said. “Me too?” I piped up, seeing there were only two. Perhaps I hoped my aunt would put me into Robin’s cage. “No, not you,” Rebecca told me. “The men must be fed and watered, and I’ll need your help with that.” “God, this is ridiculous!” Robin said. But I sensed an eagerness in his movements as he watched Rebecca unlock the cage intended for him, the top cage, and then as he climbed up into it. He tried to lift his head once he was inside, and bumped it against the bars forming the roof of his cage. “Ow,” Robin whined. “Turn around in there. Sit down,” Rebecca ordered. Robin obeyed. His foot chain clanked against the bars. He sat down with nervous uncertainty on the bars that formed the floor of his cage. He tried first sitting with one of the bars jammed between the cheeks of his ass; found that uncomfortable, and shifted so that his asscrack rested between two bars. His testicles fell between the bars and hung like ripe fruit into the cage intended for Jim. His foot chain also hung down between the bars making up the floor of his cage. “I feel like a dog at the dog pound,” Robin muttered. I put my hands over my mouth and giggled. At Rebecca’s urging, and with a patting of her small palm upon his behind, Jim got into the cage underneath Robin. At once he became aware of Robin’s balls hanging down and, more importantly, of the boy’s cock. “Hey! He’s dripping pre-cum into my cage!” Jim said. Then he tried lifting his head, only to find that his cage was as small as Robin’s. He banged his head on the bars overhead. “Ouch!” Jim said. “Good heavens!” Rebecca declared. She looked at me and smiled. “Turn around, Jim. Sit down, just like Robin is. I swear, you men are all equally dumb!” Jim’s foot chain scraped along the bars forming the floor of his cage. He turned and sat. He looked up at Robin’s ass, overhead, and at the boy’s balls suspended over him. He reached up and yanked on Robin’s turgid cock. “I could use this thing as a bell pull to call for my dinner,” Jim remarked. “Hey!” Robin hollared. “See?” Jim said. He looked at Rebecca and me. “I pull on this, and the boy yells. It’ll work every time.” I’m sure the people watching us from the Palace were amused by Jim’s humor. Our arrangements to keep them well-watered and fed probably tickled them even more. Rebecca unchained my feet. She said I was being good and that she needed my help. She left the white cuffs on my arms and legs, though, and around my thighs and upper arms. She said I needed them, to remind me that I must do as I was told. “Don’t worry, auntie. I’ll be good,” I said. I wiggled my hips as I said it, for the itching lotion from Robin’s cock was making my cunt feel like there was a match under it. “Well, don’t touch yourself,” Rebecca told me. “Keep your fingers out of your cunt.” “Okay,” I said. I didn’t like not being able to play with myself, or let a man do it for me, but I decided that if Robin and Jim could show self-restraint, I could too. Even if I was just a girl, and younger than both of them. “Now, let’s see. The men each have one doggie bowl, in their cages,” my aunt said. She put a finger to her lips and considered. “Let’s use them for food,” I suggested. “We should at least feed them, if we’re going to keep them locked up.” “Alright,” Rebecca said. “Let’s see if the guards left us something to feed them, then.” “Okay!” I cried. I liked the idea of feeding Jim and Robin, as if they were pets. They were both awfully big pets. Imagine having them forever, as my very own! We found a box of crackers. I tasted them. Crumbs fell from my mouth onto my naked breasts. I brushed them off with my fingers. “Yum! They’re nice and fresh!” I told my aunt. Jim, sitting in his cage, laughed. I glared at him. “Not my bosoms, you bozo. These crackers!” I said. “Oh,” Jim said, not sounding the least bit contrite. My auntie opened each of the men’s cages for me. I leaned in and placed several crackers in each of their bowls. Jim tried to fondle my breasts but Rebecca told him not to. Next, there was the problem of how to water the men. My aunt and I noticed there were several I.V. poles in the room. We also found a faucet, next to the toilet, sticking out of the wall. We filled an empty saline bag with water from the faucet, and then hung up the bag on the I.V. pole. “This is the best we can do, I’m afraid,” Rebecca sighed when she and I had prepared a way for the men to drink. “You can share the I.V.,” Rebecca told the men. “Just release the clamp on the I.V. line and suck from the tip of the I.V. when you need to drink.” “Alright,” Jim and Robin said. “What about if they have to go to the bathroom?” I asked my auntie. She looked over her shoulder at the medical table. “Don’t tell me,” Jim said. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Rebecca said. “I don’t want to have to let you men loose every hour. If I catheterize you, I can leave you both locked up for however long you must be, until the guards let us out.” “Oh, auntie!” I cried. But despite my squeal of horror at seeing the men treated that way, I didn’t beg her not to do it. In fact, I think we all felt a little thrilled at how animal-like and degraded it would make them. Even Robin and Jim, I think, couldn’t resist, among friends, the thought of it. Perhaps they hoped Rebecca’s hands, fondling them, would finally bring their penises much-needed relief as she attempted to jam a catheter up each of their dicks. “Let me start with you, since you’re older,” Rebecca said to Jim. She unhooked the key that hung from her collar. She inserted it into the door of his cage, gazing in at him through the wrought iron bars, and unlocked it. Jim’s cage door creaked as my aunt opened it. “Hmmm. It may need some oil,” my aunt said of the door. She reached within the cage and caught the knob of Jim’s penis with her fingers. They looked small against his large, pulsing cock. Pre-cum oozed forth from his pee slit as she tugged on his dick, making me fear, for a moment, that he was cumming from the pressure of her enclasping touch. But he was not. She pulled on his sausage-like organ and caused him to scoot his ass forward, until his feet hit the floor. His chain followed, clanking onto the floor between his bound ankles. Jim exited his cage at a crouch, careful not to bump his head on the cage above him, where Robin sat. He seemed glad to be out from under Robin’s dripping penis. He had pre-cum in his pubic hair where Robin, sitting above him, had dripped onto his crotch. When he was out of his cage, Jim stood up. He looked like Tarzan, suddenly unbound, caught by trappers in the jungle but free at last. Jim still wore his collar and wrist and ankle cuffs, as well as the leather restraints above his knees and his elbows. He couldn’t unlock them. Only my aunt could do that, with her key. He might have grabbed the key from her collar but he did not. He was a docile Tarzan. Rebecca let go of Jim’s dick and sleeked her fingers along his hips, then up the side of his chest, savoring his tense muscles. At last, sweeping her fingers down his right arm, she caught at the leather cuff above his elbow. The cuffs all had silver rings hanging from them, like ornaments hung from a Christmas tree. I wondered what they were for. My aunt put her finger through one of the rings hanging off the cuff around Jim’s arm. She pulled on it. Is that what the rings were for, I wondered, so a man could be pulled? (Or me, for that matter!) I watched, wide-eyed, as my aunt drew Jim over to the medical exam table. It was made of white formica. Cushions had been form-fitted over the top of it, to ease the suffering of anyone forced to undergo a procedure on it. Rebecca looked up at Jim and patted his arm. “Don’t worry, I’ve had a little nursing,” Rebecca said. “I think I know what I’m doing. It shouldn’t hurt too much.” Jim’s eyes looked at the catheter that hung off an I.V. pole near the base of the table. He looked down at his dick, which swung whenever he moved. I pointed at Jim’s erection. “I’m glad its a long catheter. It’ll have to be, to go all the way up *that*,” I said. Jim looked at Rebecca. He flexed his arm, and she had to struggle to keep her finger in the ring of his cuff, for he drew his arm across his chest, dragging her arm along with his, until at last he had her pulled taut, her arm stretched across the front of his body. Jim scratched his shoulder, but I guessed it didn’t really itch; he just wanted to show her that, even hobbled and cuffed, he was still the more powerful. Rebecca looked up at him, beseechingly. Was he going to be difficult? They both knew he could be impossible to handle if he wished to be. “At least do me one favor,” Jim said to my aunt. “What?” she asked. Her lips formed a pretty O as she spoke the word. “Tie her up,” Jim said, and pointed at me. “What?!” I screeched. “It’s bad enough I have to sit in a cage, without her wiggling her little bare bottom all over the room,” Jim said. “You’re quite right,” Rebecca agreed. “No! Auntie! I don’t want to be tied!” I shouted. My voice was high-pitched and I immediately blushed, guessing that the neighbors, the people who lived in the mud-walled huts around ours, must have heard me. I ran from my aunt and Jim. Rebecca dashed after me. Lickety-split, like a rabbit trying to escape a wolf, I ran with my white bottom-cheeks pumping hard, their soft cheeks bouncing in time to my feet hitting the floor. I ran to the door. I tried the knob. No use; it was locked! I ran to a window, my aunt following close behind me, and threw back the opaque curtains. The window was open, the air-conditioning of our room rushing out of it, forming a breeze at my back. But I could not climb through. As with the windows in our bedroom at the Palace, this window had bars over it. Iron bars, like the bars of the cages the men were kept in. My aunt caught my hair. I tried to pull away. She grabbed at one of the rings hanging off the cuff round my arm. I was captured. I could not escape. Then, a most curious thing happened. She turned me and pressed her face to mine. Her lips sought, mine opened in surprise. I felt my breath exhale and go into her mouth. Yet she did not take her face from mine but instead pressed harder, engaging my wide-apart lips in a full, open-mouthed kiss. “Auntie!” I gasped, when at last Rebecca drew her face off mine. I was tangled in the curtains, my body between them, and I realized the Arabs outside, staring from their homes, must have seen my aunt kissing me in the window. “I’m going to spank your little bottom,” Rebecca said to me. Her eyes danced with amusement but there was no mistaking the threatening tone in her voice. “No! Auntie!” I cried. I twisted in her arms, which had slipped around me as she kissed me. She was taller than me and I looked up at her in wide-eyed apprehension. “Yes,” Rebecca said. “This is the perfect place for it. With the Prince watching, with the neighbors hearing, yet in a place where we will never be again, if the Prince does as he’s promised and lets us go.” “Oh, auntie!” I shrieked. Jim came up beside us and stood close to me. He took hold of one of my arms so that I couldn’t escape again. “Put her face down on the pillory table,” Jim suggested. “Yes!” my aunt agreed. “You mustn’t!” I shouted. Wriggling, fighting both of them, I was dragged over to a table that stood at waist-height. At its foot there were clamps where a person’s legs could be held apart. At its head was a wooden pillory, with holes in it for one’s head and hands. My aunt pushed me onto the table. It was made of bare wood. She forced me to lie down. Jim helped her. With a moan I found myself lying on my tummy, my breasts cushioning me but otherwise quite uncomfortable upon the hard wood of the table’s surface. My chin was lifted and my head was pulled forward until my neck was through the pillory. Padding in the neck hole, plus the fact that it lay flush against the table’s surface, kept me from being impossibly discomforted. There was no padding in the arm holes and my wrists were rudely thrust through them. Then the pillory was shut upon me and locked with the same key Rebecca used for the cages and for our cuffs. It was quite a handy key, I realized. I wondered if it unlocked the front door too. With my head and hands bound, Rebecca and Jim went to work on my feet. There would be no stealing of Rebecca’s key and trying the front door for me! They separated my legs, widely, and then affixed them to clamps at the base of the table. The clamps were made of steel and felt cold against my legs. I shivered. “Oil her anus,” Jim said. “We are not doing all this to give your penis a joy ride,” Rebecca scolded. “She should worry that she might be used for a man’s pleasure,” Jim said. “Oh, alright,” Rebecca relented. “But don’t jump on her the minute I’m done.” “I won’t,” Jim answered. They both seemed to be smiling but I couldn’t see, lying where I was, face down on the table, with my head through the pillory. Then I found a mirror in front of me, sitting innocuously but with a full view of the room behind me. I guessed it was so someone in my position could watch her punishment being applied. I wished I could smash it, when I realized that, but it was impossible. I was bound hand and foot! I watched as my aunt went to a small table and selected a bottle of lotion. She returned to where I lay and bent over my bottom. “This is going to make you squirm, Chloe,” my aunt said. “What?!” I cried. “Not just my finger, but the lubricant too,” my aunt said. “It’s not ordinary lubricant.” “No! Auntie!” I shouted. “What is it?” Jim asked. “The same stuff you’ve got on your dick,” my aunt said. “Good,” Jim replied. “Let her have a taste of it.” “I already do!” I shouted. By now I was paying no attention at all to the fact that the neighbors could hear us. “I’ve got some on my cunt, where Robin’s penis rubbed!” “Well, this is going up your bottom,” my aunt said. She laughed. “I’m sorry, dear Chloe, but I can’t resist. I want to see you lying here, wriggling your bare ass all around, while you wait for your punishment.” “What?!” I gasped. “Yes,” Rebecca said. “You’re going to wait for it, Chloe. Your little bottom is going to squirm and squirm as you wait for HOURS to get your spanking. Which, I might add, you richly deserve, considering how lenient I’ve been with you all these weeks. Your ass will be mighty sore when I get through with you, but I’ll bet you’ll be perfectly behaved when we go home!” “Oooooh! No! Please, auntie!” I shouted. At once I felt her hand descend to my fanny. I heartily wished to feel it slap me, to prove she’d only been teasing about tormenting me with the waiting, but I only felt the touch of my aunt’s finger. Gently, it prised between my cheeks. It found my rose. It pushed. I squealed. It pushed a little more and then I felt two fingers holding my hole open, as if to see if I had any poop in me. A dribbling of liquid touched my anus. I shouted. I twisted in my bonds. Oh, how that lotion burned against my skin! Jim laughed. My aunt giggled, and poured more into me, then rubbed it all around my small puckered hole and pressed it in deep with her finger. They had to gag me, I was yelling so loudly. They spared my cunt but they oiled my bottomhole as deeply as they could, Rebecca using her finger, and then Jim using his, pushing it in deep and laughing as I bucked on the table. “Don’t pee on the table, or I’ll run a catheter up you,” Rebecca warned me. I stared at her self-pityingly through the mirror but she only smiled and laughed. “You’ll be quite fine, dear Chloe,” she said. “The lotion is quite safe, even for your tender bottomhole, though it is designed to cause you to think about your hole, and all your naughty ways too!” I felt the leather of my collar, binding my neck. I felt the leather in the neckhole of the pillory pressing against my throat. My hands tried to withdraw from the pillory’s hand holes; I could not draw them back. I wriggled my feet. The clamps on my ankles held them fast. I curled my toes, as if to take them to market, but they remained kidnapped by the clamps on my legs which held them at the end of the table. I lifted my hips as much as my bonds would allow. Oh, how my anus burned! It itched and glowed with fire, concentrating my thoughts, drawing my mind toward it until all I could think about was my asshole! Abjectly, squeezing my naked ass and with tears running from my eyes, I looked at Jim in the mirror. I sniffled. I tasted the gag in my mouth and did not want it. Yet I felt a strange consolatory desire. I wanted to hate my aunt, to hate Jim too, and yet I did not. Instead, despite my pain and discomfort, I found myself enthusing over Jim’s beauty! Though he had just finished sticking his broad finger up my bottom, giving me grief, all I could think of was how huge his body looked, how wonderful his muscles, and how perfectly shaped his organ of manhood. To think that my aunt was going to stick a catheter in it! The thought of Jim submitting to that, of enduring it, drove all thoughts out of my mind except the one whining, burning thought that endured above all of how my bottomhole hurt. “It’s good that you have some lotion in your poop hole,” my aunt laughed, still standing over me. She was stroking Jim’s cock, carefully, with her fingers, yet gazing at my ass. “When you are fucked dear Chloe, by both Jim and Robin, up that sweet little ass of yours, it is going to feel uncomfortable, both while they’re doing it to you and afterwards. So the lotion will help prepare you for it, by hurting you a little now, so that you may endure a greater hurt later.” Jim looked at Rebecca. There was a predatory light in his eyes. His penis, already hard, seemed to take on a greater stiffness and to elongate. “Is she a virgin?” Jim asked. He sounded hopeful, saying it, yet I guessed if my aunt said ‘yes’, I could not expect to leave this room as one! Pre-cum welled at the tip of Jim’s cock and dripped onto the small of my back. “She is quite sexually inexperienced,” my aunt replied. “She didn’t have any boyfriends until this summer. And, as you can see, she is only 13. Her bottom has yet to truly fill out. Why, I think you could span her hips with your hand, could you not, Jim?” “Yes, almost,” Jim answered. He placed his big hand on my bottom, spreading his fingers out, and nearly encompassed the entire bulge of both my cheeks. His touch was gentle, despite the fact that they’d threatened to spank me. He felt the springiness of my ass, and I sensed he was savoring it. “Would you like to do the honors?” my aunt asked softly. She still stroked his dick, though with just her fingertips, lest Jim baptize my bare upturned ass with his jism. “I-- You mean, to fuck her up the ass?” Jim asked. “I mean, to spank her. And to pop her cherry,” my aunt said. (I wasn’t quite without knowledge of having a man there, but I guess she decided I was so young and tight that Jim wouldn’t know the difference.) “Hey, what about me?” Robin piped up. I couldn’t believe he said that. I mean, he was only 15, close to me in age. Surely he wasn’t going to reduce me to a virgin a-hole, waiting to be popped! “What’s the matter, Robin?” my aunt asked. She turned and looked at him in his cage. “Do you need more water?” she asked. “More crackers?” “I need to fuck, and as the youngest, I should get first dibs on her asshole!” Robin said. He sounded indignant. “Oh, my!” Rebecca said. “I can’t give her away to both of you. I mean, ONE of you is going to have to settle for ‘sloppy seconds’, if you both insist on having her ass.” (What an aunt, huh? First she takes me to a faraway land and gives me to a wicked prince, now she’s trying to decide which of two men fuck my ass!) I sighed. I felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks. My bottom churned, my hips rising and falling, my tender cheeks squeezing repeatedly in an attempt to drive the burning heat from my bottomhole. I felt if the men had wanted to light cigarettes with my ass, it would have been very easy. Just open my asscheeks and stick in the tip. My anus would light it, no problem! “I have the perfect answer, though it’s dirty as Hell,” Jim laughed. He seemed to be enjoying my predicament. “What?” my aunt asked. They looked like Adam and Eve, standing there together, both of them utterly bare, contemplating me. Was I the snake? No, Robin owned the snake. He began furtively rubbing his snake now that my aunt was once again staring at me. “Her ass is hot,” Jim said. “And my dick’s had enough heat for one day. And I don’t want to upset Robin by taking her first. So, there’s only one answer.” “Yes?” my aunt asked. Jim turned and looked toward the wall and I followed his eyes. They came to rest on a phalanx of tall dildos. Hanging above them was a harness strap. “You must fuck her,” Jim said. I screamed, but my gag caught my protest and drowned it in me. My aunt shouted. Then she broke into giggles. “Sure,” Jim said. “We’ll have you use a ball attachment, and fill it with baby oil. You can use the baby oil to wash out her bottom, pumping the oil into her as you ream her, so Robin and I don’t get our dicks burned when we fuck her. Plus, you’ll open her up more, so it’s easier for us. I would really like to see it; I’ve had virgins before, but to see you fucking little Chloe, an aunt fucking her niece, what a turn on!” “God!” Robin said from his cage. My aunt turned and regarded him. “Robin! Stop playing with your penis!” my aunt admonished. “Oh, God! I can’t help it! It itches too much!” Robin replied. As he spoke he reached for the I.V. catheter. He drew his hands off himself and unclamped it. Then, even though nobody had given him permission, he squirted I.V. water all over his penis. My aunt walked over to him, quickly, but by the time she’d gotten the key unhooked from her collar and his cage door open, Robin had already spilled water all over himself. The excess of water squirted down through the bars he was sitting upon and into Jim’s cage. It ran through the bars forming the floor of Jim’s cage and made a puddle upon the floor. “You are naughty, Robin!” my aunt scolded. She took the I.V. out of his hands. It squirted up onto her breasts and Robin laughed. Jim laughed too, seeing it. I wished my aunt would drag the I.V. pole over to me and squirt my bottomhole with it. My aunt managed to get the I.V. line clamped again, though there was very little water left in the bag. Robin, seeing her occupied, attempted to climb down out of his cage, but Jim stopped him. “We can obviously overpower her at any time and do as we wish,” he told Robin. “Try to obey. You will find that, at times, there is enjoyment in cooperating with a woman and being obedient to her.” “I just want to cum,” Robin said frankly. Jim closed the door to Robin’s cage. My aunt, trusting him, tossed Jim her key. Jim locked Robin’s cage so he couldn’t get out. “Would you like me to fill up the bag again?” Jim asked, looking at the I.V. pole. “Yes,” my aunt said. “We may be here awhile. You men will need to drink and you’ll need to pee too. When you’ve got the bag filled, Jim, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to lie down on the medical table.” “Of course, mistress,” Jim answered. “God, I hate being dominated by a woman,” Robin said from his cage. “We are serving her. It’s different from being dominated,” Jim answered. He unhooked the bag from the I.V. pole. “Every man should want to serve a woman,” Jim said. “I just want to fuck Chloe,” Robin replied. “Chloe is a child,” my aunt told him. “Still, I want to fuck her,” Robin said. “Either let me fuck her, or I’ll jerk off!” He put his hand on his dick. “No!” Rebecca said. “Please don’t, Robin. I know your balls are aching. But you must learn control. Don’t just shoot yourself off every time you’re in the mood. You’re not sitting at home with Hustler now, you’re with real females, and being trained to serve them properly. Your sperm isn’t to be wasted in the toilet, or on the floor, or in the palm of your hand. We have plans for it, Robin, so hang on to it and take pride in how a full pair of balls makes you so erect.” “I’m erect whether or not I’ve got sperm in my balls,” Robin answered. “Heck, I’ll be sitting in Algebra, and what happens? I get erect. I’m not even thinking about girls, not much, anyway, and *pop* up comes my dick, and what am I supposed to do? Unzip myself in the middle of Algebra?” Rebecca laughed. Her bosoms shook with her laughter. I might have giggled, myself, but I was gagged. “Oh, the travails of being a boy,” Rebecca said. “Here we girls have to learn about childbirth, and periods, and be teased as our breasts grow, but you boys still complain, because you have to put up with your silly erections!” “It’s not funny.” Robin said. “You’d understand if you had one.” “OH, and why are you erect?” Rebecca asked. “Because you’re thinking of raping children, isn’t that right, Robin? Of fucking the girls in your Algebra class!” “Plus my teacher,” Robin said. His face looked artless and I admired his honesty. “Yes, of course, such a pain it is, to have a big penis and be thinking about fucking the entire planet,” Rebecca mocked. “Put one on,” Jim suggested. “I think you have a case of penis envy, Rebecca!” He was filling the I.V. bag at the faucet in the wall, next to the toilet. He glanced at the row of dildos on a shelf on the wall. They looked like missiles, waiting to be launched. Right up my bottom! “I do feel a little jealous,” Rebecca said. She thrust forward her hips. She looked down at herself, at her chestnut muff, so pretty and curly, but with nothing there save, underneath, the lips of her cunt. She put a hand on her flat, smooth belly. “I’d like to have a penis. What’s it like, Jim? Running around with your big dick and popping girl’s cherries and making them pregnant?” “Er, I wouldn’t know,” Jim replied. “Come on, Jim!” my aunt said. She ran her fingers through the long hair hanging down from her head, and swept it back. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten anyone pregnant?” “Maybe one or two,” Jim said. “You don’t care, do you?” my aunt said. “I mean, if a girl doesn’t have anything you might catch from her, you’ve no reason to wear a condom, do you?” “Condoms take the fun out of it,” Robin said. “Oh, so you’d rather get somebody pregnant?” Rebecca asked him. Robin, who was nothing if not honest, replied, simply and straightforwardly, “Not my problem.” “Ohhhh, you men!” Rebecca said. But at once, sashaying her hips with womanly allure, she walked over to the dildos and began examining them. I shivered-- I knew where the one she selected was going! I tried to speak but my gag kept my jaws apart and my tongue pushed back. I could only make babyish sounds, in my throat. I was ignored. Jim finished filling up the I.V. bag and walked over to the cages. He hung up the bag next to Robin. He passed the boy the tip of the I.V. through the bars. “Here, drink up, so you can pee later,” Jim told Robin. He looked at Robin’s hard on, his own penis stiff and erect. “I don’t want to,” Robin answered. “Drink it, or I’ll shove it in your dick and fill up your bladder with it,” Jim ordered. He squeezed the I.V. bag, showing the boy that he intended to get the water into Robin one way or the other. “Shit. Okay, I’ll drink the fucking thing then,” Robin said. Angrily he took the I.V. from Jim. The man unclamped the I.V. line and Robin, sucking upon it, began gulping. “God, some of these are so long,” Rebecca said, examining the dildos. She selected one of moderate size, and took down the harness from the wall. I nearly fainted, watching her. I flexed my bottomcheeks and prayed she found Jim’s ass more tempting than mine. “You’ll have to help me get this on,” my aunt told Jim. The harness was made of slim rubber tubing, similar to the material used for a tourniquet when you get your blood drawn. It looked insubstantial, as if the whole thing would be too light and flimsy to hold the dildo my aunt had chosen to wear. “Alright,” Jim said. “Did you pick a dildo with balls?” “Yes,” my aunt answered. And, indeed, the penis she was holding in her hands had a big rubber testicle sac at its base. There was a small plastic stopper in it, so it could be filled up and sealed. Then the only way the fluid inside could escape would be if my aunt squeezed the balls. How strange it was, to be lying gagged on the wooden table, waiting for my bottom to be warmed, and my hole cooled! At the moment the air of the room, chilled by the air conditioner, made my bottom feel uncomfortably cold. At the same time, the lotion spread in my anus made my butthole burn. But soon, the situation would be the reverse! My pillaged anus would feel cool from having baby oil squirted within it, while my ass, well-spanked, would feel all hot and bothered. Suddenly I knew the true nature of bondage-- to take the body and make it a living, feeling work of art, focused on the privates. As I lay worrying over my ass, Robin sat in his cage, his penis itching with the lotion and burning with desire. Jim too had a tormented penis, while my aunt, Rebecca, looked even more womanly as she played with a fake penis, pressing it to her brown-haired muff and laughing. I watched as Jim helped my aunt get into her dildo harness. They paused several times to kiss as he fitted her into it. When at last they were done, Rebecca dueled with Jim for a moment. She batted with her fake cock at his real one. Both penises quivered. They were like cannons, facing off in a battle, except they could touch one another if they wished to. How I swooned, seeing myself surrounded by hard dicks! Everyone had one, except me, and I felt all girlish inside, and trapped, and vulnerable. I flexed my legs and tried to close my spread thighs but the clamps held me firmly apart. I prayed to be spared so many penises. They were exciting to look at but surely I couldn’t take all three! “Now, Jim,” my aunt said. “Let’s get you on the exam table. It’s time I catheterized that big penis of yours.” She looked strange, speaking to him in her soft, feminine voice, but with a big penis hanging off the front of her muff. She wiggled it a little as she spoke, holding it at its base with her fist. I think she was genuinely proud of it. “Alright, mistress,” Jim said. “No, Jim,” Rebecca said, fisting her dick. “I’m not your mistress anymore.” “You aren’t?” Jim asked. “I’m your father,” Rebecca said. “Not a chance,” Jim said. “I’m not gay. Plus, for a father, you’ve got a swell pair of tits.” “I’m your ambidextrous mistress, then,” Rebecca said. “I think you mean something else,” Jim answered. He turned and walked toward the medical table, dragging his foot chain with his ankles. “Amphibious?” my aunt asked. She watched with joy as the penis between her legs waggled with her every step. “It starts with an A,” Jim said. He sat his bare ass on the edge of the medical table. Then, with a cautious glance at my aunt and her newfound penis, he laid back on the table. “Spread your legs, dear Jim,” my aunt told him. “Shit,” Jim said. He opened his thighs so she could easily fondle his balls. At once my aunt did, squeezing them in her small hand and telling him, “I don’t want you spurting all this wonderful sperm out as I’m putting the catheter up you, okay?” “Alright,” Jim groaned. “I mean, really,” my aunt said. “I know you’re dying to shoot. And God-- you’re full enough to create your own Niagara. But I want you filling Chloe’s little bottomhole with it. The guards would laugh, I think, if they walked in and found a big puddle of sperm on the medical exam table.” “No doubt,” Jim agreed. “Plus Robin will have to lie here too, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to lie in your sperm,” Rebecca said. “You got that,” Robin said from his cage. Jim tilted his head back and looked at Robin. “Keep drinking, young man,” Jim said. “What are you, my father?” Robin asked. His voice was insolent. “You’ll do as he says or I’ll have him spank you!” Rebecca said to Robin. Jim laughed. “Shit if I’ll allow that,” Robin said. “You know I could do it,” Jim threatened. “You think you could take me?” Robin asked. “Boys! Boys!” Rebecca said. “We’re our own little family here, even if we are the world’s sexiest family. Robin, Chloe has to obey me, because she’s younger. And even though you’re 15, Jim is a decade older than you, so I expect you to do as he tells you, okay?” “I don’t like obeying,” Robin sulked. “It’s sexual obedience, Robin,” my aunt told him. “That’s different from obeying your parents. Be good and do as you’re told. You’re not gay, and neither is Jim, but you both must be trained. Sexually trained, Robin. You will be stronger for it when you’re through. Imagine, would you have held back your sperm this long if you were by yourself?” “‘Course not,” Robin answered, in his blunt, honest way. “See?” Rebecca said. “So you are learning already. Be good and you’ll learn some more.” That seemed to settle the matter, for Robin said no more. Although I could see, from my mirror, that he longed to jerk himself off as he sat all by himself in his cage, he didn’t. He sat uncomfortably on the bars, his hands rubbing his thighs, and sometimes his belly, and sometimes even his pubic hair, but never touching his penis. Jim, meanwhile, lay on the medical table, his cock stiff as a flagpole, watching as Rebecca uncoiled an I.V. line and prepared to insert it into his manhood. When Rebecca had placed one end of the I.V. line into an empty saline bag, she walked over to me. She carried the I.V. line and bag with her. She put her hand to my gag and loosened it. “Here. Open your mouth,” Rebecca told me. “Wet the tip of this I.V. line on your tongue so I can slide it more easily up Jim’s cock.” I obeyed. Despite my fright at what they promised to do to me, I licked the tip of the I.V. line. Then I actually lifted my face and sucked on it. Rebecca laughed and finally pulled it from between my lips. “Very good,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps I shall leave your gag off and let you talk if you wish. Do you need anything? A drink? A bite to eat?” “I can’t eat lying on this table,” I answered. “Of course you can,” Rebecca said. “I’ll sit here and feed you some crackers if you wish. You can be my little pet.” “I don’t want to be your pet,” I said. “You did a very good job of wetting the end of this I.V., so don’t make me scold you,” Rebecca said. “Now you can watch as Jim suffers a little. Enjoy it-- a man getting his for a change.” I watched. My aunt looked bold and authoritative as she returned to Jim, the big penis between her legs waggling salaciously even as she walked with a hip grinding sashay. Jim watched too. He seemed entranced by how sexy my aunt looked, wearing that big hunky dildo between her slim legs. She was the perfect Domme, quite well equipped to put a man in his place! “Oh, auntie! Stick it up Jim’s bottom!” I squealed, seeing how tempting that big cock between her legs looked. Imagine it impaling Jim’s small manly buns! “I will if he isn’t good,” my aunt said. She walked over to the table where there were lotions and pots of cream and smeared a little vaseline on the end of the I.V. Then she returned to the medical table and stroked Jim’s penis. She complimented its size, smiled at him, and then said, “Alright, Jim. Let’s see if you can handle this.” Rebecca squeezed the head of Jim’s cock, not side to side but with her thumb on top and her index finger underneath, so as to open his pee hole. It mouthed its pee hole mouth at her, and she stuck the tip of the I.V. into it. “Aughgh!” Jim groaned. “Keep your legs apart!” Rebecca warned. “Must I tie them?” she asked. “No,” Jim said. His eyes bulged as he looked at the I.V. line sticking out of his dick. It had a long way to go before it pierced his bladder, and he knew it. “Just relax,” Rebecca told Jim. “I’ve got to thread this all the way up you, until it slips past the base of your bladder. Then the tip of this line, that Chloe licked for you, will be inside you-- in your bladder. Your pee will automatically run down the line and out into the bag.” “Oh, great. Just what I need, a bag full of my pee that everyone can look at,” Jim said. Then he grimaced as my aunt stuck more of the I.V. line into him, jamming it up his stiff dick. “Don’t cum,” my aunt said. “Stop me if you think you’re going to. Otherwise, don’t say anything. I expect you to be quiet and take this like a man.” “Like a man? I feel like a woman!” Jim said, feeling the long plastic line being inserted in his dick. My aunt worked efficiently, threading him, then looked up from his dick and said, “I expect you to drink a lot from the I.V. pole beside your cage, and to pee it all into this empty saline bag that you’ll carry around with you. Oh, and don’t let your line get caught on anything. I have to inflate a small balloon at the end of your line, the part that’s in your bladder, to keep it in place inside of you. If this line were to get caught on something, or to be pulled on by someone, it could be quite painful. So don’t disobey. You may find me pulling on your line if you do!” “Shit! The things I get myself into,” Jim groaned. “What about me?” Robin piped up, from his cage. “I have to watch the whole thing, knowing I’m next!” Rebecca laughed. The dick suspended between her creamy legs bounced. “Yes, I’m going to fuck two men today, with catheters, and quite enjoy it,” she said. She didn’t mention me, but I knew I would be fucked too, unless there was some way I could escape! “Ugh! I can feel it!” Jim said. He flexed his knees. “Oh! There goes your pee!” my aunt announced. She watched with delight as yellow fluid ran down the inside of the catheter and off the end of the table, then deposited itself in the I.V. bag on the floor. Jim sat up on the table. “What?! Did I just go to the bathroom?” Jim asked. “Yep. In the bag!” my aunt said. She bent down and picked up the I.V. bag. Quite a lot of fluid was in it, all of it yellow, all from inside Jim! “You must have had to go pretty badly,” my aunt said. “I guess so,” Jim answered. He stared at the bag. “How often is that going to happen?” “What?” my aunt asked. “The pee running out of me like that. I barely felt it.” “Oh, all the time!” my aunt said. “You have no control over yourself now, Jim dear. At least not over your bladder. I still expect you to control your balls. We don’t need to have you filling this bag with sperm!” “Oh, shit!” Jim said. He turned to get off the medical table. But with a chain around his ankles and a catheter running out of his dick, he quickly became tangled. “Careful!” my aunt said. “You can’t just do as you please now, Jim, unless you want to yank your bladder to pieces. You’re stuffed with tubing! Exercise caution-- think like a girl would, and you should do okay.” “Great. Just what I need,” Jim said. “It’s the perfect form of domination,” my aunt smiled. “Now let’s help Robin onto the table, so he can feel what it’s like to be cautious and careful too!” “I don’t want to get a tube stuck up my dick!” Robin protested. “You do too, because if you don’t, I’ll spank you!” Jim said. “With a tube hanging out of your dick?” Robin asked. Rebecca laughed. “What a sight that would make!” she said. “One man spanking another, and both of them with urethral catheters up their dicks!” “Family values,” Jim grunted. “Hell, I should go home to my parents,” Robin said. “Why did I run away from home, to be spanked by some man with tubing stuck up his dick?” “Look at me!” I shouted from across the room. Rebecca unlocked Robin’s cage. She reached into it and caught hold of his stiff cock. She pulled on it; and him. “Ow!” Robin said. “That’s a penis, not a handle!” Grudgingly he let my aunt draw him out of his cage. When he had dropped to the floor, his bare feet on the concrete, Jim took hold of one of his arms. “This way, son,” Jim said. “Yes, father,” Robin answered. I stared at them. How handsome they looked! I wondered if Robin could feel the heat from Jim’s body as the older man guided him across the room to the medical table. My aunt kept a hand on Robin’s dick, tugging him along, while with her other hand she wiggled the big fake cock suspended at her bush. “Mmmm, up on the table, Robin,” my aunt said affectionately. Robin looked at the table with apprehension. Jim patted his bare ass. “Hey!” Robin said. “Get up on the table,” Jim said. “Or I’ll make this ass of yours red.” Robin climbed up on the table. He climbed like a boy mounting a jungle gym, hefting himself up onto the table without first turning around. Jim and Rebecca watched his bare ass, and the sac of sperm hanging underneath, as he hoisted himself up onto the table. When he was on the table, Robin lay down, on his stomach. “No, no,” my aunt said. “Don’t lie on your penis, Robin. Roll over onto your back.” “I don’t want to,” Robin said. Jim lifted his hand. Robin looked up at it, but did nothing. WHACK! Jim’s hand slammed down onto Robin’s bare butt. “Owwww!” Robin yelled. His hands flew to his ass. As he rubbed it, frantically, he rolled over onto his back. “I didn’t know you spanked so hard,” Robin said ruefully. He looked up at Jim. His penis stood up erectly as he lay on the medical table, with Rebecca and Jim leaning over him. “I think our patient is ready now, mistress,” Jim said to Rebecca. “Thank you, doctor, for ensuring his compliance,” Rebecca replied. “You fuckers are weird,” Robin said. But he let Rebecca open his legs, and fondle his balls, as Jim walked over to a shelf and pulled down an empty saline bag and an I.V. line. Jim carried his pee bag as he walked. I watched his pee sloshing in it. I got to lick the tip of Robin’s I.V. line. Then my aunt put some vaseline on it so it would be nice and slick. As Jim and my aunt both slid the catheter into Robin’s dick, I saw more pee come out of Jim’s penis and slide down his I.V. line into his pee bag. I’m not sure he was even aware of it, that he was going to the bathroom even as he catheterized Robin. One who is catheterized can go to the bathroom without noticing. At last Robin was done. He got up off the table. He walked over to me and showed me what they’d done to him. There was already pee in his pee bag. I watched as, with no control over it on his part, Robin made more urine and it went into the bag. 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. Find the box labelled “Main Archive”. Change “Main Archive” to “Complete Archive”. Next, do you see a blank box labelled “Power Search” ? Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen that has “Power Search” written next to it. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over a decade, it’s Alessandra’s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY 10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102. Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----