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Subject: {ASSM} night games, chapter two
Date: Fri, 4 Jan 2002 10:10:09 -0500
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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
Night Games
Chapter Two
"I've laid out some clothes for you," Sasha told her daughter
on Friday afternoon, almost a week after their intimate discussion.
Little had been said since, but the girl had managed not to succumb any
more to the temptations of the flesh in the boy's bathroom. Or, if she
had, she hadn't been caught. They'd gone together to the doctor's
office. To Sasha's relief the girl had been given a clean bill of
health. And she had been started on the little blue pills, which she
now took every day. And her mother had bought her a bigger bra, she was
growing fast.
"Alright," Cindy said, coming out of the bathroom. She was
wrapped in a towel and her hair was still wet from being shampooed in
the bathtub. She had done it herself, for almost the first time. In
Idaho her mother had still washed her hair for her.
"Did you take a very good bath and get all the dirt off from
playing stick ball out back?" Sasha asked Cindy.
"Yes mom," Cindy said. The girl was beaming. She had beaten
the neighborhood boys at stick ball, and now she was going to her
mother's party! Dave would take them. She liked Dave. She thought he
was quite handsome. And she had an inkling Dave liked her, though she
didn't try to think of that too often because she didn't want to steal
him from her mother.
Cindy went into her bedroom. It still had some of the
trappings of childhood, a clown on the wall from her room in Idaho, a
measuring tape that she had nearly outgrown, decorating the back of her
door. She went to her bed and cast her towel down on it. She looked at
herself in a full length mirror her mother had bought for her when they
arrived in L.A., when she insisted on being able to dress fashionably
like the girls at her school. She was painfully slender, but at the
same time her tits stuck out like twin ripe apples, well maybe a little
bigger than apples, Cindy told herself, cupping them gently. Her
nipples were pink and had a tendency these days to be excited and stand
up in little points. Her bush below her belly was just filling in,
blonde like the hair on her head, and wet like the hair on her head just
at this moment. She picked up her towel off the bed and did a better
job drying her little hairs down there. She felt a sudden arousal as
she did so. She rubbed lower. A guilty look came to her face. She had
the feeling now like she had when she sucked the boys. It was a
pleasant feeling, unbidden, but delightful when it came upon her. She
rubbed harder. Her mother heard her utter a sudden:
"Oooh!"
"Cindy, are you getting dressed?" Sasha called from her own
bedroom just down the hall.
"Yes mommie," Cindy answered, throwing her towel down on her
bed and, in her sudden embarrassment, reverting to her mother's more
childish name. Cindy went to her chest of drawers, painted white with
little ceramic flowers affixed to it. Well, at least her pussy hair was
dry now, she told herself. She opened the top drawer in her chest of
drawers, to get out some panties. To her shock the drawer was empty.
Instead there was a note inside. It was in her mother's handwriting.
It read, "Dearest, you won't need underpants tonight. Just wear what
I've laid out on your bed." Cindy turned. She regarded now, for the
first time really, what her mother had put on her bed for her. She had
tossed her towel on top of the clothes. She hurried over to them and
retrieved the towel before it got her clothes too wet. She tossed the
towel on top of the clown-decorated hamper that was in her bedroom.
"Cindy, did you dry your hair?" Sasha called to her daughter.
Cindy looked guiltily in her mirror. Of course she hadn't. Her hair
was long and it seemed to take forever to dry with the teddy bear blow
drier she kept in her bedroom.
"I will, mom," Cindy said.
"Dry your hair BEFORE you dress, Cindy," Sasha, dressing in her
own bedroom, called to her daughter.
"Alright mom," Cindy said. She did as her mother said, and
examined the clothes laid out for her on her bed as she did so. There
was a garter belt, which she had only ever seen on her mother. This one
was smaller, just her size, she realized, picking it up with one hand
and placing it awkwardly against her belly. It came with funny-looking
straps that hung down and had bothersome clasps at the ends of them.
Also laid out on her bed were long stockings. But they were not like
stockings she had ever worn to school. They were sheer, like the panty
hose her mom wore, and they reminded her of stockings she had once seen
her mother wear, along with the strange-looking garter belt. These were
white, to match the garter belt, which was also white, along with the
straps that hung down from the belt. She felt her bare toes kick
something and when she looked down she saw, halfway under her bed, a
pair of white shoes. She laid down the garter belt and picked up one of
the shoes. It had a high heel. She felt a sudden surge of delight.
She had never worn heels before, not in her own size, that is, though
she had played in her mother's heels once or twice. In fact mom had
forbidden her to buy shoes with heels, though she had asked for some
when she saw them once in a store in Idaho, and just a week and a half
ago when she saw them again in a store in L.A. Now here they were, laid
out just for her, along with the funny belt and the stockings. She
would dress like a woman tonight, not like some little girl who got
dirty playing stick ball. Proudly Cindy examined the blouse her mother
had laid out for her. It was cut daringly low in front, and fell to the
tops of her thighs. It was frilly without being excessively
little-girlish, a kind of blend of innocence, for it was white like the
stockings and shoes, and sexiness, for who would cut the front of a
blouse so low if not to show off the young tits of the girl who was
wearing it?
Cindy looked around for her dress. There was none on the bed.
"Mom, where did you put my dress?" Cindy called out to her
mother. There was a long pause. Finally, from her bedroom, her mother
answered,
"There isn't a dress, honey."
"What?" Cindy asked. The idea of not wearing panties had been
intriguing, but to not wear a dress?! "Am I wearing jeans?" Cindy asked
hopefully.
"No. It's not that kind of party, dear. I told you it's for
adults," Cindy's mom answered.
"But you wore a dress the last time Dave took you," Cindy said.
"This is a different party, with different rules," Cindy's mom
said, and she was in the child's doorway suddenly, and the girl almost
fell over with shock to see her. Cindy's mom was not dressed in
clothes. She had on a black leather bra which had no apparent utility,
for it did not cup her mother's breasts at all and didn't even conceal
them, allowing them to wobble free and naked like ornaments put on
display. In what was obviously only a temporary gesture of modesty,
Cindy's mom had tied a cloth bra over the halter. But it had spaghetti
thin straps running down from her shoulders, so thin they looked as if
the weight of her tits might snap them. And the cups of the cloth bra
were tiny, just enough to corral and contain her nipples, which poked up
ardently underneath them, and threatening to pop free at any moment,
perhaps just from the young woman's breathing. In fact as Cindy's mom
spoke to her one of the cups did come askew, revealing the nipple
beneath, and the woman had to nervously replace it, all the while
attempting to remain calm in the face of her daughter's questions.
But that wasn't the end of the woman's attire, which seemed
designed not to cover her charms but to show them off. She wore a belt
around her waist, made of leather like the halter. It rode very low on
her hips, almost letting her pubic hair curl out the top of it. Panties
were not attached to it, however, but rather, hanging down in front,
like a flaccid male penis, was a thin strip of leather. It looked like
an Indian garment, being, however, so narrow that from a distance it
resembled a hanging prick. Sasha had shaved her pubic hair so that it
did not extend beyond the width of the hanging leather strip. When she
moved, however, the strip shivered and showed glimpses of her narrow
thatch beneath. Sexily, the strip was matched by another in back, which
Cindy could see between her mother's legs. The purpose of that strip,
Cindy soon learned, was to cover, just barely, the crack of her mother's
firm high bottom. As if to add to the wondrous effect of the leather
halter and bibs, Sasha had tanned herself in such a way that the
outlines of her bikini bra and panties could be seen. That is, her
flesh was white where the bikini parts would have covered her, had she
been wearing them, which of course she was not, for this party was much
too sexy for the ordinary sort of bikini Sasha wore when she lay in the
sun in their small backyard.
Cindy gasped, looking at her mother. As if to make up for the
lack of attire on her torso, the young woman had compensated by covering
her arms and legs. Long black leather gloves stretched up Sasha's arms
almost to her shoulders, where ribbons tied them off against her upper
arms. Besides the slender gloves, she wore long boots on her legs,
which rose to the tops of her thighs and, like the gloves, were secured
against the tops of her limbs with ribbons. A collar, thick and wide,
gripped Sasha's neck. Cindy did not know it but the collar was called a
`posture collar,' for it constrained the movements of her mother's neck,
insuring that she kept her eyes high, off the cocks of the men who would
be at the party. After the last affair, where Sasha had earned her
place by sucking all the men and women in the room, Dave was teasing her
by making her wear the collar. He had bought it for her the day before,
and given it to Sasha at work, along with the entire outfit, to wear
tonight. Cindy's clothes were, by contrast, a bit of a makeshift
affair, gathered together by her mother to make her look sexy without
being blatant. The girl's mother wasn't going to have her daughter
showing up in black leather, no matter how liberal she may be in
inviting her in the first place.
"Mom, you look so different!" Cindy cried, running her eyes up
and down her mother's frame. Even now, despite her avid interest, she
failed to notice that the gloves her mother were were adorned with rings
and laces, making them, with a quick knot or two, into bondage gloves.
And she didn't realize that the rings hanging off the ankles of her
mother's boots weren't merely for decoration. They were so her mother
could be tied, legs akimbo, and penetrated.
"It's that sort of party, dear," Cindy's mom answered. She
held something in her hand. Cindy looked, and saw it was a mask. Two,
in fact, she realized, as her mother handed her one, and lifted the
other one to her eyes. Cindy took the mask.
"What's this for?" Cindy asked. She noticed that, unlike her
mother's mask, which the woman was now placing over her face, her own
didn't have any holes for her eyes. Or, rather, it did, but there were
flaps over them, snapped down tight to make the mask, for the moment at
least, into a blindfold. Cindy's mom, her hands behind her head, tied
on her own mask and then said,
"Honey, I can't allow you to know where we're going. I haven't
told them I'm bringing you and if they decide you shouldn't be there,
and that you have to come home, I have to bring you home without you
knowing anything." Sasha's eyes seemed to plead for understanding.
"Oh. Alright," Cindy said.
"Finish dressing and then I'll put your mask on for you," Sasha
said.
Cindy did as she was told. With some help from her mother,
especially when it came time to fix the buckles to her stockings, she
got dressed. When she looked at herself in the mirror she thought she
looked a bit like a French tart, that she'd seen in a movie once, with a
too-short skirt that was in fact a blouse and long alluring stocking,
and high heels and no bra, which meant her tits quivered when she
breathed, making her low-cut blouse look like it was going to spill its
treasures. Sasha tied on her daughter's mask when the girl was finished
looking at herself. Then she took her downstairs, and no sooner had
they sat down together on the couch to wait for Dave than the doorbell
rang. Sasha got up and answered it. Cindy heard a gasp of delight, a
man's voice, when the door opened.
"Oh! I thought Dave was coming!" Cindy's mom said, a moment
later.
"You have been given to me for the evening," a strange man's
voice answered. "The punishment will be the same, of course." There
was a pause, an awkward silence. Then the man's voice said, with
interest and excitement, "Who's this?"
"This is my daughter," Cindy's mom answered.
"Oh! I didn't know you had a daughter," the stranger said.
With palpable embarrassment Cindy's mom said,
"She wants to come to the party."
"Of course. We have had young girls at some of our other
parties," the man answered, and Cindy felt a big shiver suddenly run
down her spine. It ended between her legs, making her feel funny again,
like she'd felt sucking the boy's cocks and rubbing herself with the
towel.
"She can come, then?" Cindy's mother asked, and the girl sensed
her mother was hoping for a `no' answer.
"Yes, of course," the man answered suavely. "I like her
dress." Cindy snapped her legs shut. They had fallen a little open, as
she sat listening to the man and her mother and resisting a temptation
to jam her fingers up between her thighs. Now, like a frightened
rabbit, she closed off what she realized must have been a view of her
cunt that the man saw, with her sitting in her too-short blouse which
wasn't a dress at all. "She is young," Cindy heard the man say.
"She's a virgin. Except for her mouth," Cindy's mom answered,
and Cindy blushed profusely.
"Ah. She has, then, quite literally tasted the fruits?" the
man asked.
"Yes," Cindy's mom said, a bit ruefully. "But nothing more."
"It is just as well," the man said.
"I'm sure it is," Cindy's mom said in a slightly accusing
voice. Then it must have been the man who blushed, for there was a
pause, and then the man said,
"I brought a wrap for you."
"I see."
"Put it around your shoulders and hold it closed with your
fist. There's even a hood," the man said. Cindy imagined him draping
her mother in the wrap and then putting the hood up for her. "Now you
won't get wet. It looks like rain," the man said. "Unless of course
you're already wet, which I can do nothing about."
"Let's hope your rudeness isn't limited to your mouth," Cindy's
mom answered.
"It isn't, I assure you," the man said, and he must have taken
Cindy's mom's hand and forced it against his groin then, for there was a
sharp intake of breath from her mother followed by a sigh that could
only be described as appreciative, and then the girl heard them kiss.
"We must go now, or we'll be late," the man said to Cindy's mom
after a moment. The mother sighed again and said,
"Let me get her." Cindy heard her mother approach and then a
warm feminine hand reached down and took hers. Cindy stood up. "Is she
dressed well enough to get into your car?" Cindy's mom asked the man.
"Of course," he answered. "No one will mind. She's only a
little girl."
Dressed as if for church, albeit, on close inspection, a
decidedly sexy church, Cindy slipped into the front seat of the man's
car, which was waiting downstairs, along with her mother. Mom was
conservatively attired, or so it seemed, in a long gown with a hood to
protect her from the light patter of rain that was coming down now, but
the daughter was in white shoes and stockings and in a dress that seemed
fetchingly short, one that she had perhaps outgrown a little, owing to
how high it hung on her. All this was noticed by a man in the building
next door who, owing to the beauty of the mother and daughter, had taken
up position at his window since noticing them two days earlier. He
waited inside the window, reading a book about the Civil War to pass the
time, and when the astonishingly beautiful pair came or went he was sure
to see it, sitting just inside his window, and he saw it now, and noted
with delight the pair's clothing, particularly the height of the little
girl's dress and how it showed off her childishly slender legs. But the
mother was intriguing too, for although dressed to protect herself from
the rain she looked rather like O in the story of O, a film the man was
an avid owner of, though of course being an utter nerd he had never had
the opportunity to participate in such things. Now, as the doors of the
car below closed and the rain increased, he wondered why the daughter
had not worn a raincoat like her mother. Was it because the girl, of
junior high age, was becoming rebellious? Yes, that must be it, the man
assured himself. Her mother must have been carrying her raincoat over
her arm and he had simply not seen it, staring as he was at the little
girl's legs.
The car sped off. Within it, Cindy found herself placed rather
tightly between the two lovers. She could feel the body heat of the man
beside her, and on her other side could hear the rustling of her
mother's cloak, and feel it brush her right arm and leg when her mother
shifted herself in the seat. The girl's mother seemed nervous, indeed,
from his breathing and sweat the man beside Cindy seemed nervous too.
It was as if the girl was poised between two lovers her own age, both of
them anxious with the promise of the evening and yet a little worried
too, the man, despite his proportions and his ability, that he might
prove inadequate to the bombshell beside him, to the two! bombshells
riding with him, and to the others who he was sure to encounter at the
party, the woman that she was doing the wrong thing, not only for her
daughter but for herself, for she knew, after two such parties now, that
she would be required to do things that were not only exciting and
sinful but painful.
It was a long ride. They got stuck in traffic along the San
Diego freeway and halfway along it Cindy announced that she had to pee.
Grumbling, the man told her to hold it. Cindy tried, clamping her legs
together, but when she put her fingers against herself, between her
tightly pressed thighs, she got that funny feeling again, and found, to
her surprise, which she announced in the car with childish alarm, that
she was already wet.
"Yes, dear," Sasha said, embarrassment showing in her voice.
"See? I'm already peeing!" Cindy exclaimed.
"No, you're not, dear," Sasha tried explaining.
"God, two wet babes in my car," the man said gleefully.
Somehow, perhaps because she was in a strange car being driven
by a man she had yet to see, Cindy managed to hold in her pee until they
arrived at their destination. It was a ten story apartment building in
San Clemente, and it was still raining lightly when they arrived. The
man let Cindy's mother out of the car and then Cindy followed, and her
mother held her close as the man went up to an intercom and gained them
admittance to the building's lobby. To her mother's relief, the lobby
was deserted. Cindy was hustled into an elevator and as the elevator
ascended Cindy wiggled and pressed her blouse-like `dress' between her
legs. Sasha's embarrassment was obvious when the elevator stopped on
the eighth floor, two floors short of the penthouse where the party was
being held. An elderly couple got in. Sasha managed to hide her
blindfolded daughter partway behind herself, so as not to unduly alarm
the couple.
"A party. A surprise party," Sasha said, when the elderly man
gazed with interest at Cindy's blindfold. That explained the blindfold,
but what of the way the girl was pressing her hands between her legs?
"She also has to go to the bathroom," Cindy's mom confessed.
"MOM!" Cindy cried, utterly mortified that in her blindfolded
state her mother should explain, to two strangers at that, the state of
her bladder.
"Shhh!" Sasha told her daughter nervously. The elderly couple
laughed and the elevator stopped at the ninth floor to let them off.
Could they hear the party upstairs, Sasha wondered? Did they know what
their fellow residents were up to just a floor above them? She hoped
not, for to have a minor at such a party would be something the police
might wish for the couple to report, and blame them for not reporting if
they failed to. Or perhaps they would think any ruckus they heard above
them was just, in fact, a children's party, though it would be a rather
late-running party, Sasha admitted guiltily to herself. She had a flash
of doubt about bringing her daughter but then the elevator was stopped
at the tenth floor, and the doors opened, and a woman in a long black
gown was smiling broadly and greeting them.
The man whose name Cindy still didn't know ushered her mother
and herself out of the elevator. He introduced himself to the woman in
the black gown and it was only then that Cindy did learn his name, which
was Brad. It was, in fact, the first time Sasha had heard the man's
name, and when she told the woman her own and Cindy's the man himself
learned the identities of the two young women he had just escorted.
"I'm Gwen," the woman who Cindy could not see said, and she
sounded beautiful. Cindy reached out and found the woman's gown. She
tugged it with her hand.
"My daughter has to go to the bathroom," Sasha said with some
embarrassment, Cindy blushing as she said it.
"Of course. Right this way," Gwen said. The girl felt someone
brush close to her and a hand came to her back. There was a small
push. She stepped forward as a result of it, nearly stumbling in her
white shoes.
"I hope it's alright she came. She's only 12," Sasha said.
"I'm sure you had your reasons. She's quite beautiful," the
woman named Gwen answered. Cindy felt someone take her hand. It was a
slender hand like her mother's but it grasped her with some hesitation
and she realized it must be Gwen's. She felt herself led, blindfolded,
and heard voices coming from beyond, as if from the other side of a
wall. She did not stumble again, though she felt awkward in her high
heels, which she wasn't at all used to yet. Then her blindfold was
removed and she found herself in a small room, panelled with
beige-colored wood. There were about two dozen lockers and most of them
had locks on them but several did not. Beyond the lockers was a single
toilet, and next to it a sink. The toilet had no walls around it, it
was a residential toilet, despite the presence of the lockers, as one
would find in a bathroom in a home. Anyone could see as Cindy peed,
provided they were in the room, and as Gwen pointed her to the toilet
she turned to look over her shoulder and saw the man named Brad and her
mother in the room with her, along with Gwen.
"Piss there," Gwen said. Cindy ran to the toilet. She had to
go too badly to argue about who might watch her. She lifted her short
blouse and plopped down. It was a very clean toilet, despite being the
sole item of its kind in the room and obviously something that might
have been used by others before her, the others, whoever they were, who
had put the things in the lockers. She peed, relief evident on her face
as her mother tried not to watch her, and as Gwen showed the same
respect, but as Brad glanced over at her, gazing again between her legs,
which she had to keep apart now, lest she piss on herself.
"Stop looking, Brad!" Cindy said, remembering the man's name
from the introductions. He blushed a little but in full view of Cindy,
Sasha put a hand on the man's crotch, very lightly, and gave an
appreciative smile.
"Is he full for the evening?" Gwen asked, ignoring Cindy and
her embarrassment on the toilet. The woman, who was a blonde like her
mother and herself, reached out and placed her hand atop Sasha's.
Cindy's mom smiled at the woman and let her own slide aside, after a
moment. Together the two women felt the man who had brought Cindy and
her mom to the party.
"Yes. He feels wonderful. You have made a good choice," Gwen
said to Sasha.
"I didn't choose him," Sasha said. Gwen's eyes lit up and she
said,
"Ah! You are the slave then, this evening?" Sasha nodded.
"I'm still pretty new to these sorts of things," Sasha said.
"She has a casual boyfriend," Brad explained. "He took her to
two parties and now he's asked me to take her to this third one."
"So you are her new master?" Gwen asked, still feeling the man,
but lightly, as she spoke to him.
"Her temporary master," Brad said. "Dave would never give up a
girl like this without a fight. It's to test her." Gwen smiled and
Sasha blushed.
"So far she seems to be doing very well," Gwen said. "You have
been a slave before?" Gwen asked Cindy's mom, as Cindy listened
ardently, still peeing on the toilet.
"A- A little," Sasha said. Cindy's pee stopped and she grabbed
toilet paper from a roll to wipe herself. Brad, despite his obvious
interest in the two women whose hands still rested on his crotch,
glanced again at Cindy. She stuck out her tongue at him.
"A slave must be tested in many ways," Gwen told Cindy's mom.
"Some of the ways are easy. But some are hard."
"Yes," Cindy's mom said, as Cindy dropped a wad of used toilet
paper in the commode beneath her and hopped up off the seat, her blouse
falling to hide again what Brad was trying to avoid placing his eyes
upon, but could barely resist. That wet part of her, that was wet not
with her pee and which wettened quickly again, despite the fact that
she'd just wiped herself there.
"I see you are wearing a posture collar and bondage gloves,"
Gwen said, taking in fully now the costume Cindy's mother was wearing,
right down to the purpose of the rings on her ankles. "I take it these
are not for show? You have some experience with the whip?" Gwen asked.
"A- A little," Sasha answered, embarrassed at the question and
doubly so now that she saw her daughter advancing toward them, listening
intently.
"Take off such covering as you have. Stow it in these
lockers," Gwen said to the couple. She took her hand off Brad's crotch
and pointed to a smaller dresser standing in one corner. "You'll find
locks in there and, if you need them, condoms and jelly. The keys to
the locks come with little bands that you can use to hang your key
around your wrist. And there's a little black leather pouch attached to
the band. Here, I'll show you," Gwen said. She walked over to the
dresser. She opened the top drawer. Cindy, peering close, saw several
locks. There were keys to go with them, each one attached to a small
elastic band that also bore a little pouch, which hung beside the key.
"Push the key into the pouch. Then you won't cut anyone with it when
things get going," Gwen said. She picked up a key and demonstrated how
it could be fitted inside the pouch. Sasha nodded, as did Cindy and
Brad. "I'll leave you three to undress," Gwen said. "I've got to tend
the elevator to make sure we don't have any unwanted visitors. San
Clemente is where Richard Nixon retired, after all. It's not quite as
liberal as L.A."
"Pity," Brad said.
"I'm sure we'll manage to have fun all the same," Gwen smiled.
"Yes," Brad grinned.
Gwen left, leaving Cindy anxiously curious.
"Take off your blouse," Cindy's mom told her, as Brad moved
behind her to help her out of her cloak.
"But mom! If I take off my dress they'll see my tits! And my
bush!" Cindy cried. There was alarm in her voice, and it increased to a
childishly high pitch as she spoke, for as she did she watched her
mother step out of her cloak. Beneath she wore only the black leather
halter, with the tiny cotton bra, and the Indian belt bib and gloves and
boots. And her collar, of course, which held her chin high, and her
blindfold, which kept her identity a secret, no matter what depredations
she might suffer lower down.
"Yes, dear, they will see your tits and your bush, and your
bottom too," Sasha added. She frowned, for had they not discussed what
sort of party this would be, and what would be required? She was
feeling exhilarated now, and the idea that her daughter would get cold
feet, much as she loved her, made her a little cross. Brad was
delightfully handsome, and his cock was bulging with a promise Sasha had
not expected. Moreover, Sasha had lately discovered that she was not
immune to the charms of women, and Gwen was lovely beyond belief. She
could only imagine what the other guests were like, and for her daughter
to insist on coming only to have to be taken home again would spoil
everything. For in a party such as this, one cannot, as Sasha had so
recently learned, arrive late. Fashionably late, yes. But once things
got underway the door had to be locked, for everyone must be on the same
wavelength. One could not admit clothed guests to a party where, say, a
woman was naked and having something rammed up her ass, while others
sucked cream from her tits. They were already close to the last to
arrive and to leave now would mean missing everything. Such a group
might gather again but, in the swirl of modern L.A., it might not.
Sasha, for all her beauty, might not again get an invitation to see
Gwen, especially if she showed up with a daughter who then promptly had
to go home. Besides guests with diseases, or ugly guests, or guests
that were two old, or guests who talked, there was one other class of
guest that was not invited to parties like this: guests with bad
judgement. Men who drank too much, and became garrulous, or, doubtless,
women who brought underage daughters who were clearly too young for such
affairs. "You must show what you have. It's that kind of thing," Sasha
explained to her daughter. Cindy thought a moment and then let out a
big sigh.
"Oh, awright," Cindy said, with, unbeknownst to her mother,
much the same sort of voice and sigh that she'd given just before
sucking the cocks of boys. She pulled up her blouse, doing it with a
kind of sudden eagerness now, as if she were about to go swimming.
"You may take off your shoes too, if you think you might fall
down in them," Sasha told her daughter.
"I won't fall down," Cindy said.
"She'll just fall," Brad said hopefully. Sasha frowned at the
man as he hung up her cloak for her. Then he promptly unzipped himself,
and to the eager delight of the two females he drew out, much to his own
relief, his sizeable ten inch cock.
"Wow! You're bigger than the boys I've sucked," Cindy said
with childish glee.
"Cindy!" Sasha cried. The girl blushed. Brad raised an
eyebrow.
"Sorry, mom," Cindy said. Brad walked to the toilet. He was
about to piss in it when, looking down into the bowl, he saw a yellow
tint to the water and a crumpled tissue floating there.
"Hey. You forgot to flush," Brad said to Cindy.
"Ooops!" Cindy said. Sasha walked over to the girl. She ran
her hands through the hair on her head and then reached down and gave
her daughter a smack on her bare behind.
"OW!" Cindy cried.
"Next time flush," Sasha said to her daughter.
"It's alright. She's just a little girl," Brad said, releasing
his pee to commingle with Cindy's in the bowl.
"I hope you remember that later tonight," Sasha said.
"Tell that to the other guys," Brad said. He was holding
himself, aiming into the bowl, and the thought of little Cindy standing
naked behind him made him want to rub himself, it was so exciting. She
was a virgin! He couldn't believe his good fortune in escorting not
only a lovely blonde but her daughter to this party. The girl was only
24, if she had been any older she surely would have never allowed her
daughter to attend something like this. But she was still a curious
young mare herself, and unable to stop her pesky little daughter from
prying into her affairs. It was delightful to think he might actually
get to fuck the girl-- if he didn't lose himself here and now in this
toilet! And Gwen, the hostess-- God what a hot babe! He had managed to
control himself as she felt him, along with Sasha, but it had taken more
effort than he let on. Just looking at her, he knew the woman could be
cruel as well as kind. What sort of decadent delights did she have
planned for the evening, he wondered? Again he felt the urge to rub
himself. He was a horny dog let into a party full of other horn dogs
like himself and luscious bitches in heat, including a little one who
still didn't understand her own feelings. It was like Eden, except with
black leather and the promise of punishment for his date!
When Brad had finished peeing he flushed the toilet, for both
himself and Cindy. As the girl's used tissue scooted down into the
plumbing he returned to the two females. They were waiting for him with
eager hands. They helped him undress, marvelling all the while at his
endowment. He himself gazed with appreciation at their charms, which
wiggled freely before him now, for Cindy was utterly naked, save for her
stockings and shoes, and Sasha, clad in black leather, had since removed
her only meaningful covering, the teensy cloth bra, which she had hung
up in the locker next to her cloak. When he was naked Sasha went over
to the dresser. Gwen had said nothing about it, but at another party
she had found interesting things in the bottom drawer. She opened it,
and there she spied a little leather thong. She pulled it out and to
her delight it had a hole in the front of it, obviously for a dildo or a
man's cock. She walked over to Brad.
"Here. I want you to put this on," Sasha said to Brad. The
man looked surprised. He examined the thong with a measure of anxiety.
Then he said,
"I can't wear this. There's no pouch for my balls."
"Just shove them to one side," Sasha said. "Go ahead. Put it
on. I'm in leather and you should know you can't be totally naked, not
this early in the party. It's gauche." Suddenly, the door opened.
Gwen stepped into the room.
"I don't think anyone else is coming," Gwen said. "Or if they
are, it's going to be too late for them. I've locked the door. I want
to get going." She saw that Cindy was naked, and smiled, then saw that
Sasha was delightfully covered or, rather, uncovered in leather, and
that Brad was even more deliciously wearing only his birthday suit.
"We're arguing over whether or not he should put on a thong,"
Cindy's mom said to Gwen. The woman smiled.
"I suppose he could come out covered in oil," Gwen said. She
walked up to the man from behind and wrapped her arms around him,
clasping his strong chest muscles with her pretty fingers. But her eyes
were lower, watching the bob of his heavy naked cock as it stood erectly
in the air.
"I hadn't really thought about what I would wear," Brad said.
"How many parties like this have you been to, Brad?" Gwen
asked. The man blushed.
"Uh, not that many," Brad said, after a moment.
"Is this your first bondage party?" Gwen asked Brad. The man,
who looked about 30, reddened more. Then he confessed, "Yes it is. I
met Dave last week and, well, he heard I was from Utah and so he said I
was the perfect--"
"And you were so suave when I met you!" Sasha exclaimed. Even
little Cindy looked surprised, standing before Brad in her altogether
with one foot crossed over the other, like a child contemplating jumping
in the deep section of a pool.
"I did my best," Brad said.
"Have you ever been whipped, Brad?" Gwen asked the man. His
face turned red.
"N- No," he said.
"Then you hardly know anything about whipping others, do you?"
Gwen asked him. Her hands slid slowly down his chest to his belly, then
past his navel to his groin, to the growth of his pubic hair. Of a
sudden she clasped his cock, right at the root, seemingly
half-controlling his erection now as it bobbled out beyond the grip of
her hands.
"I- I guess not," Brad said.
"There's only one way to learn," Gwen said. "I will teach
you." She looked at Cindy's mom. "You deserve a trained master, dear.
You will accompany Brad but I will handle the difficult parts of your
evening." Cindy blinked and looked from Sasha to her mother.
"Yes," Cindy's mom said meekly.
"Have you ever been whipped by a woman?" Gwen asked Cindy's
mom. The young blonde shook her head `no'. "Turn around. Let me see
your ass," Gwen said to Sasha. Obediently Sasha turned. "Open
yourself," Gwen said, and to Cindy's astonishment, perhaps forgetting
entirely that her daughter was there, Sasha reached back behind herself
and, pushing aside the rear bib of her outfit, pulled apart her ass
cheeks.
"You have taken cock there?" Gwen asked Sasha.
"Yes," Sasha answered meekly.
"Mom!" Cindy cried, breaking the erotic reverie of the moment.
At once Sasha let go of her hinds, blushed and turned. Gwen frowned at
the little girl.
"You obviously require training, as does your mother," Sasha
said. She looked at Cindy's mom. "As your mistress I require to be
called ma'am at all times. You live to serve me this evening. And
since I am a woman, and your daughter is proving a bit unruly, I shall
be her mistress too. This is your first test. While I undress, I want
you both to stand side by side, your backs to me, and bend over. Put
your hands on your bottoms and pull the cheeks apart. Don't be shy.
Show me your most intimate region, yes, more intimate than your pussies,
for does not a girl who has surrendered her pussy still hold back on
letting her ass be penetrated? Do it now! Don't make me wait or I'll
eject you both from the party. It's raining outside now, quite hard.
It would be a fit punishment to put you two wet noodles out into the
rain where you belong."
"Oh, God! I can't do that!" Sasha cried.
"This evening is all about doing what you think you cannot.
You should have known that before coming," Gwen answered. Brad, who
seemed delighted at the turn of affairs, if only because it was allowing
him to escape the tight-looking thong, went behind Gwen. He began
unzipping her tight black leather dress, and she did not stop him.
Sasha might have sacrificed her interest in the party at that
moment, but it was her daughter who saved her. With a mixture of
curiosity and fear, lest she should spoil her mother's evening, she
turned her back to Gwen. Then she bent over, and with only the humor
that a junior high student could muster, pulling the halves of her high
sweet bottom apart, she said, quite loudly,
"FART!" Or, rather, she made the sound, with a loud gleeful
buzz of her lips.
Brad, who was unzipping Gwen, had to stop and laugh. Gwen
frowned. Sasha, with embarrassment, laughed, as did her daughter.
"Don't fart at me, little girl," Gwen said. Sasha paled
fearfully. Cindy felt herself shiver, with both fright and a kind of
eerie delight.
"Do as your daughter is doing," Gwen ordered Sasha.
"I--" Sasha began, putting her hand to her mouth and looking
anxiously at her daughter, who remained bent over, eager to make another
farting noise.
"Do it for Dave," Brad said, having recovered himself from
laughing. "He will want a good report of you." And so Sasha did, with
much embarrassment. She turned her back again to Gwen and opened her
behind for her, and this time she bent forward, and remained standing
that way, as Gwen, helped by Brad, got out of her gown. Then the door
to the little room opened and someone came in.
"Oh! I didn't know you were undressing," a woman said.
"Please, come in," Gwen answered. "Two of my newest guests are
just getting a little training."
"Oh! Are they to be whipped?" the woman asked.
"Not yet, though the older one certainly deserves it," Gwen
said. "You may stand," she told Cindy and her mother. With a great
deal of relief, matched only by their embarrassment, the two young women
stood up and let go of themselves. They turned, and found that Gwen had
stripped down to a black leather outfit. A halter hugged her torso,
circling her breasts and setting them off from her white porcelain
frame. Like Sasha's, it did nothing to lift her sizeable gourds, which
wasn't required anyway, since she was young and her tits were high and
firm. Neither did the halter conceal her tits, which meant that her
nipples were left to whatever depredations the guests might care to give
them. Panties hugged her waist, but upon closer inspection they did not
cover her pussy lips but rather caused them to extrude, squeezing them
out between a slit that was left in the leather. Upon closer
inspection, in fact, Sasha realized that her hostess' panties, although
black like her halter, were in fact rubber, gripping her cunt lips more
tightly and offering them even more fully. Below this Gwen wore boots,
high leather ones that flared a bit at the tops of her thighs, like
boots a cowboy might use to ride a horse, except much taller. As a
result of the flare in the boots Gwen was forced to hold her legs a
little apart, which meant that the view of her cunt between her legs was
all the more easy. Gwen turned, smiling as she showed herself to Sasha
and her daughter. Her own ass was as perfect as her guests', high and
round and split delectable between, a fact the panties she wore did not
hide, for they were thong panties and ran up inbetween her bottom crack
rather than covering it. As if in a kind of riposte, Gwen bent forward
and reached back behind herself. She opened her ass to her guests,
baring the fact of her thong that split her. She looked over her
shoulder at Sasha, saying nothing, letting her eyes convey her erotic
desire for Cindy's mother. Then she stood erect, her slender back
straight and perfect.
"What was that all about?" Brad asked.
"You need to get into your thong," Gwen told the man.
"But it doesn't have a pouch for my balls," Brad said,
repeating the protest he'd given earlier to Sasha as the young mother,
excited, bent and picked up the seemingly discarded thong off one of the
low wooden benches that was in the room.
"Just shove your balls to one side," Gwen told Brad. Sasha
stepped forward and made the man take the thong. He looked at it,
holding the tiny bit of black material in his hand.
"It looks uncomfortable," Brad said.
"So's a whip," Gwen answered.
Grudgingly, Brad stepped into the leg holes of the thong. He
pulled the garment up, finding it difficult to get around his hips,
despite their sexy slenderness. Then Gwen reached forward and took hold
of his substantial prick. He almost came in her hands as she ruthlessly
bent his erection until she managed to get the thing to go through the
hole at the front of Brad's thong. He looked at himself sticking out
the front of the tiny panties he was wearing. His balls never had a
chance; the base of the thong just naturally hugged up next to his
crotch on the right side, letting them hang free.
"What good is this?" Brad asked.
"It's sexy," Gwen smiled.
"Yes!" Cindy agreed, for the thing set off Brad's cock and made
the red of its flesh all the more evident, even moreso with the sight of
his swimsuit line against his skin, where his tan line gave way to the
paleness of his groin.
"You look like you've got a red flag pole," Sasha giggled. She
was glad she had found the panties for him.
All this time, intermittently, the young woman who had let
herself into the room was undressing. Although she was late someone at
the party had dared to go to the door and let her in, and there was a
man with her, and he undressed as well, alongside her, the two of them
nearly naked now. Gwen turned to them.
"I'm glad you could make it," Gwen said. "My name is Gwen, and
I'll be your hostess for this evening. I see you're already almost out
of your clothes. Good. Just hang them in a locker. There are keys in
the dresser over there. And oh-- it's a masked ball," she said.
"You'll both need masks, which are in the dresser's middle drawer.
We'll need them too," Gwen said. She saw that Sasha was already masked,
and said, "Nice. I see you're prepared. I guess just Cindy and Brad
and I will need masks."
"Cindy's blindfold has eye flaps that can be unsnapped," Sasha
said. She got the girl's blindfold and unsnapped the coverings over the
eye holes. Then, bending down, she told Cindy to hold still and she put
the mask on her daughter.
"You two have come quite well prepared after all," Gwen said.
She got a mask for herself out of the dresser. Brad tied it on. Then
she got one for Brad and tied it on him, all the while saying to the new
couple, "There's condoms and jelly in here if you need them. I'll show
you how to put the keys into the little pouches that come with them."
The woman who was new, a redhead who was about 23, came over to
the dresser. She was naked now, and she opened a drawer and saw the
condoms and jelly. The condoms were all different colors, like a little
rainbow stowed in the drawer. The jelly was KY.
"Oh, Good. This is so exciting! I don't think we can wait,"
the redhead said of herself and her lover. Smiling, she pulled out a
tube of KY. She unscrewed the lid and set it atop the dresser, then
proceeded to squirt her lover's sizeable cock with it.
"Feel free," Gwen said, seeing what they intended. "This room
is for emergencies as well as undressing, or you can use any of my three
bedrooms."
Despite the beauty of the three blondes in the room, the man
with the redhead was consumed with her, and with what she was doing to
his penis. He watched her grease him up and then, trembling, his cock
stiff and still poised in her hands, or, rather, sticking through them
and prodding her gently against her flat belly, he said,
"How do you want it?"
"Behind this time," the redhead gasped.
"Oooh!" Gwen said. "We should have you sit on our cake later,
to ice it." The redhead turned and knelt on the bench. It was made of
wood, but she seemed not to mind, arching her bottom up so her
boyfriend, straddling the bench behind her, could get at it. He aimed
not for her cunt but instead between the cheeks of her bottom, and Sasha
shot Cindy a meaningful look as the redhead, letting out a gasp, felt
her lover push himself inbetween her ass cheeks. "May we stay and
watch?" Gwen asked.
"Only if you don't make me ice your cake with what he puts into
me," the redhead said, laughing slightly, a nervousness in her voice.
Suddenly she let out a sharp "AHH!" and the man grunted and was in her,
shoving himself through her rosette, driving now not just inbetween her
cheeks but into her bottom proper. Cindy's hands flew to her own behind
as she watched. It was so awful, and yet so wonderful! She couldn't
take her eyes off the sight of the man's big cock driving in, making the
redhead shout.
"You will most certainly ice my cake with what he puts into
you," Gwen said. "Especially if he forced you to take an enema before
coming here, so you'd be nice and clean for what he's now offering you."
"I did," the lover said, keeping his eyes on the behind of the
woman he was now inside but clearly loving being able to talk to Gwen
while he did it.
"Cindy, I want you to practise your counting," Gwen said,
turning to Sasha's daughter. "Count aloud the strokes this young man
gives his lover."
"Yes, ma'am," Cindy said, remembering to call Gwen by the
honorific she had chosen for the evening. The woman smiled at Cindy and
said,
"You learn quickly, my dear. You shall do well."
Cindy's high childish voice counted out the strokes the man
gave his lover, while Brad, watching, could barely keep his own hands
from joining in the fun, rubbing his dong until he spurted along with
the man. Cindy hit nineteen when the man suddenly lost himself and
filled his lover's guts with his sperm. The redhead cried aloud,
shoving her ass back, despite the obvious pain of the penetration, to
take all he had to offer. She blushed as she did so, not only from
doing it, or being seen doing it, but from the knowledge that Gwen would
make her shit it all back out again, on top of a cake, at that! When
the two lovers had finished Gwen, seeing the way Brad was sticking forth
so urgently, and the way little Cindy seemed to want to wiggle her
fingers between her legs, and the way her mother was ardently stroking
her thighs, said,
"We should go join the party now." And so they left, leaving
the redhead and her lover to whatever other delights they might wish to
share, or so it seemed, for at the last moment Gwen turned around and
said, "Report to the kitchen, my dear. I'm serious about needing my
cake iced."
"Yes, ma'am," the redhead answered.
"I don't think I want to eat any of your cake," Cindy said to
Gwen once they had left the room. The woman looked down at the little
girl and took her hand.
"Perhaps you would prefer to help ice it?" Gwen asked.
"Nooo," Cindy said. The conversation might have gone further
but just then they reached the main party room. Standing outside it was
a woman, who was quite beautiful, and dressed in a black leather halter
and long fishnet stockings, which had bands around their tops to keep
them from falling down or needing garters. She was passing out
feathers. They were big long ostrich feathers and Gwen had previously
tasked her with this job. She handed one to Brad, then one to Sasha,
then Cindy and Gwen. When the foursome entered the party room Cindy
quickly found a use for her feather, or rather it was demonstrated to
her, for someone, passing close, brushed her ass with it.
"Ooooh!" Cindy cried. No sooner had she let out a shout than
someone did the same to Brad, and he croaked and nearly shot off on the
person. It was a woman, and, like every other female in the room, she
was masked and wearing a halter which did nothing to hide her breasts.
At the same time she wore boots but not panties, and so Brad, seeing her
vulnerability, immediately retaliated, tickling her between her legs and
making her laugh, and wetting the tip of his feather.
Sasha's bib was no protection for her pussy, as she quickly
found out. A man approached her and began an innocuous conversation
with her. She found him impressive, most especially his cock, which
rivalled Brad's in size and which stuck out of his groin with a black
leather ring around the middle of it, his only piece of clothing. As he
spoke to her, complimenting her halter, he insinuated his own feather,
for everyone had one, under her front bib. Sasha felt the tip suddenly
touch her and she gasped. She nearly dropped her own feather before
realizing that she could do the same: she tickled the man with her
feather as he continued to make her gasp with his.
Except for the introduction to the game, which could come as a
bit of a shock, there was no urgency to the sport. People conversed,
and drank wine, and slyly stimulated each other with their feathers,
bringing forth small giggles and gasps amidst the hubbub of
conversation. Cindy had to be constrained from dashing about the room
tickling up all the men's cocks, once she realized the fun of the sport,
but other than that all was quiet bliss, and delicate aggravation, and
even little Cindy, settling down, contented herself with the slow
arousal of the cock of a handsome man who took a liking to her. His
name was Steven. He had dark hair and was tall and had a goatee to
compliment his pubic hair, which Cindy liked very much. He was at least
30 but Cindy didn't mind, for all seemed to be poised on the brink of
transgression anyway, and his age only piqued her ardor and curiosity.
"You have a fine bottom," the man said, after a while.
"Is that a compliment?" Cindy asked.
"It's meant to be," Steven answered.
"You have a cute ass too," Cindy answered.
"Turn around. Let me see you more completely," the man said.
"Don't tickle me," Cindy said, and turned, holding her feather,
which accidentally bumped the prick of another man who had been passing
behind her. "Oh! Sowwy," Cindy said, abashed, as she felt Steven's
eyes dart down to her behind.
"You can do more than tickle it with a feather if you want to,"
the man told Cindy, of his cock. It was hard and there was a drop of
precum at its tip. Cindy looked at it and licked her lips. The man
studying her behind looked over her shoulder at her new acquaintance.
"Perhaps we should repair to a bedroom," the man said to
Cindy's new friend, and the other man nodded.
"But her mother is here," the man said.
"We'll ask her, then," Steven replied. He took Cindy's hand.
He did not ask, he simply grabbed it, and Cindy was impressed, if
momentarily frightened. The next thing she knew the other man had taken
her other hand, prying her feather loose and letting it fall to the
floor.
"Hey! My feather!" Cindy cried, looking back over her
shoulder.
"We'll get it later," her new acquaintance, whom she had licked
her lips over, replied. Together the two men found Sasha and presented
themselves to her. Cindy's newest acquaintance proved to have the name
of Jeffrey, which she learned as he introduced himself to her mom.
"We would like to repair to a bedroom with your daughter,"
Steven said, all politeness in his demeanor, despite the way his cock
was sticking out at Cindy's mom.
"Oh?" Sasha replied. She had the cock of a man whose name she
didn't know in her hand at just that moment, and was fingering his
length as she spoke to him. He looked at little Cindy, and Sasha felt
her conversationalist's cock quiver in her palm. "My daughter is a
virgin," Sasha said to Steven and Jeffrey.
"We will be gentle," Steven answered.
"Can I, mom?" Cindy asked, clearly untutored in what she was
asking about, as if she were asking to go to the movies.
"Alright, if you wish dear," Sasha answered. She knew it was
the wrong answer to give but the cock she was holding in her hand was
driving her crazy. It was wonderfully thick and big. It would be
painful to take it, but she didn't care. She was too excited to care
about anything any more, here in this room with its leather clad
beautiful people, all of them armed with feathers and not hesitant about
attacking each other's most private places with them. "Go ahead," Sasha
replied. The two men looked responsible enough, for a party like this
anyway. With her daughter out of the way Sasha could have some real
fun, perhaps join this man she was holding in a bedroom of her own.
Steven gave a slight bow.
"Thank you, ma'am," Steven said, and put his hand to his
forehead, as if tipping his hat to Cindy's mom. Then he turned, and
Jeffrey, awkwardly copying him, turned a moment later, and they walked
off with Cindy between them.
30
---------------- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls! -----------------
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