Message-ID: <34464asstr$1010157009@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: From: Andrew Roller Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.net MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 04 Jan 2002 03:46:47 PST X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Fri, 04 Jan 2002 11:46:47 GMT Subject: {ASSM} night games, chapter two Date: Fri, 4 Jan 2002 10:10:09 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: IceAltar, RuiJorge - NND --------------------------------------------------------- Visit my FTP site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Roller/ <--click Click, or put the address into your browser. All my stories are there. --------------------------------------------------------------- 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! ----------------- -- More stories at: http://groups.google.com/ Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net Click on "Power Search" Change "standard" archive to "complete" archive. -- Other providers: IFLC: http://assm.asstr-mirror.org and http://asstr-mirror.org Anya's Lil' Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/ Silver: http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies The Backdrop Club: http://www.backdrop.com Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated -- Great art books by David Hamilton and Jock Sturges are at: http://www.amazon.com http://bn.com (photos of naked little girls) -- Naked little girls/politics: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Man/boy love: http://www.nambla.de Politics: http://www.lp.org http://www.isil.org http://www.fear.org http://www.fija.org http://www.aclu.org -- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller. All rights reserved. -- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/files/Authors/Roller/www666/index.html Or at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Roller/www/index.html (It is case sensitive, i.e. type Roller, not roller). -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+