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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                       SUMMER OF SIN

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                      Chapter Eighteen

         I smelled eggs and bacon.  I came downstairs.  I walked with sleepy 
feet toward the dining table.  I’d just had my bath.  I was feeling all tingly 
and refreshed.  My hair, pinned into pigtails, bobbed on my shoulders.  I 
was slender, graceful in my steps.  I wore black panties that had been laid 
out for me.  My black schoolgirl blouse fitted neatly over my upper body.  
Stockings sheathed my legs.  My shoes, polished early this morning by 
Sister Mary while I still lay sleeping, fitted snugly to my feet.  I did not 
have the spiked heels on that I’d worn yesterday.  I’d been permitted to 
wear, instead, the shoes I’d first visited the schoolroom downstairs in.  
They were modest, with a heel that was elevated enough to show off my 
bottom without making it difficult for me to walk.
         I approached the table with hungry eyes.  I was famished.  I went to 
‘my’ chair.  There were only four:  one at the table’s head, for Father 
Brannigan.  One at the table’s foot, for Father Virgil.  One across from 
where I sat, for Sister Lilith.  I pulled out my chair and was about to plop 
down when I saw it.  There were two bulbs sticking up through the hole in 
my seat.  The rod was still there!  It was higher than ever!  A gleam of oil 
was smeared over the two visible bulbs.  I stared.  Was I expected to sit 
down on that?
         “Ah, Chloe, I see you’re ready for breakfast.  Did you enjoy your 
bath?” Sister Lilith asked.  She appeared in the doorway.  I glanced back 
over my shoulder and saw her, then saw Father Brannigan and Father Virgil 
behind her.  They were grinning.  They came through the doorway into the 
room.  “And how is your little pussy this morning?” Sister Lilith asked 
me.  She approached me.  She knelt before me and, without even asking, 
pulled open the front of my panties.  She rubbed my slit with her fingers.  I 
looked down at her.  
         “No, please--” I sighed.
         “Oh, Chloe,” Lilith said.  “You don’t understand, do you?  We must 
make ourselves wet for the men whenever we can.  It’s our duty.  I must be 
wet, and you must be wet too.  Stand still while I make you all juicy so 
the men, eating their breakfast, can have the pleasure of knowing that 
they’ve got two randy females sharing their meal with them.”
         “Oh, I don’t want to be wet!  I just got all nice and fresh in the bath!” 
I whined.  Her fingers insinuated themselves up into my private.
         “Chloe, I want you to do something very naughty for me, so you know 
your status in life, and I know mine,” Sister Lilith told me.  She looked up 
at me, still smiling, and said:  “I want you to pee on my fingers.”
         “Oh!  I’ll get my stockings and my panties all wet!” I cried.  Lilith 
stroked my slit, making me swoon.
         “They won’t get that wet,” Lilith assured me.  “But they will help us 
be more submissive at breakfast, don’t you think?  I want you to pee into 
my hand.  Then you can put your hand in my panties, frig me, and feel me 
pee into your hand.  We’ll be two contrite females after that!”
         “Noooo,” I said.  I bit my lip.  I felt my tummy sink with fright 
between my encircling ribs.  How could I piss on her hand?  It would be 
so... nasty!  Lilith diddled my slit.  She looked at my furred mount and 
cooed.
         “Do it, Chloe,” Lilith urged.  Suddenly, against my will, or perhaps to 
give her I hoped she didn’t really want, I felt my bladder open.  A spritz of 
pee suddenly bathed her fingers.  “Yes!” Lilith howled.  She smiled up at 
me from between my arched legs.  “Piss, little one!” she said.  I peed 
freely then, letting my pee sprinkle her fingers.  She caught my liquid gold 
in her hand and then let it run down over her fingers.  It pooled in my 
pulled-open panties beneath her hand.  It stained the tops of my stockings.
         “What is going on here?!” Sister Mary, blustering into the room, 
asked in a shocked voice.  Father Brannigan turned to her.
         “The girls are peeing on the floor,” Father Brannigan said 
nonchalantly.
         “But I just waxed this floor!” Sister Mary blurted.
         “Then it’s in no danger, is it?” Father Brannigan said.
         “Oh!  I have never seen such a thing!” Sister Mary said.  She turned 
and left in a huff.  I heard her speaking in a loud voice to the coach man, 
who was fixing our breakfast in the kitchen.
         “Now do me,” Lilith said, when I’d peed all over her hand.  She stood 
up.  I was left with wet panties ringing the tops of my thighs.  My 
stockings had long streaks of wetness down their insides.  “Don’t pull up 
your panties,” Lilith told me.  “Leave them just as they are.”  I nodded.  
How strange this was!  I knelt down in front of her.  She had on a white 
gown, open in front.  She wore white patent-leather gloves on her hands.  
The back of each glove had been carefully laced and tied.  Despite the labor 
of their bindings, her gloves were fingerless.  A space was open, too, on 
her palm.  I wondered at those elaborate gloves, sheathing the back of each 
of her small hands, but leaving her fingers free, leaving her palms bare.  
How erotic they seemed!  How superfluous.  Lilith’s breasts were 
contained in a frilly bra.  She wore stockings, a slim garter.  Her panties 
were sheer, but interlaced with a floral design that concealed her skin 
wherever its pattern was.  
         I yanked open the front of Lilith’s panties.  I pulled the front down, 
pouch-like, and stuck my hand in and felt her muff.  It was soft, furred, 
dry.  I began diddling it with my fingers.  I felt a glistening wetness 
dampen the folds of her skin there, her private, and Lilith gave a short 
gasp.  I looked up excitedly.
         “Is this what you want?” I asked.
         “Yes!  Make me wet!” Lilith said in a hot, passionate voice.  Her eyes 
closed.  She threw her chin back.  “Tell me when you want me to pee,” she 
added.
         “Any time is fine with me,” I said frankly.
         “No,” Lilith said.  “Make me sexually wet first.  Then, when you feel 
I’m wet enough, command me to wet your hand.  The men will prefer that; 
you telling me I must do it.  I’ll try to hold back until you’re ready for me.  
Take as long as you like, my sweet.”
         I stuck my fingers sharply up into her.  She squealed, but said 
nothing in protest.  This was the woman who’d bonked me!  I savored the 
idea of getting a little revenge on her.  I dug hard into her flesh.
         “You’ll pee when I say then, and not before,” I told her, kneeling with 
my own pee-stained panties around my legs.
         “Yes.  As you insist... mistress!” Sister Lilith told me.  I gasped.
         “I’m not your mistress!” I said.  “I don’t want to be!”
         “You must be, for a little while,” Lilith said.  “You have my sex in 
your hand.  Command me.”
         “But I feel more like I’m helping you.  You’re a girl, just like me,” I 
said.
         “Mmmmm, but I like thinking like a boy,” Lilith confessed.  “How I 
wish I could give you more than just my slit!”
         “You’re strange,” I told her.  “But you have a nice pussy.”  I rubbed it.
         “Thanks... I guess,” Lilith answered.

         I sat at breakfast, my panties ringing my knees.  My chair was high.  
I could kick my feet and only just scrape the toes of my shoes on the floor.  
Sister Mary, bringing in our food, looked crossly at me when she saw me 
doing that.  I gave her a spoilt smile.  They were my shoes.  I could scrape 
the toes if I wished, couldn’t I?
         You would think Sister Mary would show more concern for me than 
for my shoes.  I sat submissively, but my bottom was quite uncomfortable.  
With the soft velvet of the chair pressing against my thighs, I looked like 
I had the perfect seat.  Yet thrust up through the hole in the center of the 
seat were now two shiny greased bulbs.  The second was larger than the 
first.  In sitting, I’d been made to take them both.  Father Brannigan and 
Father Virgil and Sister Lilith made sure I sat down properly on the chair, 
not seating themselves until I was put in my chair.  The hard rod with the 
steel adornments was wedged up within my fanny.  The highest ball urged 
open the depths of my rectum while the new, lower ball spread wide my 
anus.  I could barely move, thanks to the intrusion.  I ate with stiff grace, 
lifting my forkful of eggs to my mouth with perfect posture.  Lilith 
smiled, seeing how well-mannered I ate.
         “You are not slouching at the table this morning, Chloe,” Lilith said.
         “N-Nooooo,” I answered.  I put my eggs in my mouth and chewed.
         “I am glad to see it,” Lilith said.  “Afterward you shall go 
downstairs and have more lessons from the priests.”  She glanced with 
perfect decorum at Father Brannigan.  Yet I knew her panties, like mine, 
were wet with her pee, and the insides of her stockings too!  How neat we 
looked sitting there at the table.  But, despite the erectness of my 
posture, my own breasts bobbed nakedly with each of my forkfuls of food.  
And, under the table, stretched across my knees, my undies were wet.  
Lilith and I were a strange mixture of perfect poise and eroticism.  
         “What will Chloe be learning today,” Lilith asked Father Brannigan.
         He cleared his throat.  He looked fine and austere in his clerical 
robes.
         “Chloe will be learning about the colon,” Father Brannigan said.
         “It is used as much as several times a day, yet pupils in the public 
schools seem never to be taught about it,” Father Virgil chimed in.  “Today 
will will learn its dimensions, its functions.  And most of all, its 
capacity.”
         Lilith laughed.  I squirmed on my seat.  I was going to study my 
bottomhole?
         “How do you mean, Father, its capacities?” Lilith asked.  She cut 
herself another piece of egg.
         “How much total volume of fluid can it hold?” Father Brannigan said.  
“This is a matter we will investigate.”
         “Ahhh,” Lilith nodded.  She looked at me.  “You will know more about 
yourself after today, Chloe,” Lilith told me.
         “But I don’t need to know about my ass!” I answered.
         “At this school, you do, Chloe,” Father Brannigan told me.  He put 
jam on his toast as he talked.  “This is the sort of thing we study here, 
Chloe.  Nothing else.  Just you.”

         I stood at the blackboard downstairs in the schoolroom.  My panties 
were pulled up.  They were new panties, white.  They covered my behind, 
unlike the French panties I’d worn previously.  They felt soft and 
comforting against my ass.  My black school blouse was pinned up in back 
so that my new panties could be admired by the priests.  I wore fresh 
stockings.  The toes of my shoes had lost some of their luster where I’d 
scraped them this morning, sitting at breakfast.  Father Brannigan 
fingered a long whippy cane.  He stood behind me, watching me write on 
the blackboard.  He’d already informed me that I’d be tasting the cane for 
scraping my shoes.
         I trembled as I wrote on the board.  The thought of the cane would 
have been enough to frighten anyone, but I had a worse problem.  After 
breakfast, they’d made me kneel on the floor.  They’d cleansed my 
bottomhole with an infusion of fluid.  Then, when I was as clean as could 
be in my fanny, they filled me up.  With Hershey’s chocolate syrup!
         Standing now at the blackboard, I was forced to draw a picture of my 
rectum.  They made me use brown chalk to fill in the rectum after I’d 
drawn it.  I gripped a box of colored chalk in my right hand.  In my left I 
held the chalk I was coloring on the blackboard with.  Yet the tightness of 
my fingers was no match for that of my bottom!  My soft cheeks huddled 
hard together, inside my panties, trying desperately to hold in the syrup.  
Imagine!  I was doing my best not to poop syrup into my panties, yet both 
priests, and Lilith too, were eagerly awaiting my release.
         “I should like to have a tasty snack,” Lilith, sitting on Father 
Brannigan’s big desk, announced.  “Perhaps some pudding, Father?”
         “Yes,” Father Brannigan said.
         “It should be warm pudding, though,” Father Virgil said.  “And 
chocolate.”
         Father Brannigan tapped my behind with his cane.  I shrieked.  I 
dropped my chalk.  I bent to pick it up.  “Ooooh!” I said, stopping halfway.  
If I bent over, my bottomcheeks would surely release my syrupy poop into 
my panties!
         “Use the orange chalk, Chloe,” Father Virgil suggested.  He was ever 
solicitous of me, even when I was being put through the severest of trials.
         “Thank you, Father,” I said.  I stood erect again and drew the orange 
chalk from the box I held in my right hand.
         “Orange?” Father Virgil said.  “Shit isn’t orange.  Nor chocolate 
syrup.”
         “She is only 13,” Father Virgil answered.
         “Ohhhhh--!” I announced suddenly.  In bending I must have done 
something to myself, for I suddenly could no longer hold the syrup inside 
me!  I wiggled my tush.  I squeezed my cheeks tight.  No use!  What was in 
me was absolutely coming down-- out!  “Yikes!” I shouted.
         I felt a wet liquid turd poop itself suddenly into my panties.  The 
whiteness of my undies was sullied with brown, syrupy goop.  Lilith 
jumped down from Father Brannigan’s desk.  Gently she lifted open the 
back of my panties.  More syrup discharged itself from my butthole, 
accumulating in a drippy wet pile in the back of my panties.  
         “Gentlemen, our pudding is served,” Lilith said.  To my utter shock, I 
felt her neat, perfect face descend to the level of my panties.  Her hair, 
piled up with distinguished grace atop her head, brushed my lower back as 
she bent down behind me.  She inserted her tongue into the pudding that 
was oozing fresh from my butthole.  She licked.  She swallowed.
         “Mmmm,” Sister Lilith said.  “Warm chocolate syrup, heated by her 
behind.
         “Let me have some!” both priests shouted.  I screamed, tried to pull 
away, but they were upon me at once.  
         Afterward, my bottom licked clean, I received several licks of the 
cane.  It imprinted itself on my bare bottom.  I was put to bed, upstairs, 
with a well-cleaned hole and an ass showing the marks of a discipline.

         In the end, one becomes submissive.  Perhaps it is the randy 
stiffness of the males that finally brings a girl to full submission.  
Always, no matter how much they discharge, the men seem ready for more, 
after just a few hours.  Perhaps, sometimes, a night must pass for them to 
recover, but in the morning they are ready for you again.  There is no 
resistance, in a place like I was staying.  There is teasing, yes, if the men 
permit it, but no resistance.  You are their plaything.  They are eager to 
play.
         It was with graceful submission, then, that I received the last act of 
their depravity.  Lilith was present, but she was to be the cause of my 
final denouement.  In this way did she seem like a boy to me, though she 
had no penis and her pussy was small and tight.
         We both wore fine stockings, Lilith and I.  Mine were white, for 
purity.  Hers were black.  We wore slim garters around our waists.  
Nothing else was needed, save perfect makeup and hair.
         I knelt on a the bed.  Lilith knelt over me.  She kissed me, her bosoms 
pressed hard to my bare back.  She assured me her bottomhole had been 
filled and rinsed several times by Sister Mary, and was quite immaculate.
         Father Brannigan knelt behind me.  He rubbed my pussy with his big 
hand to excite me.  I knew his cock was engorged, erect, bobbing 
somewhere just beyond my fanny.  I squeezed my eyes shut.  I didn’t want 
to look.
         As I knelt tensely under Sister Lilith, supporting her weight on my 
frail 13-year-old back, a most obscene thing was done to her.  Father 
Virgil, displaying an erection of his own, stuck an enema tube in her 
bottom.  He filled her with fluid.  When she screamed she could take no 
more, he stopped.  He made her wiggle a bit, to slosh around the fluid in 
her colon and clean her thoroughly.
         Not that it was needed, Sister Lilith assured me through clenched 
teeth.  Sister Mary had cleansed her repeatedly already.
         “But perhaps it will impart to the fluid an extra warmth,” Father 
Virgil said, standing behind her.
         “As you wish, Father,” Lilith gasped.
         The enema tube was left in Lilith’s bottomhole.  But now a most 
wicked thing was done.  Its other end, disconnected from the enema bag, 
was greased at its tip by both priests.  Then they wrenched my bottom 
wide.  I shrieked.  They ignored my cry.  With a quick poke, they deftly 
inserted the greased tip into my anus.
         At once I began to feel an inflow of fluid.  It ran out of Lilith’s 
bottom and down the tube into my own.  I cried out.  Lilith, through tight-
pressed teeth, told me to hush.  I was filled with the fluid from her ass!
         When I was quite full, Father Brannigan clamped off the end of the 
tube.  With my ass bulgingly full of fluid from Lilith’s behind, he presented 
his penis to me.  He made me take it up my cunt.  Oh, how awfully wide I 
was stretched!  Lilith was, in a sense, fucking my ass with the fluid from 
her bottom.  Indeed, though clamped, tube still connected our holes.  At the 
same time Father Virgil, coming around to the other side of the bed, made 
me open my mouth.
         “Now you will be fucked by all three of us,” Father Virgil told me.  
His voice was frank.  He prised my cheeks open and put himself over my 
lolling, shocked tongue.  I was inundated a few minutes later.  Father 
Brannigan filled my cunt with his cum as Father Virgil discharged into my 
mouth.  Meanwhile, having already filled me with fluid from herself, 
Sister Lilith cooed, and kissed my face.
         I was filled, afterward, they boasted, with the holy spirit.  But I 
knew it was just them that had filled me.  God would have wanted to have 
nothing to do with an act as depraved as that! 

30

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