Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
No. 26 Tuesday June 20, 1995
alt.stories.erotic alt.sex.stories
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
Chambers of Love
Part Twenty-Five
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Fourteen
"No problem, ma'am," I said. "You've got the best plant waterer
you'll ever see sitting right here. Anytime you need them watered
while Julie and I are staying here, you just assign that chore to me."
"Well, I'll put your name by it, then," she said. "Now I must tell
you that most of my plants are of a very exotic genus from a remote
part of the globe."
"I'll be very careful, ma'am," I assured her.
"They require special attention."
I nodded.
"Really, though, the person who drew up this list for me should
have written the chore a mite more specifically. It should read 'Make
water on the plants.' Tsk! Tsk! You see, my plants require not water
but fresh urine. It must be utterly 'clean,' hence it cannot be urine from
a pitcher, however fresh. It must stream straight from the urethra
onto their lowest stems, where the plant rises from the soil." I was
shrinking down into my chair at this point, hoping to somehow melt.
Julie clapped a hand to her mouth, barely suppressing a laugh. Jane
looked up and saw her boobies shaking vigorously. Jane raised an
eyebrow and looked back down at her list.
"How-" I piped up. "How can I possibly water your plants like
that? I'm-I'm a girl!"
"Yes, a boy could do it quite easily, couldn't he? Too bad none are
about. The plants desperately need the water. They simply must be
watered today. I guess you'll have to arch your hips out like a boy
would and try to aim somehow. I'll leave that up to you. You're the
expert." I huddled my shoulders and hunched in my chair. "Julie will
accompany you to see that the job is done correctly.
"Oh, yes! I have hardwood floors throughout this house and none
of my maids were respecting that fact so I was forced to make a
special rule. For every significant bit of water you spill on the floor,
which in this case is your pee, you must receive discipline. Since the
maids may see you they will think it only fair that I apply this rule to
you as well as them.
"The Ladies' Horticultural Society will be accompanying you also.
Four ladies, in their 60's and 70's, very distinguished, very upper crust.
Visiting from England.
"Let's see. Oh, and please do be careful. Many of the plants have
thorns. I wouldn't want any of them to be injured."
"I-I don't have to go," I piped up.
"Oh?" Jane asked. "Well, fear not, we have a substitute method.
Dilutes the nourishment the plants receive to some extent, but if it
can't be helped it just can't be helped, can it?"
"No, it certainly can't," I agreed.
"Please, come over to the bed," Jane asked me. I got up and padded
over as she drew down the covers. "Would you get in, please?" I did,
relished the feel of the crisp, cool sheets against me. She told me to
lift my hips. Lying on my back, I raised my bottom. She slipped a
downy pillow underneath it, draped with a cloth. She told me to spread
my legs. Smoothly I separated them into a neat vee. Then she called
for the plant watering equipment to be brought.
I was still rather hopeful as I lay there, thinking I'd gotten a bit
of the upper hand already and would soon find some further way to
unsettle her plans. Modestly I brushed my golden locks over my titties
when she was looking away and then I covered my pussy with my palm.
Now I was almost as dressed as when I wore my bikini. Things were
improving.
Just in time, too! A gorgeous hunk suddenly entered the room,
trailing a rattling I.V. pole. He brought it over to the bed.
"Look! There's someone who can water your plants for you, Jane!"
I cried, forgetting to call her mistress. The hunk smiled down at me.
"I'm a dialysis patient," he said. "I haven't made a drop of urine in
two years."
"Oh." I said softly.
Jane gently took my arms and placed them above my head. I was
watching the hunk to see if he noticed my boobs, which lifted and
spread as Jane did this. Without warning she suddenly cuffed me to the
headboard of the bed. I purred. The hunk looked at me and I smiled at
him. I bounced my bottom on the pillow in a little invitation.
"Are you here to put something in me?" I asked coquettishly.
"Yes I am, how'd you guess? My name's Mike, by the way."
"Pleased to meet you Mike," I said demurely. "I'm Kimmy."
A young woman strolled in then, wearing a nurse's hat, white
garter belt, and white fishnet stockings with white pumps. "Oh, good!
You haven't started without me," she said. "I've been running late." She
glanced at a white watch on her wrist. I lay admiring her beauty; full,
generous breasts, unpierced. A flat tummy and smooth, slim well-
tanned thighs. But I wondered at her presence. Elle only showed up in
the dungeon.
The nurse walked up to my bedside and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm
Lynn Cartwright, R.N." she said brightly, then realized I was restrained.
"Oh! Special precautions, of course! Just call me Lynnie." She turned
to the nightstand and drew forth two white cords. She passed these to
Mike who reached to grasp one of my ankles. Playfully I shifted my foot
around, eluding him, but he caught it after a moment. He tied it off to
the brass-poled baseboard. Then my other ankle. Well, if he liked his
sex kinky so be it. He was so gorgeous.
I protested though when Lynn eased a gag into my mouth. I
wanted to be able to kiss my new boyfriend. She adjusted the gag,
silencing my objections. Lynn fetched cream then, from the nightstand.
This meant Mike was large. I shivered. Curiously, though, she only
applied the cream to my pee-hole. Then Mike took the tube and smeared
the stuff on the end of his I.V. line.
"Ready?" Lynn asked me with a smile. I nodded, thinking now Mike
would undress. Instead he placed his hand on my pubis and pushed the
I.V. tubing up my pee hole! I gasped. I wanted to scream, couldn't find
my voice. Up, up, it went, feeling gritty and uncomfortable. I squirmed
in my bonds, no use! Relentlessly he put it up me until finally I gasped
as it entered my bladder.
"This will help you go," Jane said to me, standing at my bedside.
"Again and again. Every time you pee out all your urine Mike will bring
you back here and we'll fill your bladder up with more fluid." I cast my
eyes wildly about, from face to face. They were all gathered at my
bedside. I looked to Julie, but she only giggled at the predicament I'd
gotten myself into. Normally, being the more submissive between us,
she would have let herself be assigned the first chore.
"Mike will pull the tubing in a minute," Lynn told me, placing her
palms on my tummy. "He'll go slow, and I want you to take deep breaths
to help him. Some pee will come out with the tubing but the rest
should stay inside your bladder. You should feel quite full, but squeeze
down your sphincter muscles and hold it just like when you were a
little girl on a long car trip. Then we'll escort you to your first plant!"
she concluded brightly.
"And remember," Jane added. "If you pee all over my bed there
will be an extra harsh punishment for you. Not to mention that we'll
have to just stick the tube right back up you and fill you again. I think
you'll agree that 19 plants means you'll be getting your fill of visits to
this bed as it is!"
The tube was withdrawn and, straining, I managed to keep in my
pee. They congratulated me and undid my bonds, my gags, helped me
squirming to my feet.
"Please," I gasped to Jane. "Before I go any further with this.
What is the second chore, the one Julie must perform?"
"Thank you, Kimmy. I should remind her. It is 'Supervise the plant
watering.' Take a pad from my desk, Julie, and a pencil, so you can
mark down any splashes she makes on my valuable hardwood floors." I
gasped. Julie broke into peals of laughter.
***
My first plant stood before me. 'Dessicatitus Irritatus,' the sign
read. In other words, a bramble bush. I approached it cautiously. When
I was as near as I could get I thrust my hips out as far as possible and
put a hand to my cunt. With two fingers I splayed myself and let forth
my nourishing pee. Down my leg it ran and onto the floor. Julie duly
noted my transgression on her pad.
"Juliee!" I cried.
"She certainly doesn't know how to relieve herself like a lady,
does she?" a member of the Ladies' Horticultural Old Lesbian Farts
Society asked aloud.
"Indeed, it's amazing what they omit teaching the children in
school these days."
"You must sit, darling. Sit in the pot if you must, but sit. Then
you will do it," a woman of the society said.
I turned about, approached the plant bottom-first.
"Owwch!" I cried.
"That's 'Dessicatitus Irritatus' for you, too many thorns," a lady
said.
"Yes, I used to get poked in my thumb, though I never knew
someone to try to seat herself on one."
"Mabel's always giving cockeyed advice, particularly to innocent
young girls."
I stood exasperated, rubbing my bottom in front of them, totally
naked and feeling bedraggled.
"Skip this one, dear," a member of the horticultural society
offered. "We'll come back to it last."
***
A second plant soon presented its prickly self to my view.
"Desertatus Irritatus." A cactus. This one seemed easier. Holding my
pussy and walking awkwardly with my thighs pressed together, I
circled it, looking for an opening. I had to pee very badly now. I'd had a
full bladder when I left Jane's bedroom. Since then my own kidneys had
made a further contribution. Finally I found what I hoped would be a
perch on the pot, between two fat scratchy limbs. Cautiously I backed
up to the pot and delicately perched my bottom on the rim. It was a big
plant, and I scooted inward until my pussy was over the soil. The
thorns on the nearest cacti branches caught at strands of my hair but
otherwise I was sitting there unscathed. The soil was almost at the
rim and so I sat comfortably, albeit with my bottom in the dirt. As my
handlers watched I put two fingers to my puss, spread myself, and let
loose an urgent stream of pee. A lady from the horticultural society
cleared her throat.
"Young lady, cacti don't require much water," she said as I
joyously loosed the contents of my bladder. Alas, once started I could
not stop the stream, there was so much pressure pent up behind it. The
pot, its soil piled high, quickly flooded and overflowed, my urine
streaming down its round sides onto the hardwood floor.
I put my face in my hands in despair. I was utterly defeated.
Finally I got up. Mike led me by the arm back to the bedroom for a re-
fill.
"Why Kimmy, you look like you've been out farming," Jane
remarked, looking up from her desk. My hands and cheeks were dirty
and my bottom was caked with wet dirt. Dried streams of dirt ran
down the backs of my thighs.
"I managed to water your cactus," I said. "With luck it will die
from being drowned."
"Hmm," Jane said. "I should thrash you, but some businessmen
just arrived for a meeting in one of the rooms I rent out for such
purposes. I asked if they'd like some refreshments served and they said
yes, and did I have a country girl who could bring them in? That's one
of the perks of holding business meetings here, you see. A female
actually makes and brings you coffee. Plus a few other treats. Would
you be so kind to serve them for me? No need to wash up. Just go down
and serve them as you are. I don't have any real country girls, but you,
being from America and looking the part, just might satisfy them.
Perhaps later they'll agree to do some watering for me."
I was off in a flash. I knew nothing could be worse or more
humiliating than those god-awful plants and those horticultural
lesbians. Mike and Julie followed me to make sure I performed my new
chore properly. In the kitchen I was given a silver tray with drinks on
it, plus some crackers and cheeses.
"Keep it balanced," the chef said. "And remember poise, be poised
and ladylike at all times." He spoke in a thick Italian accent. "And for
god's sake don't drop the tray!"
Clad only in heels I went tottering into the room where the
businessmen were meeting. They greeted my arrival with broad smiles.
I served the man at the head of the table first, bending forward, one of
my breasts brushing his shoulders. I kept my legs clipped together in
hopes of avoiding any hanky-panky.
"Young lady, you've got mud on your bottom!" the gentleman
exclaimed.
"All in a day's work, sir," I replied.
"See here, let me help you," he said. He turned me as I still held
the tray so that my hiney was facing him. Then he lifted the drink I'd
just served him and poured it over my asscheeks.
I gasped as the alcohol stung my bottom. The man in front of me
took a drink from my tray and passed it behind. My other cheek was
drenched in turn. The chairman then wiped my bottom with his
handkerchief. "Not clean, perhaps, but more presentable," he remarked.
He gave me a pinch on my seat and ordered me to serve the other men. I
yelped and offered the man in front of me a second drink. He accepted, I
turned and asked the chairman if he wished another, for himself. He
accepted also.
I went down the line of men along the side of the table. Each
seemed to want to take a shot at rinsing my bottom. Some poured it
over one cheek, some the other. Then, when I was fairly sparkling back
there, they had me bend forward and poured it down my butt crack. By
the time I reached the last man I was being bent double, laying the tray
on the floor, and grasping my ankles as they opened my anus with their
fingers and poured in a douche of Jack Daniel's. It stung the insides of
my bowels like fire and I danced about afterward, loosing the liquid
enema onto the hardwood floor. The men laughed uproariously. Through
a peephole Julie duly noted my misbehavior, as did Mike.
***
"Kimmy, you have been exceptionally naughty today," Jane
reprimanded me afterward. "However, I am going to give you one last
chance to redeem yourself. A new friend of mine has requested a favor
of me. I would like your assistance in the matter."
"Yes, ma'am," I said hopefully. Perhaps it would get me out of her
house. It did.
Chapter Fifteen
I was taken via carriage. The trip was long. Three times they let
me out of the coach to go to the bathroom by the side of the road. I
crouched, hearing the clip-clop of nervous horses' hooves, knowing a
footman and the driver were standing nearby. I peed into a little bowl.
Graciously the footman retrieved it from me each time, afterward. He
said they were saving my urine.
When the coach finally stopped, the footman saying we were
there, I had no idea where I was. It was cold out, snowflakes touched
my skin. I shivered, stark naked save for a few "essentials," as Jane
called them. A black hood covered my head. Cold air wafted in through
small vents along its sides. A gag, patterned with tiny air holes,
stretched tight between my lips. Long black sheath-like gloves
stretched nearly all the way up my arms. They were fingerless. My
bosoms were bare. They juddered freely. The raw wind nipped at them.
Around my throat was tied a mink cape. It trailed down the curve of my
back, under the mane of my flowing golden hair, stopped thoughtfully
just before reaching my bare white ass. My golden muff collected the
occasional snowflake for a covering. Long boots, though, encased my
legs, from my toes almost to the tops of my thighs. My wrists were
handcuffed behind me. My ankles were hobbled by a short length of
chain strung between them.
The driver and footman led me through ankle-deep snow to a door.
It opened. Inside warmth, a promise of comfort. I was seated in a
chair next to a blazing hearth. The chair was velour and felt soft
against my chilled bottom.
"Welcome to Chateau Havenhurst," a Swedish woman's voice said
quietly to me. She surprised me. I had not known she was there. A
smile was in her tone. As if she had once been in my place, had long
since accepted her existence here. "Your master will be with you
shortly. Your training will begin at once. Do you need to relieve
yourself?" I shook my head yes. "Good. He will take care of that.Ó
D R E A M G I R L S N E W S
THE COMPUTER MILITIA
by Andrew Roller
Some people have asked me, what are we going to do if a.s.s. is
banned in America? Here are some ideas. The first I am actually offering
to act upon, the rest are just thoughts. ÒI think, therefore I am.Ó That
sort of thing.
1. My work will be available on diskette. Send me $5.00 and I will
mail you everything I have in a nice greeting-card envelope. $5.00 will be
the standard charge for this service. You can live anywhere in the world,
and the charge will still be only $5.00. This is five U.S. dollars, of course.
Make checks (drawn on a U.S. bank) payable to ANDREW ROLLER. My address
is Andrew Roller, 5960 S. Land Park Dr. #253, Sacramento CA 95822,
U.S.A. If that address is too long for you to bother with, write to: Andrew
Roller, P.O. Box 221295, Sacramento, CA 95822, U.S.A. Do not write to the
Jim Corrigan address, as Jim only knows how to distribute paper booklets.
He is not computer literate.
I own a Macintosh computer. I will save my stories as Òtext only.Ó
However, in the past, people who own non-Macintosh computers have been
unable to read my Òtext onlyÓ files. I would suggest the following: PLAN
to take my disk (when you receive it) to a KinkoÕs Copies type place (a
rent-a-computer place) and transfer it into a format you can read.
Include an age statement when you order. Just write ÒI am 18 years
of age or olderÓ and sign it. DonÕt forget to print your name and address
somewhere on the sheet of paper (so I can use it to mail the diskette to
you). You can always write more about yourself if you wish (I enjoy
reading it), but there is no need to. If you are in a hurry, just write down
the words I have listed above.
I will be continually Òpolishing upÓ my stories. This means that
newer versions will become available as time goes by. (Chambers of Love
is pretty much Òset in stone,Ó but other tales are not. A number of them
havenÕt even been typed yet.) I would recommend that every year or every
six months you send me another $5.00. Then I will send you the very
latest version of my works. As always, I will try to make this disk a
ÒComplete Works of Andrew RollerÓ disk, which means you will get
everything there is, including some material that you already have.
I will release all Òelectronic disseminationÓ rights to my stories IF
A.S.S. IS BANNED in America. (See tomorrowÕs article for full information
on this point.) It would be my sincerest hope that you would post my
stories from your ÒoffshoreÓ location. Post them anywhere. This brings
up the next point.
2. ÒFlamingÓ on non-banned boards. If you have an OdonnelSux
mindset and want to plaster my stories on OTHER peopleÕs boards
(government owned boards, feminazi boards, etc.) please do so. I will not
mind. Of course, you cannot write to me and tell me you are buying a disk
to specifically violate the law. In that case I would not be able to send it
to you. But if you write and tell me that you discovered my work on, say,
the ÒJunior Feminazis NewsgroupÓ well, that would certainly amuse me.
3. I do not have any Òcomputer-virusÓ capabilities. However, if you
are angry about a.s.s. being banned in America and know how to make
computer viruses, I would advocate Òheavy bombardmentÓ of all
government computers. Night and day they should be subjected to
continual infiltration and bombardment. After all, if you have no porno
stories to read on a.s.s., what else are you going to do with your time?
Certainly the computers of the U.S. Senate, The U.S. House of
Representatives, and the F.B.I. should be bombarded. Why should they be
allowed to purvey their point of view to America while we are forced
(through PHYSICAL COERCION) to remain silent? If we are shut down, they
should be shut down. This is my point of view. I cannot act on this point
of view (even if I wanted to), but it is my opinion and I am entitled to
speak my mind. (Note that I did not use any "obscene, lewd, lascivious,
filthy or indecent" words to express that opinion, either.)
Free Naughty Naked Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up)
age statement to: roller666@aol.com Free Naughty Naked Dreamgirls
minicomics: send a greeting-card SASE, age statement to: Jim
Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A. Naughty Naked
Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427). Chat:
alt.sex.stories.d END OF 26 EMISSION