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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LUSTÕS LAIR
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Chapter One
Deep in the mountains of Bosnia, there is a refuge from the modern
world. A castle looms amidst the rocks there, often so shrouded by mist
that it cannot be seen. Dense forest blocks all but a single road to the
castle. For the last 30 miles it is a dirt road. Here, like a lost island, the
rules and codes of the 20th century fall away.
Few know about the castle. For the peasants, living in the hamlets
scattered beyond the forestÕs deepest parts, the castle is a dangerously
mysterious place. In Europe, and in America, and increasingly in Russia,
the castle is known as a daunting sexual retreat. A few bold couples
choose to go there, despite the expense, despite the rumors of things gone
wrong. This is the story of one of them.
They arrived looking like the perfect tourists. The man was from
Connecticut, 25, dressed in a slick Armani suit for the occasion. The
woman, just a girl really, for she was only 17, wore a pretty brimmed hat
with a daisy in it. When she spoke her voice had an artless Southern drawl
to it. Not deep, just the light, civilized drawl of a Southern girl brought
up in a proper middle class home. A black mesh veil of fine silk covered
her eyes. She wore a white blazer that matched her hat and elegant high
heeled booties. She had white gloves on her hands. Her skirt was the only
clue she might be daring, it hugged her bottom like a glove and stopped
just below it.
AngelaÕs servant met them at the door and brought them to her. She
greeted them where she greeted all her guests, in the parlor, amidst the
eighteenth century photo albums of relatives long-dead and the much-
fingered King James Bible. It was a small room, with tall windows that
looked out on the forest, giving a spectacular view, but the drapes, on this
day, as on most days, were drawn shut.
ÒPlease go upstairs and undress,Ó were the first words Angela spoke
to her guests. She was drinking tea, but she did not even turn her head to
acknowledge the young couple standing in the entrance to the parlor. She
did not care to waste her time with the uncommitted.
The man began to speak. Angela put her teacup down. She looked the
man straight in the eye. ÒPerhaps youÕve come to the wrong address,Ó she
smiled sweetly. But her eyes held a look of contempt. ÒPlease go upstairs
and undress.Ó She saw them fidget. A small concession was required
here, if she were to keep them, she realized. And, since they were both as
beautiful as their pictures had indicated, the girl with long flowing blonde
hair and the man dark and rugged, she decided to make it. ÒThere are
swimsuits on the guest bed,Ó she explained. She saw a wave of relief
wash over the guestsÕ faces. Always they clung to this little straw, she
said to herself. This last little straw that helped them lie to themselves.
About themselves.
She looked the girl over with increasing interest. She was petite,
and a minor to boot, but with luscious round breasts and a narrow waist
with svelte hourglass hips. Her legs, sticking out from her short, glove-
like skirt, were breathtaking in their length. Angela liked the girlÕs
choice of clothes. It was a pity that she got to see so little of this aspect
of a girl, but it couldnÕt be helped. Gazing at the girlÕs bust, she said to
her, ÒDo not put on the bikini bra the servant laid out for you.Ó The girl,
following AngelaÕs eyes, glanced self-consciously down at her chest.
ÒJust the panties will be fine,Ó Angela told her.
The girl blushed. Jill was her name. She looked at her boyfriend,
Dave. For help, for approval. But he gave none. ÒWell, it is Europe, after
all,Ó Jill finally said. Only then did her boyfriend notice her and her
misgivings. Tearing his eyes away from Angela, he nodded in agreement
with her.
Yes, the small concession had been worth it for this one, Angela told
herself. She gazed admiringly at the young man and did not try to conceal
it. Some boyfriends, or husbands, were not much to look at. But this one
was a true Adonis. She would have to keep his girlfriend occupied so she
could enjoy him.
The servant led the young couple upstairs. Angela permitted them
this small moment of privacy, but she could easily guess their movements,
their hushed words. She painted a picture of it in her mind and knew it
was correct.
The guest bedroom was large and spacious. The couple was
surprised. They had come seeking strangeness, instead found luxurious
convention. A stately bed bore embroidered covers, sewn by the women in
the village, patterns of baroque trees and flowers and, hidden within the
trees, a shy fawn. The bedÕs frame, right up to its pillar-like bedposts,
was sturdy. Pillows lay plumped against the headboard like conspiring
lovers.
The maid closed the bedroom door to give them privacy. But she
listened, her ear against the door. It interested her to hear what was
spoken. Her friends in the village would enjoy the fresh gossip. They
would give her fresh loaves of bread in exchange for it.
Within, the intimate conversation of the couple.
ÔShould we?Õ the girl asks her lover.
ÔWe must. We have come already,Õ he replies gruffly. He does not
wish to be asked to reconsider their decision. He is too hard up now to
reconsider it. Too drawn in by AngelaÕs eyes and her awesome figure.
The girl beside him figets. She holds her purse like a talisman, as if
it will protect her from her decision. Taking off his shirt, seeing her
hesitancy, her lover comes over to her and unceremoniously unzips the
back of her skirt.
The girl drops her purse and claps her hands to her unzipped skirt. It
is half-fallen already, showing her bottom. He puts his hand to the back of
her panties. He yanks down their seat, showing himself her white cheeks
that he longs for. The girl utters a screamy gasp. The maid outside must
put her hand to her mouth quickly to avoid giving herself away in laughter.
A gruff command inside the bedroom. Then, silence, as the two of
them undress themselves. A peace renews itself between them as their
clothes fall away and they find themselves both naked. The girl asks her
lover again if they can leave. She approaches him, seeks intimacy,
compassion. Lightly her fingers graze his stemming cock. She feels she is
stroking a lion.
ÒShe is the best,Ó he tells her. The girl looks up at his face, wide-
eyed, still running her fingers over his erection.
ÒAt what?Ó she asks. He pulls away and motions to the swimsuit
laid out for her on the bed. He walks to the side of the bed where his own
suit lays waiting.
ÒAt what?Ó she asks him again. She looks forlorn. The man picks up
the trunks the maid has laid out for him. He looks them over with a quick,
manly interest. They are Speedoes. A mistake has been made. They are a
size too small. He considers requesting a larger size for himself but
decides to make do with what he has been given. He struggles into the
suit. It cups his balls hard and he has to work to get his erection
somehow within it. He considers stroking himself off but knows,
somehow, that Angela would not approve of this method of accomodating
himself to the suit.
The girl holds the miniscule panties assigned to her in her hands. It
is a small, white bikini bottom, looking quite pure but at the same time so
unsubstantial as to obviously not be for swimming. A vee of fabric in
front promises to cover at least part of her bush. But, despite this small
token of privacy, it quickly repents. The part of the panties designed to
run between her legs has no gusset. Instead there is only a string-like
strip of cloth. She knows it will wedge itself into her and rub her spot
the minute she puts it on.
She checks the back. A mere demi-seat, barely able to cup the
center of her fanny, forms the pantyÕs rear. She looks at her lover again in
hopes that he might repent and take her away, clothed again in her pretty
Sunday clothes, with the specially-short dress that he bought her to show
her off in, but he merely adjusts himself in his swimsuit and looks at her
expectantly.
In a little while, the couple returned. Angela glanced up at them as
they came to the parlor door. The servant led them. They halted at the
door, afraid, perhaps, to enter. Like a referee before a race Angela looked
over their bodies.
The man was naked now, except for a competition-style Speedo
swimsuit. It hugged his genitals and his butt with crude efficiency. His
penis, trapped by the nylon fabric, hung in front of him. He looked as if a
snake had been curled and then dropped in the front of his suit. Marie
could even make out the outline of his circumcised cockhead. Arriving in
the doorway, he asked Angela if they could have towels.
Angela laughed. ÒPlease, come sit down and share my tea,Ó she
replied. The couple entered the parlor. The manÕs well-hung equipment
jostled within his suit with his every step. His girlfriend walked calmly,
letting her breasts bounce freely and nakedly. She blushed a little as she
walked into the parlor. Angela gazed at her bosoms with practised
interest. She watched as the girl became uncomfortable under her gaze.
Yet her nipples stuck out with promising stiffness. She did not try to hide
her breasts behind her hands and she had bravely cast her long mane of
hair behind her back so that it would not conceal her.
The servant indicated a loveseat across from Angela for them to sit
in. The two Americans sat down. The girl noticed that there was a white
doily under her, on the seat, as she sat down on it. Astutely, she did not
try to remove it. As gracefully as she could she planted her bottom on it,
causing the plushly upholstered seat to sink under her. When she looked
down between her legs she saw that the doily was present there. A bit of
its round lace edge peeped up at her between her thighs.
ÒPlease put a hand in your panties,Ó Angela said to the girl.
ÒWhat?Ó Jill replied.
ÒI have given you the option of modesty, but thatÕs all,Ó Angela
replied. ÒYou may wear panties if you wish as we share tea, but you must
put your hand in them.Ó
The girl cast a quick glance at her boyfriend. He offered little help.
His swimsuit had stretched considerably in front. He seemed almost to be
grinning, just barely holding back a devilish smile. Angela smiled at him
and indicated silently with her eyes that she approved of his eagerness.
ÒDo as she says,Ó Dave said distractedly to Jill.
Jill blushed. Hesitantly, she put her fingertips inside the waistband
of her panties.
ÒAll the way in,Ó Angela said to her in a no-nonsense voice. Her eyes
were uncompromising. ÒPut them in and play with yourself. Play with
your cunt. Do not stop unless I tell you to.Ó
Jill blushed fiercely but complied. As her boyfriend watched with
eager eyes, she slid her fingers all the way into her panties. Like her
skirt and blazer and gloves had been, they were white, but they gave her no
protection. As her fingers reached the base of the vee that covered her
pussy, they popped out again. Only the string covered her between her
legs, where Angela wanted her to touch herself. Jill was forced to lift the
string from between her legs, which gave her a momentÕs relief, using her
trapped fingers in her panties to do it. But then she was obliged to stick
her fingers underneath the uplifted string and find her spot with her
fingertips.
Divested of all but this tiny fragment of her former white-clothed
purity, itself a gift, her own, more substantial panties, left upstairs, Jill
began to play with herself. She tried to do it delicately but Angela
frowned and snapped at her, ÒDonÕt just diddle yourself. Stick your
fingers into your cunt.Ó
Jill looked plaintively at her boyfriend but he was preoccupied with
AngelaÕs gaze. She looked down at herself. With her other hand she
helpfully lifted up the crotch-string that made a negligible effort to
inhibit her. Then, freed of it, holding it up from herself, with her other
hand she dove deeper still, within her nether lips, and wiggled her fingers
within her snug tightness.
The servant, a middle-aged woman, poured tea from a silver teapot.
She served Dave first. Then she poured a cup for Jill. She handed it to Jill
just as JillÕs fingers touched her sexual core.
ÒOh!Ó Jill blurted. Her exploring fingers felt a juicing of wetness
inside her. She blushed again, but Angela merely stared expectantly, and
the maid waited to give her tea. Jill let go of her crotch-string and
accepted the tea. She glanced at her boyfriend. He showed no interest in
her. He was unconcerned with her plight. She was making herself wet but
he remained with his eyes fixed on Angela.
Their host, however, was quite attentive to JillÕs condition.
ÒKeep playing with yourself, Jill,Ó Angela ordered her as Jill
attempted to sip from her teacup. Jill pouted in disapproval but obeyed.
So, drinking as delicately as she could from the china cup containing
her tea, the young girl brought herself to new unexpected spasms. Small,
unexpected explosions of sound escaped her throat as she attempted to
drink her tea.
Jill tried as hard as she could to ignore her rising pleasure.
Certainly her boyfriend paid no attention. The maid, waiting as if to give
her more tea but actually watching her masturbate, observed her much
more closely than he did. He was entranced with Angela. Angela sipped
tea and watched Jill as a mother does, ready to reprove mistakes.
Glancing about the curtain-shrouded room, trying not to dwell on her
feelings, Jill drank her tea. She drank with a sensitivity to manners,
despite her masturbating, for sheÕd been raised in a home that prized its
manners and its southern traditions. Her mother had taught her to always
hold the cup with one finger extended, and Jill did this, though now her
finger trembled a little. When sheÕd finished her cup of tea, the maid took
it and refilled it without Jill having to ask. She understood that she was
to drink this second cup too, and she hoped she did not have to ask
permission, when the time came, to visit the restroom. Tea tended to go
through her rather quickly.
Sitting like a dark-haired lion on the loveseat next to her, Dave,
JillÕs boyfriend, needed no encouragement to stroke his genitals. Angela
could see they were paining him and his hands ran hopefully along his
flanks, stroking even the insides of his thighs like a female might. But
she gave him no permission to pleasure himself. The male did not need to
be brought up to speed, like the female. He needed to learn restraint. He
needed to learn to hold his seed inside himself until the female was ready
for him.
It was a big change from just a few minutes ago, Angela thought,
when heÕd attempted to challenge her request that they undress. She
watched his hands running along his hair-laden thighs and when he
suddenly jerked and reached for his suit in some spasm of need, not to
masturbate but to adjust himself, she felt sorry for him. She smiled at
him and told him he could play with himself if he wished.
He cleared his throat. Keeping his hand from himself, taking a re-
filled teacup from the servant, he asked, ÒShall we be going swimming,
then?Ó His voice was manly, commanding. She saw that he was trying
hard to act his age and even to take control of the situation. He did not
want to be seen as a masturbating little boy, despite his desperation.
ÒOnly in the sea of love,Ó Angela smiled. He looked up, startled, as
he sipped his tea. His cock lengthened even more in his suit. ÒThis isnÕt
the Holiday Inn,Ó she added quietly.
ÒNo,Ó he replied.
ÒWhy do you wish me to do this?Ó the girl asked. Her nipples were
harder than ever and she shook her hair back. She was becoming heated.
Her hands worked inside her cunny, her crotch-string pushed aside, a
wetness had formed on her nether lips.
ÒYou must not speak unless you are spoken to,Ó Angela replied. She
did not look at the girl. She kept her eyes fixed expectantly on DaveÕs
crotch.
ÒBut IÕll be... well I already am...Ó the girl said. She looked down
between her legs.
ÒWet?Ó Angela asked. ÒYou are swimming, then, as your boyfriend
wishes. But in your own juices.Ó
ÒOh, I donÕt--!Ó the girl began. Angela silenced her with a finger to
her lips and a quick glance.
ÒIt may seem indelicate for me to inquire, but I must know her
sexual history,Ó Angela said to her boyfriend.
The servant brought a riding crop, a very long and slender one, and
handed it to Angela.
ÒYes, thank you,Ó Angela said, almost distractedly. She placed the
crop across her lap. She continued to gaze with interest at Dave,
alternating her glance between his face and his swimsuit. A wet spot was
forming on it where his pee slit was, issuing forth the pre-cum of his
arousal.
To further enflame him, not waiting for him to answer her question,
Angela told him about herself.
She was almost 30, and felt every nuance of her age, though she
might have, she admitted, easily passed for someone younger, for she had
high breasts and trim hips and liked to keep her hair hanging free, though
on this afternoon it was piled up in a bun on her head to give her a look of
authority.
Angela had Ôbegun early,Õ as they say, and quickly tired of
conventional sex. When she came into money unexpectedly, she quit
college. She went on a tour around the globe. It had one purpose,
concealed beneath its respectable appearance. She wanted to find a sexual
hideaway where she could practise and discover the rarest and most
beautiful aspects of human sexuality.
She almost bought in Myanmar. There was a lovely run-down
Buddhist temple there that she longed to restore and make an earthly
paradise, devoted to sin. But the generals who ran Myanmar were too
harsh and unpredictable, she decided. So she settled on Bosnia. Passing
through, at the height of the war, she heard of the castle. Against all
advice, the peasants fearing the castle more than they feared the war,
afraid to even speak of it, she drove to it and entered it. Alone. She came
at dusk and unrolled her sleeping bag in the living room. Then she
undressed. Crawling into her sleeping bag utterly nude, she dared the
castle to destroy her. She felt a heart-racing thrill as she watched the
last bits of daylight disappear from the living room. In the blackness of
the night she met her match. A man from the dead.
Angela relished the attentiveness of her listeners. Despite his
hard-on, the man listened intently, absorbed in her life and her story. The
girl, still inciting herself, though as diffidently as possible, listened
raptly.
Angela sipped her tea and continued. The peasants, she discovered,
had not been foolish in their fear. In the depths of the night she met the
castleÕs spectral ruler. He was gaunt and handsome and she could not
touch him but she felt touched by him. She nearly died of fright within his
illusionary hands. He made her perform unspeakable acts for her, all by
herself with him watching, goading, forcing her to do what she longed to
do but could not do without someone making her. She was forced to play
with herself and he made her pee in her sleeping bag. He took her outdoors
and in the cold he made her cut a birch branch for herself, with a knife he
gave her, or was it one she found in the grass? She had to bend herself
over a trestle in the castleÕs cellar and whip her own bottom. As she
whipped herself he made her suck him, though another might have thought
it merely a dildo she sucked, she knew it was him, for when she was sore
and tender he issued a cold brew into her mouth.
She ran to the top of the castle stairs when she felt the need and she
pooped her dinner out of a window. There should not have been a wagon
below but somehow, despite the late hour, there was, and a funeral
procession no less, and she plopped her turds on the half-swathed dead
body that lay in the wagon, and she knew it was him, passing below her
even as he watched her within the castle tower itself.
In the wee hours of the morning he presented himself to her anew.
Stemming freely and lustily despite his untimely death, despite the
centuries that had passed since he walked on the earth and could dig it up
and hold it in his hands, he carried her swooning downstairs again, to the
cellar, and he fucked her boldly. He was relentless with her. She
screamed but his need was that of a madman and for several hours she
could not satisfy him, no matter how hard she tried. He kept pummeling
her. He fucked her like an animal fucks one of its own kind, for she was
human but her lusts, he told her, were inhuman, as he himself now was.
When daybreak came she found a bargain struck between them: the
castle could be hers, if she used it for sex. She promised him she would.
The girl had experimented a little. Her boyfriend described to
Angela, as Jill sat listening, still required to play with herself, how
theyÕd gone to an orgy. And heÕd taken her to a sex dungeon in New York.
Jill figeted a little as he spoke of it, as if her bottom still remembered it.
ÒAnd the anus?Ó Angela asked, still addressing JillÕs boyfriend
exclusively. ÒShe has been fucked there too? I donÕt permit virgins here,
vaginally or anally.Ó
ÒWell, um,Ó the young man with the very full swimsuit coughed. ÒUh,
yeah, I guess...Ó he looked over at Angela.
Sensing she might be relieved of her duty to rub herself, Angela
piped up, ÒNo. IÕm a virgin back there. IÕd never let anyone violate my
hiney.Ó
Angela frowned. SheÕd sent them a questionnaire while they were
both still in America. Jill had put herself down as an anal virgin then, too.
ÒI gave you explicit instructions to fuck her in all of her holes before you
brought her here,Ó Angela said to Dave. ÒYou wrote back assuring me that
you would.Ó
ÒWell, I...Ó Dave began.
Angela flicked the riding crop on her lap.
ÒHe just didnÕt, thatÕs all,Ó Jill piped up, as if fearing she might get
in trouble for refusing him. The man was older than Jill but perhaps he
was still too sensitive, Angela mused. He must be made a thorough-going
master, not one who permits his female improper liberties. She glanced
at the girl. She was a high-schooler still, a little more daring than her
friends, perhaps, but still wilful and disobedient like a girl, enjoying her
refusals. She must be brought to the full flower of womanhood. She must
learn to accept her body and its needs and, more importantly, the needs of
the men in her life.
ÒCome here, both of you,Ó Angela said. The lovers looked at each
other and then rose up from their loveseat. Instinctively, turning her
head, Jill looked down at the doily on the seat. It was wet from her
sitting on it. She had drawn her hand from her panties and now she walked
self-consciously with her boyfriend over to Angela.
The woman sized up her new guests. She was only a few years older
than the male, but she exceeded him by vast amounts, she guessed, in
experience. His cock jutted so rudely and energetically at her face,
trapped in his swimsuit, that she dismissed all thought of sending him
away unfulfilled, despite his broken promise. She would teach him how to
handle a young woman and make her behave and do as he wished.
Angela looked directly at Jill. ÒThis will be the roughest sex youÕve
ever had,Ó Angela said. She decided not to mince any words with this
virgin. She had lost her own virginity long ago and the mind games of silly
young girls were tiresome to her. ÒVery rough.Ó She gazed intently at
Jill. ÒYou will have to give everything youÕve got, just to survive.Ó
Jill, standing all but naked in her little white panties in front of
Angela, shivered and stroked her thighs with her hands. A glance at her
boyfriend was only rewarded with a passionate smile. He gazed at her
now, at her breasts, at her tummy that heaved inward under her ribs. As
instructed she had not brought any pills with her. She realized she wanted
him, not just for a boyfriend but for life, and she knew it was a big
decision and the fact that she was willing to make such a decision scared
her. Yet he looked at her now with such interest that she could not stand
the thought of leaving him or of denying him anything.
ÒWill... will it hurt?Ó Jill managed to stammer.
Angela smiled at her. ÒSome days the pain will be so intense youÕll
think youÕre going to die. Other days the pleasure will be so overwhelming
youÕll forget who you are,Ó Angela said. JillÕs hands sleeked from the
outside of her thighs to their creamy insides. She looked as if she wished
to put them into her panties again. ÒYou must consider this a mission, my
dear,Ó Angela continued. ÒA quite impossible mission, one you may
decline, even now, if you wish. But once you begin your journey, there will
be no going back. No let up. No escape. I will not allow it. The integrity
of the experience must be preserved.Ó
Angela eyed Jill expectantly. Jill looked to her boyfriend, found he
was barely inside his swimsuit anymore. His cockhead threatened to burst
from its waistband.
Her breathing shaky with excitement and fear, but too aroused to
decline, thanks to her busy fingers, Jill nodded. When she realized sheÕd
nodded, she froze. Then she let out a great sigh of relief that sheÕd
decided, only to freeze again as she realized how momentous her decision
had been.
ÒVery good. ItÕs settled then,Ó Angela said to Jill, but not looking at
her anymore, as if she were just a doll.
ÒAnd, uh, I guess I will too,Ó Dave coughed. His cockhead peeped out
of the top of his swimsuit. Just the pee slit, but enough to show he
wasnÕt thinking of going anywhere at all. Angela looked at him and
laughed.
ÒYou men have a handy instrument that makes all your decisions for
you,Ó she smiled.
ÒDo I... do I have to take off my panties now?Ó Jill piped up helpfully.
Perhaps she hoped to find satisfaction with her boyfriendÕs hard on,
pleasing both herself and him, avoiding the scary abyss that was lurking in
AngelaÕs words. Perhaps she hoped all would be merely conventional, like
it had always been between them before.
ÒOh my love, this is my castle youÕre in now,Ó Angela purred to Jill.
She watched as the girlÕs nervous, anxious fingers played tensely across
her panties and settled on her pantied bush. Her clit was just below,
aching. ÒYou could mount your boyfriend in America. ThereÕs no need for
you to come here to get what heÕs already given you elsewhere.Ó Angela
lifted her riding crop. ÒHave you been whipped before, my dear?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Jill gasped. She stared at the wicked crop balanced between
AngelaÕs fingers.
ÒIt is important at the beginning of any relationship to establish
who is in charge and who is not,Ó Angela said to the girl. The words were
the same she spoke to every girl who came to her castle. She said them
with disinterest, as if they were nothing, like a cab driver giving his fare.
She flicked her eyes at Ron. He was included too, of course, but the girl
had always to be dealt with first. Girls could cause the most trouble in a
castle run by a woman. The men were easy.
ÒYes,Ó Jill said, nodding. She bit her lip compliantly, reassuring
herself that she was making the right decision, not permitting a contrary
thought to break through.
ÒPlease pull down your panties and turn around and show me your
bottom,Ó Angela told Jill. The girl flinched. She looked at her boyfriend
but heÕd slyly slid a hand to his crotch. Ostensibly it was to straighten
himself but his hand lingered unnecessarily.
ÒI--Ó Jill began.
ÒDo you remember what I said about not speaking unless youÕre
spoken to?Ó Angela asked. Jill reluctantly nodded.
Angela lifted her crop with a tentative air. She motioned for Jill to
turn around. The maidÕs hand took JillÕs teacup from her. Jill glanced
anxiously at her boyfriend and then she turned around so that her bottom
faced Angela. It was a large, well-formed ripe pumpkin, jutting back
fulsomely behind her despite the trimness of her hips. Angela tapped her
pantied seat with her riding crop. Jill bit her lip and squeamishly pulled
her panties down in back to show Jill the bottom that Dave had insisted on
spanking with his hand when they visited the dungeon in New York.
ÒYes, nice and plump. You choose your bottoms well,Ó Angela said
slyly to Dave. She tapped JillÕs bare seat and the girl gave an insecure cry
of alarm, despite the lightness of the tap and AngelaÕs complimentary
words. For a moment she was at home in her motherÕs parlor and she
blushed at how sheÕd never have been allowed to pull down her panties in
her motherÕs parlor. Yet now here she was, in a parlor at least as prim and
conservative as her motherÕs, yet despite being a small girl wondering if
she could moon the visiting pastor she was a big girl, and knew better, but
her bottom was bare.
Angela tugged lightly on the tip of her crop and then released it. The
hard length of it snapped against JillÕs ass. The girl leapt like a fish.
ÒDoes it excite you to feel my crop hitting your butt?Ó Angela asked
Jill frankly.
ÒN-no,Ó Jill protested. But her tummy felt all fluttery and she knew
no matter how much she loved Dave she would not be standing there
showing off her fanny to Angela if it didnÕt thrill her a little. The
sinfulness of it made her tremble. Angela was beautiful and eminently
mature, just like JillÕs lady friends who used to play bridge with her in
the parlor. And here Jill was, showing off her proud young bottom and
daring Angela with it.
ÒPart your legs,Ó Angela said to Jill. She touched her bottom with
her fingertips. Jill, taut like a bow, opened her legs slightly.
Angela inserted the tip of her crop between JillÕs legs. Jill drew her
breath in abruptly. Angela rubbed her cunt. She threaded her crop between
JillÕs nether lips and worked the crop across JillÕs spot like a saw.
ÒWe will go to the barn,Ó Angela said to Jill. She withdrew her crop.
ÒPull up your panties so the workmen donÕt see your bottom.Ó
Angela rose behind Jill. The girl felt her commanding presence
behind her and quickly drew up her panties to hide her bottom. They did
not hide as nearly as much of her seat as she liked but she understood that
they would do. She smoothed her seat to tidy it but the minute she took a
step forward her seat wedged up into her bottom, showing even more of
her than it already did.
Outside it was cold and the sun was going down. The workmen who
had seen the two Americans arrive in their rented Porsche now saw them
step out of the house, with Angela, dressed in swimsuits as if for
European swimming, the girl topless. But the three headed for the barn
and the workmen knew there was no swimming pool in the barn.
Angela herself remained clothed, walking in her black dress that
hugged her hips and her prominent bosom, her dark hair piled high on her
head. Gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. Jill also wore earrings,
and heels, belying her swimsuit, which was itself too small, despite being
made of nylon, for anything short of swimming in a private pool. The
workmen tipped their hat to Jill as she passed them. She walked hand-in-
hand with her boyfriend. He strode confidently across the grass, wearing
only his shoes. She walked less surely, dragged along behind him, like a
cork bobbing along in the wake of a speedboat, tethered to it. Toadstools
sprouted in the grass and although he walked oblivious to them, kicking
off their tender heads with his every footstep, Jill tried delicately to
avoid them. Angela whisked at a few with her crop, decapitating them.
Dave flushed a little as he saw the workmen but tried to ignore
them. He was 25, young and strong, and except for his lack of clothing he
had no reason to feel unconfident before them. Certainly, pulling up in his
porsche, with a beautiful young girl beside him, he had been the very
picture of confidence. HeÕd spoken to them with that measured disdain one
reserves for the lower classes, workmen who toil in the dirt, digging
ditches and hauling rocks, making the world pretty for the wealthy, brash
young men who play in it with their girlfriends. TheyÕd directed him to
the house when heÕd asked them if Angela lived there. TheyÕd been silent,
as they were now, but they did not keep their eyes lowered now as they
had before. Instead they stared at him frankly, at his swimsuit which
wouldnÕt get wet, except with his pre-cum. They looked at his penis as it
joggled inside his suit, a joystick yearning to break free. Dave did not
look at them at all this time. Instead he kept his eyes straight ahead,
walking with his love across the mushroomed grass with Angela walking
beside him, swinging her crop.
A workman, breaking from the others, ran ahead to open the barn. He
lifted a heavy wooden bar from double doors. He was old and frail, not like
the others, who were middle-aged, but he still managed to get the bar up
and, heaving it onto the grass, he pulled wide the barn doors. Angela
walked past him, Dave beside her, towing Jill.
The workman pushed the doors closed. Jill found herself standing in
the hushed silence of the barn. She could smell a horse and she heard the
whisking of the horseÕs tail as it flicked it across its haunches.
It was chilly in the barn, but not excessively so. Outdoors it had
been cold but JillÕs first hint that this was much more than a barn came as
Angela bent and lit an oil lamp. Its flame sputtered to life. Shapes that
had lay hidden in the dark suddenly were illuminated.
ÒMy God!Ó Jill blurted. As she spoke she heard the workman outside
replace the bar in the door with a heavy thud. She thought she could hear
laughter from the grass beyond but she wasnÕt sure.
Huge machines loomed around her. Some were clearly farm
equipment, intended for sowing and reaping, but others had a much more
sinister aspect. They reminded her of things sheÕd briefly seen in the New
York dungeon as her boyfriend hurried her to a private room to give her a
hand spanking.
Bars and trestles lay about her, and two sturdy posts stood in the
center, while yet more devices lay beyond, some with blades, as if for
shearing crops, or the appendages of humans. Around her on the walls hung
whips and chains and paddles, and rings to put on people, and to constrict
their most intimate parts with. And there were long oblong objects,
suitable for fucking, but they were brutish and insensate, not living
things, like her boyfriendÕs penis. And amidst the items of abuse, lay a
clutter of oils and gels, and condoms, strewn out ready for use on two
tables in the midst of all the equipment.
ÒTake off your swimsuits,Ó Angela said to her guests.
Dave let go of JillÕs hand abruptly. As she watched in horror he
quickly untied his suit and pulled it down his legs. His cock sprang to
attention. It pulsed with its wicked need, all hard and bulging with veins.
Despite her fears at being punished herself, she felt equally alarmed at
the display of his penis. Did he not see the scythes and the cutting blades
all around them? Did he feel so overwhelmed by his passion that he was
simply willing to ingore the danger they posed? Yet her own nipples stood
stiffly on her breasts, as hard as his big cock was.
Jill felt a hard slim object poking into the front of her panties,
pulling it down. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of AngelaÕs
riding crop. Angela pulled on the vee of JillÕs panties, where they covered
her in front, exposing her bush. Jill felt so scared she did not try to
resist. She watched the uncovering for a moment, looking at her curly
bush as its wisps of hair were exposed. Then, fearing she might be
punished it she didnÕt help, though she surely would be punished even if
she did help, Jill stuck her hands into the waistband of her panties and
drew them quickly down her legs.
ÒYes. Get them right off. You wonÕt be needing them here,Ó Angela
said to Jill. The girl drew her panties down to her feet and then bent over
nervously to pull them off her heels. She was all too aware of Angela
standing there with her crop as she offered her bottom in getting her
panties off.
As if to ensure the girl that she was, indeed, getting herself into hot
water, Angela whisked her crop lightly across JillÕs bare seat as Jill bent
to relieve her feet of her tangled panties. JillÕs nether cheeks retracted
with fright. The rubbery spheres were so bulging and perfect and yet such
a tempting target, for wicked minds, as Jill knew. She was only 9 when
sheÕd first noticed boys and even perverted men gazing at them. Always
they seemed to want to poke something between them or, failing that, to
swat them. Jill looked back at her boyfriend but found to her dismay that
he only watched with interest, not interfering at all. He appeared to
expect her to be hit.
ÒGive me your panties,Ó Angela said to Jill. Meekly Jill handed them
over. Angela thrust her crop into a sash round her waist for safekeeping.
She held up JillÕs panties and appeared to examine them. Jill blushed at
how wet they were, especially on the little string that had run through her
cuntlips. Suddenly, with her long-nailed fingers, Angela began ripping the
panties. Jill watched in horror for the workmen were outside and she had
nothing to put on to go back to the house. Angela shredded the panties
until they were nothing but torn bits of fabric. Then she opened her
slender hands and let the pieces flutter to the smooth dirt floor of the
barn.
ÒThere, so much for that nonsense,Ó Angela said. Jill looked down at
her panties like a mother hen regarding eggs which the farmer has taken.
Eggs soon to be smashed to make someoneÕs breakfast.
ÒGive me your swimsuit,Ó Angela said to Dave. Willingly, if
somewhat in awe of her, JillÕs boyfriend handed over his Speedoes. Angela
sniffed the pre-cum stain on the front of his suit. Then she ripped up his
swimsuit just as lustily as sheÕd destroyed JillÕs.
ÒAlright, you two, letÕs begin,Ó Angela said to them. She made no
attempt to remove her own clothes. Instead she brandished her crop at
them both and motioned for them to retreat before her.
Jill turned and anxiously took DaveÕs hand.
ÒNo hand holding,Ó Angela snapped. Dave let go of Jill and she was
made to walk beside him without the consolation of his touch. They came
to a trestle. It was made of bare wood and there were marks on it, as if
someone had struggled there, and there were gashes in the wood. Atop the
trestle was a small cushion for a seat and in front of the cushion, right in
front of it, almost attached to it, was a rude metal blade. It was perhaps
an inch in height and Jill, inspired for some reason to touch it, felt a
sharpness along its exposed surface, not sharp enough to cut but definitely
sharp enough to be quite uncomfortable. A rope dangled down in front of
the small blade, about a foot in front of it, as if to catch at something.
Stirrups hung down from the trestle. Behind the cushion that formed the
trestleÕs seat, jutting out from the beam that supported it, were two
beams. They looked like wings, as if this trestle were expected to fly.
ÒThis is called the horse from hell,Ó Angela said to Dave. She
flicked her crop across his bare hairy ass. ÒGet on it.Ó
ÒNo!Ó Jill shrieked. For she could suddenly see where a young man
seated on the trestleÕs seat would find his balls. Across the blade, split
by them and offered up. Wickedly the blade did not promise to split them
between the eggs of his balls, but actually ran underneath both eggs at
once, shoving them up so that the front of his scrotum was cut off from
the back. ÒDave, you mustnÕt!Ó Jill begged. She grabbed his hand but was
rewarded with a warning flick of AngelaÕs crop across her own bare seat.
ÒI can handle it,Ó Dave chuckled, though he sounded none too sure. He
was too young to admit his potential fallibilities. Lured by AngelaÕs eyes,
which yearned for him to test himself, even as she whisked her crop
menacingly over his bum, Dave mounted the horse.
ÒOuch!Ó he cried as he attempted to settle himself on the horseÕs
seat. For the minute he did, his balls made contact with the little blade in
front. It dug into his scrotum and made it bulge painfully over its sharp
edge. His cock, a big long sausage, was shoved upward by the pushing up of
the blade under his balls.
Òooooooh!Ó Jill said in a low, meek howl. She laid her fingers gently
upon his uplifted penis and petted the big cock as if it were some
tormented animal. Angela, meanwhile, put the dangling string to good use.
She wrapped its length around DaveÕs cockhead, right behind the flange.
Then she malevolently yanked the rope up, pulling down on its other end
where it hung down from the rafters like a bell pull for a bell.
ÒDing dong,Ó Angela teased. DaveÕs cock was yanked upright, pushing
KateÕs worried fingers aside. Underneath his balls spread upon the too-
thin blade, offered like summer squash for a harvest feast.
ÒKneel down and fix his feet in the stirrups,Ó Angela told Kate. The
girl knelt and found she was on flat bare vinyl next to the horse. The dirt
floor had given way to more generous accomodations, though she longed to
be back in the dirt by the front door. It was safer there.
Kate buckled her boyfriendÕs feet into the horseÕs stirrups. Her
fingers traced his ankles lovingly, hating to see him bound so, on such an
uncomfortable steed, his genitals offered up by it for wicked Angela to
toy with. Angela, meanwhile, drew Dave back so that his arms rested
behind him on the wings that jutted out from the trestleÕs top bar.
Keeping his butt on the cushion, he was made to lean back and have his
arms strapped to the wings. When Jill stood up again she was presented
with the ungainly sight of her lover showing his cock, his body leaning
back to make his cock all the more openly available.
There was a knock at the door of the barn. Jill turned her head
quickly, expectantly. Somehow she was sure someone was coming to save
them. She was childlike in her desire for rescue. Up here in the mountains
there could be no rescue, only others like Angela, seeking pleasure and
release in pain.
ÒJill, go see whoÕs at the door,Ó Angela said absently to the girl.
Jill looked at her lover but he seemed preoccupied with his predicament,
pained yet delighted to show his manhood so openly to the lovely Angela.
She stroked his staff reassuringly, but not as hard as he wished, for he
yearned to spout for her.
Jill walked to the front door.
ÒWho is it?Ó she asked.
For answer, she heard the bar lifted. Then the twin doors opened
and, to her horror, a man appeared. He was dressed in riding gear, as if
freshly returned from a ride. He had a woman beside him and, behind them,
as the doors split wide to let them enter, Jill saw two horses, held by
reins.
ÒHello, whatÕs this? A new guestÕs of AngelaÕs?Ó the manÕs voice
boomed. He was big and swarthy, perhaps 30, with a barrel chest. Despite
his ride his clothes were impeccable. He wore a British gentlemanÕs polo
suit. Behind him the woman wore a riding cloak with a hood. ÒWho are
you?Ó the man demanded cheerfully. The woman smiled at Jill.
ÒIÕm Jill,Ó Jill answered, feeling rather like Alice in Wonderland
addressing its weird denizens. Except Alice at least had the priviledge of
wearing clothes, while Jill was forced to confront her new friends in the
nude.
ÒJill IÕm Rob, and this is Beth,Ó the man grinned. His eyes had a
possessive quality. He spent as much time admiring her bosoms as
anything, and even let his eyes drop frankly to her bush. The woman,
thought slightly more reserved, in deference perhaps to a fellow female,
did the same.
ÒIÕll put the horses up for you, sir,Ó an elderly voice offered. Beyond
Jill saw the elderly man whoÕd opened the barn for herself and her lover,
and Angela.
ÒYes, why not?Ó Rob replied. He handed over the reins. As Rob
entered, his lady friend coming in behind him, the elderly servant brought
the horses in too, but quickly took them aside and around behind the
equipment to where the other horse was stabled, along a far wall of the
barn.
Jill, frightened at the new visitors, yet somehow secretly excited to
find herself so helplessly nude before this dashing stranger, turned and
walked back to where her lover sat trapped on the horse. Rob followed,
and she had little doubt, as she walked with her bare white fanny swinging
behind her, where his eyes were fastened. She flicked back her mane of
blonde hair in an attempt to show confidence. She did not want to be
thought of as only a little schoolgirl, too young to play with men and their
penises. Yet just as she began to feel confident she remembered that she
had brought none of her pills. That made her scared again, for she did not
even know this man behind her and already he had a perfect view of her
body and all it possessed. She put her hands to her hips and tried to still
the rolling motion as they walked. She must not excite him. She did not
wish to bear his children.
Rob, strolling behind Jill, got an entirely different message. As he
saw her put her hands to her hips he imagined her to be framing her
bottom with her hands, offering it to him. As a conessiour of the whip, he
imagined Jill, despite her youth, to be a lover of leather who longed for a
lashing. He glanced at his girlfriend and smiled. She smiled knowingly
back at him. She had been trained by him to love the bite of the whip and
she saw his longing for Jill. She could not deny him, of course, but to
reassure him that she would not mind she squeezed his hand and nodded
approvingly. She herself felt an admiration for JillÕs behind. It was young
and high and firm and inviting. It had the girlish impetuousness of a
schoolgirl still about it when Jill walked. Beth knew Jill would make a
fine sexual spectacle when her master brought his many-tailed crop to her
hiney.
ÒWell, well, what have we here?Ó Rob asked. ÒA young stallion?Ó
Dave was forced to confront their new visitors. He glanced at Rob
nervously but was unable to shake his hand, for his own two arms were
bound back to the wings of the trestle. Nonetheless Rob put out his hand,
but to shake the staff of DaveÕs cock.
ÒMy, this oneÕs hard as a rock,Ó Rob gloated. ÒWhat kind of seat do
you expect to offer a woman with that thing sticking up?Ó he asked Dave.
ÒA fine seat indeed,Ó Beth gushed. She blushed a little as she spoke.
Dave was completely offered, his balls shoved up by the bar, his cock
strung up, quivering stiffly in its noose.
ÒAnd how are you faring, sir?Ó Angela asked with a coy glance at
Rob.
ÒWe were necking in the woods, but he wanted to bring me back to
the stable to do me,Ó Beth said. She looked at Rob, blushed again. Angela
nodded. SheÕd got Rob and Beth started a month ago, Beth a beginner, Rob a
savant, but needing more training, as all men did, at AngelaÕs. They
operated largely on their own now, freeing her to attend to her newer
guestÕs needs.
ÒDo you mind if they play along with us?Ó Angela asked Dave. She
did not look at Jill. With his cock quivering upright, his balls jammed up
under him by the bar, Dave was hardly in a position to refuse. But she
asked anyway, and waited expectantly for an answer.
ÒIf- if you get undressed,Ó Dave said to Angela. His eyes stared
longingly at her bosom.
ÒYes, Dave dear, IÕll get undressed,Ó Angela smiled. She winked at
her guests. ÒWill that please you if I get undressed?Ó
ÒYes. Take your clothes off,Ó Dave gasped. He shifted uncomfortably
on the seat. The blade under his balls cut uncompromisingly into them.
ÒJust cum if the blade gets too uncomfortable for you,Ó Angela
smiled at Dave, turning to walk away.
ÒI-- canÕt,Ó Dave gasped.
ÒWell just stop thinking naughty thoughts then,Ó Angela said. She
came round the horse and stood on tiptoe and kissed Rob. ÒHi sweetie,Ó
she breathed when their kiss finally broke. Beth, meanwhile, crept close
to Jill and touched her with seeking fingers. She touched JillÕs slim
shoulder first and then, though Jill started, she did not resist, so Beth
stroked the hollow of JillÕs childish tummy, drawn in like her
bottomcheeks were, tense and unyeilding.
ÒRelax,Ó Beth said to Jill. She kissed the girlÕs cheek. ÒI like the
whip too. And IÕm always afraid of it before I get it.Ó Beth passed her
hand around behind Jill. The girlÕs hiney was still clenched and Beth
patted it lightly to try to reassure her. ÒRest your bottom on my hand,Ó
she said. ÒPretend youÕre sitting on it.Ó Slowly, for Beth was kissing her
face and making Jill hot, Jill relaxed her behind. ÒThere, thatÕs it. Let it
settle into my palm,Ó Beth urged. ÒSit on it.Ó As Jill untensed her soft
bottom Beth probed within her crevice for her hole.
Immediately JillÕs seat tightened again.
ÒOh, youÕre so young and nervous,Ó Beth breathed. ÒI like that. IÕm
just learning myself how to control my nerves. But IÕm older than you.
How old are you?Ó
ÒSeventeen,Ó Jill gasped. She did not know what to do, with her
well-hung boyfriend displayed so rudely beside her, and Beth drawing her
close, seeking, finding, working a finger unabashedly into her cheeks.
Beside her the soft sounds of an extended kiss between Angela and Rob
assailed her ears. It was pleasant, and warm, and she was oh so bare, and
it was so frightening to be among all these awful machines, yet so erotic
too, to think of herself this way, as just a mouth and a hole in front and
one in back, and bouncy titties and long legs.
ÒShall we have our clothes off then?Ó Angela asked. The question
was more rhetorical than not, but Beth, hearing her, nodded, and Jill,
forgetting she was already naked, nodded too.
At first each undressed him or herself, taking off the outer
garments, while Jill stood watching, a finger in her mouth, absorbed by
her own feelings and the sight of the others. As the outer clothing fell
away Angela and Rob and Beth undid what remained on each other. Each
took pleasure in the otherÕs nudity, exposing breasts, bottoms, and finally
loins, Jill helping, her hands getting off BethÕs bra and panties, and
helping Angela strip off RobÕs shorts. She was glad that Dave had taken
her to an orgy, for otherwise her fingers would have trembled too much,
like they did at the orgy. Naked, the three did not stop their caresses, but
increased them, with Jill joining in. Jill and Angela felt RobÕs fine
upstanding organ while Beth bent and nuzzled JillÕs ass, using her small
petite nose to assault the girl and enquire between her cheeks. Angela
played her fingers across RobÕs ass, slapping him a little. Rob kissed
JillÕs head, for she was shorter than him, and grasped and held her breasts
and toyed with her perky nipples.
ÒEnough. I believe in dressing up for pleasure,Ó Angela sighed at
last. ÒAt least when I have brand new guests like Jill and Dave.Ó She cast
an inviting glance at Beth and Rob and began walking toward the back of
the barn, taking JillÕs hand to make the girl come along with her. Jill
hoped for some clothes as she stumbled along behind Angela. Anything
would be better than being buck-naked in a place like this!
At the back of the barn there was a small dressing room. There was
no door on it for everyone dressed in the presence of everyone else, and
without hiding anything. But the room had a mirror in it for fitting
purposes, and there were hangers to hang clothes on, if needed. In their
haste Angela and Beth and Rob had simply draped their clothes over the
machines around Dave or let them fall to the floor.
Angela, as domme, chose a lace-up vest that left her arms free
while tying in front to lift and display her boobs. It was an elaborate
affair to get her front all laced up and Jill and Beth helped her, standing
naked before her as they suited her up with their darting fingers. Rob,
admiring the view from behind, donned a cape. He put on leggings that
sheathed his powerful thighs and calves but left his groin exposed. In
back, his ass in all its hairy glory stuck out of his pants, for they had no
seat. But a sturdy buckle, part of the pants, had to be buckled around his
waist. His cape, falling down his back, broad enough to cover his
shoulders, nonetheless fell just short of hiding his ass. Bareassed he sat
down on a prickly bale of hay and pulled on a pair of knee-high black boots.
To go with her vest, Angela chose a short black skirt. It was slit,
for it was meant to flirt in. Angela adjusted the skirt so that the slit was
in back, where it flapped open to show her bare white bottom. Some
decorative lacings adorned the very apex of the slit and Beth and Jill tied
up the lacings to make Angela look pretty. Despite taking five minutes,
the lace job, when done, still left AngelaÕs bottom quite exposed, and she
paraded back and forth in her skirt a few times, feeling the flapping of the
short leather against her thighs.
ÒI think IÕll wear this next time I go out,Ó Angela said. ÒWith white
panties underneath.Ó She laughed. She looked at Beth. ÒDo you think it
would be too risque?Ó
ÒI think youÕd have a lot of fun doing the bump and grind,Ó Beth
replied. For AngelaÕs sake, she blushed, despite being quite naked herself.
Angela, her tits sticking up out of her tight vest, showing her
nipples, and her skirt slit up the back, exposing her ass, next put on boots.
She chose knee high boots, so that her bare thighs could be better admired.
Her skirt, meanwhile, being just a bib, really, except where it was slit,
where it was nothing, hung out away from her every time Angela bent over.
For Angela didnÕt bother to put her boots on sitting down. She was in too
much of a hurry. She merely pulled them on, standing upright, then knelt
down on the clean-swept rubber-matted floor and tied up the laces
herself.
ÒGet dressed,Ó she nodded to Beth. ÒI want to get started.Ó
ÒWhat shall I wear?Ó Jill piped up. She stood with a finger in her
mouth, watching Angela.
ÒYou, my dear, get to wear a gear belt,Ó Beth smiled at her. ÒWait a
minute and IÕll put it on you.Ó
Rob, not wanting such a fine young female to feel bereft, reached out
from where he still sat on a bale of hay and drew Jill over to his lap.
Unselfconsciously the girl let him put her on the smooth leather trousers
that sheathed his legs. Then, suddenly, she realized his dick was sticking
right up at her.
ÒWhat happened to your pants?Ó Jill squeaked. She gazed at his
boldly stemming penis. It rose from where his crotch should have been,
unrestrained, for the pants, while having legs and a belt, had no groin area
at all.
ÒThese pants are for having sex in,Ó Rob said to her. ÒDo you like
them?Ó
Jill considered a moment. She pulled at her lower lip with her
finger, as if deep in thought. ÒNot really,Ó she said.
Rob roared with laughter. With his big calloused hand on her worried
tummy, Jill remembering again howÕd sheÕd left off bringing her pills, he
laughed until his big hairy guffaws, seizing his chest, shook her right
down to her tailbone. ÒWell, my little lady,Ó he said at last. ÒIn case you
havenÕt noticed, IÕm at least a tad more modest than you are.Ó Then he
drew her closer, lest she take the hint and try to find herself something to
wear. He kissed her face as she tried to resist him, her hands pressing
against his chest. But she didnÕt really try hard to resist him, despite the
stubbly dayÕs growth of beard on his chin, and as he kissed her mouth,
intruding his tongue into her, seemingly all the way into her throat, she
felt one of her hands fall down and flutter over and then grip quite
possessively the head of his cock.
Jill felt Rob reach down and lift one of her legs up. Still kissing her,
he pulled her leg up and over his own so that she was forced to face him
with her thighs imprisoned outside his hips. He drew her closer still and
she felt his huge cock stab at her small quiet bush. Instantly he deposited
a big dollop of pre-cum in her pubic thatch and she knew the wetness she
felt wasnÕt hers alone anymore. Impulsively, despite her misgivings about
not having her pills along, she urged her hips forward to give him greater
contact.
Suddenly a finger poked its way into her wide-spread bottom cheeks.
ÒTime to get up and get dressed, little lady,Ó a voice said behind Jill.
Jill squeaked at the assult in her bottom and was down off RobÕs lap
before she knew it. In fact, it was RobÕs girlfriend whoÕd stuck a finger
into her hiney-hole. Her virgin hole, slumbering still, despite all sheÕd
already seen this day, and the orgy sheÕd been too, and the New York
dungeon where her boyfriend paddled her bottom with his hand.
As Rob watched, Beth, who was now dressed in a no-nonsense
harness and collar adorned with spikes, fitted Jill with a gear belt. It
was a simple belt that went around JillÕs waist and buckled in front. But
it had three big brass rings hanging off it, like loose shutters swinging
before an approaching storm.
ÒWhat are these for?Ó Jill asked. She passed a finger through one of
the big rings.
ÒTheyÕre for ropes,Ó Beth replied. Before Jill could protest she
finished getting her buckled into the belt and then kissed her cheek.
ÒCome, we must get cuffs for you,Ó she said. ÒJust in case you decide to
be a recalcitrant slave.Ó She smiled at Jill but Jill only stared back at
her. Rob watched her wiggly white bottom as she was led away from him,
and vowed to himself to fuck it thoroughly before their party came to an
end.
The four of them dressed, the party resumed round the horse where
Dave was so inconveniently seated. Unlike the rest he still wore only the
stirrups round his ankles, and the bonds snapped around his arms. His
penis still had a noose clinging around it.
ÒNow Jill, weÕre going to perform a little operation on your
boyfriend,Ó Angela said merrily. Donning a nurseÕs cap, which hardly
matched her black leather vest or skirt or boots, she nonetheless set
about ÔoperatingÕ on Dave. Beth, whose harness had sharp spikes, handed
Angela a small SpanglerÕs candy cane. Angela licked its tip and then
inserted it into the pee hole of DaveÕs penis.
Dave groaned. Jill shrieked but nobody paid any attention to her. She
was standing in her gear belt, with two cuffs attached to the side of it.
They looked rather like little wings sticking off the side of her belt and
they served to restrain her arms. They were fastened just above her
elbows, and she had been bent back slightly to make her elbows fall even
lower agains the side of her body. As a result, thought standing up
straight, and able to walk, Jill was imprisoned with her arms by her sides.
Yet she could not even pass her hands behind herself, for the cuffs stuck
out from her belt stiffly and held her arms away from her hips. Behind
her, still in his pants, Rob stroked JillÕs bare bottom. There was nothing
she could do to keep his hand off her and she was forced to accept his
caresses, however intimate they might be.
Her lover, meanwhile, endured further torments at the hands of RobÕs
girlfriend and Angela. They tied a satin bow tightly around the middle of
his penis shaft in hopes of holding back his sperm. Then, with the candy
cane, they began to fuck his pee hole, moving the candy cane in and out of
it. Mericfully, they paused to dip the candy cane in vaseline to protect it
from melting and to ease the passage inside his penis a little. All the
while their fingertips played over his throbbing shaft as if it were some
erotic flute. At AngelaÕs insistence, Beth fetched a penis whip. She
flayed it over DaveÕs trapped balls. The whip had a knotted tip and Beth
hit him gently, but Angela told her to hit him harder. So Beth struck
DaveÕs family jewels more forcefully, Jill watching, her pills back home
where they could do her no good at all, no matter how damaged his sperm
might become in the process.
Jill felt a nudge between her cheeks and a moment later it became
much more insistent. It was big and knobby and she knew who it belonged
to. She cast her eyes back behind herself, tossing her blonde hair back as
she turned her head.
ÒI havenÕt taken any pill,Ó she explained quietly to Rob. She
tightened her hiney against him and squeezed her thighs tightly together.
ÒWhat?Ó he asked. ÒWell, itÕs every man for himself here, and every
girl too.Ó He shoved himself forward and Jill squeaked and her knees
buckled and she found herself quite involuntarily entertaining his big thing
between her thighs.
ÒDonÕt!Ó she said. Her voice was a hushed whisper, as if she didnÕt
want her lover to find out she had another man within her.
ÒYou need a whip on this little bottom of yours,Ó Rob growled behind
her. Jill squirmed in his grasp. Her bare fanny rubbed against the hair on
his stomach. He was bending down, his knees bent, to better find his way
inside her.
ÒNO I donÕt!Ó Jill protested, at both the whip and his urging between
her lips. She felt his endlessly wet penis-tip deposit pre-cum inside her
splurging lips. ÒDonÕt fuck me! I havenÕt taken my pill!Ó she squawked.
ÒRob, are you behaving?Ó Angela asked him slyly, still busily fucking
Dave with the candy cane in his penis.
ÒBetter than you are,Ó Rob answered. He lifted Jill in his arms. The
girl kicked her feet but the floor was quite gone and they dangled in mid-
air. He eased his hips under her, shoving her bare thighs apart with his
own intruding hairy legs wedging between them. Then, lowering her,
gripping her waist tightly with her hands while she twisted her head in
protest and flapped her hands, duck-like, unable to move them, he shoved
his dick up into her cunt.
ÒOHHHHHHH! NodonÕtfuckme IhavenÕthadmyPill!Ó Jill screamed. But
it was useless for her arms were quite trapped and her head was just a
bobbing nuisance, facing away from him, and her legs could only kick. His
thighs kept hers wide apart and as Jill shuddered in horror she felt his
long shaft plunge deep up into her too-wet vagina, all juicy from her
masturbating and her excitement. He forced himself right up into her
womb, taking several minutes to do it, for she was very tight and she
clenched herself mercilessly.
Angela and Beth laughed at JillÕs resistance. Dave, stuck on the
horse, could only watch in horror as his quite fertile little girlfriend was
imapled on another manÕs cock. His own had the indignity of being shafted
within itself by a childÕs minature candy cane, one a little girl might hold,
or poke her baby brother with.
ÒNooooo, donÕt cum!Ó Jill pleaded. Rob began to lift her up and down
by her waist, ignoring her kicking feet, her gyrating hips and her bobbing,
shouting head. He stabbed her repeatedly with his cock. Each shafting
sent tremors of fear through Jill, mingled with ever increasing, unwanted
pleasure. She knew how tight she was and how big he was and the math
was not hard for her to calculate. What happens, she found herself asking
quite involunarily, when a bulging pair of balls has a big penis set atop it
that rams itself up into a girlÕs small cunny who hasnÕt taken her pill?
And the answer she could almost feel in her scared hollowing tummy under
her ribs that would swell with each passing day if he came.
ÒOh, I have to pee!Ó Jill begged. Suddenly, with him in her, her
tummy swirled and remembered the tea sheÕd drunk. ÒLet me down or IÕll
pee!Ó she begged. But Rob was merciless and ignored her and assumed she
was making a story up to get him out of her.
Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, even for Jill, she peed right on him as
he shafted her. Angela and Beth watched fascinated as little Jill, still
begging Rob not to cum in her, released a stream of pee on him. It was
soon too much for Rob, once he realized what was happeing, that the little
minx was wetting him, and he shot off a thunderous canonade of sperm
into her belly. Hefting her high, he rammed her up and down on himself
ever more vigorously. Jill felt like an infant being killed by its parents as
she was shaken up and down on RobÕs fast-moving, hard-driving cock. Up
and down and up and down and up and down she was shaken, all the while
he now spurting into her even as she wetted his loins with her pee.
ÒAghghgh!Ó a male voice shouted. But it was not Rob. To the utter
surprise of Angela and Beth, whoÕd momentarily forgotten him, though
Angela still reamed him lightly with the candy cane, Dave exploded. As
Angela and Beth, suddenly worried at having both men spend themselves,
tried desperately to somehow stop the spurting fountain of DaveÕs sperm,
he splattered their tummies and his own with his spunk.
ÒAh well, cie la vie,Ó Angela smiled at Beth when they both realized
their hopes were lost, or at least momentarily delayed. They soulfully
rubbed their bare tummies with their hands, trying at least to massage a
little of DaveÕs sperm into their bellies. Jill, meanwhile, was quite fully
sated, much more than she wished. RobÕs sperm bubbled from her well-
shafted cunt and ran down the insides of her thighs. She looked down
beneath her feet and saw a spreading puddle of white in a larger puddle of
her pee. Gently, his pleasure done at last, Rob set her high-heeled feet
down into the puddle. Then he gave her a playful slap on her bare-naked
ass and sauntered away, leaving her bird-like trapped in the gear belt with
the winged cuffs round her elbows.
ÒOh help me, IÕm pregnant,Ó Jill sighed. Her eyes were wide and her
mouth lisped open, then hung there, with her tongue drooling a little down
her chin.
ÒPoor dear. I guess sheÕs gotten to know my husband rather well,Ó
Beth smiled.
ÒYes, and she greedily got everything weÕd been hoping for,Ó Angela
said. ÒWeÕll have to stand her in the corner for that!Ó
30
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