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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                       PRIVATE PLACES

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                                         Chapter Eight

         I lay by the pool.  It was early morning.  We were not at the condo 
pool, but at a private pool behind the house of a close friend of SamÕs.  He 
had brought us there to recover from our bridal night.  He sat inside, 
eating breakfast with his friend and watching ESPN with him on T.V.  Jill 
and I lay in the warm morning sunshine, on soft towels spread over chaise 
lounges.  We had bikini tops on, but our bottoms were naked.  We could not 
bear to wear panties.  I felt the rising sun upon my bottom.  It was red-
striped and bruised from my visit to the whipping bench.  My cunt felt 
thoroughly violated, as did my bottomhole, though only Sam had fucked me 
up the rear.
         ÒOooh, mine still hurts so,Ó Jill confided in me, sleepily.  We both 
were exhausted from our long night together.  
         ÒI hurt all over,Ó I replied, though in truth most of it was confined 
to my loins.
         ÒWeÕre pregnant now, you know, though by God knows whom,Ó Jill 
said.  Her tushy trembled.  I felt my back shiver.
         ÒI know,Ó I answered.
         ÒDo you want to give birth?Ó she asked.
         ÒI donÕt think so.Ó
         ÒMe neither.Ó
         ÒWell, look at these two babes,Ó Sam announced, stepping outside.  
Despite his night of exertion, his cock stood up stiffly, ready to go again.  
He walked over to us, his friend accompanying him.  Out of deference to 
Sam the man kept his own swimsuit on, though I saw it bulging mightily in 
the crotch.  We were SamÕs women, not his.  I guessed, though, he expected 
to be given permission to fuck us later, after weÕd recovered a little more 
from our ordeal.  Why else would he have allowed us to be brought here?  
There must be a quid pro quo, and Jill and I were obviously it.
         ÒSam, that was awful!Ó Jill said frankly, though she huddled down in 
her her towel as she said it, clutching the ends of it with her hands, as if 
still somehow on the whipping bench, certain to suffer an immediate 
reprisal.  My towel smelled sweet and fresh, like daisies.  IÕd been bathed 
along with Jill in a bathtub a few minutes earlier, then told to go out and 
lie down by the pool.  Jill and I had donned bikini tops, just to preserve our 
modesty.  I could feel sleep filling me as I felt the sun rise.  Despite the 
dawning of a new day, I knew I didnÕt have much strength left after my 
long night to stay awake.  Neither, I guessed, did Jill.  Yet, standing over 
me now, leering down at me, was SamÕs friend Max, his erection politely 
hidden for the moment, but sure to spring out at the first sign of 
permission.
         ÒGirls, I want you to keep Max happy while IÕm gone for a few days,Ó 
Sam said.  ÒIÕll be back when your bottoms have healed.  Meantime, Sam 
here enjoys helping wounded girls recover.  HeÕs studying to be a doctor, 
and heÕs promised to do all he can to ease your pain and help you get back 
on your feet.Ó  He turned to Max.  ÒThough, I daresay, seeing them waddle 
out to these chairs a few moments ago I think they may already be well on 
the way back to health, Max, and may need to be fucked more than anything 
else.  Once, that is, their cunts can take it.  This is their honeymoon, you 
know.  DonÕt disappoint them.Ó
         ÒSam, what are you saying?!Ó Jill asked.  She propped herself up on 
one arm, wincing as the movement flexed her asscheeks.
         ÒIÕm saying that this is your honeymoon, you are both newlyweds, 
and IÕve been called away,Ó Sam replied.  He grinned.  I guessed he had met 
some female or other and found he had an opportunity to fuck her for the 
next few days, perhaps while her husband was out of town.  Or maybe he 
just had some new test for us to endure, to satisfy his increasingly 
wicked sense of fun.  ÒMax here is an experienced sadist.  He will help you 
recover and then give you both new things to do.  I expect you both to be 
shipshape when I return, and to report to me everything new that youÕve 
learned, all the new skills and techniques.  For myself, to be honest, IÕve 
met two older women at the party last night, who insist I donÕt know the 
first thing about being a groom.  So they will help me, and Max here has 
been selected by them to help you.  ItÕs a fair arrangement, in my opinion, 
and the women convinced me it was necessary.  So if you find yourself 
being assigned some duty that seems unpleasant, donÕt feel bad, the 
women promised to make me learn some new tricks too.  I wanted to 
include you, but they said it must just be me, all by myself, and them.  So 
it will be two of you with Max, learning and being trained, while I undergo 
whatever the women have in store for me.  Sorry, girls, but I couldnÕt 
resist.  I wasnÕt about to leave you two by yourselves at our condo.  You 
belong to me, after all.  So IÕm ÔdisposingÕ of you, as it were, while I enjoy 
groom-training at the hands of the women.Ó  He turned around then, and 
walked away, tall and sure of himself, challenged, I guess, by the idea of 
taking on the two women.  He would go alone to them, and they and he 
would see which was master of the other.  I realized it was nothing a 
young girl like myself or a newlywed like Jill could provide him with.  
And, no doubt, the women were married, I guessed, so time was of the 
essence, before their husbands returned from whatever had taken them 
away, leaving their wives to find entertainments for themselves.  
         ÒSam, donÕt go,Ó Jill begged, but her voice was soft, not loud, as if 
she knew no male could resist such a sexual challenge.
         ÒYou will be challenged as well, my dear,Ó Max answered, and, 
looking up at him, seeing his mustache and his crewcut and his gleaming 
eyes, I knew we would indeed be challenged, and I dreaded the thought of 
it.
         As soon as the sun grew hot Max took us inside.  He said it was bad 
for us to tan our wounded bottoms.  He watched us as we walked, our legs 
akimbo, our cunnies still hurting from being raped upon the bridal bed.  He 
showed us the greatest deference.  He placed us in a bed upstairs, tying 
our wrists lightly so that we might not escape, binding them above our 
heads to the bedÕs headboard.  Then he gave us each a sleeping pill, to ease 
our pain, and off we both went to dreamland.  The last thing I felt as I fell 
asleep was his hand lightly caressing me between my carelessly spread 
legs.  I was too weak to close them.  He tickled me lightly, not intrusively, 
upon my cunny.  His very sweetness scared me, for I knew the greatest 
sadists prepared their victims with gratuitous kindnesses, savoring their 
bodies even as they planned to destroy them.
         Three days passed.  Our bottoms recovered more quickly than IÕd 
imagined possible.  Our host let us have the run of his house.  Jill and I 
both understood that we were not permitted to leave, and we didnÕt try to, 
knowing that it would be worse for us if we did, especially when Sam 
returned.  Our host shared meals with us, serving us our food, insisting on 
being our slave.  Just looking at his powerful, muscled body, though, I 
knew he didnÕt plan to remain our servant forever.  He was toying with us.  
I could see it in his eyes.  He was encouraging us to be bratty, so he could 
punish us.  Instead Jill and I were both on our best behavior.  We prayed 
Sam would return, find us well-behaved, and take us home, yet the days 
passed and he did not come back.  
         I think we gradually became entranced by our captor.  He was very 
handsome, and he had a way of looking at us that sent shivers down our 
spines, even as he behaved with textbook chivalry toward us, like Lancelot 
courting Guinevere.  Two Guineveres, in this case.  His property was a low, 
single-story house, but with a basement we were not permitted to enter.  
He kept it locked at all times.  Surreptitiously Jill and I searched for the 
key in his drawers, but we could not find it.  Trees bunched close to his 
house, shrouding all but his pool in deep shade throughout much of the day.  
IÕd been too worn out to watch the scenery pass as IÕd been brought here on 
the fateful morning three days earlier, but I sensed the nearest sign of 
civilization was some distance away, a few miles maybe, or more.  A high 
wall surrounded his house, and it was topped with barbed wire.  He 
insisted it was to keep out thieves, but Jill and I knew better.  
         Songbirds flitted amongst the branches of the trees, giving the 
whole place a quiet, tranquil air, putting Jill and I at our ease, even as we 
wracked our minds trying to figure out what ultimately would happen to 
us here.  All the while our captor kept feeding us, brining us fine wines, 
dressing us in new bikinis every morning, burning our old ones at night in 
the fireplace after weÕd gone to bed.  Our wrists were tied to the 
headboard each night, not too tight, and we were given pills to ensure weÕd 
sleep.  The moon would pass by our window as we lay there, and weÕd 
awake refreshed in the morning, moon-kissed, ready for a day of 
swimming in the pool and aimless hours of relaxation.
         Breakfast of the fourth day Jill confronted our host.  She and I wore 
the fresh bikinis heÕd laid out for us, flimsy little things, barely kept on 
by picturesque bows that hugged us low on our hips.
         ÒYouÕre very nice, sir,Ó Jill said, poking a finger into his bare chest.  
He wore shorts, nothing else, an erection perpetually brimming in his 
pants.  ÒBut Sam said youÕre a sadist, and youÕve yet to prove it, though I 
can see just by your eyes that girls like me and Flurry here have regretted 
knowing you.Ó
         I trembled a little, standing beside Jill in my wee bikini.  WeÕd 
played mind games with this man for three whole days, dreading with each 
passing hour that this would be the hour he pounced on us.  Now we could 
stand it no longer.  (Though, as I stood beside Jill, I thought perhaps I 
might have stood his mental torment just a little longer, for his cock 
stuck up ever more profoundly in his shorts and his eyes took on a mad, 
crazy look, as if some deep urgent need had just been liberated in his 
soul.)
         Max flexed his arms.  He had tremendous muscles.  His chest heaved 
once, then relaxed.  His stomach rippled.  
         Jill and I both had developed nice tans from playing in the pool.  Only 
our breasts and bottoms and privates remained white, shielded from the 
sun by our bikinis, specially selected each morning by him, worn by us 
with, I must confess, a sense of pride, for they were hand-sewn in Italy, 
and specially imported by him, he said, just for girls like us, his guests.
         Max turned and ordered us to follow him.  We dared not disobey.  He 
could have broken either of us with a simple flexing of his massive arms.  
I dreaded the thought of having him wield a whip over me.  Yet I followed, 
wiggling a little impatiently.  Curiosity killed the cat, and I guessed it 
was about to do me in too.  
         He led us into the living room.  A small fire had been prepared in the 
fireplace.  ÒTake off your bikinis yourselves and toss them in,Ó he said, 
challenging us.  Jill and I looked at each other.  Finally Jill touched the 
fabric of her bra, reached behind herself, sticking out her boobies at him, 
and undid her top.  That at least she could get away with, I figured.  She 
freed her breasts and took pride in seeing how MaxÕs eyes glowed at having 
her topless before him.  What wicked thoughts did her naked breasts 
inspire in him?  I touched my own bra with quavering fingers.  JillÕs 
nipples were attentive, poking themselves right at Max, urging him to be 
bad.  She tossed her bra into the fire and we all stood there and watched 
the flames as they quickly consumed it.  Then she stepped behind me and, 
without my permission, undid my own top.  Misery loves company, I guess.  
I could not stop her.  My knees were practically knocking together from the 
awful suspense that filled the room.  She tossed my bra into the fire 
beside the ashes of hers and we all stared at it as it burned, even Max, 
who seemed intrigued by the destruction of my little brassiere.
         Jill ran a finger along the top of her panties.  Lightly she fondled the 
drawstrings a moment, and then gracefully undid them.  She pitched her 
frail garment straight into the fire.  I played with my own drawstrings a 
moment, and then untied them myself.  I did not want to be showed up as a 
coward.  Bravely I turned to the fire and, biting my lip, I tossed my panties 
irretrievably into the hissing coals.  I watched my undies disappear into 
ashes upon them.
         Boldly we faced Max.  Our twin pairs of boobs bobbed sensuously 
before his eyes.  Naughtily we thrust our hips at him, letting him admire 
our well-furred nests.  Jill did not put her hands on her hips, but I thought 
she might have, so directly did she stare at Max, daring him to do his 
worst to her.  Max pulled down his trunks, letting us see his cock for the 
first time.  It stuck up lewdly, springing into action as he yanked down his 
pants.  Jill and I both gasped at its monstrous length and its imposing 
width.  He might be a sadist, but he had a cock to die for!  I fidgeted, 
watching it, and Sam saw my eager apprehension and smiled at me as he 
turned as threw his shorts into the fire.  
         ÒYou will both do well, I think,Ó Sam told us.  ÒI like girls who are 
able to face whatÕs ahead of them.Ó  With that he took us each by the hand, 
and led us to the cellar door.  From a tiny slot in the wall he removed a 
hidden key.  He unlocked the door, replaced the key, and ushered us inside.
         I lifted my fingertips into the hushed darkness, feeling for anything 
that might tell me where I was.  A moment later Max flicked on the lights.  
I saw I was at the top of a wooden staircase.  Below me I could see only 
the steps, and a little to either side.  Like a child wading into a pool, 
frightened of the water, I descended the stairs on tiptoe.  Jill followed.  
We were truly courageous, I thought, bravely leading the way down into 
this forboding, hushed place, wearing nothing at all to protect us, armed 
only with our beauty.  Would Max love us enough not to hurt us?  He 
followed, naked as us, we being two against his one, yet he was so huge I 
knew Jill and I were utterly at his mercy.  I felt my sleek sunbrowned legs 
timidly take each downward step beneath me.  Why did they not stop?  You 
could see the whiteness at my hips where my bikini was supposed to be, 
yet IÕd taken it off and tossed it away.  My boobies, so freshly grown and 
beautiful, jiggled their sensitive tips between my tummy and chin.
         JillÕs hand brushed my bottom.  Was it an accident?  Did she like my 
ass?  I dared not turn my head and look back at her.  The stair had no 
railing.  There was nothing to hang onto.  All my concentration had to be on 
keeping myself from falling, yet wasnÕt I falling even as I walked, would I 
not be a fallen woman coming down here, or at least a fallen child?
         I felt JillÕs breath on my shoulder and knew she must be in the same 
predicament.  She feared tumbling down the stairs.  Max came after her, no 
doubt entranced by her nervously waggling hips, her womanÕs hips, bared 
like a brideÕs must be for the wedding night festivities.  
         My breath caught in my throat as I descended the last few steps.  
Here, in this simple suburban cellar, Max had created a separate world.  
The stone on the walls was old.  Had he imported it specially, or built the 
house over this place?  The floor was carpeted, I realized, stepping down 
onto it with my bare feet.  Its warmth comforted me as I stood shivering 
in the half-cold of the dungeon, its temperature somewhere between 
midnight and dawn, never warming to the heat of midday, always staying a 
recessed, quiet place, where the skin might be cooled down for warming 
with wicked things, things that might warm certain portions of the body 
only, leaving the rest chilly and unloved, unhurt.  I reached behind myself 
and let my hands hug the plump 13-year-old cheeks of my bottom.  Feeling 
the carpet beneath me, I realized it was not for my comfort, or any girlÕs, 
but only for MaxÕs.  He would rule us here, and we would suffer and be 
discomforted.  In the dungeon I saw old, wretched equipment, from the 
days of the inquisition, imported, I guessed, from Spain, to break the 
Indians of their innocent beliefs in spirits and ghosts and make them 
baptised members of GodÕs Holy Church.  There was a guillotine, with a 
special bench for the victim to lie on, its rearward portion upraised so 
they might be sodomized even as they waited for the gleaming blade above 
to descend.  There was an indoor scaffold, its noose dangling down, with 
straps along its base where the girl might have her legs spread apart, 
displaying her sex to her captor as he prepared her for her doom.  Looking 
close, mesmerized, I saw the ankle straps would skitter downward along 
the upright posts of the scaffolding when the noose was dropped, leaving 
the poor girl bitterly wide open and available even as she felt the noose 
grip and break her pretty neck.  Had girls struggled there, I wondered, 
feeling their lights go out even as men savored their split-apart legs, 
their little sex hungry in death, from loveless nights spent here in the 
dungeon?  Next to the brutal scaffolding I saw a smooth, clean feather 
duster.  It was a truly perverse sight, and I wanted to tear my eyes away, 
yet I could not!  To torment a girlÕs clit even as she waited to die, to 
watch her squirm in frustration, her ankles hopelessly bound, her cunny 
implacably spread for her captorÕs amusement.  Her slim swanlike neck 
roped off from the rest of her, her head twisting above the noose, 
pleading.  Were spoilt white girls brought here too, I wondered, in days 
gone by, girls whoÕd slept with other men or eaten apples their parents 
disapproved of?
         Nearby there was a stocks, a timber frame with holes not for the 
wrists, or the head, but for (I feared) the breasts.  I saw I might be made 
to stand before it with the holes just at the height of my breasts.  They 
could be put between the two halves of wood and then the wood brought 
together, sliding down in grooves, until it squeezed and distorted the 
breasts as much as the girlÕs captor might wish.  And the stocks could be 
raised or lowered, to accommodate Jill perhaps, or some other girl.  
Hanging from the stocks, on a little peg, was a pair of nipple clamps.  Jill 
touched my back.  Her finger found my spine, ran down it.  I felt her blonde 
hair fall upon my shoulder.  I reached back, found her hand with mine, 
squeezed it.  We were crazy, standing there, feeling our cunts moisten, our 
nipples so hard they hurt, looking wide-eyed at such horrid things!  
Nearest to us, beneath a wall filled with whips and straps and tawses, 
was a small table for our masterÕs pleasure.  It held tubes of fresh 
lubricant, and condoms in a pretty flower vase.  I saw nothing for my 
comfort, or JillÕs.  Just the necessities a man would wish for himself, as 
he worked his organ in and out of the pretty captives in his possession.  He 
would be protected, right down to the latex sheath on his penis, yet the 
girls would be utterly at his mercy.
         ÒMax, please take us upstairs!Ó Jill blurted.  Her finger dimpled my 
bottom even as she echoed my own fear.  Max did not touch us.  He merely 
stood, still on the last step, towering over us, like a troll guarding a 
bridge over which we had too hastily crossed.
         ÒJill, is it not your honeymoon?Ó Max asked her.  His voice was low 
and growling.
         ÒYes!Ó she answered.  ÒWell, Flurry and mine, with Sam!  But he is 
not here!Ó
         Max laughed.  ÒAll you see before you is not old.  Sam is watching 
you, through hidden cameras IÕve rigged up.  Even as he dallies with his 
lady friends, or does their bidding, suffering perhaps, or not, as they 
choose, his cock tested hour after hour with new challenges, new tortures 
(I cannot say, it is their choice what to do with him), he watches you.  He 
has left you here to be trained, both of you, and he is watching.  You must 
obey, to please him, or to let him know you suffer even as he suffers.Ó
         I squeezed JillÕs hand more tightly.  I scanned the walls, the ceiling, 
for cameras.  I could not see any.  They make them so small these days, 
some as tiny as the tip of a pencil.  They could be anywhere, even in the 
torture machines themselves, perhaps ideally poised to zoom in on my 
butthole as Max did some awful deed to me.  I felt Jill exhale hard, as if 
trying to summon up her strength for Sam.  He had done this.  He had 
brought her here, and he would reclaim her one day, I was sure.  We would 
not die here.  We were just to explore new things, albeit with a difficult 
taskmaster to keep us on the straight and narrow.
         Were we being watched?  Were there women sitting someplace even 
now, sipping tea, entertaining guests, perhaps, as we prepared to delve 
into the dungeonÕs secrets, offering up our own in exchange?  Would they 
sit and laugh and observe us, see our every twitch, our every imprecation?
         I stepped up to the last remaining barrier between us and the 
dungeon.  It was a simple steel gate, waist high, with a latch holding it to 
the twin posts that kept it erect.  Beyond this gate, incongruously set 
between posts next to the stairs, lay the awfulness of the dungeon.  The 
wall of this room was to my right, the stairs to my left.  Behind me, Jill 
waited, letting me go first, a section of wall beyond her, cutting us off 
from whatever lay behind it.  I peered into the gloom.  The nights did not 
show us everything the dungeon held, only the nearer things.  Did beasts 
lie chained in its deepest depths?  Were there machines of impossible 
nightmares lurking in its unlit shadows?  With a click I lifted the latch.  
It was worn, as if many girls had lifted it up before me, intruding into 
these uncharted depths of doom.  Jill caught my elbow.  She held it a 
moment, tensely.  Then, I having lifted the latch, holding it up, she made 
the decision to push my arm forward, by my elbow, opening the gate for 
the both of us.  We tiptoed within.  Max descended the last step on the 
stairs and followed us.  He shut the gate behind us and I saw him use the 
same key heÕd unlocked the cellar door with to imprison us behind the 
gate.  Once it was locked, just as the door above must now be, I saw he 
reached to the wall and opened a small door.  There, set in the ancient 
stone, a small lockbox had been secreted.  There was a number pad, and 
Max touched the numbers in a sequence known only to him.  A compartment 
opened.  He put the key inside.  He shut up the box.  We were truly trapped 
now.  I scanned about, looking for a weapon.  Except for dildoes and straps, 
neatly hung up on the wall, I saw none.  Could I fight this man barehanded?  
I looked at him, judged him.  He was as muscular as Atlas.  His cock stuck 
out boldly, unafraid.  His nuts hung below, obscenely full and bulging.  I 
think kicking my toes up into his nuts wouldnÕt have helped at all.  He was 
simply too powerful, even in his loins.  He would probably just laugh at 
me, and then make me pay.
         With a sudden loss of all my resolve I stood with a sudden meekness.  
I felt the same realization wash over Jill.  We were trapped down here 
with this man, knowing only his first name, nothing else.  We would be at 
his mercy, and there was no escaping it.  Two young girls like ourselves 
would be no match for him, however much we might have been 
ÔempoweredÕ at self-esteem classes in school.  He would rule, and we 
would be his little subjects.  I felt a thrill somewhere deep in my womb, 
running up my spine even, as I realized the utter subjugation of myself to 
this man with his big loins and chest, his powerful back and arms and (I 
knew) his iron will.  We stood before him with new confidence, Jill and I.  
He did not take just any girls down here, I realized.  He had his pick of 
girls in the world.  For him to take this kind of time, show this kind of 
concern, loving us for days, serving us, before bringing us down here, 
showed he had a special appreciation for us.  Yet I had no doubt that once 
Sam reclaimed us other girls would stand right here in our place, testing 
their own feelings, and being loved and raped by him in turn.  
         Yes, there was no denying him.  His testicles brimmed with his 
sperm, his cock stood up like a roosterÕs, its largeness greater than any 
manÕs IÕd seen before, and he was clearly sexually excited.  He would not 
wish to leave here with blue balls.  He eyed us closely.  He picked up 
something IÕd mistaken for lubricant from the nightstand.  It was, in fact, 
a squeeze-bottle of honey.
         ÒWelcome to the dungeon,Ó Max said, and squirted JillÕs pussy with 
honey, then mine.  We laughed.  There was nothing else to do.  Jill and I 
stood laughing at ourselves, staring down at our nests with the honey 
squirted into them.  Would we taste as sweet soon, naturally, from our 
own excitement?  I reached out and took the honey bottle from Max.  FairÕs 
fair, I thought, and squirted him up and down on his big cock.  He let me, 
did not stop me, savored the honey as it spurted out onto his stiff organ.  
When IÕd ceased Jill pushed her hair back from her face and bent over and 
nibbled the honeyed tip of his penis.  She looked elegant, standing there, 
not wanting to get goo in her lovely hair, keeping it back from her mouth 
and face as she gobbled more and more of MaxÕs prick.  He trembled.  She 
bobbed her head upon him, knelt finally, and choked herself as she tried to 
take as much as she could of him into her mouth.
         ÒStand up,Ó Max whispered.  Jill realized she had failed to deep 
throat him, and knew not how to pull it off.  She rose.  She licked her lips 
and then bit her lower lip apprehensively.  ÒYou must be trained,Ó Max said 
simply.  He opened a drawer in the nightstand and took out sets of wrist 
and ankle straps for both of us.  He handed them to Jill, to me.  ÒPut them 
on.  It will make it easier for me to bind you for your workout.Ó
         ÒOur workout?Ó Jill laughed.  It was a nervous laugh.  I felt 
butterflies in my tummy.
         ÒDid you take P.E. in school?Ó Max asked.
         ÒOf-of course,Ó Jill answered.  ÒSoccer, baseball, dancing...Ó
         ÒBaton twirling,Ó I offered.
         ÒYes, they exercised your arms and legs, but what about your sexual 
parts?Ó Max grinned.  ÒWell, as new young wives we must finally have you 
experience the exertions that really matter.  Put on the straps.  Your 
husband is watching.  Let him see you go willingly.  There are ways to help 
the unwilling along,Ó he added, with a glance at the wallfull of whips.
         Trembling, I helped Jill into her wriststraps, and she into mine.  
Then we both bent over and put on our anklestraps.  When we stood up 
again, Max had twin collars dangling from his hands.  Jill took mine and 
buckled me into it.  I did the same for her.  They were simple dog collars, 
nothing fancy.  When I returned my eyes to Max I saw he wanted me to put 
my hands behind myself.  I did.  I could feel that a quick snap of my 
wriststraps would make me cuffed in my own bonds.  Jill stood with her 
own arms placed as mine were.  Sam walked behind us.  With a quick 
closing of my wrists he made me utterly captive.  JillÕs wrists were bound 
together just as easily.  
         Max stepped back in front of us, tracing a finger over our bottoms 
before he went.
         ÒWell, sir, now that you have us, what are you going to do with us?Ó 
Jill asked him.  Her stance was bold, her legs apart, her bush pushed 
forward.  She tossed her head, like a horse at pasture, regarding a boy who 
longed to break it.  I tried to emulate JillÕs courage.  I stuck my pussy 
forward, heedless of the danger.  I felt my breasts rise and fall and rise 
again as I tried to stare Max down.
         ÒYou girls are born without penises, yet your most important goal in 
life must be to accommodate yourself to the male penis, to learn to accept 
it as a part of yourself,Ó Max said.  ÒAs girls, you are taught to fear men 
and their penises, which is too bad, really, for men will not have their 
cocks denied.  Would you both live to be old maids?  I think not.  So let us 
begin, then, helping both of you.Ó  He led us with this flowery speech 
deeper into the dungeon.  Flicking on a little lamp, he showed us a table 
with gags laid out upon it.  I saw Jill and I would be helped, whether we 
wished it or not, in learning to suck cock, for there were all sizes of 
penises laid upon the table, each one able to fit into a gag that would be 
worn in a girlÕs mouth.  ÒWould you like to start small,Ó Max asked, Òor 
attempt something big?Ó
         Jill gulped.  She scanned the assortment of rubber cocks.  I saw her 
bottom cheeks twitching as she contemplated them, her boobs rising and 
falling softly.  ÒSomething big,Ó she said finally.  
         ÒJill!Ó I protested.  She should not push herself too far.  Especially if 
it meant I would be fitted with one the same size as hers!  Suavely Max 
took up a gag, and asked Jill politely to open her mouth.  She obeyed, 
obviously scared, yet parting her lips, not resisting.  He eased her teeth 
more widely apart, then inserted the gag.  She coughed.  He bound it behind 
her, in the nest of her lovely, tumbling hair.  Were the women watching?  
Were they laughing at her fright?  
         There was a slit in the middle of JillÕs gag.  She tried to close her 
teeth over it, but Sam opened them.  He picked up a large rubber dildo, not 
one as big as his cock, thankfully, and stuffed it into the slit in JillÕs gag.  
She revolted a moment, bucking her head, twisting away, but he shoved it 
forward until she had all of it worked into her mouth.  It must have 
rammed against the back of her throat, and I dreaded having to take one 
just as big.  Max attached the dildo with snaps to the gag so that it would 
remain in place.  
         Jill turned her head, looked at me, free of MaxÕs hands at last, 
looking ridiculous, like a harnessed horse, except a horse did not have to 
suffer a cock in its mouth.  She tossed her long hair.  She was truly 
ÔbittedÕ now, no doubt about it, gagged, with her wrists bound behind her.  
Her hair fell into her eyes and she flicked her head again, but some 
remained still.  Her tits wiggled freely.  Max grinned at them, plotting, I 
feared, to put clamps on them.
         ÒPrance about,Ó Max ordered.  ÒLet your husband see what a fine 
young filly you are.Ó  Jill lifted her knees high and marched herself around 
Max twice, glancing at him nervously, fearful to disobey yet not really, I 
think, wanting to play horsey before the hidden camera with its unknown 
viewers.  When she stopped, panting, her breath muffled by her thick gag, 
Max turned to me.
         ÒYou must attempt one the same size,Ó Max told me, letting his hand 
pass over the cocks so neatly arranged on the table.  ÒThough, you are 
somewhat smaller, so a proportionally smaller cock will be okay...Ó  He 
found one my size and picked it up.  I opened my mouth.  I felt like I was at 
the dentist.  (And how I would have preferred it, even to get a cavity 
filled!)  Max pushed the cockhead within my parted lips, pressing them 
wider apart, filling me with the awful penis shaped gag.  Then he lifted a 
strip of leather, put it over the base of the penis, snapped the two 
together, and tied the whole thing up behind my neck.  I turned my head to 
face Jill.  She stood watching me.  We were twin horses now.  We could 
neither speak, nor resist, our master.
         ÒForgive me, girls, but since you have taken up an equestrian 
lifestyle, I must ensure your compliance with the appropriate 
instrument,Ó our new master grinned.  Reaching into the shadows, he drew 
forth a little pony whip.  It had a short, stout handle, almost too small for 
his big palm.  He gripped it with a sense of humor, as if he were an older 
boy taking hold of his younger brotherÕs toy.  The lash itself was 
capriciously thin.  However, being so short, I thought it could not hurt me 
too much.  Salaciously I waggled my bottom for him.  Standing there bare-
legged, I wanted to be struck on my seat with it, and I think Jill did too.  
How terrible it is to be a girl, you must think, reading this, wanting to be 
dominated and whipped and fucked, despite spending hours putting on 
makeup, or polishing our nails, or thinking about how to be ever so 
perfectly beautiful.  I cannot explain it.  But when I felt that slim lash 
burn into my bottom I leapt forward, shrieking a little, as if in protest, 
and it hurt too, it did, I did not want it, yet as I felt my boobies spring up 
and down beneath me, my small feet flying forward to avoid the lash, I 
felt female entire, as if IÕd at last arrived at some blissful state, with a 
man who would make me into a true woman.
         Jill skipped forward with me, both of us receiving anew the pony 
lash upon our bottoms.  It whistled and struck into our quivering seats 
again and again.  Max drove us deeper into the dungeon.  I dreaded going 
deeper, for I knew at the very end of the dungeon, like Lucifer in Hell, 
must lie its most awful secrets.  Amidst the ever deepening gloom, far 
now from the lights which lit the dungeon entrance, machines of 
inexplicable horror loomed up at me.  I could not tell their purpose.  
Somehow Max (or somebody) had found them and gathered them here, 
polished them up, and rebuilt them.  Each had probably originally been 
made by the Catholic Church, I guessed.  Their aim had been to break 
sinners, cut off their limbs or put them to death if they resisted.  Now, I 
supposed, theyÕd wickedly been converted into items of fertility, or 
pseudo-fertility.  Now they stood for the purpose of breaking a girl in to 
sex.  Young wives, little girls, it mattered not, I imagined, to Max.  Even 
older women, if theyÕd become too frigid for their husbands, too Hillary-
like in their presumptiveness, might be brought here and retrained into 
obedience to the male penis.  They would leave humble and subservient.  
All my feminist training in school made me want to rebel against such 
male-dominating devices.  And yet, in a way, my training drew me in 
closer, made me ever more curious.  With my nipples springing up on my 
bosoms, hard and desiring, with my belly so soft and slimly adhering to my 
hips, longing to be swollen with male seed, with the awkwardness of my 
youthful hips and the sassy swell of my girlish seat, I wished to explore, 
and to be explored upon those terrible phallus-like machines.  Jill too 
looked quickly from side to side, in awe at the cave into which we were 
being driven, and its contents.  Like mushrooms growing on the forest 
floor, the place seemed over-stocked with dildoes.  Big ones, smaller 
ones, ones with nubs down their sides, circus-like, to be twisted inside 
some female so she might become acrobatic in her bonds.  
         At last, coming round, I think, to the wall that fronted the stairs, we 
were in the most secretive part of the basement.  There I saw a small 
lamp.  It stood on a nightstand that held a vase of fresh flowers.  A nice 
touch, in such a forbidding area of the dungeon.  Had Max prepared it for 
us?  He must have.  
         Max ceased his flailing upon our shivering, whip-stung heinies.  Jill 
and I stood squeezing our cheeks, trying to rid our bottoms of the pain that 
enflamed them in insidious little stripes.  My ass felt like a road map, 
each road delicately carved into my flesh with the awful kissing of the 
whip.  Jill tossed her head backward, stood churning her ass and clamping 
her cheeks together.  I drew mine it too, but not just from the whip.  For it 
was then that I guessed the purpose of the two settees laid out before us.  
Upon each pillows had been placed and plumped, about mid-way down.  I 
saw straps affixed to each sofa, and they seemed specially strong, as if a 
girl were sure to buck and struggle here with all her might.  I wished to 
turn, to run, but Max loomed up behind me, watching my bottom with 
fascinating and just barely containing, I think, his urge to flay us both 
alive right then and there, whacking us perhaps with his hand, slamming 
his palm into our asses again and again until we were no more.
         I felt a poke in my seat.  I turned my head, my eyes frightened.  It 
was MaxÕs cock.  He had not intended to jab me right between the cheeks of 
my bottom, I guessed, but was simply too big to avoid it.  The dungeon was 
a little cramped here.  He eased himself around me, watching myself and 
Jill all the while, ready to spring at us if we made any attempt to run 
away.
         In the light of the small table lamp I saw two dildoes.  IÕd ignored 
them at first.  They were much too big to be anything but a joke, werenÕt 
they?  Max took them now in his hands and lifted them up.  Each one put 
the handle of the pony whip to shame although, comparing them to MaxÕs 
penis, I think there might have been a fair contest between them in size.
         ÒYou girls are reported to both be inadequately receptive in your 
behinds,Ó he said, his voice a low, controlled snarl that sent chills of 
wonder down me.  What did he intend to do?  Could I take it?  Did I want 
to?  Jill seemed to thrust out her bare bosoms as if to say, ÔShe, the little 
girl, cannot take hers, but I can take mine.Õ  Well, we would just see about 
that!
         Max turned the dildoes in the lamplight, opened a jar of vaseline and 
dipped each one in, lovingly, as if knowing where theyÕd be soon, and how 
remarkably theyÕd impress themselves upon their victims.  ÒYes,Ó he said.  
ÒYou will both be strapped down here, on these couches, and given these 
gifts up your ass.  Sam purchased them for you, and others besides, bigger 
still, to be worn by you here each day.  For a period each day I will bring 
you both down here and I will insert ever-larger dildoes into each of your 
assholes.  Why, you ask?  I know you must be asking it of me, even though 
you cannot speak.  When you are at last done with me, you will be taken to 
a party.  Men will be there, and it will just be you two, and you will have 
to serve them.  You will not want to be too narrow in back then.  Mistress 
Lalique has arranged for you to both entertain young men fresh from boot 
camp on the army base.  They will be lusty, and they will want to fuck you 
in your asses, because in army training they must submit themselves in 
such manner to show their utter obedience to their sergeant and their 
nation.  Naturally, such submissiveness is repulsive to normal young men, 
and they will want to expiate their fears and their misgivings at their 
own masculinity by pounding you both in your bottoms.  Besides which, 
being locked up in boot camp, theyÕll be lusty as hell, as IÕm sure you both 
can imagine.Ó  He grinned.  ÒSo you see, girls, it does have a purpose, this 
idea of having you lie over these couches and train yourselves to take big, 
large, manly dildoes up your little bottoms.  I know there are fat girls in 
college who would love to be imprisoned with young army studs for the 
weekend, and made to serve them.  Naturally, of course, such girls are 
never invited.  But you are, and you will serve these men, because Mistress 
Lalique has planned it this way, and promised Sam compensation for your 
services.Ó  He laughed.  ÒYes, dear Jill, you will not have to live in your 
sweet little lovenest condo anymore.  You and Sam will be moving up to a 
proper house, in a proper neighborhood, where you will take on the real 
duties of a real wife and begin bearing children for Sam.  Your young 
married days of bliss are over.  Now you will actually be his wife.  But you 
will have a big house, with a big lawn, and servants.  Robert Redford might 
pay a million dollars for a quick lay with another manÕs wife, but Mistress 
Lalique requires a bit more for her money.  But when it is over you will 
have a fine new life for yourself, and you will quit your job, of course, for 
it is not fit for a woman of your stature, living where you will live, to 
work for a living.Ó  I turned to look at Jill.  There were tears in her eyes.  
She wanted what Max offered (who wouldnÕt?) but she was sad to bid 
goodbye to her previous life.  She liked her little condo.  Now she would 
have her own private pool, but it was fun sometimes to talk with the other 
couples just like her at the condo, or the older folks, winding down after 
raising children, or the young mothers burdened with too many kids, all of 
them racing around the pool and causing as much trouble as they could.  
Yet who would not want to live as Mistress of a modern-day Tara, with 
Sam her husband playing Humphrey Bogart?
         Max turned his burning gaze to me.  ÒYes, Flurry,Ó he said, using the 
more feminine variation of my name, the one Jill used, the one that 
sweetly denied my will but promised to care for me and love me.  ÒYou 
will be going back to school, but as JillÕs daughter, not really her daughter 
of course, free to come and go when you please, but, being 13, you will be 
presented as her daughter, though some may wonder when indeed Jill got 
pregnant to have one your age at her age now.  But, a few mysteries are 
not entirely to be frowned upon.  You will be going back to school, a 
private, advanced school, one more suited to your temperament.  YouÕll 
leave in your crisp girlÕs uniform and then come home again at late 
afternoon, everything all certain and proper.  Then, at night, youÕll sleep 
with Jill and Sam, the three of you married together and fucking in your 
big bridal bed.  YouÕll wear a slim wedding band to school on your finger, 
and tease the boys with it, IÕm sure, them wondering which hand and which 
finger indeed means a girl is taken for life, and being left all confused.  Of 
course, if you fancy one, thereÕs no bar to you substituting him for Sam, or 
sharing him with Sam and Jill, as you choose.  Mistress Lalique is only 
laying the foundation for you two.  You may make other arrangements as 
you wish, once youÕre settled.Ó  He gazed longingly at our two slim naked 
bodies, and I realized again he might still be our servant, despite his 
hugeness and the overwhelming dominance of his demeanor.  ÒTell me, 
girls,Ó he said at last.  ÒI know it will be quite a struggle for you to 
accommodate yourselves to the many pricks which wish to invade you, 
including my own.  Yes, you will take me also, when you can handle it.Ó  
His grin widened.  ÒBut, overall, let us say, despite the Civil War you must 
feel inside you as you contemplate all this, do you think you might agree 
to such a scheme, living in a mansion of your own, in the finest part of 
town, and having servants to do your bidding?  ThereÕs no such thing as a 
free lunch of course, even for beautiful, spoilt little girls.  But what say 
you to the entire thing, can you nod your heads that you would like the 
result, at least?Ó  He waited.  I wanted to tell him he was a lousy poet and 
should just talk normally, but with every impatient heave of his chest I 
felt a little poetry from such a monstrous-looking man wasnÕt necessarily 
a bad sign.  At last, imperceptibly at first, Jill nodded.  I copied her.  I did 
not want to, but standing there, weak-kneed, feeling wet between my legs, 
the cool air of the dungeon playing games with my hot, excited flesh, I 
nodded too.  I was but 13, yet I could not deny my hunger to invite males to 
joust with me, though I hoped theyÕd lose and IÕd win.  Secretly, looking at 
MaxÕs big dick, I wished heÕd suddenly paw himself and shoot right there, 
right in front of us, spill his seed uselessly on the floor and then run 
away, embarrassed, frightened of our awesome female beauty.  Jill and I 
would somehow free each other, nod politely with girlish confidence, and 
say, ÔSuch a baby!  He couldnÕt even handle two teenage girls.Õ  Yet, at the 
same time, I wished for it not to happen.  And it didnÕt.  His cock pulsed 
madly, yet Max regarded us with the cool calmness of a cucumber.  There 
was no way this big man was going to flame out.  We stared, he stared 
back.  
         ÒJill,Ó he said.  Words of command.  ÒYour husband is watching.  Get 
yourself down over these cushions now.Ó  She stepped forward.  I imagined 
she was a girl contemplating lovely flowers, not sure if they were 
poisonous, wanting to pick them, perhaps wanting to break open their 
stems and suck out their nectar.  IÕd done such, as a child.  The nectar of 
daisies was sweet.  IÕd wanted to suck on roses but their stems had such 
nasty thorns, IÕd never tried them.  
         Jill regarded the pillows.  Her bottomcheeks shook a little as she 
stood there, contemplating them.  Then she placed one knee on the sofa, 
spreading herself in back, letting me and Max see her private beauty, the 
undersides of her nether cheeks, the sweetness of the cunt.  She would 
display this view for hours to come, I feared, and me too.  
         Jill lay down over the pillows, letting her legs spread wide upon 
them, opening herself with a nervous glance at the dildos Max held in his 
hands.  Though her wrists were bound behind her, she arched her heinie and 
let the pillows lift her butt while the rest of her settled onto the much 
lower portions of the settee in front and back.  Her chin rested on the firm 
cushion of the seat itself.  There was no pillow for her head.  Her knees, 
opposite her upraised tushy, found themselves on the bare cushion too.  
She let her ankles slide off the sides of the settee so that Max could bind 
them to its wooden legs.  The result was a picture of utter, total 
submission, which was indeed best for her safety.  The dildo Max intended 
to put up her would rend her apart if she did not submit completely.   Max 
thrust his own cock at the air, watching her.  His balls seemed close to 
bursting.  I knew it must be quite a job for him to restrain himself from 
taking her then and there, right in front of her husband, who must be 
watching us by camera.  Max was a scoundrel.  I knew he must have been 
paid a kingÕs ransom by Mistress Lalique to restrain himself so 
chivalrously with female bottomflesh beckoning so closely.
         Max walked over to me and patted my behind.  One couch remained, 
standing empty and waiting next to Jill.  ÒDonÕt make me flog you onto it,Ó 
he urged me.  ÒI could not control myself once I truly got angry.  IÕve killed 
girls before, in my lust.  Lie down.  Obey.  It is best for you, and for me.  Do 
not be wilful or IÕll kill us both.Ó
         I stared at him.  I knew he meant it, standing there with his 
powerful, hairy chest rising and falling above my slim little shoulders.  
Once he got out of hand, there would be no stopping him.  He might control 
his lust, but he could not control both his lust and his anger.  I did not 
wish to harm myself by lying down, yet to remain standing would be even 
worse for me.  Max was the true master for a girl like me.  A gentler man 
might have relented, or gotten cold feet.  But Max had passions, deep and 
profound and uncontrollable, like a God who warns his flock not to disobey 
lest he control them.  As Max spoke to me, I knew he was being utterly 
candid about himself.  Were I to anger him, he would not be able to stop 
himself.  He would destroy me, like O.J. with Nicole.  There would be no 
satiating his anger-lust until I was reduced to lifelessness.
         With shivery, fearful steps I approached the sofa.  It was there to 
see me Fucked, pure and simple, by horrid things that meant I would have 
trouble getting up when it was over.  Max squeezed my asscheek, as if to 
reassure me.  Jill turned her head, seemed to urge me in complicity.  ÔDonÕt 
stay standing there,Õ her eyes seemed to beg.  ÔDonÕt let me be 
embarrassed, all by myself, in front of all the eyes that might be 
watching.  Lie down here beside me.  We can do this together.  We can be 
the same.Õ  I loved Jill as a sister.  IÕd never had a sister, being an only 
child.  IÕd always wanted one.  Okay, big sister.  I wonÕt let you down.
         I approached the sofa prepared for me.  I let my knees bang against 
it.  Max patted my bottom as one might pat the flank of a horse to prepare 
it for a big jump.  I glanced nervously again at Jill, saw her waiting, 
watching.  Like a child mounting a big bed, I lifted my knees and planted 
them on the sofa.  My bottom waggled with fright.  My thighs seemed to 
jiggle like jello.  I spread them wide as I felt my boobies dancing on my 
chest, my breath coming in quick, short gasps as I knew I was dooming 
myself to enormous suffering.  Biting hard on the cock that was jammed in 
my mouth, I lay down over the soft pillows.  My hips pressed hard into 
them, trying to smoosh them down to the level of the sofa itself.  It was 
no use.  There were too many of them, they were too well selected, firm in 
their softness, meant to keep my ass up no matter how much I might buck 
or thrash upon them.  I dropped my chin to the sofa cushion.  I felt my 
saliva pool in my mouth.  Behind, I felt MaxÕs strong hands spread my legs 
wide.  Air caressed my offered cunt.  It would not be satisfied today, I 
guessed.  It was my bottom that was on display.  It felt good being offered 
up so to the air, easing the pain of the whip kisses that had been 
emblazoned upon it.  Lovingly Max bound my ankles wide apart to the two 
opposite legs of the couch.  There was no going back now.  He unfastened 
my wrists only to stretch them out before me and rebuckle them wide 
apart to the legs of the couch beyond my head.  When he was done I tried to 
arch up, found my bottom lifting only, a little, the rest of me bound fast to 
the sofa.  A friend of mine told me once of being bound so at a ski lodge, 
during her college break.  She was older than me, had babysitted me once, 
but been kind to me, not mean or demanding.  Sharing her private life with 
me, she said her boyfriend and some of his friends had tied her down to a 
couch like this, the snow blowing outside, their skis all propped up 
against the wall so they could do some indoor slopes instead.  She had 
been first, fucked and re-fucked.  Then her girlfriend had been put down, 
and fucked in turn.  It had been hard work, she said, taking all those cocks, 
but sheÕd not regretted it.  Afterward theyÕd gone skiing again, no one the 
wiser, all of them happy.  TheyÕd all been students at a Southern Baptist 
college, where even dancing was frowned upon.  If only her teachers and 
her mom and dad knew how sheÕd really spent her Christmas vacation, 
sheÕd laughed, herself mostly being buggered the whole time.  Now it was 
my turn.  I watched with a mounting sense of trepidation as Max tied down 
Jill.  She mouthed her dildo, seeming to work her lips upon it, as a baby 
girl might suck a pacifier.  It kept her distracted, I supposed, as she felt 
her limbs affixed implacably to the sofa.  Both divans, IÕd noticed, were 
bolted to the floor.  Somebody knew us girls well.  We would not go easy.  
Nobody likes having something stuck up their bottom, do they?  But it was 
necessary, I told myself.  It had to be done if I were ever to see myself as 
a true woman.  Nuns might escape it, but all the rest sooner or later had to 
succumb.  Better to get it over and done with as soon as you could, I 
figured.  Widen me, then.  Let it be done.  I must love men, for they surely 
loved me and would not let me get away with disdaining them.  
         With my heart beating wildly, I watched as Max went to the wall and 
took down a leather belt.  Another hung waiting beside it.  At first I 
thought he was going to whip me again, and I drew in my bottomcheeks in 
apprehension.  Instead he bent low and threaded the belt beneath my 
tummy.  He buckled it at the small of my back.  The steel of the buckle was 
cold.  Why a belt, I wondered, if I was not to be given pants?  Max opened 
the drawer of the nightstand and drew out a small chain.  I saw it split 
into two at about the mid-point, and that where it remained a single chain 
it had a big ring placed in it, much larger than the other links of the chain, 
which were tiny.  I felt the chain touch my skin.  Max draped it into the 
furrow of my bottom.  The big ring, I realized, as he drew the ends of the 
chain beneath me, the split ends, settled right over my butthole.  It was 
small, hidden, withdrawn, but pulling on the chain, Max caused the big ring 
to part my asscheeks and show my hole more easily.  They were yanked 
apart already, from my posture, but now as the ring impressed itself 
between my two nether cheeks it forced them wider apart, and my 
recessed bottomhole was made more available.  I tensed, tried to keep its 
dimpled privacy all to myself.  Max hooked the split ends of the chain to 
the front of my belt, feeling beneath me for the snaps.  I found that the 
split chains ran down thru my nest and joined up only after bypassing my 
cunt.  Max could take me there if he wished, without the chains preventing 
him.  Ah, how odious it was!  The chains were apart where they might have 
saved me in front, yet in behind, where the chains became one, the big ring 
spread me to insure that something could be forced up my bottom!
         Jill watched, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered in turn.  Max got my 
three chain tails all snapped to my belt, two tails in front, one behind.  
The ring brooded more deeply between my slumbering cheeks.  The O of my 
bottomhole remained snug, private, but not for much longer.  Along the lips 
of my cunny the twin chains passed, infuriatingly bypassing my cunt, my 
clitty.  Yet at the same time they squeezed a little upon my cunt lips, from 
the outside, as if promising to make me happy, yet failing miserably.
         Max added a final sheen of vaseline to the huge cock intended for my 
little hole.  He grinned down at me, an executioner regarding his victim 
with barely-suppressed glee.  ÒYouÕre going to feel this right up to your 
bellybutton,Ó he assured me, making my heart pound ever faster.  ÒTry not 
to move once itÕs in you.  ItÕs going to be something your bodyÕs never had 
to deal with before.  DonÕt hurt yourself trying to fight it.  You wonÕt be 
able to have it out until I say so.Ó  He bent down then, waving the 
bulletheaded monster once before my eyes to truly frighten me, and he 
grabbed my asscheeks and pulled them apart with brutal disregard for my 
body or its limits.  I felt the flanged tip of the beast hard against my anus.  
I jerked in my bonds.  He laughed.  I arched up to try to escape.  It was my 
undoing.  The movement shafted the mighty thing right into me, his hand 
pressing hard.  I shrieked.  He worked it deeper.  
         No, no, no, I breathed and coughed over my gag.  But it was a penis 
gag in my mouth, mocking me, filling me, so that I could not speak.  In my 
behind I felt the dildo pressed harder and harder, opening me despite my 
will, ramming ever more vigorously into my ass.  In truth I think he might 
have taken many minutes, urging it slowly, but it all seemed to coalesce 
in my mind, one long moment of unending agony as he made me take 
something bigger and bolder in my bottom than IÕd ever even dreamed of in 
my wildest, most nightmarish fantasies.  And there were bigger still to 
come, I knew.  This was just the first, the ÔeasyÕ one, in the mind of those 
who would have me prepared for a roomful of lusty army boys.  Jill 
watched with ever more fearful eyes.  I did not wish to look at her, did 
finally, staring at her as I felt myself impaled in back.  Up my gut he 
pushed his wicked thing, his own cock still standing by, readier than ever, 
waiting its turn.  At last I felt myself split utterly wide, all the way up 
me.  I think he might have stopped short, so as not to hurt me, but I only 
found that out later, as we ate breakfast together the next morning.  The 
ring that had first broached the cheeks of my fanny was now tightened 
around the fake cock so that I could not expel it.  (I could not, in any event, 
it was so imposing, but I might have worked it back a little, in time, 
through involuntary movements of my muscles.)  To assure that it would 
stay right up me, far as it could go, the cock was clamped with the ring.  
It fit around one of many little grooves in the cock, each subtle groove 
being there just for the purpose, so that a girl like myself could be 
penetrated to any depth and then firmly kept there.
         Jill was fitted with a belt of her own.  She tried to lie still, but I 
could see her wrists twisting in their bonds and her mouth sucking hard on 
her penis-gag, to try to release some of her tension and fright.  
Injudiciously I moved my bottom just a little and a sharp cry of alarm was 
forced involuntarily from my throat.  My whole body was captive to that 
awful thing up my ass!  I could not move at all, except perhaps my head, 
without that horrible penetrating thing threatening to tear my guts out!  I 
lay panting over the sofa.  Oh, let me up now please, IÕve had my 
punishment, done my duty.  Jill was buggered slowly by Max, who ignored 
me for the time being.  I felt I might black out.  How could I have gotten 
myself into such a predicament?  I prayed there wasnÕt an earthquake.  My 
poor little body wouldnÕt survive it.  
         When we were both fully fitted, Max sat down between us.  He 
stroked his cock a little.  I think it was to assuage the terrible longing he 
felt there, in his privates.  Then he began comforting us.  For hours he 
patted and stroked and kissed us, like a young boy with his first love.  
Never have I felt so cherished, even as I endured the agony of having the 
monster cock up my butt.  He weighed each of my breasts in his hands, 
cupping them, squeezing them gently again and again, milking them, it 
seemed, as I lay panting and crying from my torture.  He ran his calloused 
fingers along my satiny inner thighs, tickling my clitoris like it were my 
belly-button, and I a laughing little girl.  ÔDonÕt make me cum,Õ I begged, 
for the thrashing of orgasm would have torn up my insides.  He brought me 
close, desisted, taunted me more.  I moaned and prayed to be left alone, 
yet when he turned to Jill I wanted him back.
         Never have I had such male attention.  He licked my bottom with his 
tongue, testing the fit of the cock in my anus with his tonguetip.  Jill too 
received the same treatment.  He massaged my split-open cheeks, applied 
cream to my whip marks.  I hardly felt them now, the dick up my fanny 
was so all-encompassing.  If only I could be back home, or at school, 
sitting primly at my desk before the teacher, thinking of numbers, the 
alphabet, cursive writing, nouns and pronouns and beginning algebra!  Yet, 
somehow, calculating numbers in my head, I think I might wind up 
measuring the jock strap size of the boy sitting behind me, who pulled on 
my ponytails.  Oh, what we girls get ourselves into when we stop being 
ourselves and start noticing boys!  Let me be little always, ensconced in 
my room with my mommie at the door, watching me do my homework, 
teddy beside me, nude in his fur but without any sporting appendages, 
carefully neutered.
         Our gags were removed.  ÒHow are you doing, girls?Ó Max asked us in 
a mocking tone.  We both gasped out our breaths, moaned a little, could say 
nothing.  It was too horrible.  He fed us cookies and milk then, fetching the 
milk from somewhere, as if to tease us about our lost innocence.  I had to 
lap up my milk from the cup he held to my chin.  He would not let me drink 
it.  I could not have, anyway.  Little lapping sips were all I could manage in 
my distended state.
         ÒI must destroy whatever conception might have taken place in your 
wombs at the wedding,Ó Max told us after feeding us our cookies.  He made 
us stick out our tongues and placed on each one a pill.  RU-486.  WeÕd had 
too many men at the wedding.  Not by choice, of course, but to satisfy the 
fantasies of Sam and Emily and the others there.  I swallowed my pill.  Jill 
swallowed hers.  Next Max made us each swallow a birth control pill.  We 
were being put back on the pill, he said, for our stay here was for pleasure 
and training only, not for the purpose of bearing young.  When IÕd 
swallowed my pill Max fed me his penis.  I wanted the gag back.  It was 
small compared to his member.  He urged himself into me.  I fought it a 
little, but was too weak from being over the couch to resist sufficiently.  
He urged himself in deep, then back and forth.  I could see he wanted 
desperately to cum.  At last he withdrew.  Jill, her face stained with 
tears, lifted her eyes and regarded him.
         ÒMax,Ó she said.  ÒI know Sam is watching, and you must please 
Mistress.Ó  Jill let out a short cry.  SheÕd moved her fanny a little, or 
perhaps her tummy, and felt anew the hugeness of the cock up her ass.  She 
recovered, and continued.  ÒDonÕt torture yourself so, Max,Ó she urged him.  
ÒLet yourself cum.  We wonÕt tell.  Perhaps Sam is not watching now, or if 
he is, shoot and then pull out before youÕve lost your size.  He wonÕt know, 
if you do it just so.  Let me help you.Ó  She parted her lips, opened her 
mouth.  She let her tongue loll on the lower lip of her mouth.  Lightly, 
though it caused her to scream out briefly again, she shook her head, 
tossing the blonde strands of her hair away from her eyes.
         Max went to her then, like a supplicant boy approaching the altar of 
his lust.  He bent his knees and introduced his cock into her mouth.  She 
cried out and tossed her head again to let her long blonde locks fall 
concealingly over her face.  Sam would not see, would not know, what 
happened next.  Max thrust himself into her, letting his organ feel the 
sensuousness of her lips and tongue upon him.  In his face I could see he 
was urging himself to pee his cum into her, to rid himself of his awful 
load that so swelled his balls and thickened his cock.  Looking through the 
camera, they would not see him quite so intimately as I did.  They would 
not catch the subtle change in his features.  With glad-hearted strokes he 
pounded JillÕs mouth, enjoying her, letting her lead him sometimes, he 
leading at other moments.  Actually it did not last too long.  He had waited 
for hours for this chance, and he prayed to himself to let go, let go, let 
go...  It was hard after so many hours of manfully holding back.  
         And then it happened.  You would have to have been as close as I was 
to realize it.  With guilty pleasure he flexed his bottomcheeks and jetted 
his essence into Jill.  With the skill of a married woman she took him all, 
losing just a little.  It dribbled down her chin and I wished I could run and 
lick it off, to save them both from the wrath of Mistress Lalique.  Was she 
taping all this?  Would she replay it later and discover it then, watching 
us in slow motion?  I hoped not.  As soon as he was done Max withdrew, 
his cock not yet deflated.  Quickly he wiped his sperm off JillÕs chin with 
her own lovely blonde hair.  
         There were not any pants for Max to put on, so he went to the wall 
and took down a leather belt.  He put it on.  Then he took a chain, clipped it 
to the front of his belt, and wound its length down around his softening 
penis.  He drew the chain beneath himself, over his balls, splitting the 
nuts apart, and then passed it up through his buttcrack.  He attached it to 
the back of his belt.  Turning around to face us, it looked for all the world 
as if heÕd bound up his huge schlong to avoid the temptation of fucking us.  
He grinned.  It was our little secret.  He let us up then, removing the huge 
cocks first, then taking off our belts, finally unpinning our legs and arms.  
He had to lift me bodily from my couch.  Jill tried to get up, collapsed.  
Gently Max stood her up and helped her get her feet planted firmly on the 
floor.
         I looked at Jill.  She looked at me.  We were still hot with our need.  
Suddenly I flopped back down onto the sofa, so recently the scene of my 
torment, and threw open my legs just as wide as theyÕd been before.  This 
time, though, I made sure I got my hands beneath myself.  I turned my face 
so that my cheek rested comfily on the sofa seat.  With my bottom over 
the pillows, my hips resting atop them, my belly churning, I touched my 
fingers to my clit.
         Jill smiled.  Unsteadily she bent forward, Max holding her, and she 
kissed my face.  Then she kissed each of my bottomcheeks.  She raised her 
hand.  I began to frig myself.  ÒNaughty!Ó she gasped, her voice hoarse from 
her screaming, and she slapped my fanny as hard as she could with her 
hand.
         When my spanking was over, and my need released, she took my 
place.  I gave her as good as IÕd gotten.  She let out shouts of joy, mingled 
with pain, as she masturbated her clit to fulfillment.  Max led us upstairs 
then, holding us, helping us walk, and put cream on our bottoms for us and 
then tucked us in bed.  We slept all day, knowing we must start all over 
again the next morning.
         That night we went skinny dipping in the pool.  Max did not fuck us, 
we simply played together, for he knew he must be hard as steel the next 
morning for the cameras in the basement.  It was special, the three of us 
running and splashing in the moonlight.  I felt like a fishtailed mermaid, 
and wished for a tail, to keep me from ever being fucked in my bottom 
again.  But it was not to be and, at last, we retreated to bed, where we lay 
awake, watching the moon pass by us in the window, leaving only the stars 
at last to twinkle in on us.  We spent the long night touching each other, 
like children in a sleeping bag.  It was sensuous, just touching.  As the 
dawn loomed we fell asleep for a little while, resting for the torments of 
the day ahead.
         
         Jill sat down nude at breakfast.  She ate delicately with her knife 
and fork.  She shifted on her seat.  Her bottom still hurt a little from 
yesterday, as did mine.  Her pancakes were syrupy.  I could see she was 
eating as daintily as she could, so as not to drip on her softly stirring 
bosoms.  She had large ones.  They dangled over her plate, her nipples 
threatening to dip themselves in her eggs and syrup.
         I ate with equal care.  We were all fresh and showered, our hair 
fixed, our makeup perfect.  We could not dally long at breakfast.  The 
watching eyes would be waiting for us in the dungeon, expecting us, 
counting off the minutes we were late, promising vengeance.  Jill looked 
up at Max.
         ÒMax,Ó she said suddenly.  ÒI donÕt want a big house anymore.Ó
         He turned.  He was gorgeous in his nudity.  His big pole stood out 
from his loins, all hard and ready for us.  ÒIt is too late--Ó he began.
         ÒI just want you, Max, thatÕs all,Ó Jill said.  She took off her wedding 
band.  She tossed it at him.  Then, reaching for my hand, surprising me, she 
drew off my own ring, me watching with utmost reluctance, and tossed 
that at Max too.  The rings landed on the floor, at his feet.  Casually he 
stepped on them, looked up at us.  ÒYou escaped from prison, didnÕt you?Ó 
she asked Max.  ÒEscape from here.  Lead us away.Ó
         ÒI cannot get out,Ó Max answered.
         ÒYou canÕt, or you wonÕt?Ó Jill asked.
         ÒI---Ó Max began.  ÒWe have everything here we need for our 
pleasure.  All you have to do is agree to have your bottoms widened.  And I 
must stay hard, of course, not difficult, really.  I could have fucked you 
last night.  But I want to look my best for the women on the T.V.  I have 
mixed loyalties, you see.Ó  He grinned.  Such a rogue!  Here he was, living 
with us, making love to us, yet he cared only a little for us, in the end.  He 
saw us as victims, nothing more.  Just bodies to be broken and trained.
         ÒAlright, Max, but donÕt say I didnÕt ask,Ó Jill relented, returning to 
her food.
         ÒIÕm a well kept man,Ó Max replied.  He sat down and began eating.  
ÒYou see, when you are both gone, other girls will be brought.  I have 
nothing to gain in your love.  I donÕt need love.  Just sex.Ó  He grinned at 
Jill.  He watched with amusement her young bosoms as they jiggled freely 
over her syrupy plate.  ÒI might clamp those today,Ó he said.
         Jill shivered.  ÒI hate you, Max.Ó
         ÒYou girls are so unpredictable,Ó Max laughed.  ÒIt is for the best.  A 
masochist should not love her sadist.  She should fear him.  IÕve been too 
easy on you girls.Ó
         ÒPlease, Max,Ó I begged.  ÒDonÕt hurt us anymore.  That was awful, 
yesterday, lying over that couch, however much you might have tried to 
make love to us and comfort us.  My bottom still hasnÕt recovered!Ó  I felt 
my heinie sitting on my seat cushion.  It nether cheeks spread out on it.  
My hole still felt violated, all these hours later.
         ÒIt isnÕt supposed to recover,Ó Max replied suavely, eating his eggs, 
cutting his bacon.  ÒYour hole will shrink back to its normal size if it isnÕt 
pried further apart each day, until finally it gives up and becomes more 
accessible, for all time.  We must return to the basement and begin again.  
I promised Mistress Lalique, and thereÕs no way you girls can escape it, so 
you may as well accommodate yourselves to it, in a manner of speaking.Ó  
He laughed a big, hearty laugh, that made his penis wiggle between his 
legs like a feisty pogo-stick.  I could see it all, under the table, for it had 
no tablecloth upon it, being as uncovered as we ourselves were.  I truly 
hated him then.  But I knew I could do absolutely nothing about it.
         We ate our breakfast in silence.  Outside, through the screen door, 
songbirds sang out their mating calls and went digging for worms in the 
soil to feed their nestlings.  When we were done we took our dishes to the 
sink and dumped them in.  Jill and I would have walked away, but Max 
stood behind us and made us wash them.  We had to wash his too.  He did 
not help us.  Then, as we dried our hands on the dishtowel, he got the key 
to take us downstairs.  He led us to the cellar door and opened it.  I felt a 
rush of cool air on my skin, Jill just behind me, touching my back 
apprehensively.  Again I was made to go first, stepping into the darkness.  
Max switched on a light for me after he entered.  I made my way down the 
stairs, no railing to help me, my ass jiggling and me still feeling the 
impression the dildo had made yesterday in my backside.  The whip marks 
were almost completely faded.  But, last night in the pool, as we floated 
on our backs under the stars, heÕd promised us that each day would be a 
little harsher, a little more demanding, in all its aspects, not just in the 
size of the dildo we were required to take.  IÕd accepted it then, not 
caring, knowing that morning was still hours away.  Now his words 
haunted me.  
         At the bottom of the stairs I undid the gate latch again, lifting it up, 
letting the gate swing open to admit me.  Jill followed.  Hidden cameras 
tracked our progress.  Max closed and locked the gate behind us.  
         ÒTo the couch?Ó Jill asked, turning to him.  Her eyes were expectant.  
The tips of her breasts were traitorously erect.  Max nodded.  Quietly she 
turned away and took my hand.  I sought reassurance, found none.  She was 
as scared as I was.  We were not playing today.  This would be for real, the 
damage to our bottoms not yet healed as we were stretched even further.
         With graceful, meek steps, sometimes nervously on our tiptoes, we 
proceeded through the dungeon.  At the back the twin sofas waited.  
Freshly cut flowers, droplets of dew still clinging to them, stood in the 
vase on the nightstand.  Briefly I admired Max for remembering such a 
thoughtful, feminine touch amidst all this male-inspired madness.  How 
had he managed it?  I had not seen him cutting the flowers, yet there they 
were, and neatly arranged too, as if heÕd spent time learning floral skills 
when he was in prison.  Yes, he was just a convict, weÕd learned, floating 
in the pool, shivering at the stories heÕd told us of his days in prison.  Now 
he was out by the governorÕs permission for good behavior.  But still half-
captive, under house arrest, and used by Mistress Lalique for her wicked 
designs.
         ÒAlright girls, letÕs be quick about it.  IÕve got other things to do 
today, like mow the lawn,Ó Max said.  He was housekeeper here too.  No 
maids or servants were provided for prisoners.  But would he leave us 
alone down here?  A sudden dread filled me at that thought.  Just Jill and 
I, bound and gagged, the cameras watching, prying?  What if we needed 
something?  Surely he could not abandon us.  Jill and I turned, looked back 
over our slim bare shoulders at him.  We unclasped our hands.  From the 
look on his face you could see he would brook no nonsense this morning.  
He had taken a braided whip from the wall upon closing the gate and it 
terrified me.  HeÕd not stuck us with it, but he sometimes made us start 
with flicks of the whip against the furniture-like machines in the 
dungeon.
         I bumped my knees to my couch.  Jill contemplated hers.  Twin 
dildos, larger still than yesterdayÕs, stood erectly on the nightstand.  They 
were already greased.  If only I could have been tried again with 
yesterdayÕs cock, I might have found it easier this morning, but no, today I 
must have bigger still, by order of my unseen masters.  Were they 
watching me?  Did they care?  Or was I just the newest bottom to submit 
to their horrid desires?  I bent, let my ass cheeks show more fully to 
whoever might be looking.  I stroked the sofa where I must soon lay.  I 
jumped suddenly.  Max had struck something again.  Not me, not yet.  
Hastily I decided to get on my couch, to comply, to open myself and behave 
and been seen to do my best to obey.  Jill had the same inspiration.  A 
moment later we each lay over our pillows, our hands in place, our legs 
duly apart, waiting to receive.  Max bound us down with the straps affixed 
to the legs of the couch for the purpose.  He seemed to somehow tie me 
wider this morning, make me even more open.  I did not protest.  I would 
need every ounce of openness I had in me to even think of taking such a 
huge cock as now stood on the nightstand.  I urged my butthole to unclench 
itself and bloom wide before the bulletheaded monster.  Yet, squirming 
over the pillows, I knew it was just about as snug as it had been 
yesterday, a little bit opened perhaps, soon to close up completely again if 
it were not forced anew.
         Jill and I shared self-pitying glances.  Max buckled us into our belts, 
threading us with the chains so that we would not be able to expel the 
gifts which soon would pierce our backsides.
         ÒPlease Max, spare us,Ó Jill whispered to him.  ÒIÕll do anything for 
you.Ó
         ÒYou will indeed,Ó Max chortled.  He was truly evil, I realized.  Then 
he took her assigned cock from the nightstand, hers a little bigger than 
mine because she was older, and sat down beside her.  He put the bullet-
shaped penis to her anus and pushed.  She gave a brief cry of alarm as she 
felt it intrude.  ÒOpen yourself, bitch!Ó Max snarled.  He had less patience 
today.  He worked the cock into her, pushing and shoving, not caring as she 
cried out in terror and pain.  I donÕt think he truly harmed her, except for 
opening her more, but it was his manner, so callous this morning, that 
made her bleat with renewed misgivings and fright.  When she was 
properly impaled he sewed the cock up tight in the ring, then turned to me.  
         ÒNo!Ó I shouted.  I strove to break free of my bonds.  It was then I 
knew why the straps on the couches had looked so sturdy to me.  Stronger 
women than I had tried to break free, all to no avail.  Fruitlessly I wiggled 
about as he sat down, slapped my ass, and then buggered me with the fake 
cock.  He did not care that I screamed.  Softly Jill wept beside me, feeling 
used, forgotten, unwanted.  With prolonged, penetrating thrusts, perhaps 
treating me a little more gently than Jill due to my youth, just past the 
edge of puberty, still so young in the world, he got me open and the cock up 
me.  It took awhile, and many screams later I found myself panting over 
the pillows, my bottom bruisingly wide apart, squeezing desperately on 
the dildo, yet tiring rapidly.  As he stood I gave up and relaxed.  My 
derriere, so plump and cute, had a sheen of sweat on it.  I could feel it 
drying fast as I lay breathless and exhausted over my pillows.
         ÒTry to sleep,Ó he said, patting my head.  ÒI cannot be with you 
today.  It will all be over in a few hours.Ó  He turned, taking his glorious 
cock with him, and left me alone with Jill.
         We waited in the darkness.  He turned out the lamp before leaving to 
encourage us to forget and sleep.  I closed my eyes, squeezed them.  I still 
had strength to do that.  Letting my tongue fall out of my mouth I felt 
more at ease in my bonds, or tried to.  I was feminine, female.  I must 
receive.  I must, or the things put into my ass each day would eventually 
kill me.  I must take them, and not protest.  I would suffer more than that, 
swelling someday with male seed, birthing a child.  This was just a test 
run to that.  A simple thing, really, I told myself.  Turds can go out.  Why 
canÕt a fake cock go in?  But men never did such things, did they, despite 
shitting out bigger turds than us girls every day of their lives.  Bitterly I 
clenched my teeth and tried to fall asleep.  Beside me, in the darkness, Jill 
sniffled and tried to do the same.
         I was awakened with a tap on my shoulder.  Immediately I became 
aware of a huge presence up my little heinie, splitting it apart, making me 
adjust myself to it.  I shouted at my realization of where I was.  In the 
dungeon still, with Max awakening me by bending his knees and whacking 
my shoulder with his cock.  It was stiff still, making him ache with need, 
but he could not serve us as we wished, because of the cameras.  He 
unbuckled the penis from my bottom-impaling belt.  With cautious 
squeezings of my heinie, feeling all sore and raw inside, I helped him free 
me from the awful cock.  He raised it up when it was finally expelled and 
made me look at it in the light of the lamp.  ÒYour shit is almost as pretty 
as you are,Ó he told me sardonically.  ÒLetÕs see what JillÕs looks like.Ó  
With urgent helpfulness she contorted and contracted her fanny to assist 
Max in withdrawing the dildo.  Then he held up her contribution.  Its odor 
wafted out on the air.  Max dropped the dildo in a bucket of water mixed 
with alcohol to prepare it for its next bottom.  Then he took the braided 
whip and, not striking us hard enough to mar us, for we had been good, he 
flogged our distended bottoms to revive them and get them back into 
shape.  Apparently he didnÕt want us opened too quickly.  We churned upon 
our pillows, clenching our heinies against the whip, tightening ourselves 
as best we might as he threatened to strike us right in our hiney holes.  He 
left us confused and crying, our bottoms in a state no girl would ever want 
anyone to see.  Red marks of the lash burned across them and our holes 
gulped in air, still breached and cloven from the sodomy.  We wriggled like 
fish in our bonds, suffering so, our tears flooding out over our cheeks, 
wettening the seat of the couch beneath our faces.  I longed for panties.  I 
had not worn them in days.  To be safely wrapped up in them, even little 
girl ones, with dumb teddy bears on them, would have been a relief for me 
at this stage in my training.  Even Underwear thatÕs Funtowear, that IÕd 
chucked out my bedroom window some years back, to show my mother how 
grown up I was, would be something IÕd have settled for now, as I lay over 
the couch.  Instead, not comforting me in the least, Max introduced his 
penis to my mouth and made me suck it.  I wanted to bite it, but all my 
energy was being put into desperately trying to assuage my bottom by 
moving it around.  Jill was just as active, shaking her heinie like she was 
the star of her own strip show, mouthing at the air with her lips.  She let 
herself enjoy an outburst of tears, not caring how unladylike she looked.  
When IÕd been made to favor MaxÕs huge popsicle-like cock he took it over 
to her, and she was put to it just as callously as I had.  She did not offer 
to ease his erection today.  We hated him too much.
         We were untied from the couch.  We were taken upstairs, shaking 
like children going for shots.  Max had to help us walk.  He put us to bed, 
shutting the door behind us.  Jill and I snuggled tightly into each otherÕs 
arms.  We spent the next hours consoling each other, whispering, nuzzling, 
licking.  At last in a frenzy of feminine lust we made each other cum.  We 
did it in 69, finding the strength at last to assume such a position, me 
above, more frisky, she below, receiving me with motherly warmth.  My 
tongue fucking her, hers doing mine, we cried out our pleasure together.  
Down below our open bedroom window Max worked with a weedeater, doing 
his chores.  His pole stuck up obscenely as he worked naked in the hot sun, 
spinning out the line of his weedeater machine.  I hoped he would cut his 
prick off with it, but he didnÕt.  Later he showered and joined us in the 
bed, but we were asleep by then.
         When night came we rose and swam together in the pool.  It was lit 
by starlight.  Max retained his erection still.  In the stillness of the night 
we offered to help him get rid of it.  We loved him more at night, I think, 
forgiving his transgressions of the day.  He relented at last.  We took turns 
sucking him beneath the surface of the pool until at last he added his own 
liquid to the cool waters.

         Morning came, and we shared breakfast again.  We ate snacks 
sometimes by the pool at night, but this had become our main meal.  It was 
best, Max said, to eat in the morning, so weÕd have energy for the day 
ahead.  Then he took us downstairs, this time selecting a cat oÕ nine tails 
to keep us keen on obeying.  Before taking to the couches, he made us sit 
down on an unfolded towel.  It felt fuzzy and soft against my trembling 
heinie.  I saw a bottle of baby powder sitting nearby, but I donÕt think it 
was meant for us.  I longed to reach out, take it, and pamper my fanny with 
it.  Instead I sat watching Max as he walked to the nightstand, his buns 
tight as could be, his balls drawn up with new seed inside them, his penis 
waggling like a dogÕs tail.  ÒDong,Ó I said aloud, watching him walk back 
toward us.  Jill suppressed a giggle, unsuccessfully.  We were giddy 
suddenly, in our fear.  I lay back on my elbows, let myself relax a little, 
my eyes still on Max and his mighty organ.
         Max held aloft a needle and I at once lost my sense of humor.  ÒGirls, 
this is Quinine, a muscle relaxant,Ó he told us, quite seriously.  ÒToday you 
will have to take the largest dildos yet, even bigger than yesterday, and 
this will help you.  I want each of you to inject the other with it, to show 
your acceptance of what must be done to you.  Of course, should you 
refuse, we can begin with a well-laid on whipping.  ItÕs why I brought the 
cat with me today.  Sometimes girls try to be brave and say ÔnoÕ to me.  
ItÕs not a wise decision, and they soon regret it.  But if you wish to try to 
prove your mettle against me, go ahead.  Otherwise,Ó he said, ominously 
dangling the whip so that its tails tickled my nipples, ÒGet your shots.Ó  
         Alas!  I had felt like a child going to the doctor this morning, and 
now I knew it had not just been some idle premonition.  Jill stood up, 
brushed her hair back from her face, and took the injection needle from 
Max.  He handed her a bottle of alcohol and a cotton swab.  Holding the 
needle as one might a cigarette, she got the cap off the alcohol and wet 
the cotton with it.  I stood.  I showed Jill my arm.  I felt like running away 
but I was so scared I felt my knees lock once I was up.  I stood shaking, my 
eyes wide, a rabbit in headlights.  Jill was trembling a little too, for as 
soon as I was done it would be her turn.
         ÒNot in the arm, stupid.  In the ass,Ó Max told me.  ÒBend right over.  
Show her your fanny and donÕt be a baby about it.  What do you think, that 
IÕm going to put the dildo in your arm?  LetÕs go!Ó  
         I couldnÕt move.  I thought Max might slap me when Jill, touching my 
back, somehow eased me over, bending me in the middle.  I remembered our 
69 together and tried to imagine that we were going to do that again.  I 
offered her the fig of my cunt as I bent low and touched the floor with my 
fingertips.  She stroked my bottom with the alcohol.  Then I felt a quick 
jab in my flank.  I howled.  I wanted to bolt upright but I knew I mustnÕt.  
With all my strength I gripped my toes and contented myself with 
wiggling my tits.  At last the needle was withdrawn.  SheÕd injected me 
very slowly, almost sensuously.  She wiped away the tiny dot of blood left 
behind by the needle, using the cotton swab.
         I stood up and my hands flew to my bottom.  I assuaged it as best I 
could, rubbing it, and feeling the warmth of the quinine begin to spread 
across it.  When I finally let go of myself Jill handed me the needle, the 
alcohol, and a new swab of cotton, offered to her by Max.  I took the items 
with frightened hands.  IÕd never done this before!  
         ÒTry not to shake,Ó Jill told me, and bent over.  I swabbed her 
carefully, doing the area Max pointed out to me, just off to the side of her 
plump fleshy cheek, on the right.  Then, steeling myself against my fright, 
remembering how it hurt when she poked me, I stuck her in turn.  She 
helped.  Her back arched, she caught herself.  Her bosoms hung heavily 
beneath her.  When at last IÕd shot all the injection fluid into her I 
withdrew the needle and she stood.
         ÒRub yourself, make yourself ready for it,Ó Max said to Jill.  He went 
to the nightstand and began greasing up our new dildos.  I looked at them 
with wonder.  They were gigantic.  They looked like twin nuclear missiles 
standing side by side, and I didnÕt doubt that they could do at least as 
much damage to a girl as radiation could.
         Max finished preparing the dildos and led each of us in turn to our 
couch.  The pillows were fresh, there were new dew-laden flowers on the 
nightstand.  Violets.  I hoped my butt wouldnÕt be the same color as them 
when I was returned to my bed upstairs.  We were each buckled down, and 
received our butt-widening belts.  Then the work of the dildos began.  We 
were gouged with them.  We began crying almost at once as they were 
crammed up our hineyholes.  Max worked with judicious slowness this 
morning.  The penises were so big that even he had to show us some 
consideration.  He rubbed our bottoms now and then to make sure the 
quinine took full effect.  I felt my hole stretched beyond belief.  I 
struggled a little to try to free myself, knew it was fruitless, contented 
myself at last with bawling my head off.  
         We were left to sob to ourselves.  Max departed, his work done.  
Somewhere cameras whirred and inspected his handiwork.  He had 
succeeded.  Jill and I were gorged upon the obscene cocks.  They did not 
belong in girlÕs bottoms, yet somehow Max had got them up us.  I turned to 
Jill.  I felt like Christ on the cross.  
         ÒI love you,Ó I wept.  
         ÒI love you too,Ó she replied.  We lay in our bonds.  Now and then, 
moving incautiously, a slight shift of our hips, a too-quick turn of our 
heads, and one of us would blurt out a shrill cry of alarm.  The rude penis 
up each of our butts was a frightening agony.  I was sure I would never be 
the same, and I was certain Mistress Lalique wished that it should be so.
         When Max returned and removed the dildos, I felt I could not close 
myself in back.  Easily he passed his finger into me, testing me.  How 
slightly I resisted his passage!  He checked Jill next.  ÒSoon, soon it will 
be permanent,Ó he told us.  He seemed to savor the prospect.  ÒTomorrow I 
will have enough room to begin phase two of your training.  Each day, after 
the dildos are removed, I will fuck each of you up the butt.  Gently the 
first time, less so each day afterward, until at last you can receive a 
butt-hammering fucking without being torn or harmed by it.  It is my 
reward, girls, for breaking you in.Ó  He slapped my fanny, then untied my 
wrists.  He permitted me the freedom of masturbating myself over the 
pillows, with just my ankles bound to the couch, as he whipped me lightly 
with the cat.  He promised the whippings on ensuing days would be 
stricter, more admonitory, though I might still frig myself while he did it.  
Jill got the same treatment.  With glowing red bottoms we were put on our 
feet at last, and taken upstairs.

         Jill and I both visited the potty as the afternoon sun teased the 
horizon.  When we had both wiped, Jill suggested I let her check my 
bottom.  Standing before the bathroom mirror, I parted my cheeks for her.  
         ÒYes,Ó she said, tracing her fingertip in a circle over my anus.  I 
clenched it, scared.  
         ÒWhatÕs happened?Ó I asked.
         ÒYouÕre a little less tight, maybe, though I canÕt tell for sure,Ó she 
said.  She poked me.  I yelped.  My bottomcheeks flexed and rebounded.  She 
laughed.  ÒOh, we still are tight-bottomed, I think, both of us,Ó she said.  
ÒHere, check mine.  I want to know too.Ó  She turned around and vented 
herself at me.  I knelt and jabbed lightly at her fundament with my finger, 
finding her hole receptive, but rubbery still, clinging to my finger as I 
pulled back from it.
         ÒWhat do you think?Ó I asked.
         ÒI think we both need more still,Ó she answered.  ÒI mean, I donÕt 
want it, but if Sam wishes to use us both with ease...Ó
         ÒI know,Ó I answered.  I stood up.  We faced each other and clasped in 
a sudden embrace.  
         ÒWe must be women!Ó she breathed into my mouth.  
         ÒYes,Ó I answered.  ÒWe must, mustnÕt we?Ó  Furtively we felt for 
each otherÕs nests and played with each other there, standing naked in the 
bathroom, freshly wiped from our toilet.  Max found us kissing and took us 
to the bed and spanked us both over his knee, one of us waiting while the 
other was smacked, me first, then Jill, then me again, and her again, for 
good measure.  He made us both suck him off afterward, under the 
concealing sheets of the bed.  I think the camera must have noticed, but he 
did not care.  He was desperate.  I was pretty sure heÕd be forgiven.  A 
little spurt now and then, in the company of such beautiful girls, must 
surely be permitted.

         We awoke the next morning with new resolve.  We stood in the 
bathroom after our shower, Jill and I alone, Sam downstairs.  Together we 
made each other up, carefully, knowing that this would be the day we 
really began to feel the effects of our training.  We brushed out each 
otherÕs hair, not just our long locks but our nests too, for the camera saw 
our cunts just as easily, if not more easily, than our faces.  Then we 
trooped downstairs, and found Max flipping flapjacks in the kitchen.
         ÒI can do that, Max,Ó Jill said helpfully.  
         ÒAlright,Ó Max answered.  He handed her the skillet.  We were all 
nude, the cool morning air fresh upon our bodies.  I felt new and alive in 
the world.  I would be made a woman today.  Max left the room and came 
back with a bottle of champagne.
         ÒOh, Max, whatÕs that for?Ó Jill asked, happily surprised at the treat. 
A champagne breakfast!  He was treating us this morning!  I beamed at him.  
He could be a gentleman, after all.
         ÒI want you girls a little drunk this morning,Ó Max said.  His words 
made our tummies tighten, not to mention our bottoms!  ÒYouÕre definitely 
going to feel open after today,Ó he said.  ÒThe cocks IÕve got to put in you 
today actually expand and contract.  TheyÕll be big as hell to start with, 
and then, once embedded, theyÕll widen themselves and shrink, not 
shrinking too much, of course, just back to their normal size.  Widening 
and shrinking again and again, theyÕll really give your bumholes a workout.  
Too much of a workout, I imagine, which is the whole point of it.  YouÕll be 
left changed afterward, not much at first, but more so with each passing 
day.Ó  Jill and I looked at each other.  She held the flapjacks over the 
flame of the oven, not noticing that she was burning them.  I felt my 
bottomcheeks tense uncontrollably and knew hers must be doing the same.  
Except for the hiss of the burning pancakes there was nothing but shocked 
silence in the room.  Max gazed at us, enjoying our fear.  At last he laughed 
and took the pancake skillet from Jill.  ÒGo and sit down and start drinking 
that champagne,Ó he said.  ÒIÕll finish the flapjacks.  A toast to your 
bottoms, girls.  Enjoy sitting on them.  You may not be able to do it again 
for awhile.Ó  He laughed a hearty laugh then, long and luscious and utterly 
wicked.  Jill and I scurried to our seats and sat down on our bottoms 
hoping to never have to get up.  Max brought us the champagne a moment 
later, pouring out a glass for each of us.  I watched the liquid flow with 
entranced eyes.  Could I bear to be put to such a use as he contemplated?  
Should I try to kill myself?  I think Jill was entertaining the same 
thoughts.  I took my glass of champagne and hastily gulped down the 
contents.  On the stove the flapjacks waited, the flame turned down to 
protect them.
         We ate our breakfast quietly, not saying anything, not eating, really, 
just nibbling a little.  I began to feel tipsy from the champagne.  Jill 
giggled, let Max refill her glass and drank it down to the dregs.  ÒI canÕt 
believe IÕm actually letting someone give me a bigger bottom,Ó she said 
aloud.  
         ÒJust the hole,Ó Max answered.  ÒIÕve no interest in making your 
pretty little ass lose its shape.  Just in getting myself up you more 
easily.Ó  He glanced at me.  ÒYouÕre lucky, to be doing it so young,Ó he told 
me.  ÒMen will prize you for your ease of use in the coming years.Ó  I 
shivered.  I knew men prized both tightness and ease, preferring to open a 
girl themselves if they might.  Should I wait.  I still loved Sam.  He wanted 
me bigger.  I must obey, mustnÕt I, if I truly loved him?  And I admired Max.  
His ruthlessness, his refusal to be bargained with, try as Jill and I might 
sometimes, begging him out by the pool under the stars, praying to him to 
let us go, spinning wiles wherein he might be our slavemaster for life, if 
only heÕd spare us and take us away from here, though I knew in my heart 
weÕd escape him if he should fall for our tricks.  Girls do not like a man 
who does what they tell him.  Not in these circumstances.  Because they 
know they would never go through with it, except for his iron will.

         Max let us into the dungeon.  Apprehensively, knowing the condition 
weÕd be in when we departed it, we descended the stairs, all shivery and 
anxious, wishing Max would relent at last and take us away from here.  
Implacably he followed us.  We alighted lightly onto the carpet, afraid to 
let our toes touch it.  Max placed a broad, warm palm on each of our 
bottoms and urged me to open the gate.  I could not.  Jill reached out at 
last and lifted the latch, a simple thing, yet I hadnÕt been able to, my 
hands shook so.  Max pushed us inside.  He took a martinet down from the 
wall.  It was stiff.  It would leave a mark just by touching us.  
         ÒI canÕt!Ó I cried suddenly.  Jill seized me.  I thought she would force 
me forward but instead she sought solace in my frail body by pressing her 
own against it.
         Suddenly I heard a tromping on the floor upstairs.  MaxÕs head darted 
upward, mine, JillÕs.  Heavy footsteps, businesslike, uncompromising as 
Max himself.  
         ÒGet down, hide someplace!Ó Max hissed.  Obediently Jill and I 
scampered behind the nearest machine, some hideous device of execution, 
and ducked down.  There was a pounding at the cellar door, and, moments 
later, it came crashing down the stairs, its hinges and lock broken.  Max, 
defenseless but for the martinet, strode over to the base of the steps.  A 
gunshot rang out and he and his glorious erection fell in a heap to the 
floor.  Jill and I screamed.  I screamed louder when I saw the figure 
coming down the stairs.  It was my father!
         ÒDaddy!Ó I shrieked.  I did not rise from behind the machine.  Instead 
I found myself gripping Jill, my nails digging painfully into her shoulder.  
That he should find me here, bare-ass naked, having run away from home!  
He would not believe my excuses.  He was not that kind of man.  Indulgent, 
maybe, but not to a fault like some dads.  
         Blushing and crying, squeezing my bottomcheeks guiltily, I was 
extracted by my father from behind the execution/sex machine.  He glared 
at me, then softened his features a little as he pulled out Jill along with 
me.
         ÒYour mother has been looking for you!Ó my father snapped at me.
         ÒI-I was kidnapped,Ó I said, all teary-eyed and blushing right down 
to my toes.  Other men trod down the steps now, wearing police badges.  I 
was in my birthday suit but my hair was all pretty and combed and my 
face was made up with makeup.  My nails, including my toenails, were 
painted to perfection.  There was a hint of rouge on my wiggly nipples.  
Jill, yanked up beside me, had ribbons in her hair.
         ÒI heard you got married,Ó my father told me.  His voice was stern.  
He gave my fanny a hard, uncompromising slap, making me shriek and 
clutch my bottom right there, in front of all those policemen.  He did not 
strike Jill, just me, making tears of shame come to my eyes.  ÒGet 
upstairs and put on your panties,Ó he told me.  ÒThen I want you outside in 
the car, pronto!Ó  
         I ran up the steps.  The policemen made way for me.  I was small and 
light, my legs flashing, my slim-hipped bottom jiggling and my newly 
grown tennis ball titties bouncing on my chest.  Jill followed, her bigger, 
heavier, womanÕs boobs jostling like over-ripe fruit, her mature bottom 
alarming the menÕs desire as she ran with it shaking heedlessly, all scared 
and embarrassed as I was.
         Upstairs we found bikini bottoms, but no tops.  I guess Max had 
assumed we wouldnÕt need clothes anymore, just panties, perhaps, to 
cover us when we at last were freed.  He did not contemplate us being 
freed by my father.  Quickly we slipped into the swim panties and then 
fetched towels from the bathroom.  Blushingly we came downstairs again 
and were escorted by my father to his car.  
         Huddling in the back seat, I thanked my father silently in my heart 
for saving me from my foolishness.  Jill and I were both drunk, and had 
come so close to having our bottomholes permanently popped that I didnÕt 
even want to think about it.  She was dropped off at her condo.  My father 
went upstairs and fetched the things IÕd bought for myself in the 
meantime.  I waited downstairs in the car.  I did not try to get out or run 
away.  He returned shortly.  He drove me back home.  My mother greeted me 
at the door.  We did not kiss or hug or say hello.  I went upstairs to my 
room.  My teddy bear was waiting for me.  My father spoke briefly with my 
mother, then marched upstairs.  
         ÒTake off your panties,Ó he told me.  He held his trouser belt in his 
hands.  
         ÒBut,Ó I protested.  I had dropped my towel on the bed to hug my 
teddy.
         ÒGet them off, this minute, young lady!Ó he did not call me by name.  
Weepily I put down my teddybear.  I shrugged my bare shoulders, lifting my 
hands, my arms thin, awkward.  Slipping my hands into my panties I drew 
them down quickly.  I bent over as I slid down my panties, wondering if my 
dad would like seeing my seat.  Did he know how close it had come to being 
made receptive, like a womanÕs bottom?  Lightly, but with grave 
misgivings, my fanny flexing with fright, I stepped out of my panties.  I 
lifted them up and dropped them onto my bed.  My father stood behind me, 
admiring my cherub bottom.  
         ÒGod, you look just like your mother!Ó he said.  I flinched.  Like her?  
She was 45, wrinkled, and flabby.  I turned.  My father stood stroking his 
belt but I wondered if he would rather have been stroking himself instead.  
His trousers bulged.  ÒGet up on the bed,Ó he told me.  ÒKneel on it and 
stick your bottom out.  Let it overhang the edge.  Did your husband teach 
you to do this?  HeÕs in prison now, where he belongs, the pervert!Ó  
         I gasped.  Sam, in prison?  No!  How could it be so.  Feeling 
disconsolate within my fear, I knelt on my bed.  
         ÒOffer your bottom more,Ó my father told me.  ÒDip your back.  If you 
fancy yourself a married woman, IÕll make you present like one.Ó  Guiltily I 
let my chin drop a little.  I put a bow into my back, making my hind cheeks 
stand out more.  They were trim and firm and I wiggled them 
apprehensively.  My father had never seen me like this before.  Did he 
admire my tits?  They hung full and well-fleshed beneath me, proud 
titties, ones a girl might show off at the beach.  My cunny offered itself to 
him, but I guessed he tried his best to keep his eyes on my ass.
         And then my father, who had never in his life laid a hand on me, 
asked me a very strange question.  His throat sounded constricted as he 
spoke.  ÒHow hard do you want it?Ó he asked me.  
         ÒNot too hard,Ó I answered, feeling a quivering in my voice as I 
spoke.  My nipples felt like thorns on my breasts.  I feared they might tear 
the quilted bedcover as I let them graze their weight across it.  ÒBut hard 
enough,Ó I replied.
         ÒYou were a very bad girl, running away from me,Ó he said.  He did 
not mention my mother.  ÒI almost got killed rescuing you.Ó
         ÒI know, I know,Ó I wept.  
         And then he struck.  I started, feeling the sting, my eyes widening.  
It burned across my bottomflesh, searing me, making me remember.  I had 
been so bad, to run away from him, to live with a drug dealer, to marry 
Sam without his knowledge or permission.  And I had spoilt the family 
name, too, letting myself be recorded on film for all time, embarrassing 
my mom and dad in ways no one could ever erase.
         ÒAgain?Ó he asked me.  I recovered my balance, dipped my back again 
and lofted my bottom high for him.
         ÒPlease, and donÕt stop until IÕve learned my lesson,Ó I said with 
utmost certainty, wanting to be punished now, wanting to be made to 
behave.  I promised myself IÕd even wear my one-piece from now on, until 
my mother permitted me to have a bikini.  
         My father hit me again.  It was a practised stroke, I realized later, 
and knew somebody must have let him use her own body to train him.  I did 
not admit to myself who that was, though she stood downstairs, listening 
to my cries, weeping, no doubt, for it meant IÕd passed through childhood 
and was a teen now, being spanked for the first and last time by my 
father, who would never dare to order me out of my panties again, no 
matter what I did, for I was too big now for him to discipline like this.  My 
bosoms shook and my hiney bunched and churned.  I rocked on the bed as 
stripe after stripe was laid on my bottom.  The bed creaked knowingly, I 
tried to restrain my cries but shouted lustily at last, unable to control 
myself, wanting even to pee I was so nervous and drunk and excited.  At 
last my father threw down his belt and left me kneeling up on my bed, 
slamming my bedroom door behind myself as he stalked out.  
         I eased myself down onto the bedcover and lay there holding my 
bottom tight.  He had really given it too me, but had saved me from a 
worse fate still, at the hands of Mistress Lalique.  I prayed he did not 
know IÕd tattooed the inside of my cunny with her initial.  Oh, IÕd been so 
bad!  I deserved so much more from him, but he was gone now.  I lay in my 
bad for a long time, not daring to move.  I did not hear my mother and 
father downstairs.  They had to be in their bedroom, my innermost mind 
told me.  My father would not have been able to Ôkeep his council,Õ as it 
were, after seeing my nakedness.  He would need relief.  I did not let my 
mind delve further.
         When morning came my mother said we must go into town to buy me 
a proper swimsuit.  I thought she meant a one-piece, but found to my 
delight that she insisted I buy and wear bikinis from now on.  ÒYou must 
begin dating too, dear,Ó she told me on the way home.  ÒI was wrong to 
keep you cooped up for so long.Ó  She did not say more.  That afternoon, 
feeling liberated and free, I roamed the beach in my bikini, not looking for 
boys exactly, but not necessarily avoiding them either.  The house where 
my long-lost drug dealer boyfriend had once lived was empty now, with a 
ÔFor RentÕ sign on it.  Did my father know of my relations with him?  I did 
not know.  There was so much I did not know, and I hoped there was much 
he did not know either.  Or my mother, especially.
         I played in the waves along the beach and wondered about the future.  
I let boys proposition me but turned them away at last, leaving them 
disappointed, skipping back home as the sun disappeared and not minding 
it, not minding it at all.  Dinner was waiting for me when I got home.  My 
parents had gone out.  I ate alone, for the first time without a babysitter 
to bug me, or my parents themselves lording over the dinnertable, asking 
about my homework, telling me what to do.  My mother, especially.  
         Later that evening Jill called.  She apologized, I told her there was 
no need for her to.  IÕd loved being with her.  She told me Sam was back 
home.  I spoke with him briefly.  He sounded as great as ever, but I didnÕt 
want to go back to him, not after what heÕd almost put us through in the 
dungeon.  Jill told me to thank my father for rescuing us.  I assured her I 
would.  I knew heÕd secretly enjoy hearing that she admired him, though of 
course heÕd never admit it.  
         When it was truly dark out, the moon gone, and my parents home and 
asleep in their bed, I went out again.  I sat on the beach and played in the 
sand, covering my feet with it, wondering at all IÕd been through.
         A shadow appeared beside me.  It was darker even than the night 
itself.  ÒCome with me,Ó a familiar voice said.  I looked up.  It was Him!  
My first boyfriend, a man actually, Lord Shaftsbury.  Barbi stood beside 
him.  She held him, wearing just her bikini, though he was cloaked in black 
robes.  I looked closer and saw she did not have a top on.  Her breasts hung 
free, but there were small gold rings in her nipples.  I shivered.  
         ÒI canÕt,Ó I answered.  I did not tell him IÕd tattooed the inside of my 
pussy, the pussy heÕd opened for me to make me grow up.  I gulped.  
ÒPromise you wonÕt hurt me or my family...Ó I said.
         ÒWhy?Ó he asked.
         ÒThereÕs something I must tell you,Ó I said.
         ÒWhat?Ó
         ÒPromise first,Ó I insisted.
         ÒYou were always a brat,Ó he said, and added, ÒI promise.Ó
         ÒMy fatherÕs trying to kill you,Ó I said.  ÒHeÕs hunting for you.  You 
must go far away.  DonÕt come back.  DonÕt go near him.  Because I know if 
you two meet only one will live, and I want you both to be alive always, 
even if I canÕt run away with you again.Ó
         ÒThanks for telling me,Ó he replied.
         ÒYou promised!Ó I shouted.
         ÒIÕll do my best,Ó he answered.  ÒDo you want to come away with 
me?  I have money again.  We could be happy together.Ó
         ÒNo.  You have Barbi,Ó I answered simply.  I did not intend playing 
second fiddle, much as I liked it in the past.  I wanted to be first now, 
first and forever loved...by somebody...
         He shrugged.  In the end I was just a girl to him.  He had no shortage 
of girls.
         I rose up from the sand.  I wiped my hands on my legs.  Without 
saying a word, I undid my panties.  I passed them to Barbi and she took 
them wordlessly.  ÒDo one thing for me,Ó I told my ex-boyfriend.
         ÒSure,Ó Lord Shaftsbury answered, and made to unzip himself.
         ÒNot that, silly,Ó I said.  I stopped his hand in mid-zip.  Carefully I 
zipped him back up.  ÒI want you to tattoo me.Ó  He started.  He looked as if 
IÕd caught his penis in his zipper, although I hadnÕt.
         ÒI-I have a tattoo, itÕs an ÔL,Õ I said.  But I need it changed.  To an ÔF,Õ 
my initial.  ItÕs in cursive.  It wonÕt be hard.  It will mean I belong to me, 
and nobody else.  You can do it?Ó
         He swallowed.  ÒI can do it.  Although, IÕll admit, it will be tough, 
looking at your wet cunt and knowing I canÕt fuck it.Ó
         ÒNo, you canÕt.  Just do me with the tattoo needle this time.  You owe 
me, in my opinion, for deflowering me and... and all that other stuff you did 
to me too!Ó
         ÒNot that you didnÕt enjoy it,Ó he replied with a glowing grin, his 
teeth as white as the moon might have been, if we werenÕt all shrouded in 
darkness.
         ÒJust do it,Ó I said.  ÒDonÕt fight me, donÕt seduce me, just do it.  
Then go away so IÕll never be tempted to take to your bed again.Ó
         ÒWhat am I, Burger King?Ó he sniffed.  But he took my hand and, with 
Barbi holding my panties, he led me up the beach to his limo.  He had a 
driver now.  He drove me to a tattoo parlor, someone he knew, someone he 
could trust to do a good job.  They changed my tattoo there, with me 
screaming, with Barbi gently fondling me to get me through it.  And then I 
went home, and I vowed to myself to be a good girl for the rest of my life.              

30

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