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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PUNISHED FOR PLEASURE
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Chapter Four
ItÕs easy to be led to your fate if you permit yourself little
apprehension of it. And I, it must be admitted, wasnÕt following what IÕd
been taught on Safe Street. I was with strangers. I was nude. I was
underground. For all I knew, the only people who knew of this place (who
were still living) were us.
BridgetÕs eyes grazed across the slick wet surface of my skin as tea
was served. We lay on flat rocks, grateful for the smoothing of Nature
that had taken place over millions of years in this rock-hewn room. I took
her gaze as one of Platonic (well, erotic) admiration. Sure, we were both
girls. Sure, we shouldnÕt compare nipples and admire, with open eyes, how
they stood so readily to attention. But our lust was gentle, appreciative.
Soft stares, embarrassed comparisons. We even admired, together, the
swing of AmberÕs bottom as she served us tea.
How could I help not feeling a bit decadent? I had been a normal girl.
I had not pursued girls as lovers, only as playmates. And the joy of having
a girlfriend is the intimate secrets you share. About everything.
Especially things having to do with sex. Every girl knows this.
Bridget reached over and stroked my nipple.
ÒMmmm,Ó I whispered.
ÒThey think this is just a toy,Ó Bridget said to me quietly.
ÒA what?Ó I asked.
ÒThe men. They think our nipples are just toys,Ó Bridget said. She
blew across mine. I shivered.
ÒYes I know,Ó I said. My voice felt quick. I didnÕt want her to stop
and yet I was beginning to feel embarrassed at our intimacy. We had
touched. We had admired. WasnÕt that enough? Even among friends, there
was a limit to touch.
ÒLetÕs show them it isnÕt,Ó Bridget said. Her face pressed close to
mine. I heard her voice in my ear. She kissed me. Lightly. Encouragingly.
As if to say, ÔI know you wonÕt let me down.Õ
I turned my head. I pulled my face a little back from her. We were
too close. Her breath was sweet but I didnÕt want it flowing up my nose.
ÒWhat could we do?Ó I asked. I lifted my body slightly, pulled it just
beyond her probing fingers. She lifted her hand, arched her fingers. She
caught my nearest tit. At the tip. She squeezed, enough to remind me of
her earlier display of power on one of my nipples.
ÒLetÕs give them a demonstration of breast feeding,Ó Bridget told
me. I looked at her fingers on my tit.
ÒOkay,Ó I answered. It seemed the best answer. I didnÕt want to
displease her.
ÒGood,Ó she said. She let go of my tit. Lightly she brushed it with
her fingernail. Then, as if not to cheat me, she touched my other nipple as
well.
ÒI want some MILK!Ó I heard Amber shout.
ÒThereÕs just tea, and some champagne, but we might go swimming
later and--Ó Sherry replied, when Amber issued her demand again.
ÒNo chocolate milk, no white milk...Ó Amber began ticking off the
faults of the fridgesÕ contents.
ÒIt may not be the London Bridge, but she expected it to carry that
much food anyway,Ó Jim remarked to Walter.
I brushed a strand of hair back from my face. Bridget patted my flat
tummy.
ÒRoll over,Ó she said. I had no idea what that had to do with breast
feeding, but I obeyed. I felt the worn rock against my freshly wettened
skin. My bottom stuck up behind me. The warm water of the pool lapped at
my body, reasurringly. I kicked my feet freely in the deeper water beyond,
slowly, enjoying the floating feeling it gave me. I was a beached whale,
my upper part on wet, water-washed land and my lower part still
available to the open sea.
Bridget took one of my hands. It lay palm upwards along my bare hip.
Lightly she lifted it, I let her. I still felt soft, receptive, I kept my legs
apart as I slowly kicked so that I would enjoy the luxury of the water
washing between them. Its touch upon my unprotected wet slit.
My hand, BridgetÕs new toy, was laid to rest in the small of my back.
Then she lifted my other one. It was made to join the first.
ÒI must tie them. Please be still,Ó Bridget said.
What? We didnÕt even have bikinis, let alone string bikinis, in this
room. It was for bathing! For--
Eating breakfast? I could smell my tea and the aroma of the
sausages, now joined by eggs, as Bridget passed a rope with expert fingers
around my wrists and bound them.
ÒBut I want to eat!Ó I squeaked. The pressure of my chin upon the
rock distorted my ability to speak.
ÒOf course you will eat breakfast,Ó Bridget replied. Her voice was
soothing. ÒMommie will feed you.Ó
ÒMom-- ?Ó I asked.
ÒYes,Ó Bridget soothed. Not without meaning, I thought, she traced
across my bottom where I had been whacked by EricaÕs crop. My fannyÕs
tattoo had faded. It was almost white now, my bottom, perhaps entirely
so, but Bridget knew I remembered the line, without or without its mark.
I ate the entire breakfast lying flat on my belly with my food passed
through opened lips by BridgetÕs fingers. Amber squawked when they put
her in the same pose. She cried a little. But Sherry, the same who had
met me and induced my compliance, so easily, there upon their big bed in
the bed room, worked upon Amber.
ÒBut its MY cave!Ó Amber shouted.
ÒThere are still rooms you have not explored,Ó Sherry answered
soothingly.
BridgetÕs finger stroked its way down between the cracks of my
bottom.
ÒMmmm, we must dress you afterward,Ó Bridget assured me. ÒWe
might be nude, but the fatted calf must always be decorated for the
slaughter.Ó
ÒI donÕt want to be eaten!Ó Amber screamed.
ÒThe knife is for the sausages, dear. It is not for you,Ó Sherry,
giving her kisses, said reassuringly. ÒSettle down. I must spoon your eggs
between your lips and I donÕt want your place getting all messy.Ó
ÒMy place...Ó I said to Bridget. I meant the spot right in front of my
face. My place mat, that is, as she began feeding a big, uncut sausage into
my mouth. The rest of my sentence was swallowed as the big round beef
pushed past my lips.
ÒHmmm?Ó Bridget asked. ÒYour place mat? There are no placemats
here, you know that,Ó Bridget told me. ÒBite now. Carefully. Use your
lips, use all your mouth. I donÕt want sausage crumbs all over your Ôplace
matÕ, dear. Rocks have rights too.Ó
I chewed. The big sausage remained beneath my nose, pressed to my
lips, waiting for me to take another bite. It was tasty sausage, just an
awkward way to eat it.
ÒThere, see? Look what Erika found for you,Ó Sherry said somewhere
to a belly-eating Amber. ÒStop crying. DonÕt cry, dear, we only have your
best interests at heart. See? Erika found Trix Cereal. All the fruity
flavors. IÕll pop them in your mouth one at a time so you can follow your
nose.Ó
ÒThatÕs the Froot Loop Bird!Ó Amber protested. The offense of
mistaking one cartoon for another stopped her crying. ÒThe Froot Loop
bird has a big nose,Ó Amber explained. I was shocked at how quickly she
went from hysterics to calm. ÒThe Trix Wabbit has big ears,Ó Amber said.
Her voice became small, almost too quiet to hear. I realized Amber had
perhaps explored the whole cave, after all, and knew its potential. She
knew more than me, at any rate.
I stood admiring myself in the mirror. Beside me, Bridget was nude.
The sleek lines of her body met at inviting points. Yet nothing hid what
lay there. No scrap of cloth. No top, no bottom. Just the flesh, all white,
letting itself be seen like pale expanses of ivory.
My skin was covered at least with a tan. But zones of promise
showed where my swimsuit usually covered me. There my flesh, like hers,
was white, and unprotected.
There were close to a dozen of us in the room. The bedroom. Where
weÕd mated. Yet despite our pleasures earlier in the night, despite our
satisfactions, we were still nude. There was not a stitch of clothing
between us. We were like lost children in Eden, bare, our genitals exposed
and shame unknown to our eyes.
I felt my breakfast in my belly. I felt satisfied, safe. Yet it was an
illusion. My hands were still tied. I was still BridgetÕs prisoner.
I looked frankly between BridgetÕs legs. She saw where my
wandering eyes rested and smiled. Quickly I looked away. I looked back at
myself. In the mirror. Hers was black. My nest was gold. As I looked
from her pubis to mine I noted how my curls were glinting in the light
cast in the bedroomÕs corner.
Bridget reached down to a pillow lying in front of the mirror. She
picked up a small triangle of cloth. It was white.
ÒYouÕll wear this little bikini over your private until we arrive,Ó
Bridget said. She presented it to my pussy. She threaded my legs with it.
She lifted it, arranged it over my bush. The cloth pushed against my
springy curls. My slit and the panty crotch touched. Bridget tied the
garmentÕs drawstrings. My bare hips felt the bite of tightened string. I
was held.
ÒWhy do we have to dress if weÕre just going to be nude again?Ó
Amber, standing next to me, asked Sherry.
ÒDonÕt wiggle,Ó Sherry replied.
ÒYouÕre being prepared, dear,Ó Erika told Amber. Larissa, already
dressed, stood silently just to my side. Her hands were bound behind her
back. Panties were tied round her hips. They hid as little as mine did.
She was the menÕs property. The three of them had dressed her more
quickly than Bridget could dress me. SheÕd spent breakfast a free woman,
but with penises for her side dish.
ÒWhy are they underpanties?Ó Amber asked in a high-pitched voice.
ÒFor the same reason you have ribbons in your hair,Ó Erika answered.
ÒYou belong to us for a little while, okay? We can do as we wish with you.
DonÕt whine or IÕll give you a reason to whine, girl!Ó
Amber said nothing more.
Bridget fingered my slit. The fabric protecting my snatch did
nothing to stop her intrustion. It was too thin.
ÒYou must make them wet,Ó Bridget said to me.
ÒI- IÕm not...Ó I lost my words. I felt a wave of pleasure wash over
me.
ÒMmmmmm!Ó a high-pitched voice squealed a moment after mine.
ÒStop tickling my pussy!Ó It was Amber. They had fitted her panties on
and were pleasuring her.
ÒYou are tied but it is good, hmm?Ó Walter asked.
Beside me, I felt Laurie give a quick, desperate nod.
We were touched until they were sure that our scent would be left in
our panties. Then they stopped. I watched BridgetÕs finger as it withdrew
from me. She touched it to her lips. She kissed it.
ÒYou excite me,Ó she confessed to me. Her voice was husky. I
glanced at her soft, feminine body. How could such supple flesh hide what
I now heard burning in her voice? My eyes darted up over the slopes of her
breasts, past her nipples, to her neck. Her face. She was eager for me.
I blushed at the fire I saw in her eyes. Consolingly, she kissed my
cheek.
ÒYou will learn,Ó she whispered. ÒYou will learn to love another...
woman.Ó She kissed me again. I felt my knees go weak underneath me.
She smiled. She touched my slim shoulder and steadied me. ÒYes,Ó she
said. ÒYou are mine to do with as I please.Ó
ÒLook, mommie bought you something else,Ó Erika said to Amber.
I turned my head.
ÒA collar?Ó Amber squawked.
ÒYes, donÕt you like it?Ó Erika said to the blonde.
ÒI donÕt need a collar, I need a bra!Ó Amber answered. But Erika
simply put the collar around her neck anyway. I received one from Bridget.
Larissa was given one by the men. Our necks were buckled like suitcases.
We were led from the bedroom. We followed the hall. Like gazelles
we walked, gazelles sought by men, captured now, being taken off for
slaughter. The innocence of such animals even in their greatest hour of
danger showed in our eyes. We were large-eyed, observing all, yet driven
forward, hoping for reprieve from our captors as they gazed at the
succulence of our bodies. We were a good catch. Well fatted where the
meat was tenderest, long and lean on our limbs. I could feel the weight of
my breasts bouncing heavily on my chest. My nipples stood hard. My bush
sprouted invitingly between my young legs. My snatch was a wet promise.
Panties, some joke of civilization, ringed my hips, hiding nothing with a
wisp of expensive cloth. My dell sucked against the intruded material
Bridget had jammed up into my snatch in her explorations. My body was
hers, theirs. Only my eyes, large and frightened, remained free of their
control.
They took us down the tunnel toward the two pools that served as
potties. Then, where the bath tunnel began, they turned in. But no sooner
had we turned to go to the bath than we turned again! I had not seen this
hidden crevice in the rocky wall that jutted in on me from the left.
BridgetÕs fingers took hold of me. ÒYou will have to turn,Ó she said.
ÒThe crack is quite narrow.Ó And indeed it was. Larissa, going first, was
guided by the men. They had to be careful following her. Their cocks,
jutting out in front of them, sought to scrape the rock walls every
direction they faced. Bridget, when my turn came, clasped my breasts and
eased me through. Sherry followed with Amber.
The cave widened. Enough to walk. I listened to my bare feet make
contact with the rock underfoot as we followed a path. It was a natural,
cave grown trail, where rock had thrust itself up from the warmth of the
earth and then, later, lonely at its fate in the night, exposed and cold
under the fixed staring starlight, it had split. We were in such a split and
as the razor walled rock fell away from me, I found a sense of
claustrophobia pass. We were let go. Not by our human masters, but by
the rock. The path between the rock became quite wide.
I felt my feet touch wood. I looked down. Around the corner, amid
the gloom, I found myself on a board. A makeshift bridge. It was about
two feet long. A foot wide. Carefully I crossed it. A watery fluid passed
underneath it. Water, I guessed, but it had a sulfer smell.
ÒDonÕt get your feet wet,Ó Bridget chided me.
A room opened. To my surprise, it was another room that played
host to a pool. But along the edges of this pool the walls gradually closed
in so that, at the far end, there was only flat wall. I saw, poised in the
far wall like an entrance, a dark hole.
ÒYes, weÕll have to swim across,Ó Bridget said to me. ÒWe canÕt
walk around it.Ó She gestured toward the hole in the wall. ÒThatÕs the
entrance to the training room.Ó
I stared at the hole. It was big, menacing. It looked like a giant
maw waiting to swallow me up. Within I could see light glimmering. I
felt a tremor pass through me. Somehow I would cross the lake, and find
myself in there, or... or what? I guessed theyÕd find a way to make me
cross.
ÒLine up, girls!Ó Jeff called out. He made Larissa and Amber and I
stand shoulder to shoulder. He took the pose of a drill sergeant in front of
us.
ÒGirls,Ó he said. He put a drawl in his voice. Larissa broke into a
giggle.
ÒAre you laughing at my cock?Ó Jeff snapped at her.
ÒNo,Ó Larissa answered.
ÒWell if you do, IÕll make you lick it!Ó Jeff said. He put his hand to
his dick. He stroked it. It bulged from his fist at either end like a fire
hose.
Larissa stared at it. She blushed. Then, remembering her breakfast,
she said, ÒI think you already did.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jeff nodded. He grinned. Then he again passed his eyes over
all three of us. He pointed at the hole in the rock beyond. ÒGirls, that
there is the traininÕ room. We are going to cross this lake single file. You
will not find it easy. However, nothing in the training room is easy either,
so we may as well get started.Ó He cleared his throat. He looked at his
cock. He seemed for a moment to waver between saying more, and needing
to concentrate lest something untoward happen. ÒDonÕt shoot on me yet,
olÕ boy,Ó he finally muttered under his breath to his penis. I looked at the
trembling erection aiming itself at us from between his legs. I felt like I
was under a gun. One move, and heÕd shoot me.
ÒHe has to go to the bathroom,Ó Amber, next to me, confided to
Sherry.
ÒWant me to lick it some more for you, sir?Ó Larissa offered.
ÒNo,Ó Jim answered. ÒWise of you to ask, though. A drill sergeant
does have to keep his primary weapon well-polished. YouÕll be called to
the head of the class if mine needs any polishing during our stay in the
training room.Ó
ÒThank you, sir,Ó Larissa said. Her voice was respectful. I realized
she would play along no matter what they had planned for us. She was
committed. To the whole thing. I wasnÕt sure I was. I still liked
preserving my options, at least in my head. I might, I might not. I was
still free to choose, wasnÕt I? I looked at Larissa. Her eyes were bright.
She glanced at me, then away. I felt my belly sink. She had fallen in love
with Jim.
I glanced at the others. I saw them only as friends. They were eager
to try something. It had been fun so far. There had been teasing, touching.
There had been more. Last night had been fun. There had been no
inhibitions then, just as there were none now, and weÕd all gotten to
experiment on each other.
And now there was going to be... training.
I felt a tremor. My nipples, already stiff, grew more. I felt a wave
of yearning in my belly. What could they mean, training? CouldnÕt they
just tell us? We could learn by listening, not by doing.
ÒLetÕs step over here to the waterÕs edge, girls,Ó Jim said. We
obeyed. Me because I was too curious not to. Amber because she knew
something, or perhaps nothing, about how she felt in the cave, and wanted
to go on feeling it. Larissa because she loved Jim. A man weÕd only just
met a day before.
Jim arranged us along the edge of the pool. Then he told us to step
into the water. It was cold. Bridget touched her fingers to my hips. ÒI
must take these off now,Ó she said to me. I watched as she undid the ties
of my panties. They fell down my legs. They struck the water and floated
upon it.
ÒNow letÕs go forward, girls,Ó Jim called out. He led the way. Like
Tarzan, but without a loin cloth, he turned and walked into the deeper part
of the pool.
We followed. We stepped away from our panties. They remained
behind, floating on the water. They floated placidly. I looked back at
mine, over my shoulder. But for a million years, and the permeability of
the fabric, already becoming waterlogged, they might have floated forever.
ÒSingle file, girls!Ó Jim called. He made us rearrange ourselves into
a file. The men took command of Larissa again. Bridget, grinning, stepped
up beside me. Amber walked between Erika and Sherry.
We went forward toward the hole at the poolÕs far end. Water
sluiced quietly between our legs as we put ourselves farther from the
shore at our rear. As we did, the water grew higher around our bodies. It
rose to my knees. Then to my thighs.
ÒNo! ItÕs cold! IÕll get my pussy wet if I walk any farther out,Ó
Amber told Erika.
ÒYes, dear. YouÕll be swimming in a moment,Ó Erika answered. Her
voice was calm.
ÒBut my hands are tied!Ó Amber protested.
ÒSo? Use your feet,Ó Erika said.
ÒYou like wiggling, donÕt you?Ó Sherry said.
They made us go forward, despite the water. I felt myself sink
deeper and deeper into the pool. The water rose on my body until it lapped
at my waist. Then my ribs. Then my breasts, supporting them. Finally my
nipples were submerged.
And then my shoulders! My neck thrust above the water like the last
hope of a giraffe in a flood. Behind me, Amber complained that she
couldnÕt stretch her Òtippie toesÓ any farther.
Larissa let out a shriek.
ÒNo! IÕll drown!Ó I heard her cry.
ÒForward!Ó Jim yelled. ÒYou must swim across. It is only a few feet
for you.Ó
Like gasping puppies, we made the crossing. My eyes bulged. My lips
sought. I sucked in air no less precious because it was from between the
walls of rocks. We emerged wet on the other side, and frightened. If they
could do that to us, what wouldnÕt they dare?
ÒYou did it. Life is a challenge,Ó Bridget told me. She kissed my
cheek. She was happy for my success. I was simply scared.
ÒNow letÕs go up into the hole,Ó Jeff said to Larissa. He pointed to a
small set of steps in front of her. She mounted them. I watched her feet
go up them, one by one. Then she stood atop the makeshift stairs and
looked inside.
ÒOhhh, itÕs scary in here!Ó Larissa said. She drew back. She looked
over her shoulder at me. I stood behind her, waiting to climb the stairs
after her. ÒHold your breath,Ó she said. ÒWeÕre about to get whatÕs coming
to us.Ó
I felt a chill at the end of my spine. I gazed into her eyes. She
nodded, briefly. Then she turned away. I felt the cheeks of my fanny
tighten.
ÒYes, it is quite the place to bring a young woman, isnÕt it?Ó Erika
said. We stood in a bare rock room, with a flat floor. Someone had taken
care to ensure that all the roofÕs stalactites had been shorn away. I gazed
at the walls. At the ceiling. All the roomÕs surfaces had been smoothed
so that they possessed a kind of regular uniformity. We were in a square
chamber, deep inside the mountain. We were in a place where manÕs hand
had definitely intervened. No one could mistake it for a natural formation.
It had a flat roof, a flat floor, square corners. This room, despite being
hewn from living rock, was intended to reflect the best manÕs discipline
had to offer. No matter how beautiful the natural rock may have originally
been. All the earthÕs natural variation was broken and sanded and swept
clean. It was as if we were in a box.
What the box contained was even scarier. My throat was raw from
the way IÕd screamed upon seeing it all. Whips, chains, implements of
harm everywhere! Yet intermingled with it too, as if the two might be
fitted together, were items of pure luxury. Bath soaps, piled in a corner,
next to a bubbling jaccuzzi. Pillows, a teddy bear, tubes of oils and rolls
of condoms. This was truly a weird room. And it was large, too. Able to
accomodate twice our number in any imaginable style, be it the pain of an
inquisition or the soft nursing touch of a mother tending a newborn.
ÒYes girls, you may have a bath or confess your sins,Ó Bridget told
myself and the rest. ÒIÕve done both here. And not too long ago,Ó she
added. She placed a quick hand to her own fanny. ÒBut today its your turn.
You are, after all, our newest friends. And we canÕt just let you into our
secret without exacting a price.Ó She looked at Jim. He grinned. She
smiled and glanced at Amber. ÒYou too, dear. NothingÕs free.Ó
ÒKids under 10 are,Ó Amber countered. Her eyes were wider than if
sheÕd seen a ghost. But I saw her nipples were stiff, all the same. Just
like mine. Was her snatch wettening like mine was, too? Why? Oh, I
didnÕt know! But something had drawn us here, and now we were going to
find out about it.
ÒSo? YouÕre not 10. Quit bringing up irrelevancies,Ó Bridget told
Amber. ÒAll day long youÕve whined and complained and needed to tell us
all something more. About yourself, of course. Well youÕll tell plenty
here, little Bitch Babe. Plenty youÕll be glad your mommie doesnÕt find out
about when I finally see you off at the end of the weekend.Ó
ÒThat wouldnÕt be...Ó Amber began, but she seemed to lose her voice
in her thoughts and we found ourselves in silence. There was not much to
hear in the depths of the cave.
ÒLook how perky all three of you are,Ó Sherry smiled. Her eyes
passed over the tips of my breasts to AmberÕs teats, then to LarissaÕs.
ÒArenÕt you frightened you might lose your sweet nipples in a room like
this? Well, youÕre right. You wonÕt. You donÕt have a thing to worry about
as long as you do just as you are told. Always remember girls, whenever
youÕre here, itÕs good behavior that counts more than anything else. I
learned to be very, very good here. ThatÕs why I cook so well!Ó She
laughed. She looked at Bridget. ÒDid you like my breakfast, girls?Ó she
asked us when her eyes returned to ours. All three of us, myself, Amber,
and Larissa, nodded vigorously.
I was aware of my naked breasts bulging out brazenly in front of me.
I wanted to cover them. But I kept my hands by my side. Bridget had
searching eyes, eyes that were looking for a pretext to begin our games.
She scanned our faces, our bodies again. More slowly, as if sizing each of
us up. I felt other eyes upon me. My breasts were young and ripe and
warm. My nipples sought attention. Beside me, Amber was no different. I
sensed a desire on our part to break free of our childish ways, to conceive,
to nurse, to feed millions with our awkward, large, obvious breasts. Our
bosoms that were suddenly too big for the little girl bodies we still
thought we carried with us. Our paps had grown to teats and our Ôtitties,Õ
as they were briefly called, had ballooned into full-fledged, womanly
breasts. Now we stood revealing them, seeking permission to use them to
console men, to breed with them, to offer ourselves as incubators for
hungry newborns. I felt a tightness in my belly. It was empty. It wished
to be filled. I squeezed the cheeks of my bottom. I was ready. Let them
do what they might. I would be brave.
ÒMy, how your mothers would remark at your attire!Ó Bridget
laughed. She glanced conspiratorially at Erika, then returned her eyes to
us. ÒYes, such sweet little outfits,Ó Bridget remarked. Her eyes fell on
me. ÒYouÕre collared, leashed, and your hands are tied behind your back,Ó
she said. ÒAnd such sweet panties! But they hide so little, and you got
them all wet crossing the lake. And such company you keep! Men with
penises hard as rock.Ó Bridget broke off her speech in mid-sentence and
glanced around at the guys. ÒCome here, gentlemen,Ó Bridget beckoned. ÒI
shall command us today. Yes! The victim can become the oppressor. I
know youÕre all dangerous. Do you think I can only receive? No, I can
deliver the pain also, and the pleasure. So come, stand in a straight line
over here, next to the girls. There must be games, and contests, and
ceremonies. No wild orgies today. Not yet, anyway. We had our fun last
night. Now we should strive for more exacting pleasures. After all, we
are not animals, but human beings.
To my surprise, all three men shambled over to where I stood with
Larissa and Amber. They looked us over, closely, and might have taken us
right there, standing up or pushed to the floor, but Bridget let out a
scream.
ÒNo! No! Stand in a straight line beside the girls! You arenÕt to fuck
them!Ó Bridget protested. The men left off their inspections and formed a
line beside ours.
ÒWhat is this, the fucking military?Ó Jim groused.
ÒIn a manner of speaking, yes,Ó Bridget answered. Her eyes
twinkled. She surveyed the menÕs dicks. ÒMy, what eager beavers,Ó she
said. ÒOr eager for beaver, as the case may be.Ó Bridget cast her eyes
across to Erika again, then to Sherry. ÒWeÕve got some heavy equipment
here, girls. Come look! Better yet, letÕs huddle. We must decide what to
do with it.Ó
Amber leaned forward a little. She gazed, her eyes growing quite
huge in the process, at the line-up of penises beside her. JimÕs was
closest. It throbbed with his pulse. He grinned down at her. She shrank
from his gaze. Yet, a moment later, she was sticking her neck out again,
leaning forward and surveying the row of penises displayed so freely just
to her left.
Bridget and Sherry and Erika had formed a three-woman huddle. I
could just hear their whispering voices. SherryÕs bottom stuck out
invitingly toward us. She waggled it aimlessly as she listened. Bridget
did most of the talking.
When the huddle broke, the three woman gazed at us
enthusiastically. They had made plans for us. For our bodies. Their eyes
passed to the men.
ÒAh, yes. You three,Ó Bridget said. ÒThe sperm boys. Well, weÕre
going to see just which of you has the strongest penis.Ó She smiled.
There was a sensusous glow in her eyes. ÒWe must shackle you, though.
All three of you. YouÕre men. The simple ropes that bind the girlsÕ wrists
you might find a way of breaking. So, no ropes for you, boys. Heavy
shackles, on your hands and feet. But your penises will be given free
reign. In fact, theyÕll be put through quite a few paces. But I want you to
focus, men. Just on your dick. forget your arms and legs. Your past. Your
future. YouÕll be judged in here solely by what your penis can do. Can it
keep from shooting? Can it hold out a minute? Three? WeÕll see which of
you explodes and which of you doesnÕt. Think of it this way, men. YouÕre a
sea captain. But you donÕt travel the ocean. You travel in time. Through
time, minute by agonizing minute, until you reach Ôtommorrow.Õ
ÒThatÕs right,Ó Bridget continued. ÒYou must transport your precious
cargo of sperm from one end of the night to the other. DonÕt lose it! But
donÕt expect an easy ride, either. YouÕll see your poor Ship Penis smashed
between the Goddesses Skylla and Charibdis. They used their faces by the
way. They kissed, with a big male penis trapped between them.
ÒBut donÕt be too disappointed if you cum,Ó Bridget advised the men.
ÒYou can, after all, make more sperm, canÕt you? But be warned. DonÕt
shoot casually. I know thereÕs an upper limit on how much sperm you can
produce in one night. So hang on tight to what youÕve got. ThereÕll be no
let up in the action. And at the end of the evening, when youÕre ordered to
discharge your cargo, your ejaculate will be weighed. The man who shoots
the most wins.Ó
Bridget grinned. She walked to a table and picked up a small golden
scale. It was made of gold. It sparkled. She held it aloft. ÒHereÕs the
scale, gentlemen. But we will only use it at the end of the evening. Only
your end of the night discharge will be weighed. So do a good job keeping
yourself in Ôtil then, and you just might win.Ó
I looked over at Amber to see her reaction to BridgetÕs erotic
soliloquy. It gave me hot flashes but Amber, perhaps, was too immature
to listen. She was struggling with the rope that kept her hands securely
behind her back. Her body, just touching maturity, was utterly
defenseless to whatever depredations might befall it.
It was still possible to see her 9-year-old figure within the more
curvaceous lines of her 12-year-oldÕs body. I tried to picture her on a
swing, jumping off, teasing a boy, running away (successfully). I saw her,
in my minds eye. She was small of form. She had long, golden hair. A
petite midriff with budding nipples topped breathtakingly long legs.
Despite slim hips she had a provacative bottom. When she felt sexy she
tied a scarf around her neck. Slowly, her belly button became revealed as
the months slid past. Then her shirt grew even smaller in relation to her
growing body, exposing almost her entire tummy. It grew tight upon her
ballooning breasts. It was her favorite shirt, with a Care Bear on it, but
given her nude tummy and her ever-larger, shirt-moulded breasts, her
mother finally had to insist that she not wear it anymore. Too many men
were drooling over her. Even the previously chaste father of two next
door.
The men in our company were drooling. But not, like a pervert, from
the mouth. Rather it was their elongated, sexually-charged penises which
drooled. Pre-cum. The very description of this overabundance of male
semiotic fluid sent a shiver up my spine. Were they really to keep their
seed all bottled up in their testicles for the entire night? Pondering this,
I realized that despite the different textures of condoms and sex toys,
despite the differnent flavors of the various sexual aids on display, this
room was not about pleasure. Not primarily. It was about testing.
Pushing ourselves to the limit, sexually. Testing ourselves against the
roomÕs equipment and against each other. It was, in the case of the
equipment, an unequal contest. Unfeeling machinery (and toys!) against
raw flesh. And not just anyplace on the body, but a test of oneÕs most
sensitive parts. The nipples. The clitty. The soft, expansive, and inviting
roundness, pierced in its center by a small hole, of the bottom. My
derriere tightened against the inevitable; I would have one or more things
up my ass before the night was over. Seeing what was on display in this
room, I guessed those who oversaw my denoument would choose
uncomfortable things. They would make me receive them. They would
make a game of it.
As for testing ourselves against each other, I felt the contest was
unequal in the case of Amber. Still, she would have to ask to be relieved
of her duties. Perhaps even plead. And despite her disconsolation at being
tied, I didnÕt yet sense a willingness on her part to back out. If Amber
were to back out, I might try it myself. After all, she was 12 and I was
only 13. Yet as I licked my lips at BridgetÕs soliloquy I felt infinitely
more mature than Amber. I felt a need for the menÕs cocks. She appeared
to only feel a need to be untied.
I thrust out my bosoms. I gazed at my nipples, at their display, then
looked sideways to see if any of the men were noticing my arousal. They
were not. They were mesmerized by Bridgette, by her descriptions of
what would be required of them in their denuded state, their cocks all
stuck up and their balls balled up, straining for release. Bridget, oddly,
did notice me, however.
ÒYes, dear, your nipples will be seen to,Ó she said. She tossed back
her straight black hair with a flick of her head. She regarded my tits for a
moment and then nodded to Erika. The blonde stepped over to a shelf. Her
body was lean, athletic. She had a jaunty air as she walked. She picked up
what looked like two jewelled clothespins and brought them over to me.
On closer inspection I saw they were plastic, mounted with gems of cubic
zirconium.
ÒHave you worn nipple clamps before?Ó Erika asked me
conversationally. I shook my head ÔnoÕ. My hair streamed back and forth in
front of me with my urgent denial. ÒHold still, then,Ó Erika told me.
ÒThey shouldnÕt hurt too badly.Ó
ÒOh, please donÕt,Ó was all I could muster in words. I wished to
retract my nipples but they were febrile with lust. I watched, swallowed,
as the first of my tender pink points was clamped.
ÒOh! It stings!Ó I cried. It felt like a bee had stung my right breast.
It didnÕt let go.
ÒOf course it produces a certain... feeling,Ó Erika replied. Lightly she
brushed a fingertip over my other nipple to ensure that it was fully
extended. I felt wet in my slit, still wearing my panties, and yearned for
a more substantial, and less painful bra.
ÒOoooch!Ó I cried out. The other clamp was applied to my left tit. It
bit into me mightily and made tears spring from my eyes. ÒHow long must
I wear these?Ó I asked in a panicked voice.
ÒWhy, you will be proud to display them on your most intimate parts
until permitted to do otherwise, of course,Ó Erika answered. Woefully I
turned my head to the men. I had their attention now. Jim smiled.
ÒYouÕll survive,Ó Jim said to me laconically.
ÒI donÕt feel like I can!Ó I answered frantically.
ÒHang bells upon her titties,Ó Bridget commanded Erika. ÒThat will
increase her pride of ownership.Ó
ÒOhhhh! IÕm not a cow!Ó I answered. But Erika, impressed with the
idea, went to the shelf that had borne the clamps and returned with twin
metal bells. They were small, silver, suspended from threads. She used
small clips at the pointed end of my clamps to affix the bells. I shivered.
A silvery sound tinkled from my breast buds. My bosoms, despite their
mature size, had been reduced to trinkets.
Worse awaited the men. A straw was inserted into the pee hole of
each manÕs penis. Rubberized thread was fitted behind the flange of his
cockhead so that the straw woudnÕt pop out. Then each man was
encouraged to drink large volumes of water. It was proffered to them by
the ladies; the men drank in a manner reminding me, at least, of horses.
Each of their mouths supped at a shared bottle while their hands remained
conveniently bound and out of the way.
ÒYes, you will pee through the straws,Ó Bridget told the men. ÒIt
will be like a human fountain, watching you. A penis fountain. And youÕll
all pee together, of course. To make the fountain more interesting.Ó
While the men were being fitted with cock-straws, Erika explained
to Amber and Larissa and myself the rules of a devilish game. There was a
collection of padded wooden trestles. Each was a foot wide. But one end
of each trestle was lower than the other. Picture, if you must, six
sawhorses. With wide tops. The top of each is covered in leather. But the
top doesnÕt go straight across, horizontally, as with a normal sawhorse.
Instead, it is angled downward. Rather like a slide. A kitten might
mistake these sawhorses for playground slides, in fact, and slide down
each one.
However, despite the soft leather padding covering the top of each
sawhorse/slide, it had an ominous aspect to it. Near the Ôfalling-offÕ end
of each sawhorse/slide, a large dildo pushed up through the leather
padding. It stuck up straight and Erika explained to us that it was our job,
as girls, to race from sawhorse/slide to sawhorse/slide and shove the
penis up each of our asses. Conveniently, perhaps, the dildo mounted on
each of the sawhorses varied in size from sawhorse to sawhorse. The
nearest sawhorse bore a small dildo, the size of a boyÕs penis. The middle
sawhorses held man-sized dildos. But the final sawhorses each held a
dildo fit for a perverted queen. Huge, and ominous.
ÒOnly the biggest and best for you, hmmmm, girls?Ó Erika teased.
ÒWeÕll proceed one at a time. YouÕll each be timed. The girl who can shove
each dildo up her ass in the minimum amount of time wins.Ó
ÒI-I canÕt possibly take such a huge thing!Ó Amber protested.
ÒThere might be a small dispensation for you, Amber, if you try your
very best,Ó Erika answered. She walked up to myself and Larissa. She
poked a finger into each of our tummies. I didnÕt giggle. I was too scared.
My bosoms heaved, though, against the sudden intrusion into my flesh, and
their nipple-hung bells tinkled. ÒAs for you two,Ó Erika said to Larissa
and I, ÒYouÕll be expected to take the full length.Ó She smiled. ÒAgain, itÕs
effort thatÕs most important, just like with Amber. Effort and enthusiasm
for doing the job. Do you understand?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Larissa and I answered in quavering voices. We sounded like
small children agreeing, before a long car ride, to be good.
ÒFine,Ó Erika said. ÒDonÕt worry. IÕll jam plenty of lubricant up your
asses before we begin.Ó She tugged on one of my breast-borne bells.
ÒCome. I want each of you to place your chin comfortably on the high end
of a sawhorse. Bend over, spread your stance, and give your chin a rest.
Hmmm? So I can drill into your behinds with cream-laden fingers, of
course!Ó
ÒOhhh, I donÕt want to,Ó Amber said. She sounded, curiously, like a
child in a candy shop, I thought, disagreeing with the choice of candy but
not with having a sweet tooth. Erika gazed at her, Bridget too. Then they
glanced at each other.
ÒI can see weÕll have to take care of you first,Ó Erika said, looking
again at Amber. She said it in a soft, knowing voice. It sounded not the
least bit threatening, just a statement. But it was one she fully intended
to carry out. Amber shrank from her gaze. Bridget licked her lips.
ÒAlright, little Amber,Ó Bridget said. She tossed back her jet-black
hair. Her sumptuous tits swayed, elegantly, as she walked with long-
legged grace to where the 12-year-old neophyte stood. Gently Bridget
cupped the girlsÕ breasts. They were so young, so tender, I wanted to dash
forward to protect her from BridgetÕs grasping hands. Amber, her hands
tied securely behind her back, her bosoms ripely displayed, uncovered,
unprotected, gave out a small wail as Bridget suddenly squeezed down on
her tits.
ÒYes, little one. Sex can hurt as well as being pleasurable,Ó Bridget
breathed. She kissed the girl directly on her unwilling lips. ÒHere you
will learn, I hope, that it is a mixture of the two that gives one the
greatest pleasure. Hmmmm?Ó Bridget concluded her statement with a
question mark, directed her gaze at Erika even as she held AmberÕs tits
tightly.
ÒMmmmm,Ó was all Erika said in reply. She dipped her right hand
into the front of her bikini panties. She touched herself. I watched as her
nipples became stiffer. Her fingers played in her slit.
ÒIÕm going to put you in the corner,Ó Bridget said to Amber. The girl
stiffened. Bridget smiled. ÒUnspanked. With a white bottom,Ó Bridget
assured her. She let go of AmberÕs breasts. She glanced at the rest of us,
both male and female. All of us who were captives. ÒPlease turn around,Ó
she said to us. Walk to the wall and face into it. The girls and I have
some preparations to make.Ó She fixed her gaze on me. ÒDo not think your
little race will be forgotten,Ó she said. She glanced at Larissa, then back
at me. ÒIn fact, as you stand facing the wall, think of me, squeezing
vaseline up your ass, for your own good, your own protection.Ó She
laughed. ÒAnd you thought your health class was a pain-- in the ass.Ó
Erika took hold of me. She turned me around so that I faced the wall.
She brushed back my blonde hair and, leaning in to me from behind,
whispered, ÒDonÕt worry, IÕll see that Bridget doesnÕt mistreat you.Ó
I was shoved forward then, by Erika, as if to make up for what sheÕd
just said. So that Bridget wouldnÕt suspect? I stumbled and made my way
forward across the bare floor to the wall. Something fell into the water
outside, beyond our big stone cell. I listened to the splash, wondered at it.
Did something live in the water weÕd just crossed through? We still had
to go back. And we had nothing on, save our soon-to-be-removed little
panties.
The men, already naked at the hips, had the straws pulled from their
cocks. Bridget assured the men that theyÕd soon be bedecked by the
straws again. At the moment, though, more important matters beckoned.
ÒBe submissive for a little while, and let me handle all our affairs,Ó
Bridget said to the men. They complied. I felt it was strange to see them
so visibly eager, yet so docile. But they were, and that sealed my fate.
Only they knew I was being held captive here. But I could hardly be
rescued if they were going to let themselves be made into slaves. If they
were submissive, I must be too. I tried to accept my fate. I stared at the
stone wall. It was implacable. Facing it, I could see back into the
centuries. But at the same time I was prevented from seeing what was
happening in Ôreal timeÕ, right behind me!
We were put in a straight line, like soldiers at revielle, against the
wall. Three males stood to my left, presenting their erections to the bare
stone. The girls made them press the tips of their penises to the wall.
Nick, whoÕd brought us, farthest from me. Then Jim, whom I had a crush
on. And finally, uselessly close, since I had no interest in him, was
Walter. Perhaps IÕd have sex with him, given our undressed state, but it
would not be Ômaking loveÕ. It would simply be sex.
Next to me, on my right, stood Larissa. She shivered at what lay
ahead for us. I watched, briefly, her boobies, her bottom, as she stood
facing in to the wall. It was like gazing at fresh jello. She was curvy and
cute. Beside her stood the ever-desirable Amber. She was placed in one
of the roomÕs four corners. She stood contritely, her legs straight, her
back stiff. She was being reprimanded for nothing, save her desire to
preserve her innocence in the face of such awful depravity. I admired her
courage in speaking up. Then, with her hands softly grasping my neck,
Erika turned my head so that I was forced to look at the wall in front of
me.
ÒBehave,Ó Erika told me. ÒDonÕt give Bridget an excuse to spank you.
God knows, sheÕs good at inventing reasons. You dont need to provide her
with extra incentives.Ó
Time passed. I heard activity behind us but only managed half-
glances to my left or right. I didnÕt wish to be punished. Not any more, at
least, than was already planned. I shivered. I felt the cheeks of my
bottom press together. My ass crack became a slim, delicate line. Oh, how
I wished I could take everything back now. Both my promises to them and
to myself. I would be little again, just a small girl, in the swing in her
front yard. Alone. Protected by her daddy. Strangely, thinking of my
father made me more aroused. I wished, suddenly, to fling myself upon the
floor and dare Jim, despite his restraints, to plunge himself into me. But
the party was all about waiting. Denial. We were being inflated like
balloons, stretched, teased. Last night was for fun, today was for
something else. I wasnÕt sure what. Penance... for our fun?
We were permitted to turn around. Or perhaps we were commanded.
BridgetÕs clear voice sounded in the quiet room. We obeyed. When we
faced out into the room, I saw some things had changed. Bridget was
without panties. Her pussy showed its soft curls. Lightly she stroked
within it, using her fingers. They were gloved. The gloves covered just
her fingers, her hands. Nothing more. They were made of black silk. It
was patterned with designs. There was a large silk bow attached to the
back of each of her gloves. Upon her thighs, stockings rose above her
knees. They were of the same material as the gloves. Each had a big bow
on it, hung from the outside of her stockinged thigh, at its apex, as if she
were a Christmas tree in need of decoration.
Except for a scarf, tied tightly around her throat, matching her
gloves and her stockings, Bridget was naked. I gazed at her lily-white
skin with amazement. Her cherry tits poked up at me from across the
room, inviting me to sample them. Involuntarily, I licked my lips. She
caught the movement of my tongue and smiled.
ÒCome, we must have our afternoon tea before you are punished,Ó
Bridget said to me. Her voice was gay. She was in total command. I was
but a leaf, blown by the wind. Larissa was the head of a dandelion. Amber
was but a puff of pollen. Bridget, despite her nudity, held a big,
demanding-looking horse whip in her hand. It had multiple thongs. Each
bore, at its tip, a small jewel. I wondered if they were real, or fake like
the gems hung from my nipples.
ÒOh, this whip is quite valuable,Ó Bridget said. ÒMuch more so than
your ass, I can assure you.Ó
Assured that we would be punished with only the finest of
implements, we allowed ourselves to be led over to a table set out for tea.
The china pot holding the tea looked delicate; blue with swirls of bird-
shaped color on it. The cups, exactly the correct number for our group,
matched the pot. Bridget seated herself at the table and put me on her
knee. Erika took Amber. Sherry, better endowed than any of us, sat
Larissa in her lap. My friend, inexplicably, snuggled up against SherryÕs
big mother-like tits and seemed to wish to nurse at them.
ÒOh, she wishes to have milk with her tea!Ó Sherry laughed. She
guided LarissaÕs mouth to her nearest teat and began suckling the girl. Of
course, she wasnÕt pregnant, Larissa could get nothing but comfort from
SherryÕs tits. But she sucked lustily anyway, and I envied the relative
safety of SherryÕs lap, compared to the lap I sat in, that of the Vampire-
like Bridget.
ÒWould you like a taste of my tit?Ó Erika asked Amber. She took the
girlÕs chin and pressed it close to her bosoms.
ÒNo, I--Ó Amber began. But then, seeing how relaxed Larissa looked,
despite our situation, she suddenly grabbed ErikaÕs nearest tit begween
her teeth and began sucking furiously.
ÒOh, hungry baby!Ó Erika said, startled. She gasped out a sigh. ÒYes,
feed, suck all you please,Ó Erika said. I did not pay Bridget the same
compliment.
How embarrassing it would be for one girl to suck anotherÕs tits in
the normal, everyday world! Yet here all was different. I was being
served tea, in delicate cups, yet my bottom must be scourged, and plied
with vaseline, so I could partake of wicked games ramming dildos up my
unwilling ass. I gazed at the men. They knelt round the table, showing us
their penises. Their nude promise was my only reason for not screaming
out at once that I must be let go, released, sent home like the little girl I
felt, deep down, I still was. Oh, to be impaled on such cocks! Even
WalterÕs took my breath away, if I let myself concentrate just on his
member. They were all well-hung, and desperate, and I was wet to receive
them. ItÕs most unfeminine to discuss oneÕs feelings in such matters but,
reduced to a pair of wet panties, I couldnÕt help but think of giving myself
to their lust. They would take me, in any case. I had no doubt of that.
BridgetÕs games were only a way station to a ravaged fulfillment at their
hands.
ÒYou must drink your tea in a ladylike manner,Ó Bridget advised me.
I sipped. I gasped, not at the heat of the tea, but because as I leaned
forward to take a sip, my breasts tinkling with the bells hung upon them,
Bridget pressed a finger between my legs. She began massaging my slit
with it. ÒKeep your legs open,Ó she reminded me. ÒAlways you must be
ready for whatever might transpire.Ó
It was difficult to drink my tea with Bridget diddling her finger in
my slit. Beside me, I heard Amber gasp as the same trick was performed
on her sex. And Larissa, who had found SherryÕs breasts so comfy, so
reassuring, nonetheless was suffered to entertain her hostÕs digit in her
pussy.
The men had accepted being bound and facing into the wall. Now,
kneeling before us, watching us have tea, I could guess at their reason for
remaining compliant. Just beyond the tea table lay a large bed. It was a
bed on wheels and our Mistresses of Crime, Sherry and Bridget and Erika,
had taken advantage of the wheels on the big bed to roll it right up to our
tea table. It waited, like a promise, its covers already drawn back. It was
beautifully outfitted, with satin sheets and matching pillows. But I saw,
as did each of the other girls, gazing at it, cords upon the bed. They were
black. There was one tied to each bedpost. I could guess their use; one of
us, at least, was to be tied into the bed after we were done with our
delicate tea cups and our feminine party. We might sip like ladies, but we
would howl, I surmised, like banshees on that bed. Would we be tied face
down? Face up? I guessed it would be with legs wide apart, for the cords
at the bedÕs footboard were widely separated. The cords at the headboard
had the same amount of distance between them. Spread-eagled. That was
it, I saw. But still I didnÕt know whether it would be belly-down or
pussy-up. I trembled. My trembling made the bells on my breasts shake.
ÒOh, my! ItÕs way past little AmberÕs bedtime,Ó Erika said with a
smirk when weÕd all drunk our fill of tea. We girls, those of us who were
captives, had been made to drink tea till our tummies were sloshing. The
men got nothing, just watched, on their knees. Amber, hearing her name,
sighed with relief that she would have to drink no more tea. But at the
same time her head shot up, worriedly, her neck straightening out, for she
had seen the cords.
ÒIÕm not sleepy!Ó Amber said. ÒBut I will have to pee soon.Ó
ÒThen tonightÕs a good night for you to learn bladder control,Ó Erika
said. She patted AmberÕs head solicitously.
ÒIndeed,Ó Bridget agreed. Frantically Amber looked at me, then at
the men. I was sympathetic but the men were not. Their eyes glowed at
the prospect of seeing little 12-year-old Amber tied down to the bed with
a tummy full of tea.
ÒYeek!Ó Amber cried. She struggled. It was no use. Erika was tawny
and athletic and handled the girl easily. It only made Amber look more
childish to protest. A minute later, Amber was tied to the bed. Her back
pressed to it, her face looked pleadingly up at us. Bridget, standing over
the bed, admiring her, reached out and stroked the girl between her split-
apart legs. ÒOh! You shall make me have to pee!Ó Amber said. I marvelled
out how, despite her full belly, her tummy actually sank below the level of
her ribs. She was young, thin, with long, coltish legs, slim thighs, a
childish face. Only her bosoms gave her away as being something other
than a girl in primary school. They ballooned on her chest like ripe, round
fruit, a twin pair, each sprouting a nipple at its tip. I found myself
desiring to lick her cherry-tipped nipples and lick her cunny with my
tongue until it wet me.
It was good that my hands were tied behind me. I would have
fingered my slit, impulsively, gazing at such a young, tender creature,
spread out before me. Erika wasnÕt restrained. She indulged herself with
a finger up her cunt. Bridget did the same, as did Sherry.
ÒOh, how sweet she looks! I should wish to nurse her and protect her
and make her my own child!Ó Sherry exclaimed, both her motherly and
sexual instincts aroused simultanously as she looked at poor vulnerable
Amber. The men, wickeder in their plans, were kept from massaging their
aching pricks, or from pouncing upon her.
ÒAt least I still have my panties on!Ó Amber said. Her voice was
rueful. She didnÕt like being tied up and yet, I sensed, she was not utterly
averse to being the center of attention. We were all staring at her,
admiring every curve of her young, newly grown body. She had no reason
for embarrassment, she was tied up, and could no more have prevented our
admiration than if sheÕd been a babe in a crib. We blew kisses to her, we
complimented her, we spoke of her tits as if they were mounds of delight
and wished for a body as slim as hers. Despite her bonds, she blushed.
Then she wiggled and complained that she needed to visit the toilet.
ÒOh, IÕm afraid they forgot to put one in down here,Ó Bridget said,
with false sadness. ÒMorningÕs not too far away. Sleep tight. And donÕt
pee in your nice new satin sheets or Daddy will give you quite a whaling
for ruining them. Not to mention your Mommie.Ó
ÒI canÕt-- I have to go NOW!Ó Amber declared. She wriggled her hips
violently. Erika laughed. Bridget smiled, and displayed the multi-thonged
whip to the girlÕs eyes. ÒPlease!Ó Amber cried. Her eyes grew big as
saucers. Her pretty thighs tried to clamp upon each other but they were
wide-spread and firmly held by the cords. ÒOhhh, this is awful!Ó Amber
said at last, resigned to her fate and knowing it would cost her dearly
when her pee came spurting from her panty-clad nether lips.
ÒTickle! Tickle! Tickle!Ó Erika said. She didnÕt even have to touch
the girl to make fear run up her spine and her mouth gape. When she did,
Amber writhed like a small snake on the bed and howled.
ÒNoooooo! YouÕll make me peeeeeee!Ó Amber begged. The men
laughed at the outrageousness of it all.
ÒDonÕt wet your panties!Ó Jim cried.
ÒPerhaps sheÕd prefer that I eat them for her?Ó Walter said.
ÒNo! Panties are for wearing, not for eating!Ó Amber shouted. Erika
continued to tease her. The girl wrestled against her cords but couldnÕt
escape.
ÒTinkle, tinkle, Little Star-let,Ó Erika sang in a lilting voice. At the
same time, Bridget, reminding the girl of what awaited if she gave into
her natural impulses, dangled the gem-encrusted whip over the girlÕs face.
ÒOh! The jewels are so beautiful!Ó Amber cried. She gazed at them
with childish wonder. And then it happened. Staring at the whip, working
her hips against the diddling intrusing of ErikaÕs fingers, Amber suddenly
began peeing. We saw the crotch of her panties suddenly wetten. Then the
fluid escaped her lovely, stretched-tight garment and flooded the bed
between her legs and under her bottom.
ÒOoooooeeeeeek!Ó Amber blurted. I donÕt think she could believe, any
more than I actually could, that sheÕd wet the bed. She wriggled, trying to
stop. It was no use. Her legs were tied in a wide vee and she, feminine
creature though she was, had tea in her belly that was yearning to get out.
And so it did. She made a big, wet spot right in the center of the satin-
covered bed. When she finally shuddered to a conclusion she lay gazing at
us with fear-struck eyes.
ÒOh, my. My, my. Poor Amber,Ó Bridget said. ÒSuch a mess youÕve
made, girl!Ó
ÒI didnÕt know a little girl like her could hold so much pee in her
bladder,Ó Erika remarked.
Amber began crying.
ÒShhhh, we are only playing,Ó Sherry said. She leapt onto the bed,
next to AmberÕs head, where the pee had not, fortunately reached. She
glanced at the girlÕs hips, where there was a big stain, then back at her
face. She stroked the girlÕs cheek. AmberÕs sobs softened. She began to
hiccup.
ÒHold your breath,Ó Sherry told her. ÒNo hiccuping allowed in the
dungeon.Ó
ÒYou must put sugar under my tongue if IÕm - hiccup! - sÕposed to
stop -hiccup!- hiccuping,Ó Amber told her.
ÒLick my cunt. ItÕs sweet,Ó Sherry said. She straddled the girl. I
watched as her big bottom settled over AmberÕs chin. It swallowed it up
in its divide, leaving only her neck showing. I watched as AmberÕs neck
strained and then, to my surprise, moving forward slightly, I saw Amber
sticking out her tongue to lick the womanÕs snatch. A hiccup seized
Amber. Then, when it had passed, she began to dutifully lick at SherryÕs
slit.
ÒOh!Ó Sherry cried, delighted. Her large bosoms shook on her chest.
AmberÕs body sighed. Perhaps she hoped to avoid a whipping by bringing
plasure to one of her tormentors. Sherry clapped her hands behind AmberÕs
head. She lifted it from the bed. She begged the girl to tongue her more
deeply.
Amber obeyed. She licked for all she was worth as we gazed at her
slim, alluring form, at its suppleness, its lightness, and at the pee-soaked
panties which wreathed her hips. Mostly she was just skin and bones,
save for her sumptuous young titties. She was a perfect, albeit junior-
sized Barbi, laid out for our pleasure, naughtily wet between her
flamingo-like legs.
ÒAh, if only we could all be as young and innocent as she,Ó Bridget
said in the very first of her heartfelt statements of the evening. She let
the whip dangle aimlessly from her fingers.
ÒShe is truly lovely,Ó Erika agreed. ÒYoung, but lovely all the same.Ó
The men made less gallant comments. YouÕd have thought you were
in a restroom, listening to them.
When Sherry had taken her pleasure, she dismounted, rather
blushingly and awkwardly, from AmberÕs face. She stood beside me. She
kissed my cheek. ÒOne to be punished, and the other yet to be tested,Ó she
said, apparently in reference to Amber and myself. Larissa, forgotten,
shrank back from the women, hoping not to be missed. Jeff grinned at her.
ÒDonÕt forget Larissa,Ó he said.
ÒOhhhh, you!Ó Larissa scolded. Sherry laughed.
ÒSo many newcomers to be put to the test, I forgot my favorite
nurseling.Ó She walked over to the girl, oblivious to her own wet, post-
orgasmic snatch, and pressed my friend to her. Larissa resisted, then
relented. She tilted her head down and kissed SherryÕs right bosom.
ÒPlease, help yourself. My body is yours,Ó Sherry offered.
ÒMmmmm, thanks,Ó Larissa replied. She nibbled at a tit, perhaps
thought of biting it, then finally settled on sucking it instead. Sherry
gasped with pleasure. The men, watching, made desperate comments
about our beauty and their need to fuck it.
Amber was untied from the bed. Gently she was helped to her feet.
She stood contritely, eyeing the many-thonged whip. She let the women
pat her head. I admired her panties. They were still lovely, despite being
peed in. I looked at the wet spot in the satin sheets of the bed. It was her
mark. Her sign that she had been there.
ÒIt is time for your torture,Ó Bridget said to Amber. The girl
swallowed.
ÒPretend you are a heretic, and must be made to repent by the
inquistion,Ó Bridget suggested. Hardly helpful, I thought, a comment such
as that. It made butterflies rise in my tummy.
Amber, however, merely, said,
ÒWhatÕs a hair-tic?Ó
ÒSomeone who believes bad things,Ó Erika replied. She stroked the
girlÕs blonde mane.
ÒWell, I donÕt believe bad things, but I certainly *do* them,Ó Amber
answered. She shivered. I felt a sense of shock run through me. Was she
being complicit?
ÒYes, yes you do,Ó Bridget agreed. ÒBut I should so love it if youÕd be
a little heretic, and need to confess something,Ó Bridget said. She stroked
her jewel-tipped whip up the back of the girlÕs thighs, then over her
pantied ass, making the girl quiver. Her unadorned nipples jiggled upon her
breasts. My own bosoms, weighted down by the clips, shook out a quick
jingle as I felt a shudder run through me.
ÒWell I sÕpose I could think of something bad and then confess to
thinking that,Ó Amber said. She popped a finger contemplatively between
her lips. I watched, stunned, thinking she ought to run while she was
untied, her hands and feet free. She could dart out of the dungeon and,
despite the splash of whatever IÕd heard outside, probably swim to safety.
Instead, the attention sheÕd gotten, or something, made her stay, rooted
next to the bed, thinking of bad things to think, while the women,
beguilingly, paid her the utmost attention. I wondered why she was not
simply put over at once and punished. Bridget was strange, with her black
hair and sleek, VampireÕs body. She promised tortures, then skipped them,
keeping all of us, including me, on tenterhooks about what must happen to
us next. The men, conveniently bound, ached to spend. I gazed at their
hard cocks and would have dived to the floor to have them, or onto the
pee-stained bed, but knew theyÕd only consider me a slut for doing it, for
giving myself to them, and so I waited for direction from Bridget instead.
We all waited. She, I think, indulged herself minute by minute, with no
plan save her own personal pleasure.
ÒWhat was the first boy you ever did it with?Ó Bridget asked.
ÒOh! I could never tell that!Ó Amber said. There was a serious look
on her face. Despite all sheÕd been through, sheÕd suddenly placed in a
postion where she was not about to give.
Of course, that gave Bridget just the entry she was currently looking
for.
ÒThen you must tell us,Ó Bridget said. ÒAnd be tortured if you donÕt.Ó
ÒWhat?! ItÕs-- ItÕs my secret, and mine alone,Ó Amber protested.
She looked up at Bridget with her pug nose and her eyes defiant. ÒWho did
*you* do it with first, hmmmm?Ó she asked.
ÒI asked first,Ó Bridget replied smoothly.
ÒOh! IÕm not telling!Ó Amber cried. For in that moment Erika,
sensing an opportunity, had picked the 12-year-old up, and tossed her with
a lithe, quick movement over her shoulder. AmberÕs slim legs kicked.
Erika laughed. The womanÕs bosoms shook and AmberÕs tits, hanging down,
brushed over ErikaÕs. Both females grew more aroused, but it did not keep
Erika from hauling little Amber into the depths of the dungeon.
She was plopped down, wet panties and all, next to a medieval rack.
AmberÕs eyes widened. ÒI learned about these in school,Ó she said. ÒIn
histÕry.Ó Reverentially she ran her fingers along the surface of the rack.
It was a wooden machine but someone had taken the trouble of padding the
bed of the rack, where the victim was to lie, with leather. The leather
was well-polished.
Amber gazed at the chains waiting to bind hand and foot at either
end of the rack. The links looked old, as if used many times. But their
weakest link had not yet been found. AmberÕs bosoms stood out from her
chest, all round and perky. Her tummy dipped inward, just under her ribs,
and above her hips, giving her the look of being underfed. At her waistline
her legs began, stretching in slim columns down to her dainty feet. Her
wet panties clung to her hips. From the front I could see a few stray
wisps of her pubic hair where they escaped out the top of her too-small
panties. From behind, I saw most of her bottom, left uncovered by the
undies. Yet Bridget commented that she would have to lie nude upon the
rack.
ÒWe must bare ourselves before our Lord,Ó Bridget said. Erika
nodded, but had to put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. The men
looked on with hungry eyes. They would not save Amber from whatever
she got herself into.
ÒBe careful, Amber,Ó I thought to myself. She was getting
marvelous amounts of attention, but she was entirely on her own, and neck
deep in uncharted waters. Did she really wish to play a heretic in the
Inquisition?
ÒOh, IÕve had many bad thought,Ó Amber said reflectively.
ÒMmmm, I know you have,Ó Bridget agreed. She patted the girlÕs
bottom with her hand. Amber shivered. She gazed again at the big chains
mounted at the head and foot of the rack. At the large, spoked wheel that
would, or could, be used to stretch her to pieces if she should be unlucky
enough to find herself bound down upon the leather bed of the device. And,
gazing to the wall beyond, she saw several metal saws. They hung
innocuously from the wall, but one was reminded, upon seeing them, of
magical shows where poor girls have to get themselves cut in half.
Amber sat her pantied bottom down on the leather bench.
ÒOh, I think IÕm having a bad thought right now,Ó Amber confessed to
Bridget. The black-haired woman laughed.
ÒYouÕre not to confess so soon,Ó she said. She gave a flick of her
whip. ItÕs jeweled tips struck her thigh, lightly, but making her wince.
ÒWhat-- what should I do then?Ó Amber asked, wide-eyed.
ÒTell us the name of the boy you first did it with,Ó Erika suggested.
ÒOh, no. Not that!Ó Amber said, quite seriously.
ÒThen we have our answer,Ó Erika said to Bridget.
ÒYes,Ó Bridget agreed.
ÒBut it would be too embarr--Ó Amber began. She was seized by
both women, head and foot, and shoved down onto the bed of the machine.
ÒYook!Ó she cried, and quite honestly, I think, as she felt her wrists and
feet made fast to the device. When her screams had subsided, and the
women stepped back to admire their handiwork, Amber was once again
stretched out for us, this time on something that could make her shout
much more urgently than tickling her ever had. I found myself shaking,
could do nothing to stop it. The bells on my bosoms jingled. Bridget told
me to quiet myself or IÕd be punished. That was fruitless. It simply made
me more nervous, and my tits noisier. Bridget ignored my tinkling titties
for the moment, but my heart sank, for now IÕd earned my stripes, so to
speak, and knew I stood little chance of not having them applied. My ass
burned with the memory of my previous encounter with the whip. Its mark
was gone now, but hardly forgotten.
As if in anticipation of my transgression, and my need to be reproved
for it, male fingers grasped at the drawstrings of my panties. Quickly I
turned my head. My eyes darted back over my shoulder, fearful, seeking my
assailant. It was Jim! He grinned. I tried to suppress smiling in
response, found I couldnÕt. Oh, why would I smile at a man intent on
seeing me punished?
ÒJim, please...Ó I said. My voice quavered. I lost my thought as I felt
his big fingers on my hips. Gently he stroked my flaring thighs, savoring
their bell shape, and the tiny bit of stringy cloth wrapped about them. He
did not pull my panties apart at once, but rather savored how delicately
they clung to my hips, held there only by the feeblest of bow-tied strings.
Gradually he began to draw upon the ties of my undies. A tug. Another. A
third, and I felt my panties begin to give way. I gasped as they suddenly
came undone. They drooped. They fell. But a bit of the crotch material
was caught in my snatch. I looked down. I saw my panties, untied,
literally hanging by my cunt. Jim eased a hand between my thighs. He
grasped the small panties. He pulled. They popped out of my sex and fell
into his hand. He took my panties from me. I was left stripped completely
nude, save for the collar around my throat, the leash clipped to it, and the
metal handcuffs round my wrists. Plus the devilish nipple clamps that bit
at my titties. I expected then to be raped, or at least pawed and molested
by my manly thief. Instead, he touched me not at all, leaving me to shiver
in the nude, apprehensive, as AmberÕs punishment continued.
ÒMmmm, nice,Ó I heard a female voice say, somewhere behind me. I
recognized it as SherryÕs. Had she uncuffed Jim? With three females in
charge, there were endless possibilities. I wished to turn, to beg her to
untie me too, and most of all to get her away from Jim, so I could have
him to myself. Instead, worried about that jewel-encrusted cat oÕ nine
tails that Bridget kept gaily swinging about, I kept myself attentive to
her. She was the most dangerous, in my opinion. She was willing to
suffer, and to cause others to suffer in turn. And yet there was a certain
intiguing quality in that. Somewhere deep inside me I wished to be like
her, to be willing to suffer and to inflict suffering. Sexual suffering.
Long, drawn out, exectued with the best intentions. To give a strange kind
of pleasure, mixed with just the right tang of pain. Was pleasure
heightened when there was pain sprinkled in with it? I was beginning to
fear it was, and that I was desiring just that for myself. Oh, I was only
13! To have such thoughts at such a tender age! Yet Amber, little seventh
grader that she was, already had plumbed deeper depths. She wished, it
seemed, to have attention above all else, and was even willing to seek it
from Bridget. And from the randy men who, despite their bondage, or
sometime bondage, were complicit in BridgetÕs plans. I drew closer to
Amber, hoping perhaps to dissuade her, and thereby myself, from the
wicked things we were falling into. We would escape and be best friends
together, she and I, and confine our adventures in the cave to picking
flowers. The magical flowers sheÕd spoken of when first IÕd met her. Yes.
Just she and I. We would hold hands and explore the cave safely together,
fleeing at the first sign of danger. Ah, but it was too late. My legs
bumped against the leather-covered rack where she lay. I gulped. It was
too late, for us all. We were captives, at the mercy of masters we barely
knew.
Amber gazed up at us with large, liquid eyes. They looked like big,
round marbles, searching for God. SheÕd gotten her wish. She was the
perfect center of attention. We all crowded round her; myself, with my
jingling, bell-laden bosoms, Larissa (despite her desire to remain as
unnoticed as possible), Sherry, with her bosoms big as pumpkins, hanging
heavily on her chest and inviting, it seemed, a milking with their every
savory bounce. Next to her Erika, with her lanky, perfect body, beautiful
yet surprisingly athletic. Bridget, with her jewel-laden whip, sizing up
the pretty victim she and Erika had laid out for us all to see. I wished to
clap my hands to my cheeks. I wanted to cover my eyes, but due to my
cuffs I was not able to. Behind me I felt the throbbing cock of a man bump
my bottom. He crowded close to me. I guessed it was Jim. I gasped as his
dick invaded between my heinieÕs soft cheeks. But he hardly noticed, it
seemed. He was eager to look past me, to see Amber. She lay stretched
out before us. She quivered. I gazed upon her figure. She struck me as
utterly vulnerable and yet, somehow, utterly safe. Every nuance of her,
every breath, was noted by the close-pressed group. Nothing would happen
to her, nothing would be permitted to happen, without the groupÕs
approval. One could only hope they would be kind to her, and that the pain
they inflicted would be outweighed by pleasure.
ÒYes, little Amber, the rack. To make you tell,Ó Bridget said in a
soft, but ominous voice.
ÒOh no please donÕt--Ó Amber said. She wriggled upon the leather
padding. It was strange, seeing her lie there. The leather padding was
thick, comfy. And yet she was stretched out upon it, tight-stretched, her
hands and feet yanked to their limit.
Bridget swung the cat oÕ nine tails over AmberÕs body. The girl
shivered. She, truly, did not wish to tell us about her first love. Yet she
liked keeping a secret from us, that we might pay her the utmost
attention.
Bridget touched AmberÕs belly with her fingertip. Her nail gleamed
against the soft skin. She pressed it into the girlÕs flesh.
ÒOoh! You need to cut your nails,Ó Amber suggested. She winced at
the sharpness of the touch. Her nipples stood rigid upon her plump, bare
breasts.
AmberÕs breath quickened as Bridget, still touching her skin, trailed
her finger down to the girlÕs waist. Her panties clung there. They were
wet but still tied, still keeping her modest.
ÒYou must be nude before God on the rack,Ó Bridget said.
ÒNo-- please, they are just--Ó Amber began, but Erika placed a stiff
finger over her lips.
ÒShhhh,Ó Erika said. ÒWhen you wish to tell, simply tell. Otherwise,
keep quiet. Not a peep. We have gags for girls who...Ó Erika couldnÕt help
laughing. ÒPee.Ó
Strangely, Amber grew quiet. There was no sense in pulling her
panties down. Her legs were spread and the panties would have been
stretched beyond their limit in no time. Instead, they had to be untied, or
simply ripped off. Bridget grasped the white bows that formed the
pantiesÕ drawstrings. I marvelled at how much of AmberÕs bikini, very
similar to my own, was simply string; drawstring. Tied into a bow at her
hips. Only where her triangle of venus grew was there a patch of cloth,
and then only just a swatch, as if the tailor permitted it simply to rid
himself of a useless scrap. The same was the case in back, where her
bottomcheeks were left to hang freely, save for what little the
overstressed cloth could contain. Yet even this must be removed, for the
morsel of cloth, though small, kept our eyes from seeing her slit.
Like a mother undressing a babe, stripping off its too-small diapers,
Bridget tugged on AmberÕs bow-tied drawstrings. She held the whip as
she gave a tug, letting the girl feel it pressed to her hip, then drawing it
slowly away as her panties were undone.
ÒOoooh, I--Ó Amber began, but her voice died as she felt the chill of
the room invade her sex. She was wet, open. Our eyes peered at her bared
muff, her slit, wondered at the soft undercurve of her bottomcheeks were
they pressed into the leathered table.
ÒYes, gentlemen, there she is,Ó Bridget said. She lifted AmberÕs
panties into the air and gave them a ceremonial flourish. It was as if they
represented her hymen, though that had been taken already. Bridget looked
at Amber. ÒIf you were pregnant, I might beat the child out of you, with
this whip,Ó she said. She waved the jewelled cat before the girls eyes.
Each gem glistened, oblivious to the awful harm it could inflict. ÒBut you
are not,Ó Bridget said. ÒSo instead of flogging your stomach, I shall whip
your sex.Ó
I clapped my hands to my ears as the first shower of jewels was
brought to bear upon AmberÕs crotch. The girl screamed as IÕd never heard.
Bridget applied the whip gently, yet Ôsignificantly,Õ as she later told me,
so that the girl would not think her too soft.
What girl wouldnÕt love to have such jewels? Diamonds, rubies,
sapphires; all real, all natural. Yet to have them in such a way, impressed
upon oneÕs sex, how horrid!
ÒYes, dear, I know it hurts,Ó Bridget said, flinging the whipÕs
expensive jewels down on AmberÕs pussy. ÒIt is meant to. And no one can
hear you, down here. So indulge yourself. Scream as if your life depended
on it. God knows, your sex certainly does!Ó
When Bridget had given Amber several lashes, she chose to show
mercy. She ordered Erika to find something to cool AmberÕs wounded slit.
Perhaps she knew in advance what Erika would choose. It was wicked. It
was Redi-Wip, fetched from a cool hole in the ground at the back of the
dungeon. The hole contained ice. I guessed it had been brought in, hours
before, by the men. The ice, and the cool whip. The latter was applied in
short bursts until it completely covered little AmberÕs muff. Then each
man, unshaven though he was, was permitted to lick between her legs
until the Redi-Wip was all gone.
ÒNot bad for a damaged cunt,Ó Jim remarked cruelly. Amber was
sobbing, pleading to be let up, but no one paid her any attention, except
Larissa and myself, and we were bound, and torn between the eroticism of
her suffering and its wickedness.
The whip was applied again, this time to the flatness of AmberÕs
belly. Each stroke made her jerk, cry out, beg. Like an animal she begged,
but it only made Bridget harder in the application of her whip. Red lines
appeared across the smooth expanse of AmberÕs tummy. Sharp lines,
marks that were more deeply made than those that had been placed within
the split of her legs. Each time the jewelled tips hit they left tiny, deeper
marks of their own.
When Bridget commanded it, Erika squirted whipped cream across
AmberÕs belly. They were long, loving bursts, able to cover a wider
expanse of skin. Then the men fed in her navel and licked her entire
tummy clean. Amber watched, sobbing, over the rising, falling nudity of
her breasts.
We all dreaded what must happen next. Her bosoms. Her upstanding,
perfect nipples had to taste the whip. She had such lovely, young bosoms.
I pleaded with Bridget to put me in her place. I didnÕt wish to see her
beautiful young teats marred, even at the risk of my own.
ÒNo, my dear. Each to her own,Ó Bridget smiled.
ÒYes! I did it with my -hiccup!- my foist cousin!Ó Amber wailed. It
was truly a wrenching, heartfelt wail, and for a moment BridgetÕs face
showed disappointment. She hadnÕt given a damn who the girl had slept
with first. She had wanted to test her skill with the whip on her bosoms.
Striking them, hurting them, yet not making them bleed. A jewelled cat
could inflict serious injury if not applied with just the right finesse.
ÒSo you choose to rat on your cousin, eh?Ó Bridget asked, hoping to
revive the need for punishment.
Erika, however, bent over the girl and clapped a tender hand to her
cheek and kissed her lips. ÒOh you poor, poor dear. How much youÕve
endured. And for a cousin? I did it first with my first cousin too. At a
picnic. Get up, silly. All that for a cousin!Ó At once Erika, shedding a tear
for all little Amber had suffered, reached for her wrists. She began
untying them.
ÒThere are other breasts,Ó Bridget said. She eyed me.
ÒYou have proven your merit. Put that awful thing away before you
truly hurt someone with it,Ó Erika scolded Bridget.
ÒI should use it on your ass,Ó Bridget retorted.
Calmly, still untying Amber, Erika gazed at Bridget, tossed back her
blonde hair and said, ÒI could take you, dear, if I had to. And you know it.Ó
Bridget tossed down the jewelled whip upon the stone floor.
ÒHey! ThatÕs expensive!Ó Walter cried.
ÒSoÕs my pussy!Ó Amber managed to say, though her face was hidden
under Erika, who was bent over her, untying her wrists. I bent forward and
examined the girlÕs dell. It was red-marked, no doubt of that. Little
whip-printed lines covered the insides of the girlÕs thighs, right up to her
sex, and upon the soft, moist tenderness of her labial lips. I prayed her
clit, hidden somewhere in her curls and within her lips, had escaped the
whipÕs touch. I pressed my face to her muff. I planted a kiss within it.
ÒOooh! Amber cried. I began to lick her. She tasted sweet.
ÒForgive me. I must,Ó Jim said. It is to his credit, I think, that he
was able to surprise me, despite his tied hands, with a sudden,
upthrusting of himself between my legs and into my cunt. The head of his
cock rammed up; I shouted, so surprised was I, then I gasped prettily. He
grunted. He was surprised himself, I think that he had aimed his organ so
well at my dell. I had my legs open a bit already, so as not to win
punishment for modesty. Now I spread them more. I returned my tongue to
AmberÕs cunt and feigned helplessness at my fate.
ÒOh, you beast!Ó Bridget, who was not impaled, cried. Did she wish
to suffer my fate? It was I who bore the discomfort of it. Jim shoved,
hard, and paid no heed at all to my virginal tightness. I shrieked as his
organ split me apart. I was riven like a tortured prisoner, forced to sit on
a spit.
Another shove. Another. My twat was filled. Gasping, I managed
somehow to put my face back upon the small comforting triangle of
AmberÕs muffin. I kissed her curls there. She sighed. I invaded her
wetness with my tongue. It was nothing compared to Jim, piercing me to
my core with his cock, but it made her shout in a quivering cry of joy.
Jim fucked me. There is no ladylike way to put it. No modest way
for a schoolgirl of 13 to state it, save to say, Ôhe fucked me.Õ He drew
back, relieving me a little of the pressure of his being, only to jam
himself up me again. He was, indeed, an animal. Like a horse in a barn. I
was his new mare. I tried to console myself by making Amber shout with
invasions of my tongue into her nest. We screamed our way to orgasm.
She honeyed my tongue, quite thoroughly. I received a deluge of JimÕs
juice up my quim.
Yet the games were to continue. Bridget picked up her jewelled cat.
She looked at me. I straightened up, my bosoms jingling, hurting from
bouncing so much under the strain of fucking, whilst hung with bells. I
licked the honey from AmberÕs cunt off my lips. I realized BridgetÕs eyes
were on me and blanched.
At the time, though the clamps on my titties weighed upon me, and
made me sore, I didnÕt realize IÕd been more ÔdecoratedÕ than Ôclamped.Õ
They were just tight enough to keep them on, and me mindful of them,
while not being any tighter. Clamps can be adjusted, and mine had been
fixed to my titties in the lightest of the adjustments. In this way, since
clamps do reduce blood flow, I was able to wear them as long as I did.
Now Bridget determined to free my tits, but only to whip them. That I
could tell just by looking into her eyes. SheÕd been deprived of AmberÕs
breasts. She wished, as IÕd promised, to have mine in substitution.
Frantically I looked at Jim. He only grinned in response. Men! HeÕd
just had my cunt, yet now he would not even help me avoid a tit-lashing! I
turned my gaze to Erika, but she was too busy getting Amber untied. SheÕd
waited Ôtil I finished fucking her with my tongue to get her undone. A
victim must have some pleasures, I suppose, and having your wrists bound
while a friend licks your cunny must, if trust is there, be one of lifeÕs
better pleasures. Or at least one of its wetter ones. That she had so
recently relieved herself there, wetting her panties, had not even crossed
my mind, I was so intent on consoling her.
Now I was to be punished, and none stepped forward to save me, not
even Nick. Bridget came to me and removed the first of my nipple clamps.
I howled as the blood, decreased in volume, returned to my teat. Ah, how
it hurt! And the worst of all, as I danced around, shouting at the pain of it,
was that, with one clamp remaining, I knew I must endure it all a second
time.
As I stood sobbing, gazing down at my naked tit, checking its
condition as best I could, Bridget removed my other clamp. Again I went
into a kind of nude, handcuffed rain dance. I cried. Erika and a newly
released Amber calmed me with kisses and dried my tears.
ÒMy titties hurt!Ó I said ruefully.
ÒAlligators and alligator clips tend to do that, dear,Ó Erika said. Her
voice was nonplussed.
ÒAre they alright?Ó I asked of my nipples.
ÒTheyÕre fine,Ó Erika said.
ÒYouÕre just saying that,Ó I answered. She held me still. I hiccuped.
She bent and kissed each of my nipples in turn. I shouted, winced. But
each kiss was long and as she suckled my teats, one at a time, they began
to feel better. Amber helpfully rubbed my cunt with her fingers.
ÒYouÕre sticky,Ó Amber said, feeling up between my legs.
ÒOf course IÕm--Ó I gasped. I hiccuped. Amber giggled.
ÒYouÕve caught my hiccups,Ó she said.
ÒJust so I donÕt catch that whip that connected with your muffin,Ó I
said.
ÒAh, it is too harsh for the bosoms, in my opinion,Ó Erika said. I
sighed. ÒBut that doesnÕt mean they can be spared,Ó she added. ÒYou did
promise--Ó she kissed one of my tits, lovingly, possessively.
ÒMmmmm,Ó I breathed. Bridget stepped behind me and patted my
bottom. ÒThis will be good also,Ó she said.
With mincing steps I was led on a tour of the dungeon. Bridget
wanted to find something to punish me on. She led me along with her,
pulling me by my leash, as one leads a pet. With my hands cuffed behind
me, I could do little to stop her. Hopefully I glanced at Amber, for help.
She was loose, looking a little like a small pet herself, but without
restraints binding her any more, without even her panties. They lay
crumpled under the rack where sheÕd been stretched. Perhaps they would
be left behind, a souvenir for other, future visitors. I still remembered
BridgetÕs scheme to have Larissa and myself compete in jamming dildos up
our bottoms. My eyes darted to Larissa. She was submissive. She gazed
at the floor. I saw she was feeling the effects of the tea in her belly for
her hips were wiggling excessively. My own tummy felt full, and I
quivered. I had to pee too! Oh, I didnÕt want to do it in front of them, and
yet, how could I not? I felt wicked, silly, both at the same time. I let my
hips sway expansively. A shiver ran down my spine, shook the hinds of my
bottom.
ÒDo you have to pee?Ó Bridget asked me bluntly. I flushed red with
embarrassment.
Òmmmmm, yes,Ó I finally admitted. I wished I could clap a hand to
my cunny to hold myself in but my wrists were still locked behind my
back, tight in the cuffs. I tugged at them. They wouldnÕt give.
ÒHow delightful,Ó Bridget remarked. ÒBut we must continue our
tour.Ó She tugged on my leash. I was pulled forward. I stumbled. JimÕs
hand darted out and caught me. I looked at him. My eyes were wide. They
showed worry. He smiled.
ÒEnjoy it,Ó he said. He touched a finger to my bosom. He trailed it in
a tight circle around one of my nipples, newly released from the clamps.
It was stiff. He tickled it. I winced, fearfully, but felt only pleasure.
ÒFeel the need for relief course through you and hold it and savor it,Ó he
said. ÒDoesnÕt your school start again soon?Ó he asked.
I nodded.
ÒSo, you will be back in school soon,Ó he said. ÒI can just imagine
you in a soft, pullover sweater. And it will be cold, not warm like it is
now. And there will be books, and homework, and lessons,Ó he said. He
traced a circle round my other nipple. ÒBut for now, for these few
minutes, there is just you. And us. And you are free and you need--Ó
In deference to me he did not state what I needed to do.
ÒYes,Ó Jim said. He stroked my flat belly. He passed his hand lower
and tugged at a wisp of my pubic hair. ÒGaze around you,Ó he said. ÒDo not
be afraid. You and the other girls have been quite brave so far. Hold up a
little longer, and I will rescue you in the end, I promise.Ó
I gazed at JimÕs penis. It had come up swiftly again, after his first
discharge. Already he was ready to take me again. I smiled, blushed. I
turned from him. Bridget pulled again on my leash. I was drawn deeper
into the dungeon.
Hooks and chains dangled loosely in the dungeon, waiting for victims
to bind. I passed under some, stood beside machines bedecked with others.
I saw a bondage bench, guessed at its use. One might be bent over it, or lie
upon it. A crank underneath it could raise or lower it so the bent female
might be made to stand with her legs bent, or straight, as her master
wished. Near it, incongrously, was a table for medical exams. I gazed at
the two metal stirrups sticking out from the tableÕs base. They waited to
receive my feet. Bridget had only to lead me there. Or perhaps I would
visit the dentist. A dental chair stood in a corner, with equipment for
filling cavities. I might be made to lie nude in it, striving to contain my
pee, while Bridget played oral games with me. Near that another chair
stood. It hung from the ceiling. It was a big rattan chair reminiscent of a
bucket seat in a sports car. But there was a big hole cut in the base of the
chair, where oneÕs bottom promised to fall through. Underneath the hole a
wide range of dildos stood ready for use. Behind them a box of kleenex
waited, in case the poor victim had a bowel movement while she sat in the
chair, I supposed. A suppository and a bottle of castor oil sat on the floor
near the dildos.
Casting my eyes farther afield, I spied a barber pole. Next to it sat a
big leather barberÕs chair. There was a hairdryer poised on a small table
next to the chair. Beside the hairdryer was a big, battery-operated
vibrator. The table also possessed a razor and a can of shaving cream.
One might lose more than just oneÕs modesty down here in this dungeon, or
oneÕs clothes. I shivered. I didnÕt want my muff shaved. IÕd just grown
hair on it, within the past year. I didnÕt want my sex made to look like a
little girlÕs again. I looked at Amber. She had a fleecier sex than myself,
hers only just grown in lately. She grinned. She was loose as a cat,
wearing only her collar. I looked away. In her happiness she seemed to be
looking forward to seeing me punished.
I tripped along behind Bridget. Her eyes danced as she pointed out
all the different instruments of torture to me. I felt everyoneÕs eyes upon
me. They watched me react, savored my blushes. Where my swimsuit
normally was my skin showed white. My nipples, sprouted, wiggled their
tips freely in the air. My bush displayed itself to their inquiring eyes. My
pussy lips, snug between my legs, wettened in anticipation of more
intimate surveys. I glanced at the menÕs cocks. They saw my glance and
grinned like cats observing a parakeet. I would endure each of them up my
twat this evening, I knew, my tummy sinking. Jim was my favorite, but he
would insist on sharing me with his friends.
Worst of all, looking away from the randy men and back at all the
tortuous items the dungeon possessed, I knew none of us would leave this
place without marks upon our body. We must have souveniers. They need
not be permanent, but they needed, I knew, to be painfully applied. It was
the essence of the place. I suppressed a desire, suddenly upwelling, to see
the men shout as their asses were flayed, making their cocks bobble like
loose swords. Finally I could stand it no more. I asked Bridget to stop,
almost at random, before a machine whose evil I could only guess at.
I swallowed. I looked at the machine, at Bridget.
ÒThis one,Ó I said. I felt brave in saying it. I had no idea what the
machine did. I shut my eyes. I swallowed again. I would have patted my
chest, so nervous did I feel, but the restraints on my wrists made my
hands captive behind my back.
ÒAh, such an Amazon!Ó Bridget complimented me.
ÒWhat is it called?Ó I asked, my voice quavering, my eyes opening to
regard anew my choice. It was a large and looked like a gallows. Two
upright posts rose from the floor. They supported a crosspiece. One might
stand between the posts, and be hanged, for all I knew.
ÒThis is a ÔNatural Birthing TreeÕ,Ó Bridget told me. I felt myself
exhale and a sense of relief came over me. Well, it was a womanly
machine, then. Perhaps I had little to fear. I would not, at least, be
swinging from it by my neck.
ÒAnd?Ó I paused. I was afraid to ask, yet suddenly dying of
curiousity. I wanted to have a baby someday. Would I need one of these?
ÒKiss me to show youÕre ready to proceed. Then youÕll find out, as
we strap you into it, how itÕs used,Ó Bridget replied coyly. I glanced at
her breasts, so incongrously large on her slender, modelÕs body. Then I
looked up into her eyes again. I did not know what to do. Should I trust
her? I felt a shudder in my tummy. It made my hips wiggle. I had to go to
the bathroom quite badly!
ÒOh, yes!Ó I said. I stood on tiptoe, my hands still restrained behind
me, and pressed my breasts to hers. My chin lifted. My lips sought hers.
She tilted her head down to meet me and we kissed. Her tongue pressed
apart my lips and invaded my mouth. ÒOh!Ó I breathed. I drew back. Our
kiss was broken. I had sensed lust in her mouth, her tongue. A manÕs sort
of lust, except she was all woman. How strange.
ÒIÕm ready,Ó I said, trying to avoid blushing again.
ÒVery well,Ó Bridget said. She gestured at two sturdy-looking milk
crates placed against the inside of each of the upright posts. ÒMount up.Ó
Anxiously I stepped forward, between the two posts. Then, with
Bridget steadying me, her hand on my bare hip, I stepped up onto one of the
crates. I glanced at the other one. It was separated by the one I was
standing on by a good three feet. I would spread myself quite wide, if I
was to actually stand up upon that other crate, while still keeping my foot
placed on the first.
ÒMount up,Ó Bridget told me again. She nudged my bottom with the
handle of her cat. She placed a hand to my back, steadying me, lest I fall,
for I was still cuffed.
I drew in my breath. I lifted up my other leg. I placed it on the
crate. Ah, how spread apart I felt! I was straddling two widely-separated
crates. I felt like Wonder Woman but, I suppose, I was a captive Wonder
Woman, due to my handcuffs.
ÒVery good,Ó Bridget said. I hoped she might uncuff me. Instead, she
unfastened a long rope that was wrapped round one of the posts. I
swallowed. Was that meant for my throat? As I gaped at it, Bridget slung
it under one of my arms. She lifted the end of the rope and wrapped it
around a hook high up on the post. She had to stand up on one of the crates
with me to do it and it was then I realized the crate was firmly bolted
into the floor. When the rope was secure, Bridget got down. But she
immediately went to the other post and undid a rope there and put it under
my other arm.
Standing before them, my body slung up by twin ropes, I shivered. My
bosoms wobbled freely on my chest. I looked down at my taut nipples.
Why were they so excited, when I was being displayed like a roast mutton
in the market? The ropes rubbed me under my arms but, thankfully, they
were sheathed in rubber where they made contact with my body.
I felt my breath inhaling and exhaling. Each movement of my lungs
made my bosoms quaver. I felt like an animal, about to be served, eaten.
Suddenly my head was yanked back by my hair. Someone forced a gag into
my mouth and tied it behind my head. I yelped, tried to protest, but the
gag shoved my tongue back so far into my mouth that I could barely utter a
sound. Tears sprang to my eyes. My bosoms juddered ripely on my chest.
ÒBe brave,Ó I heard Bridget say from somewhere behind me.
Erika, nude as myself but without restraints, pranced over to a table.
It had various sexual items on it. I averted my eyes. In my condition,
exposed as I was, I couldnÕt bear to contemplate the possibilities inherent
in my new position.
Returning with a feather, Erika handed it to Bridget.
ÒThank you, Erika,Ó Bridget said. She looked at the men. She passed
the feather underneath the erect glans of the nearest one.
ÒWhoa! YouÕll make me sperm the air!Ó Walter cried. Despite his
protest, Bridget passed the feather under NickÕs penis as well. He was as
hard as Walter and the feather, so light, so soft, tickling his cock made
him shudder.
ÒI canÕt hold on if you do that to me,Ó Nick warned in a breathless
voice. Bridget smiled. Jim was unrestrained, but she placed a hand on his
bare hip and passed the feather under his sturdy penis as well.
ÒAh, nice,Ó Jim answered. HeÕd shot off once, in me, and was better
able to enjoy his erection now, having taken the edge off his sexuality.
ÒNow, gentlemen,Ó Bridget said, regarding our nude male companions.
ÒAnd you are ever gentlemen, tonight, I see, though you got out of hand
with me the last time we were in here,Ó she added. ÒKeep your bearing
proud, kingly. DonÕt shudder so when I pass a mere feather under your
cock. Does it torture you? Tut. tut. To think what martrys went through,
in the Inquisition, and you men canÕt even entertain the pleasure of a
simple feather without begging me to stop.Ó She smiled. ÒBut be that as
it may, weÕre going to make some honey to reward you three for being so
nice and hard. I know its difficult, retaining your seed under trying
circumstances. DonÕt think IÕm not proud of you. Now, you may ask, what
sort of honey? Why, natural honey is the best, of course. And IÕll bet my
feather can make some, right here,Ó Bridget said. She turned to me. She
walked over to me and touched the tip of the feather to my slit.
ÒAhkkk!Ó I cried within my gag.
ÒSee? SheÕs wetting my feather with honey already,Ó Bridget told
the men. ÒHow cooperative she is. But she must needs pee soon. Come and
lick up the honey between her legs, before she spoils it by peeing through
these pretty cuntlips of hers.Ó
The men needed no further invitation. Though two of them were
cuffed, as I was, nonetheless they came forward and crowded in around
me. At once Bridget withdrew her feather. The men nuzzled their
unshaven faces between my legs. I gasped, wrenched. I could do nothing
to stop them. I was splayed, my legs quite well apart, my sex exposed.
They attacked me with their tongues.
My eyes rolled in my head. I sought help, gazing first at Erika, then
the other girls, but no one tried to intervene to save my modesty. Little
Amber, seeing me, actually broke out into giggles. She covered her face
with her hands. Erika scolded her. Yet she giggled on and on, watching me.
I wriggled atop the men. I must have looked like a dancer. My chest
heaved. My bosoms bounced. My derriere ground against the air. I was
bare, nude, and now utterly defiled. Like hungry, rooting pigs the men
shoved their hungry tongues up into my twat. I was made to gasp, to shout
within my gag and, finally, blushing as I did it, I was made to orgasm.
My honeyed climax did nothing to abate the menÕs evil appetite. They
hunched below my pelvis and continued their attack. I spasmed, came
again. A third time. A fourth. And as I rode from hip-waggling climax to
climax, I felt my need to pee increase.
ÒDo not pee on the menÕs faces, you dirty girl,Ó Bridget warned me.
She reached out and tickled my titties with her feather. I began crying,
my pleasure and torment were so intense. And then, collared and bound
and spread like a turkey, I tried to shout.
I was going to pee. I could feel the need increasing inside me with a
frantic, unstoppable urgency. I was a child again, in preschool, waking
from a long nap and running to the bathroom. Except I was tied, and could
go nowhere. I didnÕt even know where the bathroom was down here in this
awful dungeon.
It proved to be the menÕs mouths.
ÒAck! SheÕs peeing on me!Ó Walter cried suddenly. Nick echoed his
surprise. Jim, shouting, opened his mouth wider and received my feminine
tribute. The other two men withdrew, shocked, surprised, and telling Jim
to take his face away from me lest Ôthat bitch turn you into a human
toiletÕ!
They were jealous, I think. For the next embarrassing minute, Jim
and I shared the most intimate moment I ever have yet shared with a man.
I peed. He received. My pee overflowed his swarthy face and went running
down his chest. It gathered in the bush of his pubic hair. It ran in rivulets
along his stiff penis and dripped off the end of it. We were one. I peed and
he seemed to, with me pee making its way to the tip of his cock, and
thence to the floor.
ÒSuch a bad girl!Ó Bridget said when at last Jim took his face away
from my cunt. At once I felt her cat connect with my bottom. Where a
moment before JimÕs tongue had assauged me, now the cat came inquiring.
Its jewelled tips bit into my sex. I screamed. My eyes sought help from
Jim but he merely stood back, accepted a handkerchief from Erika, and
wiped off his mouth.
ÒAhhhhddkdk!Ó I cried in my gag. The cat struck again. Its sinuous,
curling cords came sweeping up between my legs and peppered my sex
with stinging, hard-edged jewels. I was being expensively assaulted, but
assaulted nonetheless. New tears sprang to my eyes. I wondered how
Amber had managed to bear up under such a wicked attack.
The cat struck again. This time it scorched my bottom. Its tips
explored the divide between my cheeks. They found my anus, stung it. I
shrieked within my gag. I grabbed at my bottomcheeks as best I could
with my hands. Bridget took hold of my cuffed wrists and yanked them up.
My fingers slipped off my bottom. I felt the bareness of my ass, and then
at once the cat, covering it, so briefly, with a pass of its leather thongs.
ÒAckghghkkk!Ó How horrid it was! I couldnÕt defend myself. I could
only weep, scream, try to shout. I worked my mouth but the gag blocked
all but the most gutteral of sounds from escaping. I was, truly, an animal,
strung up, denuded, being basted now by the fire-tipped thongs.
Bridget relented when she chose to, and when the condition of my
bottom, well-striped, demanded it, lest she break my skin. That wasnÕt to
happen, but only for a reason so wicked I half-wished she had chosen Ôto
drawÕ, as IÕve since learned its called, when the whip master chooses to
hit you so hard you bleed.
I hung exhausted from the ropes. My chin fell to my chest and rested
there. With half-lidded eyes I regarded my bosoms. My nipples, despite
all my pains, still stuck up like twin little thorns. My bottom cheeks
throbbed from the basting theyÕd taken. My sex burned. And, strangely, it
wettened itself still, as if excited by all IÕd been through. Had the men
attacked me again, IÕm sure I could have served them honey anew.
ÒYes, men, we must put your straws back in. How long they are!Ó
Bridget said somewhere behind me. I paid no mind. What happened to the
men was no business of mine. Or so I thought.
Erika came up to me and kissed my cheek.
ÒYou are doing very well,Ó she breathed in my ear. ÒYou will make a
good mother someday, when you have to bear up under much more pain to
have your first child.Ó
ÒAckghlg,Ó I answered. My gag blocked all speech. Erika kissed me
again. ÒWould you like something warm and wet to soothe your poor
bottom?Ó she asked me.
Vaguely I managed to nod.
ÒVery good,Ó Erika answered.
ÒMen, you look so enormous with those straws stuck into your
cocks,Ó Bridget declared. ÒYouÕre big already, and then to have ten inch
straws sticking out of yourselves, how delicious! Now, if you please, Miss
Bambi here would like something warm and wet for her poor, spanked
bottom. Please relieve her suffering. And yourselves.Ó
My head shot up off my chest. My bosoms joggled on my chest. My
hips launched forward, but, since I was constrained between the posts,
fell back again. Did Bridget mean what I think she meant? My eyes gaped.
I noticed Amber was looking at me and giggling uncontrollably again.
ÒYeeeeeeek!Ó I shouted within my gag. For, suddenly, three unwanted
streams of male pee struck my bottom. In unison. Like a fountain. I was
inundated by Jim, Nick, and Walter. They hollared out their delight at
turning me into a human urinal. I could only scream in reply, and work my
limbs, fruitlessly, which made my bosoms bounce on my chest and my
bottomcheeks flex. I was told later I looked most alluring, trying to
escape the pee by dancing around like that, between the sturdy posts. The
men gave me the entire contents of their bladders. They held back nothing.
All of themselves was exuberantly pissed across the scorched cheeks of
my ass. Amber, watching, giggled her seventh graderÕs head off.
ÒAnd now for the titties,Ó Bridget said when the men had relieved
themselves and retired. She sounded like a surgeon, saying it. Detached.
Uncaring, almost, as if I were only meat, pink and warm and wet, strung up
for whatever needs be done with me. I feared she might fetch a knife, and
cut me, she sounded so clinical. Butterflies rose in my tummy and, deeply
blushing already, I felt myself almost faint. Erika darted up to me, placed
a hand to my forehead. At last, seeing me recover a little, she turned her
head and nodded to Bridget.
The raven-haired woman walked up to me. Bridget was not carrying
a knife. But, as I gazed with a bit of relief at her hand, I felt a new fear
seize me. Though it wasnÕt sharp, the implement she held aloft in her hand
had an ominous look about it. It was long, and straight, and there was
something small and round at its tip. Innocuous-looking enough, but it
reminded me of something IÕd seen, somewhere... where? In a film at
school? Suddenly I remembered. It had been a film about cattle. And
theyÕd been moved about in their herding stalls with an item just like
Bridget now held.
ÒYes, darling, your nipples are so nice and young and perky,Ó Bridget
said, gazing at my tits. ÒHow nice. But you never know, they might be
longer still, and sharper. More erotic even than you can imagine.
Provided,Ó Bridget smiled. ÒProvided they get a little help in their
growing, hmmm? A little stimulation. This cattle prod should do the
trick.Ó
Gently she touched the tip of the rod to my right nipple. I screamed.
An electrical charge jolted my tit. I gasped. New streams of tears sprang
from my eyes. I gazed at her bug-eyed, frightened out of my wits.
ÒYes, we do cause a few growing pains with this method, but then
nothingÕs without a price,Ó Bridget smiled. I was in agony. How dare that
woman put a cattle prod to my tits? As if reading my thoughts, she
touched my belly button. I jerked. She grinned. ÒYes, I can touch more
than your nipples with this, canÕt I?Ó Bridget asked. She gazed down at my
thighs. ÒAnd how about between your legs? Is there anything for me to
touch down there? A button, perhaps?Ó
ÒYeeeeeeoooooch!Ó I tried to cry, gagging on my gag as I screamed.
She had touched the cattle prod to my clit. She nestled it again in my slit
and found me once more. I shrieked.
ÒAnd behind? Between the cheeks of your bottom? Do you have a
little hole back there for me?Ó Bridget asked. Wickedly she slipped behind
me and stuck the prod up into my ass. I yelled, hard, feeling the wicked
thing as it touched my anus.
Bridget passed round to my front again. She touched my other nipple.
I responded, crying and yelling into my gag. She touched my right nipple
again. I screamed, but it was no use. I was at her disposal.
ÒYou are so sweet,Ó Bridget said. ÒHow you jump when I touch you.
Perhaps you shall be my servant, hmmm? My lover-servant. Yes. YouÕre
so responsive, my dear, IÕd be remiss not to hire you.Ó
When at last I was taken down from the posts, I collapsed. Jim
caught me. I hardly felt it was heroic, though, for he hadnÕt saved me from
the least bit of torture. He kissed me. I turned my face away, exhausted.
I felt like jelly, a jelly fish. He carried me to the bed in the dungeon and
tossed me down upon it.
30
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