---------------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SULTRY SPRING
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Twelve
I gazed up at the trees and admired their fullness. They were rich
and green. Their shade cooled me as I passed under them. I held my auntÕs
hand. In my other hand I carried my purse. It was soft and fuzzy and it
contained my sticker collection.
My aunt wore a slip dress. It was canary yellow. It left her back
and shoulders bare. From her fingertips to her naked shoulders and down
the length of her back, it allowed her to show off her new tan. The only
break in the glossy expanse of her sun-browned skin were the two slender
straps, yellow like her dress, that passed over her shoulders. The dress
was short; beneath its hem, which fell only to the mid-point of her thighs,
her legs jutted forth, slim columns of tanned flesh. My aunt walked on
high heels; expertly, I thought, for I still found heels difficult and
preferred my sneakers.
I was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. My sweatshirt said
ÒHarvard PreschoolÓ on it. It got looks from men; they would notice the
word ÒHarvardÓ, turn, then see ÒPreschoolÓ written after it and stand
there puzzled, not sure if I was a college babe or an untouchable child.
We turned off the leaf-shaded esplanade and into a store. It was a
lingerie store. A small bell rung when we pushed through the door. Inside
the air was scented; the lights were low and candles burned. I saw racks
of thong panties and lace bras, beyond that lace-trimmed basques and
bustiers.
ÒI donÕt need any panties, auntie,Ó I said, wishing we could go to the
sticker store. I wanted to expand my collection. IÕd heard there were
some new Leonardo DiCaprio stickers out. Not that I didnÕt have some
already, but these were new, and I liked anything new.
ÒWe will, darling,Ó my aunt said. She squeezed my hand. I smiled at
her. We felt very close. My parents were almost forgotten, it seemed. I
hoped they would not ask me to come home at the end of the summer.
ÒWhy, hello,Ó a womanÕs voice said. She was about 25. She stepped
out from behind a rack of baby-doll nighties. They rustled softly as she
slipped past them. They were silk. Everything I saw was silk; either made
from it or trimmed with it. Then I spotted a rack of the storeÕs shopping
bags, unopened, waiting for purchases to be placed in them. The name of
the store was printed on them and it was ÒSilk StationÓ.
ÒMay I help you?Ó the woman asked. She was dressed in a flowing
lace dress. It was beige. It had long sleeves and a full skirt. She wore
her hair loose. It feel over her small, lace-covered shoulders and spread
in a silky cascade across the width of her back. She looked small,
vulnerable, cocooned in her dress, in her little store by the seaside, with
the big trees out front protecting her storefront from the sun. There was
a lace ribbon in her hair. She reached up and touched it lightly; adjusted
it. I read nervousness in her eyes. Gently she put down a paperback book
sheÕd been reading, on top of a rack of thongs, balancing it carefully so it
wouldnÕt fall on the floor. ÒPoems by Emily DickinsonÓ the bookÕs cover
said. I wondered if it contained all poems about lace.
ÒOh, we are just looking,Ó my aunt said.
ÒOh thatÕs fine,Ó the woman apologized. She touched her ribbon in
her hair again and then picked up her book. She turned to walk away. I
tugged on my auntÕs hand.
ÒI want to get those Leonardo stickers, auntie!Ó I said.
The woman turned again to regard us. She gave me a warm smile.
ÒDo you like Leonardo?Ó she asked me.
ÒOf course,Ó I said proudly.
ÒI like him too,Ó she said. Her voice was a purr. ÒI have some
stickers of him. Would you like to see them?Ó
ÒOh please auntie, may I?Ó I asked.
ÒAlright,Ó my aunt said.
The woman and I walked to the small desk where she kept her cash
register. It was a wooden desk, antique. Its wood had a glossy finish.
Beneath the cash drawer of the cash register was a second drawer. The
woman pulled it open.
ÒOh!Ó I said. There was a Leonardo book and some buttons, plus a
pile of sticker sheets. ÒIÕll trade you some Winnie the Pooh stickers for
that one,Ó I said, pointing at a picture of Leonardo with Kate.
ÒHmmm, perhaps,Ó the woman said. She smiled at me. She pulled
out her stickers and we leafed through them together.
My aunt wandered through the store. When she came over to where I
sat with the proprietress she had not picked out anything.
ÒDid you find what you were looking for?Ó the proprietress asked
her.
ÒMmmmm,Ó my aunt said, her voice a small hum, like summertime
bees. ÒNot yet,Ó she said. For a moment she watched, smiling, as I
negotiated the trade of an Eeyore stickers for one of Leonardo. Then she
said, to the proprietress, ÒMy niece is crazy about stickers, but please
donÕt let her talk you out of yours if you donÕt want to be.Ó
ÒOh, thatÕs fine,Ó the proprietress said.
ÒI was wondering,Ó my aunt said, after watching us for another
moment. ÒDo you have... do you have anything in leather?Ó
The proprietress looked up. She smiled. ÒYes I do, actually,Ó she
said. ÒAre you referring to my second occupation?Ó
ÒI... I think so,Ó my aunt said.
ÒYes, of course I do,Ó the proprietress said. ÒSilk is so lovely and
soft but sometimes one wants something firmer, hmmm?Ó
ÒYes,Ó my aunt murmured.
ÒIÕll trade you TWO piglet stickers for that Leonardo,Ó I told the
proprietress.
ÒChloe, donÕt talk her out of all her stickers,Ó my aunt said.
ÒYou must make an appointment for the leather,Ó the proprietress
said to my aunt. ÒExcuse me, Chloe.Ó She got up. She drew a leather
appointment book from a drawer hung beneath the table that held her cash
register. She opened the book and laid it on the table. My aunt looked at
it; there were names written in it, addresses, phone numbers. But each
name that was written there had been checked and carefully crossed off.
Three lines covered each name, to shield the neatly penned letters from
prying eyes.
The proprietress got out an ink well and a quill pen. She uncapped
the ink and handed the quill pen to my aunt.
ÒPlease write in your personal information,Ó the proprietress said.
ÒI keep everything completely private, of course.Ó
ÒAuntie, can we go to the sticker store as soon as weÕre done
here?Ó I asked.
ÒShhh, Chloe,Ó my aunt said. I saw her fingers tremble as she took
the quill pen from the woman. ÒI... IÕve never written with such a nice
pen,Ó she said.
ÒHereÕs a sheet of paper you may practise on if you wish,Ó the
proprietress said. She took a sheet from a pile of them stacked neatly
next to the register.
ÒOh, thank you,Ó my aunt said. Carefully she dipped the pen in the
inkwell. Then she began drawing letters on the sheet. At last, confident
that she could do it, she placed the quill on the leaf of the book where her
name was to be written. She began writing, in cursive, the letters of her
name: Rebecca.
After a few more trips to the ink well, my aunt was finished. Her
name and address were penned into the book. The proprietress let the ink
dry and then placed the book back in the drawer under the cash register.
ÒIs that all?Ó my aunt asked.
ÒWe do not have a day and time yet,Ó the proprietress said. ÒLet me
get you some coffee, or is it tea you prefer? Then we will discuss what
time would be most convenient for us both. It may take awhile, perhaps
several days.Ó
ÒI donÕt want to stay here for several days!Ó I said. ÒI want to go to
the sticker store, auntie!Ó Then I looked at the proprietress and said, ÒIÕll
buy that sticker from you if you donÕt want to trade for it.Ó
ÒI think IÕve traded enough for today,Ó the proprietress told me. She
picked up her sheets of stickers. ÒPerhaps if you visit again we can do
some more trading. Sometimes itÕs more fun to wait for something than
to get it right away, donÕt you think?Ó she asked me.
ÒNo,Ó I said.
The proprietress laughed. ÒIÕm sure I would have said the same
when I was your age. How old are you?Ó
Ò14,Ó I told her. IÕd had my birthday two weeks earlier. My aunt and
I had celebrated by going to an amusement park. It was fun, childish. I ate
a lot of cotton candy and she let me kiss Charlie the Cheetah.
ÒAh, are you enjoying being a teen?Ó the proprietress asked.
ÒYes,Ó I said.
ÒWould you like some coffee also?Ó she said.
ÒYes, please,Ó I replied.
My aunt and I sat drinking coffee with the proprietress. It was an
exotic French blend. It had a lacy quality to it, soft and silky, and yet
there was an underlying touch of bitterness, not off-putting but rather
intriguing, I thought.
ÒDo you like it?Ó the proprietress asked my aunt.
ÒMmmm. I think I shall want a second cup,Ó my aunt said.
My aunt looked at herself in her bedroom mirror. She wore a jacket.
It was double-breasted. It had admiralÕs gold buttons on it; novelty
buttons, they didnÕt close anything, or allow anything to be opened. She
drew the twin halves of the jacket closed over her bust and held them
there, as if shielding herself, perhaps from her own thoughts. Then she let
go of the halves of the jacket and they fell open again. Beneath I saw the
tanned flatness of her small belly, and, over her breasts, a lacy black bra.
SheÕd bought the bra at Silk Station after sheÕd made her appointment.
ÒAuntie, are you going to see Vivian tonight?Ó I asked.
ÒYes!Ó my aunt said. She looked up, surprised. I hovered in the
doorway to her bedroom.
ÒIs she going to sell you some leather?Ó I asked.
ÒIn... In a manner of speaking, Chloe,Ó my aunt answered.
ÒI want some too,Ó I said.
ÒNo, Chloe,Ó my aunt said. ÒDefinitely not. IÕve let you come to
other things with me but not this time. This will be quite... difficult.Ó
ÒDifficult?Ó I asked. The word hung on the air. My aunt, who had
been looking at me in her mirror, dropped her eyes. She drew her jacket
closed again, holding it tightly with her fingers.
ÒYes, Chloe. Difficult,Ó my aunt said at last. ÒAnd IÕll be gone
several days. You know how to work the microwave?Ó
ÒOf course, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒDonÕt just make popcorn with it, Chloe,Ó my aunt said.
ÒI want to go with you, auntie,Ó I whined.
ÒI said ÔnoÕ, Chloe,Ó my aunt answered.
Something IÕd seen on T.V. flashed through my mind. ÒAuntie,Ó I
said. ÒIÕm only 14. IÕm pretty mature, in my opinion, but what if IÕm not?
DonÕt you think, if youÕre going to be gone for several days, that I should
have a baby sitter?Ó
My aunt paused. She tugged at her jacket. Then she looked at me
and said, ÒYou donÕt need a baby sitter, Chloe.Ó
ÒBut somebody might think I do,Ó I said. What if someone finds out
IÕm home all alone, or what if thereÕs an emergency? Then I might have to
tell them, ÔIÕm home aloneÕ, and you might get in trouble.Ó
ÒChloe, donÕt do this to me,Ó my aunt said.
ÒBut even if thereÕs an emergency, you canÕt get in trouble if IÕm
with you,Ó I said. ÒLike, if the house burns down, but IÕm with you, then I
wonÕt know and you wonÕt know, and when the firemen come and say,
ÔWhoÕs home?Õ I wonÕt be home alone to tell them IÕm home alone.Ó
My aunt spun about. Her brows were furrowed and she looked angry.
ÒChloe!Ó she said. ÒWhat do you think IÕm going to this appointment for?
To buy leather? Hmmm?Ó
I wanted to answer Ôof courseÕ but she looked so angry that I said
nothing.
ÒNo, Chloe,Ó my aunt said. ÒI have lots of leather things. Handbags,
blouses, skirts, gloves. IÕm not visiting Vivian to get more of what I could
buy on any day downtown in Paris. IÕm going to be whipped, Chloe. She is
a world famous dominatrix. IÕd always heard of her but I didnÕt know
where she was and, when I finally found out, I was too scared to follow up
on it. Now IÕve finally found the courage and there you are, begging for a
babysitter!Ó My aunt picked up a curler that was lying on her makeup
table, next to the full-length mirror sheÕd been standing in front of. She
threw it at me. But she was not good at throwing and it went nowhere
near me. I didnÕt even have to budge as it sailed into the far wall of her
bedroom, yards from where I was standing.
ÒI-- I still want to go with you, auntie,Ó I said. My voice quavered.
I felt suddenly nervous, but excited too. How could Vivian, who seemed so
quiet and modest, sitting all day in her lace shop, also be a domme?
ÒChloe, I did not make an appointment for you, only for myself,Ó
Rebecca told me.
ÒIÕll trade her some of my stickers,Ó I said.
ÒThis isnÕt about stickers, Chloe! ItÕs about pain,Ó my aunt said.
ÒThe controlled use of it, to...Ó
ÒYes?Ó I asked.
ÒTo relieve tension,Ó my aunt said. She tugged again on her jacket.
ÒAnd--Ó
I stared at her. She stared at me. Finally in a small voice I
repeated my previous question.
ÒYes?Ó
ÒTo produce desire,Ó my aunt said. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
ÒOh Chloe!Ó she said. ÒIÕm so frightened.Ó
ÒDonÕt go, then,Ó I said.
ÒOh, I must! IÕve made an appointment,Ó my aunt said. She turned
and looked again at herself in the mirror. She tugged at her jacketÕs hem.
Beneath the hem of her jacket her hips flared. Teal blue pants hugged her
hips and her legs. She wore black pumps on her feet. They were made of
leather.
My aunt turned. She picked up a leather handbag on her bed. She
slung it over her shoulder. She looked at me.
ÒIf you are coming, Chloe, thereÕs not much time,Ó she said. ÒThe
cab will be arriving soon.Ó
ÒYippeee!Ó I shouted. I jumped. ÒWill I need birth control too?Ó I
asked my aunt. I loved the boldness of my words.
ÒNo, Chloe,Ó Rebecca said. ÒIt will just be all girls this time.
Vivian, myself, and you. But you must do as she says. I have no control
over her. If she insists on treating you like a child, there will be nothing I
can do about it.Ó
ÒThatÕs okay,Ó I said. I was just glad to be going. I didnÕt like
staying by myself. I mean, it was fun sometimes, when my aunt was only
shopping. But if she was going on one of her ÔadventuresÕ, as she liked to
refer to them, I definitely didnÕt want to be left out!
The cab picked us up. We were driven a long ways. We went on back
roads, under trees heavy with summertime leaves. I lost track of our way
in the darkness. My aunt did too. She squeezed my hand as we sat together
in the back seat of the cab. I squeezed her hand back.
When we arrived at VivianÕs house, there was a comforting glow
coming from her front windows. Trees stood tall around her house, just as
in front of her store, and I liked seeing them in the darkness, as we
stepped out of the cab. They seemed reassuring. They were powerful, yet
harmless. Their branches swayed softly in the night breeze but otherwise
the trees were still, Ôthe big silent typeÕ rendered into bark and leaves.
ÒIt looks... comfortable,Ó I said, taking my auntÕs hand, looking at
VivianÕs home. It was a small house, and the presence of the trees made it
look like a gingerbread house IÕd read about in a storybook once.
ÒYes,Ó my aunt said. There was less tension in her voice than there
had been in her bedroom. She seemed calmed by the presence of the trees,
and the smallness of the house. She gave the cab driver a large bill and
told him she did not need the change. He tipped his hat to her.
ÒBonjour, madam,Ó he said.
We walked up to the front door. My aunt let me ring the doorbell.
We waited a moment and then Vivian answered. She wore a lace dress as
before; this one was green like the trees outside, a dark green, as if the
dress had been influenced not only by the trees but by the night itself.
ÒOh! I did not know you were bringing your niece,Ó Vivian said to my
aunt.
ÒNeither did I, actually,Ó my aunt answered.
ÒOh, my. Oh well,Ó Vivian said. ÒShe is 14, is she not?Ó
ÒYes,Ó my aunt said.
ÒI learned about love at 14,Ó Vivian said, and opened her door wider,
to let us come inside.
ÒIÕm already very learned in love,Ó I told her.
ÒOh, really?Ó Vivian said.
ÒSheÕs had... sheÕs had a few boyfriends,Ó my aunt said.
ÒOh, then you have been busy,Ó Vivian said, looking at me.
ÒYes! Like that animal that builds things in rivers,Ó I said. My mind
searched for the right word but I could not find it.
ÒA beaver?Ó Vivian asked. My aunt laughed.
ÒYes,Ó I said. Vivian chuckled.
ÒOh alright, Chloe. Then I suppose you must be included. But did
your aunt tell you what our appointment concerned?Ó
ÒA little,Ó I said.
ÒI told her,Ó my aunt said.
ÒShe will complicate things a little,Ó Vivian said. She looked at my
aunt. ÒI prefer one on one sessions. It allows me to devote full attention
to my pupilÕs needs.Ó
ÒOh, if it is money--Ó my aunt began.
ÒNo, never mind,Ó Vivian said. ÒI mean simply that I do not wish for
you to contradict me in the matter of your niece. I must have complete
control. Only if I have total control will you be free to experience total
surrender.Ó
ÒYes,Ó my aunt said. Her voice was like a small butterfly, releasing
that single word, letting it flutter up where Vivian could catch it.
ÒThen we shall begin,Ó Vivian said. ÒIn the past I would sometimes
allow an interval to obtain, but often it only led to more nervousness on
the part of my pupils. We have shared coffee together at my store, we
have chatted a little on the phone, you have waited a week, let us not put
things off any further.Ó She touched my auntÕs elbow. Rebecca flinched.
But she did not protest as Vivian took her arm and led her through the
living room. Ignoring the soft chairs with their lace headrests, walking
past the wooden side tables with their lace doilies, Vivian took my aunt to
the back of the house. There, in a room reserved for potting plants, she
told my aunt and myself to undress.
ÒThere is a hook on the wall,Ó Vivian said, pointing. I turned my
head and saw, screwed into the wall, a single hook. There was a rake
propped against the wall next to it. ÒMeanwhile I shall change,Ó Vivian
said. ÒIn my bedroom. You will remain here until I come for you.Ó
ÒWhat are we to wear?Ó my aunt asked. The nervousness had
returned to her voice and she tugged on the twin halves of her jacket.
ÒWhy, nothing,Ó Vivian said. ÒOnly I will be clothed. The pupil must
be naked, so that her entire body may receive whatever instruction her
Mistress deems necessary for it.Ó
ÒMust I be naked too?Ó I asked.
ÒYes, Chloe,Ó Vivian said. ÒEither that or we shall have to call a cab
for you and send you home.Ó
ÒOh, I donÕt want that,Ó I said.
ÒThen take off your clothes,Ó Vivian said. She turned. Then,
pausing, she turned to us and said, ÒAnd there is one other rule. You must
both remain silent, unless you are spoken to.Ó
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive.
Type: roller666@earthlink.net into the ÒPower SearchÓ box.
Click on ÒFindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-----Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
Or via the Web:
http://www.eroticstories.com
http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place
in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges:
Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
-----Great sites:
http://www.nambla.org
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1999 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. All rights reserved.
-END OF story EMISSION