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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
VEGAS VIXEN
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Chapter One
I told myself it was just another party, but I knew it wasn't. Jeff
was the reason I was here, with his broad shoulders and his sandy
locks. That broad, easy grin drew me in like a net does a butterfly. It
took in others too, especially Kali. I'd always been on the shy side, and
now I found myself contending with a girl who was just the opposite.
What luck. I squared my shoulders as best I could as Jeff punched the
doorbell. His palm rested lightly on my hips. I wished it was heavier,
exerting more pressure. Then I could tell myself this was all happening
against my will. And it would mean that I belonged to him. But I knew
I was here because he was here, and Kali was here.
The jacket of the female who answered was cut daringly low. Her
miniskirt, apparently in some warped attempt at compensation, was
cut too high. She greeted us with delighted enthusiasm and a moment
later we were inside.
Have you ever been inside one of those really lavish suites in Las
Vegas? The ones at the tops of the casinos with two stories,
chandeliers, baby grands. Well, this was one of them, and it took my
breath away. I must admit I do love parties. I'm such a gab. We were
ushered by the self-appointed hostess down a hall walled with glass on
its far side. The desert city stretched out below, sparkling. A hundred
thousand gems twinkled up at me, blindly. The glass was for our
benefit, not theirs. It permitted only one-way viewing.
In a pleasantly full room people in expensive but casual attire
traded bits of gossip, flavored by morsels of cheese and salmon. I felt
my breasts preceeding me as I entered. They were full and firm and
they were providing the ammunition against the competition tonight.
My shirt, red, was tight as a slip. I wore no bra and fretted now,
wondering just how visible my nipples might be. The intention had been
that my nipples would be readily apparent the moment I became
excited. A dirty little trick we girls pull now and then on you men, just
so we can't blame ourselves when we wind up home alone at 3 a.m., our
knight having gone jousting elsewhere. I didn't know who Jeff might
escort home tonight. We'd arrived together because we worked in the
same building. But I wanted to make sure that if he did take someone
home, it wasn't Kali rather than me because she'd worn no bra and I had.
Now, though, I wondered if I wasn't already excited. I mentally
checked my pulse. Men, gorgeously attired men, were gazing with
appreciation at my sheetrocked breasts. At least that's what they felt
like. I'd let the clerk in the store sell me the tightest blouse she had.
Tight and silky.
I smiled. Females who at most other parties would have marked
me as a threat smiled back, almost affectionately. Well, these
certainly were nice people.
Swingers, that's what they were. I could read it in their eyes. I
glanced at Jeff. He knew many of them, it seemed. That broad grin of
his just smiled on and on, as if silently saying, "Ah, Mrs. Poindexter, I
still remember the tight fit of your ass from our last encounter. And
Miss Johnson, so newly married, would you like me to help your husband
slake your lusty cunt again?" I was received as Jeff's companion. I
liked that. They seemed to want to lavish just as much honor on me as
him. Yet I'd never seen any of them before, and might never again. I
was, after all, just the hotdog girl (a silly name, and not just in
reference to what I pushed across the counter in the lobby of the casino
next door. I'd gotten that name in my two weeks of work 'cause the
girls seemed to think lots more boys came round our hot dog stand than
before. As if I was drawing them, and those elongated things they kept
stuffed down their pants.
"Oh yes," Matilda had said. "We used to hardly ever get any of the
boys from the high school, being as there's a hot dog stand closer by
them. But now the boys go right past their old haunt and all want to eat
here. And we charge casino prices." Well, I was pretty, I had to admit,
even for 16. If I dressed pretty doormen didn't even ask for my I.D. It
was like they didn't want to know. The instant they saw me they
wanted me in my club, and that was that. Big, burly, guys...the kind that
it would take a SWAT team to dislodge in order to pry me loose from
the dancefloor. So I partied more and more now, dancing my little heart
out in all the fancy clubs.
I'd turned 16 two weeks ago and gotten my work permit. It wasn't
like it must be for other girls, in other cities. I wanted spending money
and I knew any job in any casino would get it for me in abundance.
Sure, the hot dog stand was minimum wage, but the tips were awesome.
I'd sold dogs to whole flotillas of Japanese men who insisted on buying
$7.50 in food with Grants or even Franklins (as we call them). They'd
vye with each other to see which of them could impress me most. One
guy would meekly leave a ten dollar bill and insist on my keeping the
change. The next would insist on giving me a twenty. Like a robot (by
now) I'd tell him sweetly that my manager didn't allow me to take any
tips. By then the fifties would be showing their corners and, finally,
one dude who just had to top the rest would lay me a hundred. Girlishly
I'd accept the money, trying to let them realize that I was just a high
school sophomore...the more sweet and innocent I tried to look (so
they'd know without doubt I wasn't available later for 'room service'),
the more they seemed to love me. So trying to say 'no' only increased
the tips and, after cutting in the other girls to keep them from getting
jealous, I'd keep the change. The high school boys even insisted I keep
the change, though they never got past the ten dollar level, of course.
Kali was 18 and breathtakingly legal. She had long dark hair and
the eyes of a cat. The mind of a cat too, for that matter, like a
predator. I was blonde and willowy, painfully thin almost except for
my Godzilla-sized tits. My hips were girlishly trim, as if all the
adipose tissue there had decided to commute to my chest. I was told I
had asscheeks like a vise. A boy had tried to deflower me there and
couldn't get his dick past the rim of my sphincter. He'd cum just trying,
and left me with an unpleasantly moist heinie and no pleasure. I'd been
taken in front, of course, and had been told that was tight too. They'd
used lots of vaseline the night they did that, at a party. It had been a
pool party and I'd let them get me high on marijuana. Two boys finally
managed to talk me into a bedroom and it had happened there. I was
ashamed of it for awhile but once I hit high school the social whirl sort
of demanded you 'put out' at least once in a while, lest you get labelled
a nun. I'd had three boyfriends in high school and done it with two of
them.
Well, if the people at this party knew my age they weren't letting
it bother them. I was sought out in conversation just as much as Jeff,
who was merely stating that I was one of the 'finest employees' of the
casino next door. Maybe some people thought he meant I was the
assistant secretary to the boss or something, I don't know. Anyway
nobody mentioned hot dogs. I played along and, mostly, just smiled and
nodded and listened. These were rich people and they seemed to like
that. The wealthy always assume everyone wants to hear their
business. Well, I was as priviledged tonight as anyone, and I listened
with increasing fascination. When they asked about me I said I'd lived
in the city all my life, and they enjoyed hearing particulars about Vegas
from the mouth of a native.
A bit later I was sitting, legs crossed, on the couch. Daintily I
sipped some hugely expensive liquor, balancing the glass stem twixt my
fingers. This wasn't just a glass, I thought, musing over it. It was fine
jewelry, expensive as a bauble most women wear on their fingers. This
was the kind of glass you didn't want to be holding at an opera, unless
you could afford to lose it.
"Ah, well, midnight does approach," a woman said with carefree
gay, and tossed her wine glass into the fireplace like a McDonald's
clamshell. No styrofoam this, it shattered almost musically. Other
glasses followed.
"Oh well," I finally told myself, rolling my eyes. A flick of my
wrist and my glass arced peacefully to a (hopefully) pleasant end. Most
glasses just got set down, but not out of any desire to preserve the
world's finer sands. Only I seemed to have taken note that any glasses
had been broken. A transition was occuring here, a change of mood. We
were on the front between two atmospheres and crossing fast.
A tap on my leg. It was Jeff. His eyes indicated I look toward
Kali. A woman was causing the tanned, tawny vixen to rise. Kali stood
up and the woman approached her. Closing, speaking small talk I cannot
even rememeber now, the woman began casually undoing the buttons
down the front of Kali's blazer.
"You are new here, and it is your priviledge to be first," the
woman was saying to Kali. My competitor for Jeff's hand seemed to
know what was about to befall her and stood straight, like a soldier
about to be reviewed by her commanding officer. Yet with a soft,
feminine slinkiness remaining.
The blazer came undone and Kali stood in a frilly white sleeveless
bustier, plus micro mini. A woman sitting on the davenport behind Kali
scooted closer and took Kali's skirt in hand. She pulled down on it, I
thought for a moment so Kali would show less leg. But the skirt just
kept going until--that bitch!--it was seen by all that Kali wore no
underwear. Simultaneously the woman who had undone Kali's blazer
now scooped her melons from the translucent screen of the bustier. As
if handling rare hothouse fruit, the woman lifted them up for all to see,
prize melons. Kali merely looked down at them, as if inspecting them
for herself as well.
"They must remain thus always," the still fully gowned woman
disrobing Kali breathed, her hot breath washing the melons as if to
polish them. Kali wriggled her hips a bit self-consciously now, it
seemed, then stood stock still again.
Another woman approached the first at Kali's breasts, a bottle of
baby oil in hand. With erotic slowness the bottle was caused to emit a
never-ending squirt of oil onto the precious bare mounds. Here and
there the stream played, crossing and re-crossing the breasts as a
whipsman might pattern an unfortunate bottom. I shivered. This scene,
so unexpected, was making me hot. I didn't even realize it then but my
nipples had perked up into erect little points.
Some partiers watched the unfolding disrobing of Kali's clothes
and her re-robing in oil. Others, bored perhaps with preliminaries after
so many hard years of fucking, talked on. I let my inner thighs rub
together without even thinking; once, twice, again. My hands clasped at
the hem of my own miniskirt and pulled it taut, though it was taut
already. I stopped my errant thighs and put my hand to my mouth to sip
liquer, found myself holding no glass.
The bottle was passed to those admiring Kali from the rear
vantage of the davenport. Kali's nether spheres, equally round, received
an oily dosing of their own. I wondered if I should try to leave.
Feminine nails parted Kali's tight buttocks, opened them for an
impromptu viewing of her naughty hole. Kali merely contemplated her
breasts. In her reverie she found her long black hair to be centimeters
out of place as it cascaded down over her shoulders. She brushed it
back, smoothing its appearance, keeping it absolutely perfect as all the
while her shithole was viewed by prying, hungry eyes.
A female hand took Kali's left arm and bent it straight. I put my
hand to my mouth as I watched, shocked. A woman in formal wear
bathed the girl's skin just above a vein with an alcohol laden puff of
cotton. Kali watched, put a lacquered nail to her lower lip. The
formally attired nurse reached into the handbag of a nearby woman and
produced a syringe. Kali was injected, flinched.
"A tiny pin prick," the nurse said soothingly.
"I.V.," Jeff whispered to me. "They'll run a full gram of
solumedrol into her over two hours. A steriod, it will make her hot as a
horse." I was too frightened to know what to say, grubbed in my mind
and found an insult.
"She needs that?" I asked.
"No, of course not," Jeff said, almost bothered by my question.
"Of course she's a bitch in heat by nature, but this will drive her to
fevered heights. Prednisone turns everything in the body on. The mind,
the senses, everything is much more intense."
I very definitely wanted to leave now but didn't know how to. I'd
just seen some amazing shit, and this party might not want anybody to
break the fun by squealing. I realized I wouldn't be allowed to leave if I
asked. Could I sneak out? Break out? I contemplated my options, even
as my curiousity grew.
Slowly, effortlessly, Kali turned now and walked nude toward a
far wall. A curtain I'd paid no notice to before was swept back. A sigh
went up from the crowd, almost of relief, as a wallfull of flagellums
came into view. I wanted to check my pulse to see whether I was in a
dream, but moved not. Still I maintained my composure, an icicle of
cool.
I saw one woman beside Kali, walking with her, held aloft a bag
of fluid. It must be the Solumedrol. Already the evil drug was dripping
its way down a catheter and into Kali's artery.
A sawhorse was reached. Its top was padded with leather.
Effortlessly Kali was bent forward, forward, doubled over almost. An
iron ring clipped her neck and dropped an affixing chain to the floor.
Kali lifted her head slightly, the chain tautened. She could get up no
more.
Kali's arms were bound behind her with loving care, wrists and
elbows joined by iron. Her ankles, still in heels, were separated now,
pulled apart to form a wide vee. The fate of the female. Arms together
but legs apart.
Kali's hair was carefully piled atop her head and tied with loose
ribbon. Her bottom gleamed whitely at me.
"The legs, thighs, bottom are best," a woman said now, and passed
a single birch branch to another female. "The thighs are more sensitive
but the bottom heals fastest."
"We have no need of blood tonight, unless the victim requests it,"
the woman taking the birch branch responded.
"Normally we do not draw," another woman said.
"No blood then," a woman concluded. "But I should hope there
won't be any sparing of pain."
"To hurt always, to harm never," the one with the birch said.
A woman bent slightly and addressed Kali's face from the side.
She spoke as one might to a puppy. "You'll hurt something awful
tonight, Kali," the tormentress to be said. "We intend to try on you
everything we can. But I want you to know that, no matter what
happens to you, we all do love you very much. Tomorrow when you
examine the little bruises on your bottom, barely able to touch them,
remember our admiration for you. And your bruises will heal quickly.
Only a matter of days and your bottom will be back in fit form, ready
for another ordeal if you wish."
"I, I think this one will last me quite awhile," Kali breathed in a
squeaky voice.
"Do you feel my hand upon your arse?" the woman with the birch
asked now, and placed her palm firmly on Kali's right buttcheek. Kali
nodded assent as best she could. "She how deeply I impress my hand,
Kali," the whip woman said. "Yet you stand completely still, almost
unaware of its presence. Tomorrow I shall blow on your skin and my
very breath will send you leaping."
"I dread the transformation," Kali said hotly.
"As well you must," said the whip woman. She palmed all over
Kali's exposed heinie now. Her caresses brought a soft whimper from
Kali, a lover being touched by the beloved. "Yes, my hand brings you
only pleasure, Kali, doesn't it?" asked the whip woman. She stroked the
contours of the silky white flesh, so smooth, crisply clean feminine
beauty. "Yet this same hand that softly caresses you now will wield all
your tormenters. And I myself shall not dare to bring this hand to your
bottom tomorrow, lest my mere touch hurt you further." She raised her
palm up, leaving only the pads of her fingers.
"Why?" I asked of Jeff.
"It is our custom," he replied. "I was over the trestle last week.
Afterward I took revenge on them with my Solumedrol bloated dick.
They loved it."
A woman sidled up against me on the couch. "You should not sit
so," she said to me, and I uncrossed my legs in response, thinking
obedience. But it was my breasts she meant. Before I could decide
what to do, sitting like a stone cold rabbit, the woman took to flicking
open buttons on my blouse. When she'd gotten all the way down to my
navel she stopped, leaving the last buttons closed. With quiet reserve
she then took each half of my opened blouse and, pulling them back,
presented me with the fait accompli of bare breasts.
I was just about to raise a howl of protest when Jeff reached
over and softly took one of my breasts in his palm. The woman beside
me moved away. "They're truly a work of art," Jeff said admiringly of
my titties. "You should display them." Then he took away his hand,
looked me in the eyes, and stroked back my blonde locks with a wave of
his hand. He smiled. A long smile. Then he turned his head back to
regard the proceedings taking place at the trestle.
I was feeling very scared and very cool, both at the same time. I
looked around me. A few eyes met mine and grinned appreciatevely.
Then their gazes turned back to the trestle. I was left sitting there,
bare breasted but otherwise the same as before. I knew not what to do
and tried, as unselfconsciously as possible, to turn my head also to the
trestle.
Some time passed, with Kali getting ever more frisky as the
Solumedrol continued to drip into her. Her white bottomcheeks
squirmed and jiggled as she felt ever more aroused. Behind her two
women waited. Menacingly they swished whips by their sides.
"Please," Kali moaned, begging to be let up.
"Your flagellation has yet to begin and already you complain?" One
of the two female custodians of the whips replied. The nurse stopped
by and bent down next to Kali's face. The girl's position was awkward
and the nurse checked to make sure she was not suffering
disproportionately from it. She brushed back Kali's hair and caressed
the cheek of her face. Then, silently, she got up and walked away. All
was well.
"At least rub me," Kali pleaded. She rubbed her belly against the
trestle in a vain attempt to bring her clitoris into contact with it.
"Ah, we'll do much more than rub you," one of the females with a
whip replied. She smiled evilly at her friend. They looked like a pair of
vampires waiting for sundown.
A woman, whom I later learned was named Bella, sauntered up to
Jeff and whispered in his ear. We were still sitting on the settee, and
as the woman bent low her fulsome breasts bulged threateningly, so I
thought, from her decollette dress. Jeff, taking my hand at the
woman's suggestion, bid me rise. I walked across the room, more self-
conscious than ever about my micro-mini. It permitted the lowest
portions of my pantied bottomcheeks to peek out. It seemed all the men
were watching the gentle rolling of my heinie as I walked. That, and
my titties too, which had been bared for all to see.
I was led to a private elevator and stepped inside. Bella
accompanied us down, laying a solicitious kiss on Jeff's lips as we
dropped. I boiled with jealousy. We walked out of the lift into what
appeared to be a private garage. What pinkness envy hadn't lent to my
cheeks was there as a result of my embarrassment. Nonetheless, Jeff
took my wrists suddenly and pulled them in front of me.
"Nice carriage, no?" Jeff asked. I pressed against him to hide my
titties in his chest and turned to admire a gorgeous team of horses that
was lined up to pull a medieval-looking stagecoach. "Would you like to
ride in it?" Jeff asked.
"Sure," I replied.
"Then appropriate attire is required," Bella announced behind me.
She unzipped my micro mini and let it drop to my feet. Then, Jeff still
holding my hands, she lowered my panties to reveal my naked bottom.
"The seats of the carriage are of the finest animal skin and we wouldn't
want anything but soft white bottoms sitting on them," Bella replied. I
protested to Jeff but he put a finger to my lips and silenced me. I tried
to prize my hands from his grip but could not. Bella next attended to
Jeff, stripping him from the waist down, leaving only his shoes and
socks on below his navel. Then we were both escorted into the
carriage.
The coach was big enough to stand up in. It had beautiful skins
for its seats, polished wood for its seat backs. I was made to sit down
and felt, for the first time in my life, the warm fuzzy touch of animal
skin against my bottom. Jeff turned my wrists over to Bella, who
lifted them high above my head. They were swiftly clipped inside a
single manacle. "Safety first," Bella said smiling. I looked about,
wide-eyed, and saw that six manacles hung at various places from the
cabin's ceiling.
"I'd rather have a seat belt," I said hopefully.
"Seat belts constrict your tummy in a crash," Bella said. She bent
down to my feet as she spoke. "Some people have had their internal
organs crushed. But this way, you'll be totally safe." She parted my
legs slightly (I was too shocked to stop her) and fastened each of my
feet to the floor with chains. Jeff willingly let Bella seat him and
imprison him in the same manner.
What could I do? I had unwittingly selected a masochist for my
boyfriend and now he was leading me into his perverted games. Bella
chuckled at our plight. No sooner had she finished admiring us than a
girl who looked even younger than me was brought aboard. She was
totally naked, save for long, fishnet stockings and gloves and a pair of
dazzlingly high heels. Clearly this girl had been playing at adult games
and suddenly found herself taken too far. She looked frightened.
Bella seated the girl next to me and fastened her wrists far above
her, just like mine. Simultaneously a male servant, having brought the
girl aboard, manacled her feet.
"But I have to go to the bathroom!" the girl wailed, hips wriggling.
In response Bella tickled the girl's tiny pee hole, sending her into a
spasm of desperate restraint. "I-I can't hold it!" the girl cried as Bella
tortured her.
"You'd better," Bella snarled, but stopped her tickling. She then
took to caressing the inside of the girl's right thigh. "It's a long ride,
and if you piss on the Count's priceless seats you'll pay with your own
seat!" Neither of us needed to hear the swish of a whip to know what
she meant.
Two more men were brought aboard and "seated" next to Jeff. One
struggled, shaking the entire coach as four men brought him aboard. He
had heavy irons on his wrists, his ankles, and about his waist, yet it
was only with great difficulty that he was made to sit like us girls.
Not only were his wrists bound above him and his ankles fastened to
the floor, however, but his waist was girdled with iron and locked to
the seat-back.
A girl a bit older than myself was the last to enter, and with
little more than token opposition she allowed herself to be seated and
bound. She wore a corset, tied in front, which clasped her torso from
her navel to her tits. Bella, having imprisoned the girl, now freed her
bosoms. The cups of the corset were loosened by the untying of the
string which held together the top of her corset. Then the girl's boobs
were scooped out, to rest upon the cups which had so modestly
contained them before. Bella left the girl's tummy tightly tied inside
her corset, which made her boobs bulge out even more than they
otherwise would have.
Then, still clothed herself, her tits neatly contained inside her
vest and her bottom sheathed in a skirt, Bella asked one of the male
servants to bring her a bottle of liquid aphrodesiac. I had no idea
whether aphrodesiacs truly did as they were advertised, but I had no
intention of finding out. Nonetheless, one of the male servants
(dressed in a tuxedo, incidentally, including the pants), returned with
the bidden bottle. The oldest female captive, with only minor
resistance, allowed her lips to be parted. The bottle's contents were
poured down her throat. The littlest girl was next, and she wriggled
between us two as the same bottle was made to empty some of its
love-liquor into her already full tummy. I was next, and despite my
resistance strong male hands insured that I drained the remainder of
the bottle. No sooner had I done so than a slight dizziness came to my
head and I felt my already inspired nipples stiffen even further.
Despite my reluctance I must admit to a certain thrill when the
same procedure, with a new bottle, was begun with the two captive
males across from us. Jeff took the spirit willingly, but the other man
needed all four male servants to pry his jaws apart, and managed to
bite the fingers of one servant in the process. It was only when Bella
threatened the man's balls that he relented.
"Make him take another bottle," Bella ordered when the violent
man had drained the contents of the first one. A second was procured,
and it too was forced to deliver its spirits down his throat. The man's
cock, stiff from the moment he'd entered the coach, seemed to grow
even larger.
A third male, pretty of face and figure, was brought aboard. He
was completely naked. Bella made him sit and suffer just as we others
had. He struggled too, but although he was quite handsome he could not
match even the strength of two servants.
When all of us were equally helpless Bella stepped from the
carriage and went to sit in front, with the driver. The male servants
were dismissed. The two vampires that I had seen upstairs at Kali's
bottom suddenly appeared. One stood at either side of the coach's
interior. We prisoners sat under their watchful eye, mindful of the
cat-o-nine tails which each vamp now wielded. None of us wanted to
give them the opportunity to use their tools. Each vampire reached up
and casually clasped a hand-grip hanging overhead.
The driver lashed the horses and we set off. The windows of the
coach were tinted, allowing us to see out but, fortunately, prohibiting
the vision of those who would wish to peep in. No sooner had we exited
the garage than we were back on the streets of Vegas, but in a
decidedly different condition than before. We had gone not far when the
driver turned us off the main strip, onto a gravel road. Apparently this
was a street that was being torn up and resurfaced, yet the driver
somehow had permission to travel over it. The vampires leered at my
titties as they suddenly sprang to life. The jostling of the carriage on
the gravel made them bounce like jelly. I was not pleased that the
tightness of my red blouse round my tummy made them even more alive
than they otherwise would have been.
The girl in the corset had lively titties too, thanks to the
carriage, as did the little one between us. She had an even worse
situation, the jostling of the carriage was increasing her need to go.
She pleaded with the vampires to let her out for a pee, which they
gleefully denied.
The men's penises sprang up and down as the coach jostled them
too. Each was big and lovely, with the violent man's in the middle being
the biggest of all. Their stiff prongs jiggled temptingly, making us
girls even more aroused than were already were from the love-liquor.
Beneath each magnificent penis was a pair of bloated testicles. I
wondered what it must be like to ride nude in a jostling carriage with
sperm-laden balls. As I sat admiring the stiff dicks I too began to feel
the need to pee, thanks to Bella. I hoped the ride would be a short one.
Much to my dismay, when we came to the end of the street under
repair, the coach turned off onto a gravel road. If anything, the coach
bounced even more. Gloomily I looked out the window and watched as
the bright lights of Vegas receeded in the distance.
"What's your name?" I asked later, turning to the little one next to
me, breaking the ominous silence inside the carriage.
"A-Amy," the girl blathered, in the throes of her need. She looked
at me hopefully, though I was as captive as she.
"If only I could squeeze my legs together," Amy said.
I myself burned to pee now, and hoped that a conversation with
Amy would distract me. But her every reflex spoke of her need. I
looked past her at the girl in the corset. She met my eyes and said
quietly, "I'm Pia."
Alas! The closeness of her name to the act we were all trying to
aviod sent poor Amy over the edge. A sickly look came to her face as a
trickling sound was heard. The vampires leaped to her side and lifted
her bottom from the seat. Her pee, between slightly parted legs,
flooded the carriage floor. Fortunately (for us, anyway) the floor of the
carriage tilted slightly toward the bench where the men sat, facing us.
Amy's pee slid over to their side of the carriage and stayed there,
though it did slosh about a bit with each bump of the coach.
A sprinkling of stickerburs was cast upon the seat where Amy
was to rest her heinie. "Ooch!" she cried as the girls sat her back down
again. She tried to stand but they held her in place and girdled her
waist with iron and locked it to the seat-back. Now each bump of the
coach made Amy's bottom bounce upon the stickerburs. For final
vengeance, the vampires made Amy drink more of the love potion.
"Do you tingle too?" Pia asked me after the vampires had finished
with Amy.
"Yes," I replied, biting my lower lip.
"And you, Tinklebell," Pia said to Amy. "How naughty you are to
pee on the Count's precious seat. You should enjoy the deliciousness of
it." As Pia spoke she shivered with her own need. My eyes fixed on her
stiff nipples and unwittingly admired them.
A bit later Pia turned to Amy and kissed her cheek. The girl,
desperately aroused by the potion and once again eager to pee, turned
her face to Pia. The young woman led Amy in a long, loving kiss. Their
tongues clasped, their bosoms jutted forth as their mouths intertwined.
Finally even I longed for a kiss. I pecked the back of Amy's neck and she
turned her face to me, leaving Pia to gasp for air. My mouth merged
with Amy's. Across from us the men were squirming, their dicks
jabbing at the air.
The last portion of our journey was up a cobble drive. Then the
carriage halted. The vampires unfastened us, save for our wrists,
which although unhooked from the ceiling were kept bound before us.
One by one we filed out of the carriage. We were made to walk
between a row of whip wielding women. They slashed their whips at
the air as we passed between them. As you can imagine I walked as
briskly as my heels would allow. My bare bottomcheeks jiggled an
unwanted invitation to the women as I struggled to get past them.
Behind me Amy and Pia walked just as fast, followed by the men. Pia,
apparently for her sin of peeing, got struck twice by whips, which sent
her leaping and made her cry. The violent man also took a strike or
two, but the rest of our bottoms were spared.
Once past the row of women I slowed my pace, for the vampires
and Bella seemed not to like our fast walking. Before me were granite
steps, leading up to an entryway. I seemed to be in the presence of a
pre-Civil War mansion. The graceful lines of the mansion soothed me a
bit, and as I mounted the steps I actually endeavored to walk as
daintily as I could. At the top we were led inside.
It was with puffed faces and tightened bottoms that we were
introduced to a man inside known simply as "the Count." He was
dressed in a tuxedo, in sharp contrast to our nudity. He admired each of
us girls in turn, taking us by the chin as he drank in our charms. Even
the males did not escape his admiration. He was more forward with
them, actually grasping each one's prick and judging its ability to fuck.
Apparently he found none of them wanting.
Bella whispered in the Count's ear and he returned to Amy. "Ah,
so you are a very naughty girl, eh?" the Count said to a trembling Amy.
"I hear you've been re-named 'Tinklebell." He looked round at her bottom
and solicitously brushed away a stickerbur or two which yet clung to
her heinie. "Well, we are perfectly equipped here to teach little girls
how to hold their pee," the Count said in a reassuring tone. Then he
stood before us once more and snapped his fingers. The vampires led us
away.
By now we all had to pee pretty badly. But none of us were given
an opportunity for relief. We girls were separated from the boys, who,
I learned later, were chained in the stables for the pleasure of the
female sex. We girls were each put in a separate room, where our hair
was done and our faces made up. Our wrists were untied. Beyond I
could hear the chatter of voices.
When I had been attended to I was told to mount a small
staircase. At the top was a curtain which I was told to pass through.
Suddenly I found myself in the midst of a night club, surrounded by
rowdy males. They cheered my entrance. I didn't know what to do
except blush.
Across from me, off to the left a bit, Pia suddenly appeared. She
was still in her corset, as I was in my blouse. Of course our breasts
were still required to be bare. Then, off to the right, Amy appeared,
dressed in her gloves and stockings.
I was standing on a platform. I could not step forward without
falling off the platform and crashing to the floor. Yet, a woman behind
me urged me forward. She wanted me to go out to the center of the
club. The only way I could get to the center, I found, was by lowering
myself onto a horizontal pole. I would have to pull myself along the
pole until I reached the center. There my pole met the horizontal poles
of Amy and Pia. To help us in our task, someone had covered the top
halves of the poles with whipped cream.
Daintily I lowered my pussy onto the pole. The cream felt
desperately cool against my aroused labia, and I cooed with joy. Then,
recovering myself, I began to pull myself along the pole by placing my
hands in front of me on the pole and pulling my hips forward. Each
movement forward of my hips brought new pleasure to my loins. The
men urged me forward, and held out their hands to catch me if I fell.
The last thing I wanted, though, was to fall into the hands of strange,
loud men. They did not touch me, but by their panting I knew that they
very much wanted to.
Amy and Pia pulled themselves along their respective poles. Pia
sighed as her pole brought her pleasure, Amy was a mixture of desire
and desperation, her bladder being full once more.
At the end of my pole was a broad rubber girdle which prevented
me from pulling myself forward any farther. Each of us girls stopped
where the girdle indicated. Beneath us was a wide, deep well. We
looked at each other with blinking eyes. We were only a few feet apart
now.
Pia looked down at the well. "I hope you can swim," she said to
Amy.
"Not very good, why?" Amy asked, eyeing the water beneath her
with trepidation.
"Because I'm going to knock you in there," Pia replied, indicating
the water beneath them. "And you too," she said to me.
"Why?" I asked.
"The survivor doesn't have to spend the night in the nursury," Pia
said calmly. She was called to and a pillow was tossed up to her. Then
they called me, and tossed me a pillow, which I caught. Amy nearly fell
from her pole trying to catch the pillow the men tossed to her. She
missed the catch and the pillow fell into the water.
"I can't swim!" Amy cried woefully. Somebody threw Pia a pair of
children's water wings. Pia blew them up and then passed them to Amy,
who put them on. She put one of the inflated yellow sleeves over each
of her upper arms.
"You look like a little duckie," I said to Amy.
"That's better than drowning," she pouted. A pillow was tossed to
Pia, who caught it and passed it to Amy. The little girl hugged the soft,
dry pillow.
"Mmm, protec' me from all these evil people," Amy commanded her
pillow.
Bella suddenly appeared from the crowd. She commanded us girls
to kiss. Reluctantly each of us leaned forward and our lips met in a
three-way kiss. Bella commanded us to kiss with our tongues, and we
did so. It was with flushed faces that we finally broke our kiss, again
at Bella's command.
"At the whistle you girls will commence fighting," Bella ordered
us. You will fight until two of you have been knocked into the well. The
losers will have to spend the night in the nursery."
"I'm too big to play in a nursury!" Amy replied. There were howls
of laughter.
"This playroom comes with whips and chains," Pia said softly to
Amy. The girl's eyes bulged in fright. Mine were just as wide.
A loud whistle came to my ears. Suddenly I was hit with a pillow
and nearly lost my balance. I recovered, and retaliated against Pia.
Amy sat watching, like a scared kitten.
"Come on!" Pia said to Amy, giving her a playful swat with her
pillow. "You'd better try your best or I'll send you swimming!"
Amy, her reverie broken, swatted Pia and then me. We older girls
gave her a chance, not hitting too hard in response to her blows. But
with each other we were less merciful.
Soon our pillows began spewing goose down. Amy, by now
gleefully entranced with the fighting, hit harder than ever. It was
about then that I realized we were actually fighting not with pillows,
but with pillow cases stuffed with loose goose down. The pillow cases
had been sewn shut, but the pillow fight was beginning to burst them.
Amy took to hitting only Pia, and the girl warned her not to so
concentrate her blows. But Amy didn't listen. So, finally, Pia landed a
hard one right in Amy's face and the girl went tumbling from her pole.
With a scream she splashed into the water.
"Hey, don't get us wet!" Pia replied to Amy, who took to
floundering in the water like a drowning sailor. The men pulled her out.
I was as afraid of the men as I was of the "nursury." I fought Pia
ever more vigorously, but soon both I and her were battling with empty
pillowcases. All the goose down was floating around us or in the pool
below. Casting the pillowcases aside, we each leaned forward and
grasped the other's flailing arms. We began wrestling, to cheers from
the men. Amy was given a can of CoolWhip and told to squirt us.
Gleefully she complied, making our limbs and bodies slick with spurting
cream.
Pia and I fought on, each putting the other in extremis again and
again over the threatening water. As we fought the water was made
colder and colder. Amy had remarked at the chilliness of the pool when
she'd gotten out of it. Now it was even colder, and I could feel the chill
wafting up onto my ankles.
"You're going to lose anyway, go now before the water gets any
colder!" Pia admonished me.
"No, it's you who is going to get a dunking!" I replied. "Fall now,
so I can pee on you!"
"No peeing unless I say so!" Bella replied, to the remorse of us
both.
Amy got down on her knees before Bella and clasped the woman by
the dress. "Please, ma'am, I must go!" Amy pleaded. Bella lifted her
skirt and commanded Amy to lick her pantied pussy. Amy gasped with
shock and refused.
"You will, soon enough," Bella replied. She told the men to lift
Amy up. They did so, holding the girl's legs apart and keeping her arms
immobile. Bella ordered Amy's legs and bottom held out over the pool.
Then she gave Amy permission to pee, right into the pool! Amy
gratefully complied as Pia and I looked on with shocked dismay. Pee
spouted from between Amy's legs, falling in a clean arc into the pool,
making rings of ripples in the placid water.
With a screech I suddenly fell from my perch. I had lost! But I
clutched Pia by the arm, and she fell right behind me. We both landed in
the pool with a loud SPLOOSH!
"Aaack!" I screamed, as the icy water nearly froze my nipples off!
Pia let out a wail as she suffered the same fate. Suddenly the men,
still holding Amy aloft, tossed her into the water. She screamed as she
was flung into the icy liquid.
Shivering, we girls took to splashing each other. Even Amy,
struggling to stay afloat with her water wings, took to the new game.
Finally we could stand the cold no more and reluctantly paddled to the
side, where Bella, the men, and the "nursury" awaited us.
During the splash fight Pia and I had each secretly peed. The cold
water was more than our bladders could bear. As soon as we'd been
lifted from the pool, however, Bella instructed us to pee.
"Uh, we can't," Pia said, gulping and looking at me. "Not with all
these men here."
"I'll bet," Bella said quietly. "You naughty girls peed in the pool,
didn't you?" Pia and I hung our heads guiltily. Bella knew how badly
we'd needed to go, and now we couldn't.
"But it was so cold," Pia said plaintively.
"Then you should have asked me for permission," Bella said. "I'm
sure I would have given it."
"Oh, of course," Pia, her head still bent, said sarcasticly.
"Do I detect a note of disrespect in your voice, young lady?" Bella
asked Pia.
"No ma'am," Pia replied. But she shivered, and not just from the
cold.
"To the nursury!" Bella announced, and the men who had pulled us
from the pool now gleefully led us from the club. But they still
refrained from touching us, though I think each of us girls, thanks to
the love-liquor, would have welcomed it.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I beheld the "nursury."
It was a playroom for sadists, equipped with manacles, racks, whips,
and all other manner of torturous implements. We girls stood at the
door to the room, trembling.
"Clothing is not permitted within," Bella said. The men eagerly
stripped us of our remaining attire, including our heels. Even Bella
permitted herself to be undressed. Her body was decadently beautiful.
30
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