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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
NIGHT VISITOR
Chapter Three
ÒVivisection. The act or practice of cutting into or otherwise
injuring living animals, especially for the purpose of scientific research,Ó
she read.
ÒYes,Ó Taylor agreed. It wasnÕt, of course, his real name. She didnÕt
know his real name. All she knew was that she was naked, and he was
clothed. In black. He had completely covered himself, except for his face.
He wore a black hat, black gloves, a black scarf of a thin woolen material
around his neck. She guessed he had a great body under his suit coat, from
the cut of it, but she also knew she would never see it. Never touch it.
She wasnÕt permitted to do that.
Taylor looked at her long hair. It tumbled down her bare back and he
knew he would have to tie it up, to expose her more completely, but he
was reluctant to do it just yet. He savored the swish of her hair whenever
she moved her head.
Tabitha touched her right breast. It was as naked as the rest of her.
Gently she stroked her nipple on her right breast. At the same time she
reached down, with her left hand, to the book on the table. She traced the
words in the definition for ÒvivisectionÓ. She wondered what fate her
husband was facing.
They had arrived in a limousine. A man had brought them. Not
Taylor, but another man. He had put his hand to her husbandÕs crotch in the
car, stroking his zippered pants as the car rolled along.
ÒYou are excited,Ó the man in the car, who was named Frank, had said
to James.
ÒYes,Ó TabithaÕs husband had replied.
ÒFear can be exciting,Ó Frank had agreed. ÒYou are aware, of course,
that you can be told nothing about the night in advance. Only that it
involves the loins, the sexual parts, and that any pleasure you receive will
have to be earned. As a reward. For enduring pain.Ó
James had not said anything in reply. Instead, he watched as the
man slowly unzipped him. Frank groped within JamesÕ pants. The young
husbandÕs pride was not hard to find. Frank pulled it out. It was like
yanking a snake out of the ground. Tabitha clutched her husbandÕs arm.
She gasped. But James said nothing, did nothing, except moan, as Frank
fondled his stiffness.
ÒYes,Ó Frank said. ÒMy friends and I will have to see what we can do
about this. It is awfully big. No wonder your wife has been known to
refuse you.Ó Frank squeezed the crown of JamesÕ big organ. ÒBreast
reduction for over-sized women, penis-reduction for over-sized men.
That is probably the answer, donÕt you think?Ó Frank asked James. The
young husband did not answer. Instead he shivered and clutched his wifeÕs
thigh as Frank, palpitating him with a finger just under the base of his
crown, on the underside of his shaft, nearly made him spill himself on his
trousers.
When they arrived they were escorted into a small room. They were
permitted to undress there. No one watched them. But Frank stood
outside, waiting for them to finish. Tabitha remembered watching her
husband undress. He seemed preoccupied. He hardly seemed to notice her.
He seemed more interested in his penis, and how it stuck out in front of
him, and how heavy his balls felt. She wanted to ask him to leave but she
couldnÕt find the strength to do it. When she was naked she looked at
herself in a mirror in the room. Her hair was perfect, as he had ordered
her to wear it, long and loose and well-brushed, glowing with the
attention sheÕd spent all afternoon giving it. Beneath the long veil of her
hair, falling down her back and across her chest and over her breasts and
down her belly to below her navel, she could see her skin gleaming. It was
well tanned, all brown and soft, with the breasts carefully left untanned,
covered by her bikini when she lay in the sun, and her bottom and pubis
untanned as well. She looked at her nails. They were glossy, like white
pearls. James liked them that way. Her toenails matched her fingernails
and her lips were glossy too, as James always liked to see them, but he
was not paying attention to her now. Instead he was slapping his cock. He
watched it with interest as, stiffly erect, it bobbed up and down in front
of him. Each motion of his hand, hitting his cock, not only made his
manhood wobble around but caused his balls, heavy with need, to swing to
and fro.
ÒDo you like doing that?Ó Tabitha asked her husband.
ÒI donÕt know,Ó James replied. ÒDonÕt bother me. Just do as I tell
you. I am giving you as a gift tonight. And myself as well.Ó
They emerged from the room together. They were holding hands, but
JamesÕ hand felt cold in her palm. He kissed her goodbye. Briefly. Then he
let Frank order him to a door that led into a room where men were waiting.
Tabitha was left to stand in the hall, all alone, watching her husbandÕs
bare ass and FrankÕs back. When James was at the door he turned. He
looked at Tabitha.
ÒGo,Ó he told Tabitha. The young wife let out a sob. She turned. She
walked to a door at the other end of the hall. She could feel FrankÕs eyes
on her ass, and her husbandÕs as well, on her white untanned behind. And
she guessed FrankÕs eyes expressed more interest in her ass than her
husbandÕs did. She heard a hand slap against flesh. She turned. She saw
her husbandÕs penis wiggling.
ÒGoodbye,Ó Tabitha said to James.
ÒGoodbye,Ó James answered. He gave her a smile then, a big smile,
and she couldnÕt help smiling in return. Then James opened the door at his
end of the hall. Tabitha heard the laughter of men. It abated, then
increased again as James stepped forward, his penis leading the way.
Tabitha quickly looked away. Hearing a muffled yell, she yanked
open the door in front of her. She rushed inside. She slammed the door
behind her without looking again down the hall, toward where her husband
had been standing.
The man in black was waiting. Taylor. Tabitha turned and regarded
him warily. She felt like a caged animal. Taylor was sitting in a chair,
smoking. He told her to go to the bookshelf and take down the college
dictionary.
ÒVivisection,Ó Tabitha said again, reading the word on the page,
stroking the definition with her finger.
ÒYes,Ó Taylor said. He motioned with his hand. Tabitha lifted her
finger from the dictionary. She looked to where Taylor was pointing.
ÒFetch it,Ó Taylor told Tabitha, as if she were a dog. She tossed back her
hair. She felt the proud swell of her breasts jutting from her chest, with
their too stiff nipples. Her hands slipped behind her and cupped the cheeks
of her ass. Then she walked forward, her head high, almost not noticing
her predicament as she listened to a sharp manly cry in the distance,
beyond the closed door.
She brought him the stick. It was polished wood. She placed it in
his gloved hands. He stroked it, as she heard again a yell from beyond the
door. It was more desperate, almost pleading. She wanted to run from the
room. But she found her knees had locked, her legs had frozen. She was
tingling all up and down her spine, as if her body were trying to slip into
sleep, and her legs already had.
Taylor looked up at her from the comfort of his chair.
ÒTabitha, are you familiar with this item?Ó Taylor asked the young
wife. She did not hear him. She was straining to hear her husband. But
she heard no more cries from beyond the door. She just heard silence.
When Taylor asked her the question again she started.
ÒY- Yes,Ó Tabitha managed to say.
ÒAnd what is it, my dear?Ó Taylor asked, still running a gloved
finger up and down the stick, as if it were a precious treasure.
ÒIt- itÕs a cane,Ó Tabitha replied. Her hands gripped her ass more
firmly, squeezing the white flesh, feeling its warmth in her palms.
ÒAnd has your husband trained you to receive this?Ó Taylor asked
her. His voice was nonchalant, easy, masterfully calm.
ÒN- No,Ó Tabitha said. Quickly she added, ÒThere was-- there was no
need.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Taylor said. ÒYou are a good wife. But you have been
somewhat resistant about your bottom hole, have you not? Denying your
husband the pleasure of its tightness?Ó
Tabitha hung her head. Her long hair was falling down around her
face, over her rounded shoulders, alongside her conical upward-tilted
breasts. Taylor felt his blood race. She was so perfect! How white her
tits were, in contrast to her tanned belly and arms. She had laid in the sun
and browned herself that way, as a perfect submissive, leaving her
breasts covered so that they would look more spectacular and naked when
uncovered.
ÒTurn around, Tabitha,Ó Taylor said. She obeyed. Her hands clung to
her untanned ass. ÒTake your hands away from your bottom, Tabitha,Ó
Taylor told her. She obeyed. He watched her cheeks shiver as she bared
them to him. She rubbed her palms on her belly, out of his sight, letting
him drink in the sight of her naked posterior. He drew off one of his
gloves. Her legs were slightly spread and he tossed his leather glove
between her legs. She looked down at it. ÒBend down,Ó he said. ÒPick it
up.Ó
Tabitha found the strength to bend her knees. She did a kneeling
bend, like a curtsey, discreetly picking up the glove. She turned and gave
it to him. He ordered her to turn around again, to show him her bottom.
Again he tossed the glove to the floor.
ÒDo not bend your knees this time when you pick it up,Ó he instructed
her. ÒSpread your legs more. Do not be afraid to show me the purse of
your pussy as you bend over.Ó
Tabitha shuddered. She altered her stance. She opened her thighs,
placing her feet an armÕs length apart from each other, giving him plenty
of room to see. She bent over. She touched the glove on the floor. Her
hair hung around her and her bosoms quivered nakedly in front of her face.
ÒDonÕt rise,Ó he said, as her tanned painted fingertips touched the
glove. He clutched her thighs. She flinched. She almost rose as she felt
his hands, one bare and the other gloved, impress their grip into her legs.
His face was pushed forward now, for he was leaning toward her, and he
gently blew air into the fig of her pussy.
ÒOooooh!Ó Tabitha gasped.
Taylor sniffed like a hound at her sex. ÒYour cunt smells delicious,Ó
he reported to her. She felt strange, like a master and a servant, bending
for him and yet being appreciated by him. She felt his breath blow
worshipfully into her moistening slit.
He gave her clothes to wear. They felt alien against her skin.
Panties, a brassiere. She did not like how the cups of the brassiere
pressed against her nipples. She felt her slit wetten her panties. He gave
her a skirt to wear. He made her pull on a blouse. He gave her stockings,
high heels, even barrettes for her hair. Everything fit. Everything was
exactly her size, or deliberately a size too small, the panties wedging in
the crack of her ass as soon as she took a step, the brassiere clutching her
breasts, pushing them up and forcing the tit flesh to show itself, whore-
like, above the frilled rim of her low-cut blouse. The shoes, however,
were not too tight. They were just right, albeit with four inch heels.
There was a television in the room. Taylor stood up and went to it,
as Tabitha pulled on the last of her clothes. Her gift-clothes. They were
not hers, hers were in the small room where her husband and she had
undressed. She pulled on the clothes Taylor had given her as he flicked on
the T.V. Tabitha let out a cry. She lost her balance. She fell into the
leather chair he had been sitting in. There, on the T.V., was TabithaÕs
husband. He was stark naked, just as she had left him. His penis was as
stiff as ever. But now he was lying on a wooden table, so that his cock,
sticking up and engorged with its own blood, looked twice as large.
Tabitha could see all her husbandÕs ribs as he lay on the table.
ÒTheyÕre-- theyÕre stretching him!Ó Tabitha gasped.
ÒYes. The rack,Ó Taylor said.
ÒAnd heÕs surrounded by doctors!Ó Tabitha moaned.
ÒVivisection,Ó Taylor said.
ÒNo!Ó Tabitha screamed. She watched as a masked, white-coated
figure at the head of the table turned a wheel. The table moved. It grew
longer. TabithaÕs husband let out a shout and his ribs became more
exposed. His cock seemed to stick out more. In fact his stomach, already
hollow, became more concave, as his body adjusted to the rackÕs new
position. This made JamesÕ risen cock look all the bigger, all the more
vulnerable. Tabitha gasped as she watched a white-masked doctor, his
hands gloved with rubber, extend a knife toward her husbandÕs penis. At
the same moment a second doctor, leaning over her husbandÕs erection,
grasped the member with a forceps. He seized the head. The other doctor,
with the knife, stroked the base of JamesÕ cock.
ÒYes. Vivisection,Ó Taylor observed. Tabitha felt a roiling in her
belly. She put her hands over her eyes.
ÒObserve how full the testicles are,Ó a male voice intoned on the
T.V. Tabitha peeked between her fingers. She saw a close-up of her
husbandÕs balls on the T.V. They looked fat and healthy. His legs had been
forced open to show their fullness. As she watched, a nutcracker,
polished and silver, was placed against her husbandÕs left ball. Pincer-
like, the nutcracker closed on the living nut of her husband. Out of view of
the camera, the body of her husband moved abruptly, futilely, as the
nutcracker squeezed his left ball.
ÒOh!!Ó Tabitha cried. Taylor switched off the T.V. He turned to the
young wife.
ÒI will be your husband for this evening, since your own is
indisposed,Ó he said. ÒBut remember that I do not love you as much as he,
so I will feel freer to use you however I please.Ó Taylor walked over to
Tabitha. He took her arm. She tried to draw away from him, but he made
her stand up. He kissed her, briefly. She offered reluctant lips.
ÒThis is not-- was not--Ó Tabitha said. Her voice came from her
throat in an almost choking sound. She was close to sobbing.
ÒNo, it is not as your husband planned,Ó Taylor said. ÒHe intended for
me merely to give you the cane. Coldly, remotely, detached from you and
not loving you, merely training you.Ó He kissed her again, on her cheek.
ÒYou were never to see my penis, for instance,Ó Taylor said, seeming to
savor the word as he spoke it.
ÒYou must be quite beautiful. With-- Without your clothes on, I
mean,Ó Tabitha stammered. She looked at him. She ran her hands out
along his shoulders. Then she stroked her fingers down along his biceps.
They flexed and hardened under her touch, under his black sleeves.
ÒTonight I will be your husband,Ó Taylor told Tabitha. ÒYou will
receive that which your husband intended for you, but in public, in front of
an audience that can savor your training and perhaps learn from it. Also,
since I am your husband, you will feel that which husbands are meant to
give. Except you will feel it where I like to put it, between the cheeks of
your untanned ass, in your bottom.Ó
ÒNo!Ó Tabitha breathed.
Taylor walked the young wife to a table. There were white gloves
lying there, on the wooden surface of the table. The polished surface.
Each glove had a pearl wristlet around the base of it. Taylor insisted on
putting the gloves on her hands. Then, going to a drawer and fetching a
scissors, he shortened her skirt. He cut away a good two inches of the
fabric. He did not care that he made the hem ragged as he cut it. When he
was finished she looked at herself in a mirror. She was white-gloved and
her gloves matched the color of her panties, which now showed below her
skirt, for he had made her skirt so short that the underside of her bottom
showed. In addition she could see the flesh of her white ass cheeks,
sticking out of her panties which were wedged in her bottomÕs crack.
ÒLetÕs go,Ó Taylor said. He gave Tabitha a sweater. She put it on. It
cloaked her pushed-up breasts but it wasnÕt long enough to cover her
bottom. With her panties still showing, clutching the sweater to herself,
Tabitha let Taylor lead her out of the room and down the hall and out of
the house.
It was windy outside. Rain buffeted them both in the face as they
stepped down off the concrete stoop in front of the house. Taylor put his
arm around Tabitha. He had not planned for rain.
ÒI will get an umbrella,Ó Taylor said. He drew Tabitha back into the
house. He closed the door. She was again in the warmth of the house,
enclosed in it. She could hear the wind howling after her, outside. She
trembled. Somewhere in the coziness of this house her husband was
naked. He was facing doctorÕs knives, his bare penis against their sharp,
deadly edges. One slice and he would not be her husband anymore. She
could not think of it. She pressed herself to Taylor. He accepted her
indifferently, letting her weigh against him as he reached into an umbrella
rack for an umbrella.
ÒThis will keep you dry,Ó Taylor smiled. She saw the leer in his
eyes. He knew she was moist between her legs, the uneasiness of her
arousal moistening the crotch of her panties, under her slit. He opened the
door again. He pulled her out of the house and popped the umbrella open to
shield her from the rain. She felt the wind as it found her skirt. It lifted
it. Headlights blazed in the street as a car passed. Frantically she
clutched at her skirt, pulled it down. She heard Taylor laugh, over the
wind.
ÒYou will show much more than that before the night is through,Ó
Taylor told her. He patted her rump. His hand felt her pantied behind even
as he offered her, with his other hand, the overarching protection of the
umbrella. She felt like a small pet standing beside him, a little animal.
His left hand explored her bottom as his right held the umbrella high.
They walked to the curb. There was a porsche waiting there. She
had seen it as she got out of the limo with her husband. She had admired
it, a white porsche, never dreaming that it belonged to the very man she
would be given to. He unlocked it for her, as the wind tossed her hair and
drew it behind her in long, wind-whipped streams. The umbrella flipped
inside out. Taylor cursed it. He opened the car for her and urged her
within it. He closed the door on her. She turned and looked through the
window. Rain spattered on the glass. She was warm and snug again.
Outside, Taylor struggled with the umbrella. She laughed. It was funny to
see this man, dressed in black, so dominant and all-encompassing in her
life, struggling with an inside-out umbrella.
When the umbrella was fixed, Taylor got into the car. He got in on
the driversÕ side. Rain entered with him as the wind swirled through the
open car door. Tiffany hugged herself. She smelled TaylorÕs aftershave as
he got into the small, enclosed space with her. She felt his warmth, the
bulk of his body beside her. Involuntarily she glanced at his crotch. It
was larger, the pants tenting now in his crotch as he placed his hand on
the PorcheÕs stick shift.
The rain increased in volume as the Porsche left the curb. Taylor
turned on the wipers. They sliced back and forth across the wet
windshield.
Clutching herself, all too aware of the way her ragged-hemmed skirt
rose up to the tops of her thighs, Tabitha asked Taylor,
ÒWhat about James?Ó
ÒYour husband?Ó Taylor asked.
ÒYes,Ó Tabitha said. She let go of herself and reached down and drew
on her skirt. It was no use, the fabric was tight. Her skirt could not be
pulled lower.
Taylor pointed to a T.V. It was set in the front console of the car,
just below the dashboard, down by the stick shift. He reached down and
turned it on. It glowed to life.
ÒA T.V.!Ó Tabitha exclaimed.
ÒYes,Ó Taylor said. ÒIt is closed-circuit. Look who is being
featured.Ó
On the screen, sitting on a bench, was a naked man. His hair was
tousled. He was stark naked. His chest heaved. Tabitha gasped.
ÒJames!Ó she cried.
ÒYes,Ó Taylor nodded. Immediately TabithaÕs gaze fell to her
husbandÕs loins. There, to her heart-beating surprise, his penis stood
forth in all its naked glory. It was untouched, raw and beautiful as ever.
Suspended beneath his cock, at the base of it, spreading along the wooden
bench on which he sat, squashed between the bulk of his erection and the
wood, was his balls. A manÕs voice spoke offscreen.
ÒHow is his penis holding up?Ó
ÒFine. Fine,Ó A second male voice replied.
ÒHe is taking a break right now,Ó a third male voice, muffled as if
behind a mask, said.
ÒHe has not lost himself?Ó the first voice asked.
ÒNo. He nearly burst but he managed to hang on,Ó the second voice
said. Two hands came into view. They wore rubber gloves. Between the
fingers of one hand was a wire.
ÒWe are going to wrap this around your dick, James, for your next
test,Ó a male voice said. The camera zoomed in on the wire as it was
wrapped slowly around JamesÕ penis. Then it zoomed out. The picture
showed James leaning back now, his hands behind him, leaning his upper
body back but with his thighs spread and his dick arching out, spear-like,
from his loins. He watched as they wrapped the wire around his manhood.
ÒElectric shock,Ó a voice intoned. ÒWeÕll see if you can hold on to
your sperm when youÕve got a nice, strong electrical current frying your
dick.Ó There was laughter. Fear showed in JamesÕ eyes, but he did not
flinch as the wire was readied.
Taylor switched off the T.V.
ÒWait!Ó Tabitha cried.
ÒIt is unimportant,Ó Taylor said.
ÒBut--Ó Tabitha protested.
Taylor pulled his Porsche alongside a curb. He switched off the
engine. They were parked before a large house. Taylor grabbed the
umbrella. He got out of the car with difficulty. Tabitha saw that the
crotch of his pants was swollen.
They knocked at the front door to the house. Beside the door a
rainspout gushed. Tabitha looked down at the white rain water gurgling
from the end of the spout. It ran into the grass beside the walkway they
were standing upon. A puddle was forming in the grass. It threatened to
overflow onto the walk.
A woman answered the door. She looked to be TabithaÕs age. But
experience showed in her eyes, a kind of smug glow that seemed to lightly
mock Tabitha as she let the young wife into her home. Taylor followed.
The door was shut and the woman took TaylorÕs umbrella.
ÒMy, my, my,Ó the woman said. Her eyes apprised Taylor. They did
not fail to notice the bulge in his crotch. Her gaze turned again to Tabitha.
The smugness was still there, but mingled now with a certain pity. Was it
pity? Tabitha shivered. ÒWho is the young flower youÕve found this
time?Ó the woman asked Taylor.
ÒMiriam, this is Tabitha,Ó Taylor answered. Miriam gave a slight
curtsey. Tabitha copied her, nervously. Taylor spoke in a clear, strong
voice that might have been ordering an attendant to take care of his car.
ÒHer husband gave her to me to be caned,Ó Taylor said.
ÒOh my,Ó Miriam breathed. ÒCome in and have tea. I did not expect
rain, did you?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Taylor answered.
Miriam led them into a parlor. A maid waited there, in a maidÕs
uniform. She curtsied, low and neat and in a businesslike manner. Her
eyes glanced at TabithaÕs skirt. The young wife blushed. The maid gave a
small, knowing smile, but said only,
ÒTea, madam?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Miriam answered. She gestured to a couch in the middle of
the parlor. Taylor led Tabitha to it. When they reached it, Tabitha turned
around. She smoothed the back of her skirt. She made to sit. ÒNo, no,Ó
Miriam said. ÒPull your panties down first, dear. Down your thighs to your
knees. And lift your skirt. It is a soft, luxurious couch. The finest silk.
Your bottom will be in quite a state soon, dear, and unable to savor such
things. Savor them now, your bare hams luxuriating against the silk.Ó
Anxiously, blushing fiercely, Tabitha obeyed. She drew her panties
down her legs, all the way down to her knees, and then she flipped up the
back of her skirt. She sat. She felt the coolness of the silk on her bottom.
It made her purse her lips, briefly, as she felt the silk touch her soft
naked skin. It was so delicious! So sinful! Gently she rubbed her ass on
the silk, unable to help herself, loving the contact.
ÒYes,Ó Miriam said, gazing down at the young wife. ÒShe is able to
enjoy refined pleasures, I see. And what of you, sir?Ó Miriam asked,
turning to Taylor. ÒYou are rather obviously excited by her. May I induce
you to free yourself?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Taylor said.
ÒOh, you are a disappointment then,Ó Miriam said. ÒWhere is the
husband? Perhaps he will be more sporting.Ó
ÒTurn on your television. You get closed circuit,Ó Taylor said.
ÒAh!Ó Miriam cried. Her eyes grew bright. She hurried to a T.V. in
the corner of the parlor. The maid brought in tea. Taylor was served first,
then Tabitha, as Miriam switched on the set.
There, in a bare wooden room, stood James. His arms were above
him. Iron manacles held his hands aloft. His head was flung back. His
teeth gritted. Tabitha screamed. Taylor put a hand to her mouth. He
caught her tea cup as it wobbled in her fingers and nearly fell. Miriam
smiled. She put a hand to her blouse and rubbed her belly.
On the screen, a bit was forced into JamesÕ mouth. It was wedged
between his teeth. Then the camera left his face and travelled quickly
down his body. It swept down his chest, down over his flat belly, to his
loins. JamesÕ penis poked at the camera. A wire was wrapped around it.
Tabitha saw the wire glow, briefly. JamesÕ penis leapt. There was a
scream. It was masculine, yet desperate, frightened. JamesÕ balls swung
to and fro. The current passing through the wire subsided. JamesÕ dick
remained as hard as ever, but it was swollen, throbbing, as if on the point
of orgasm.
ÒAgain,Ó a male voice said.
ÒNo. Let him rest a minute. Another so soon would spill him,Ó a
second replied.
ÒWhere is the wife? Did she not come also?Ó a third male voice
said. ÒLet him see us fuck her while he remains desperate and unspent.Ó
A man laughed. ÒShe is having her bottom polished. By Taylor,Ó the
man said.
ÒOh. Taylor? He will give her something to remember him by,Ó the
first voice laughed.
ÒHe is too harsh,Ó a second voice said.
Miriam switched off the set.
ÒEnough,Ó Miriam said. ÒWe shall enjoy our tea.Ó She turned to
Taylor and Tabitha. They were sitting together on the couch, Taylor
holding TabithaÕs tea cup for her. He made her drink from it. Her lips
were tremulous. Her eyes showed extreme fright. Miriam hurried over to
her. She sat down beside her. She accepted a cup of tea from the maid and
stroked TabithaÕs hair.
ÒA flogging will do your bottom good,Ó Miriam told Tabitha, after
they had sat in silence for several minutes. ÒLet me give your bottom a
present, before you leave. It will make it easier for you if Taylor should
want to take you there.Ó
The ÔpresentÕ, administered after tea and just before Miriam pulled
up TabithaÕs panties, was a well-oiled finger. Miriam smoothed it around
the rim of TabithaÕs nether hole. Then she stuck it inside. Tabitha
shrieked. Miriam laughed. She greased the young wifeÕs rear passage as
Tabitha stood examining her pretty shoes. She was bent over, submissive,
her ass sticking up high and her head down by her feet. Her legs were
straight, her knees locked. Her arms clutched her ankles as she felt
Miriam, standing tall behind her, work her finger in her bottom hole.
TabithaÕs blonde hair swished around her black, shiny shoes.
ÒOh!Ó Tabitha protested. Her voice escaped from her in gasps. ÒOh!
Oh! Oh!Ó
ÒSilence girl,Ó Miriam answered. ÒMy finger is quite slim. It is
nothing compared to what Taylor has between his legs.Ó
To TabithaÕs surprise, they left the house. They went into the rain
again, Taylor holding the umbrella over her as before, fighting the wind
with it, keeping the droplets of wind-whipped water off her. They got
back into his car. They drove on. They came to a second house. Tabitha
was less anxious now, thinking they would only have tea again. Taylor
grinned to himself. He led her inside.
Tabitha felt curious. Why had they not knocked? Why had they
simply walked into the house, Taylor turning the handle and leading her
in?
ÒIs- is this your house?Ó Tabitha asked. Taylor felt her hand try to
pry its way out of his own. He tightened his grip.
ÒNo,Ó Taylor said. ÒIt is a restaurant. A private restaurant.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Tabitha answered. A woman appeared. She was taller than
Tabitha. She had long blonde hair, like TabithaÕs, but it hung completely
free. It was not held back at the sides by barrettes. The woman was
dressed in black. She wore a long skirt. It stretched from her waist to
below her ankles, where it whispered upon the floor. Beneath the hem of
her skirt Tabitha saw black polished boots. The woman wore black gloves,
made of leather like her boots, that rose to above her elbows. A scarf was
tied around her neck. Amazingly, though, despite all these precautions to
cover herself, the womanÕs breasts and belly were bare. Her tits stuck out
freely, wobbling with every step of her boots. Her belly, slim beneath the
outline of her ribs, showed a dimple-like navel. To TabithaÕs surprise this
tall, imposing woman, dressed in black but with her breasts bouncing
freely, completely ignored her. Instead she went directly to Taylor,
looking only at him.
ÒDinner?Ó the woman asked Taylor.
ÒYes, but I donÕt wish to pay,Ó Taylor answered.
The blonde woman tossed back her hair. She laughed. Looking at
Taylor again, her eyes glowing now, she said,
ÒAh, but nothing is free, sir. Do you wish to pay with whatÕs
between your legs?Ó
Taylor cleared his throat.
ÒYes,Ó Taylor said, after a moment. Tabitha again tried to pull her
hand out of his, but he held onto her tightly.
ÒAre you full?Ó the woman asked Taylor. Tabitha noted that the
woman pushed forward her slim, black-skirted hips. She wondered if the
woman was aware of how she was standing.
ÒOf course,Ó Taylor said.
The woman put her hands to TaylorÕs pants. Her hips remained
pushed forward as she did this, her belly smooth and flat, her skirt tight
about her waist and rustling. She unzipped him. Tabitha gasped as the
black gloved fingers dug into TaylorÕs fly and pulled out his dick. Taylor
was hard. His bare cock pulsed in the womanÕs hands. Clinically, with
only a trace of admiration showing on her lips, the woman inspected
Taylor. He was big in her hands, like a big summer sausage, and she
handled him about like a butcher might handle a fresh piece of meat.
ÒOkay,Ó the woman said at last. She reached again into his pants.
Taylor gave a sigh as her fingers closed round his balls. ÒYes,Ó the woman
said. ÒMy customers will enjoy seeing you. Of course you must leave
empty. That is understood?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Taylor said.
ÒBut with a full belly of course,Ó the woman smiled at Taylor. She
forced him back into his pants. Taylor groaned. She zipped him up. Then
she turned. She led Taylor and Tabitha down a hall. They walked between
the halves of a curtain, hanging in a doorway. As they approached the
doorway Tabitha heard a buzzing of voices. Immediately beyond the
curtain she saw the source of the voices: there were two dozen people,
sitting at tables in couples, engaged in dinner conversation.
Beyond the couples who were eating and talking, and waitresses who
were serving them, was a stage. Tabitha saw a nude woman there. She
was lying on a mattress. As Tabitha looked at her, the womanÕs head fell
back. Her eyes looked directly at Tabitha. Yet the woman appeared not to
see Tabitha, for her eyes were glazed. WhatÕs more, the woman was
looking at Tabitha upside down, for she was lying flat on her back. The
woman let out a moan. Tabitha saw a man hunched over her. He grunted.
Tabitha realized the man was entering the woman, even as she looked at
her, the man and woman copulating on the mattress in the missionary
position.
ÒWhat sort of place--?Ó Tabitha gasped to Taylor.
ÒCome,Ó Taylor said. He pulled on her hand.
ÒUhhh! Uhhhh! Ahhhhh!Ó the woman screamed. Her cries filled the
entire room. But the couples sitting at the tables went on with their
dinner, barely noticing the womanÕs shouts.
ÒHe is quite big for her. I imagine itÕs rather painful,Ó the blonde
hostess remarked. She led Taylor and Tabitha to an empty table. It was
near the stage. A waitress appeared. She held a pad in her hand. She was
topless like the blonde hostess. She wore a white maidÕs apron and cap,
and black stockings and shoes. Tabitha saw that her bottom was bare.
Taylor did too, and as he seated Tabitha, pulling out a chair for her, he
remarked to the waitress,
ÒArenÕt you chilly?Ó
ÒNo, sir,Ó the waitress answered. She turned. Tabitha gasped.
There, on the waitressÕ bare behind, were bright red marks.
ÒAh,Ó Taylor said. ÒMay I add mine to those that have already
favored you?Ó
ÒOf course, sir,Ó the waitress said. ÒBut normally one waits until I
make a mistake.Ó She turned back toward him, facing him. She caught the
cheeks of her bottom with her hands as she did so. Taylor found himself
looking again at her front. Her white apron hung down discreetly in front
of her bush, hiding it from his view.
ÒAh, but then I may put you over my knee?Ó Taylor asked.
ÒYes, sir. If you feel it is necessary,Ó the waitress said. ÒMay I
take your order?Ó She lifted her pad. A moment before it had been
pressed to her bottom, clutched as it was in her right hand. Tabitha
wondered if it was warm from its contact with the girlÕs flesh. The
waitress drew a pencil from behind her right ear. On stage, the woman
being fucked let out a more frenzied series of cries.
Heads turned, looked, as Taylor gave the waitress an order. They
looked at the stage. But they did not seem to notice the woman. Instead,
their gazes seemed to be fixed on the man arched above her.
ÒHeÕs cumming,Ó Tabitha heard a woman at the next table remark.
ÒYes,Ó her male companion agreed. ÒHe has a fine, large cock. I hope
he finds it satisfactorily squeezed.Ó
Taylor did not tell Tabitha what he had ordered. She looked at him,
hoping to catch his eye. Instead he leaned back, a satisfied look on his
face. He gazed at the waitressÕ bottom as she walked away. When she
was out of view his eyes turned to the stage. He watched the couple
finish their act. When they were done, the man pulled a long, fat cock out
of the womanÕs cunt. The diners in the room applauded. Taylor applauded
too, but Tabitha was too frightened to join the applause. She watched as
the man walked away from the mattress. He left the woman lying there.
He made no attempt to help her up, or even to kiss her. As he left the
stage a new man appeared. He was fresh. His penis stuck out like a baton
from his loins. His balls dangled heavily between his legs as he walked,
swinging with promise. The man, noting the applause of the crowd, turned
and showed them himself. He spread his legs so that they could view him
completely, in all his masculine glory. A spotlight switched on, overhead.
It focused on his penis. Every vein on the manÕs dick stood out. His balls
swayed, to and fro, to and fro, the man wiggling his hips to make them
move with greater abandon.
ÒDo you like him?Ó Taylor asked Tabitha. Her eyes were staring at
the man. It took an obvious effort of will for the young wife to tear her
gaze away.
ÒNo,Ó Tabitha said. ÒHe looks cruel.Ó
ÒHe is paid to fuck,Ó Taylor said. ÒHe is like a well-bred animal. He
is a young man who has chosen to earn his living displaying his best asset.
He shows it off here every day, and works it for the audienceÕs pleasure.Ó
ÒAnd the woman?Ó Tabitha asked. Taylor saw that her white-gloved
hands were shaking.
ÒI donÕt know,Ó Taylor said. ÒShe could be anyone. This is not a club
for the admiration of women. It is a club for women and men who like to
watch male strippers. The women onstage are just bellies, cattle. They
are of no consequence.Ó
ÒNo! No!Ó the woman onstage cried. The man with the fresh hard-on,
the newly arrived man onstage, was turning her over. Tabitha looked at
the womanÕs eyes, at her face, at her tousled long hair. ÒNot there! Not in
my bottom!Ó the woman begged. Tabitha clutched at her skirt.
ÒSheÕs very beautiful,Ó Tabitha said.
ÒModels go slumming sometimes,Ó Taylor said.
Suddenly, from a side entrance, the hostess appeared. She strode
across the stage. There was a burst of applause from the crowd. The
hostess did not acknowledge it, though. Her eyes were fixed on the woman
lying on the mattress. The hostess was dressed as before, her lovely hair
free, her bare breasts wobbling temptingly. But now her black-gloved
hands were not empty. In her left hand she carried a whip. In her right,
looking like a scrap of paper she might have retrieved from the floor, she
carried a pair of white cotton panties.
The man with the hard-on put a knee on the mattress. He hovered
over his victim, the woman lying flat on her belly, the woman with her
bottom sticking toward the manÕs cock. With a blase look on his face he
picked up an open jar of vaseline. He picked it up off the mattress. He
dipped his finger into it. Tabitha saw that the man was using a jar that
was already partly empty. She guessed the previous man had been the one
to open it and use it first. Oblivious to this, or perhaps savoring it, the
man took the vaseline from the jar and spread it along his cock.
SWIIIIIP! The hostess slashed her whip across the front of the manÕs
thighs. He grimaced. He dropped the vaseline. His one leg was on the
mattress, his other leg off, and the result of this open-legged posture was
that the audience saw his balls swing to and fro, quite easily and
deliciously, as the whip hit him. There was a cheer.
The hostess reached with a gloved-hand for the treasure dangling
between the manÕs legs. She caught his balls, beneath the quivering iron
bar of his cock.
ÒOoooh, so powerful!Ó The hostess said admiringly to the man. ÒYou
are able to pump life into a girl, to make her belly swell.Ó She squeezed
him. The man winced. ÒYet how strange, for this enormous power is at
the same time so vulnerable,Ó the hostess said to the man. She squeezed
him harder.
ÒCut them off!Ó someone yelled in the crowd. There was laughter.
ÒNow that would make a good show,Ó someone else said. Tabitha
felt her cheeks grow red and flushed. Her heart was in her throat,
palpitating. She did not wish to look, yet at the same time she could not
stop herself! The hostess let go of the manÕs balls. He let out a sigh. She
turned to the woman face-down on the mattress.
ÒAnd what of you?Ó the hostess asked the young woman. ÒYouÕve
only had one. There is still your behind, your mouth, both your hands, and
the tight space between your tits. Relax. You have many cocks yet to
entertain. You will endure them better if you relax and accept.Ó The
woman lifted her head. She opened her mouth to speak. The hostess
leaned over the woman. The hostessÕ breasts hung from her chest, naked
as the woman lying beneath her. She lifted the panties in her black-gloved
hand. She stuffed them into the mouth of the woman lying on the
mattress.
Tabitha saw the look of shock on the nude womanÕs face. Even as she
felt her breath jammed back down her throat, the panties clogging her
mouth, she felt an intrusion in her behind. The man was mounting her. He
forced his hardness, his big bulbing manhood, into the small crevice of her
behind. She felt her anal ring speared. She screamed. The panties stifled
her scream, forcing her to breathe through her nose as she suffered the
probing entry into her ass.
ÒYes, feel the burden of his hardness,Ó the hostess said to the
woman. ÒFeel it slide into your resisting behind. Is it your first? It will
not be your last.Ó She turned to the man. ÒHow is she?Ó the hostess asked
him, as if they were sampling a filly, giving it its first taste of the
saddle.
ÒShe is tight,Ó the man grunted. His voice was dispassionate,
without love, without lust even, it seemed to Tabitha. He might as well
have been putting his foot into a new shoe.
ÒPush,Ó the hostess replied. She glanced at the lights above the
stage. She motioned toward the rafters, where the lights hung. Tabitha
sensed movement among the lights. Suddenly, on a wide screen T.V. near
the bar, which moments before had been showing a sporting event, the
womanÕs ass appeared. In between the pillowy cheeks the manÕs penis
lodged. Tabitha watched it as it quivered and thrust, quivered and thrust.
Each shove of the manÕs hips pushed his dick more deeply into the womanÕs
rear end.
The woman tried to spit out the panties. The hostess leaned over her
and slapped her. Once, hard, across the face. The womanÕs eyes, already
wide, flew wider as she felt the sting of the hostessÕ hand. A red spot
flared on her cheek.
ÒYou will obey,Ó the hostess informed the woman. ÒKeep your
panties in your mouth. Taste them. Wet them with your spit. Eat them if
you like, but do not expel them from your mouth. You are being penetrated
now. Shortly you will be pumped full with everything this man has to
offer. You will feel the rush of his essence filling your bowels, splitting
your cheeks, perhaps even squirting from your tits and running out your
nose!Ó The hostess laughed. She walked behind the man and slashed him
hard with her whip. He groaned. ÒPiston her,Ó the hostess told him. ÒIn
and out. In and out. Do not concern yourself with her tightness. Attack it.
Tear it if you must, only enjoy yourself, relax and let your essence fill her
behind.Ó
Surely the woman would have appreciated any relaxation on the part
of the man, Tabitha reflected. But the man was not yet ready to surrender
his passion. He was enjoying the tightness, the clenching of her ass on his
dick. At the same time the man knew very well that he was being judged
on his ability to hold himself back. The audience wished to see the torture
prolonged, both for himself and the woman. So despite the roiling of his
balls, despite the stifled pleadings of the woman, he continued the attack.
In and out, in and out his penis now moved, sluicing inbetween her tight-
stretched anal ring, filling her rectum and then retreating, only to slide up
it again.
The hostess struck the man a second time. She did it hard, using her
whip on his ass in much the same uncaring way that the man was using the
woman. Tabitha saw the man grunt. His eyes blinked. She watched as the
woman screamed again. The scream managed to escape her mouth, despite
the panties wadded between her lips. The man worked himself harder. He
was like a horse running a race. He sweated under the lights, his manhood
displayed in all its glory on the T.V. How strange it was, Tabitha thought,
that the only covering for the manÕs penis, its only chance at modesty,
was by being half-buried in the rump of the woman!
Her heart beating fast, TabithaÕs head whirled again toward the T.V.
She gazed at the manÕs penis, throbbing as fast as her heart. It was half-
buried in the womanÕs secretmost place where she was accustomed to
relieving her bowels. But now there was no relief. She was plugged, and
the plug was moving, back and forth, threatening with every thrust to
release a torrent of seed into the very place made for expelling things!
Tabitha clapped her hands to her mouth. She felt a scream rise in her
throat. Suddenly, simultaneously, the manÕs cock gave a fateful quiver.
Tabitha heard him shout and she guessed he was releasing himself, even as
the scream exploded from her throat.
ÒAh, he is cumming,Ó Taylor murmured. He watched the T.V. with
interest.
ÒSuch a fine cock,Ó a man sitting at a table near Tabitha murmured.
Even Tabitha, who was alarmed for the woman, could think of nothing but
the flexing, pumping penis. It was so grand! So stiff and hard, like a big
iron bar, shoved ruthlessly into the woman and using her, yes using her
like one might use a urinal or a toilet, using her for the relief of his God-
like prong.
ÒOhhhhhhh!Ó the woman on stage wailed. But everyone ignored her.
They were admiring the fine beast at her rump, the flexing of his muscles,
the heaving of his chest, the tautness of his thighs and calves as he forced
himself deep into her, letting her have all of himself.
ÒIt is finished,Ó the hostess said at last. She gave the man one final
slap on his ass with the whip. It seemed to Tabitha a slap of praise, like
one might give to a prize horse at the end of a race. With her gloved hand
she rubbed his behind. Tabitha watched and remembered brushing a
horseÕs flank when she was 12. The man removed himself from the
womanÕs bottom. The hostess smiled at him, at his prong. It was dangling
now, no longer a stiff spire, its girth and its length shrinking even as the
camera zoomed in for a last, loving close-up. The man pushed forward his
hips. He displayed his pride, like a horse erecting its front hooves to show
its taut belly. The hostess laughed. She turned from him and bent low to
look at the woman. She inspected her behind. ÒYou have been well used,Ó
the hostess said, when she was through touching the womanÕs anal ring,
parting the sperm-bubbling cheeks and testing the pillaged flesh. Tabitha
wanted to know if the woman was still intact, but the hostess did not say,
and the camera did not show. It focussed instead on the man.
He turned. He gave a wave to the crowd. He walked off the stage.
His gait was awkward, a battle-fatigued conqueror leaving the field. He
had arrived with a full pouch, a stiff lance, a lily-white ass. Now his
bottom was all splotched and red. His balls hung emptily. His penis
shrank by the second. But he was proud. He swaggered as he walked and
his dick swung to and fro in front of his muscular thighs.
No sooner had the second man disappeared than a third strutted
forth. He was randy and fresh, unlike the woman who now lay moaning
upon the mattress. Gently the hostess removed the womanÕs panties from
her mouth. She looked at them, holding them up to the light so that all
could see. They were drenched. The saliva in the womanÕs mouth had
soaked her panties. The hostess tossed them out into the crowd. Two men
scrambled for them.
The new lover walked around to the front of the woman. The crowd
got a view of his ass, but the camera found his penis. Tabitha watched the
T.V. as the manÕs dick touched the womanÕs lips. She looked up at him
with resignation in her eyes. Slowly she opened her mouth. Her lips were
wet. The man thrust himself between the gleaming, lipsticked petals. The
woman shrieked. The indriving penis stifled her. She gagged. TabithaÕs
head whirled back toward the stage and she saw the manÕs naked rump
flex. He was spearing her, giving her his prong, giving himself pleasure.
Two more men appeared onstage. One was quite young and he held a
hand to his crotch. The crowed hooted and hollared. Try as he might the
man could not cover his stiffness. His hand was no match for the majesty
of his erect prong. The hostess laughed. When the man came close she
reached out with her gloved hand and grabbed his cock. He yelped. She
pulled him forward. She put his penis into the palm of the woman lying
face down on the mattress.
ÒPump him,Ó the hostess ordered the woman. She was hardly in a
position to obey, she could not even see the cock with a penis in her mouth
and a flat, hairy manÕs belly bumping against her eyes. The hostess lifted
her whip. She cracked it across the womanÕs behind. She shrieked.
Tabitha saw her hair fly as she tried to lift her head. The man in her
mouth grunted. He forced her to keep her head still, putting his hands on
top of her head. ÒPump him!Ó the hostess shouted. She pulled on the
womanÕs wrist. To the delight of the crowd, like a maid lying prone on her
belly in a field by a well, the woman began to pull on the modest young
man. He gave another yelp. Tabitha gave him a slash of her whip and his
hands flew to his ass. Meanwhile, the other man, the one who had arrived
with the shy man, found the womanÕs other hand. He introduced himself to
her hand. Somehow she found the strength to squeeze him. Gripping both
men, with a third penis in her mouth, she began to act like a human
milking machine. The men sighed. They groaned. They cried out. At last,
in a spectacle that was close to miraculous in its timing, they all came
together. Sperm splashed the womanÕs body. It spilled from her mouth.
The crowd roared its approval. It applauded. The men finished their work.
They turned and displayed themselves from the stage, showing their
penises. Then they turned to leave the stage but, just as they did, it was
seen that the shy young man, despite cumming, was still hard! The crowd
laughed. There were whistles of gay approval. The hostess walked up to
the man and gently caressed his prong.
ÒSir, you have more?Ó the hostess asked.
ÒI guess-- I guess so,Ó the young man answered. He passed his hand
in front of himself, trying to hide his dick.
ÒNo, no,Ó the hostess said. With her whip, using the handle, she
batted away his hand from his crotch. She turned to the crowd. ÒWho will
exercise this young steed?Ó she asked. Hands went up. Both female and,
to TabithaÕs surprise, male. The hostess pointed with the handle of her
whip. She selected a young woman. There was a cheer at the womanÕs
table but the woman, surprised, withdrew her hand quickly. There was
laughter.
ÒI did not think--Ó Tabitha heard the woman say. But a man sitting
beside her stood up, and urged her from her chair. He took her hand. He
squeezed it. Helplessly she looked around. But her table-mates offered no
assistance. In fact, quite the opposite: they called out words of
encouragement to her, telling her to go to the stage.
The man and woman left the table together. Her feet stumbled. He
caught her and hustled her along. He took her through a side door.
ÒShe must be undressed first,Ó Taylor explained to Tabitha. ÒIn a
locker room, just off the stage. We will see her in a few minutes.Ó
The two men who had spent themselves left the stage, but the third
remained behind. The hostess toyed with his erection. She played with it
like a dog might with a bone, whacking it lightly, pulling on it, flicking it
with her gloved fingers. But she was careful in handling it. She did not
want to provoke it into spending too soon.
ÒThis is awful,Ó Tabitha said to Taylor. Her head felt light. She
thought she might collapse on the table, like the woman belly-down on the
mattress on the stage. Her bottom hole felt oily. There was vaseline
there. She did not like it. She did not like what it portended. Her crotch
was wet. Her pussy lips tingled. But she did not want to have them
splayed onstage, penetrated, TaylorÕs penis broadcast as it rent her.
Taylor smiled. He was a cat playing with a mouse. He did not know
if he loved dangling the mouse better, by the tail of its apprehension, or
eating it. Tabitha looked away.
ÒIt is why they serve alcohol here,Ó Taylor told her. ÒI suggest you
drink your fill.Ó
ÒNo, I-- when it happens I do not wish to be drunk,Ó Tabitha said.
Her voice faltered as she spoke. She could not believe her words. Had she
said that? She was losing track of her inner self and her outer self. Her
mind was exposing herself without her lips able to silence her thoughts.
ÒThen I reject you,Ó Taylor said. TabithaÕs eyes popped wide. She
looked as if a spectre had suddenly stolen her soul.
ÒRe- Re--Ó Tabitha could not get the word out. The sullied,
unsightly word, the word known by those who are not wanted.
ÒYes I reject you,Ó Taylor said. Abruptly he rose from the table.
ÒBut wait!Ó Tabitha wailed. At the same moment a wail came from
the stage, a womanÕs wail. There was a scuffling of feet. A manÕs voice
barked a sharp command.
ÒCome,Ó Taylor said. The waitress appeared but he ignored her. He
grabbed TabithaÕs arm. She shouted at his touch. His grip was hard, hard
as the lump in the front of his trousers.
They drove in the rain. It came down hard. The windshield wipers
could not keep up. Tabitha sat dripping. They had walked through the rain
to get to their car.
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó Tabitha said at last.
ÒYou need to be trained,Ó Taylor told her. He looked at her. She
bowed her head. She looked at her hands, her white-gloved hands. The
pearls on the gloves he had given her sparkled.
ÒI know,Ó Tabitha said. She gulped as soon as sheÕd said it. Again
she was surprised at her words. Had she said that? Really? Such simple
words, just two, but they were fateful.
Taylor cleared his throat. His hands gripped the wheel. ÒI know of
one other place,Ó Taylor said. ÒIt is called ÔThe ClinicÕ. It is owned by a
husband and wife. I barely know them but perhaps they would be willing
to give you what you need. I think they are having a party tonight. But
perhaps they are not home.Ó He looked at Tabitha. She shuddered in the
darkness, looking at her pearls. They sparkled whenever their car passed
under a street light. ÒFor their parties they invite several guests,Ó Taylor
continued. ÒThen the guests watch as a series of women are brought out.
Young wives, mostly, some girls too. Females who need training.
Boyfriends, husbands bring them. Each girl is referred to as ÔMiss Bottom.Õ
Nothing more. Nothing less. Each is whipped in turn by the man of the
house, with his wife, and the guests, watching. The man is quite
handsome and I must warn you that, like the men at the restaurant, he
attracts as much attention as the naked young women; perhaps more. They
are beautiful objects, but he is the master. I would not mind watching
him in action.Ó
ÒAnd me?Ó Tabitha asked.
ÒYou would have to be a bottom,Ó Taylor said. ÒFirst-timers cannot
be guests. I have avoided the place because they are known to be harsh.
But the woman is very beautiful. Perhaps you would like her.Ó
ÒIÕm-- IÕm not--Ó Tabitha gasped.
ÒOh, if we go, you will be,Ó Taylor said, reading her thoughts. ÒYou
will learn to nurse from a womanÕs breasts and to eat from her slit. You
will feed from her husbandÕs penis. You will do it gladly, because the lash
will make you.Ó
ÒI will not,Ó Tabitha said.
ÒThe lash is persuasive,Ó Taylor answered.
They drove on. Taylor drove aimlessly. She had come to him to be
whipped and he had failed her, he thought. But he was not ready. He was
not the expert, the all-powerful master, she had thought him to be. He
dressed well, spoke imposingly, but he had literally been drafted. Several
gay men interested in her husband had induced him to deal with the wife.
When he saw her, his stomach churned. She was so beautiful! So pure! He
expected the wife of a husband interested in gay sex to look bad. You
know, a woman married simply to provide cover for her husbandÕs
proclivities. But she was perfect! He could not bring himself to whip her.
He wanted to, but the thought alone was too exciting. So he gave her
clothes.
Her husband had passed along her measurements before their visit.
He had bought the clothes for her, with money sent by her husband. But
although the measurements heÕd been given were enticing, heÕd assumed
she was not attractive, or ordinary at best, for a woman might have a
provocative body and still have a plain face. But her face was awesome, a
beautiful mixture of purity and mischief. It was the face of an angel
curious about Hell.
He looked at her. The clothes fit. Nicely. Too nicely. She was
breathtaking in them. They had been purchased for her to wear home.
Neither he nor her husband knew what might happen to the clothes she
arrived in. The might simply be taken off, as proved the case. Or they
might be ripped off. He had expected to rip them off but then the gay men
had decided to have her, and her husband, undress in a small room theyÕd
built for the purpose. They watched the couple undress, through a camera.
It satisfied some perverse need they had. The couple thought they were
enjoying their last moments of privacy, as they undressed, but in fact they
had been broadcast to everyone on the ÔcircuitÕ who wished to see: the gay
men, as well as Miriam.
Tabitha reached for the T.V. in the car. TaylorÕs hand darted out. He
caught her wrist. He felt the pearls wrapped around her slender wrist and
he held them tightly.
ÒI- I want to see my husband,Ó Tabitha said. Taylor let go of her
wrist. Before she could do anything, he reached for the cable under the
T.V. It was the slim cable that fed the signal from the house into the T.V.
Taylor yanked on it. Hard. It popped out of the T.V and hung useless
beneath it.
ÒI am your husband now. For tonight,Ó Taylor told her. She tried
turning on the T.V. anyway, reaching for the knob, but the screen did not
illuminate. She drew her hand away, quickly, like a living thing repulsed
by touching something dead. She bowed her head. Taylor looked at her. He
wondered how much volition she had had in coming to him. In coming to
the house and undressing, stripping naked for him. Stripping naked for
whomever she might meet, for she had no idea who it would be. He
guessed her husband had caused her to do it. Her love for him had allowed
her to do this. She seemed so shy, so fetchingly frightened. Yet he sensed
that, deep down, she wanted this. A real man. Not her husband who was
proving to be gay, but a man who would want her for herself, who would
lust after her as only a heterosexual man could.
And yet he wanted her for her bottom! He had no doubt that her
pussy was snug and tight. He would enjoy it. But it was conventional. It
was the forbidden nature of her ass that intrigued him most. Not just
with her, but with all females. Did she share his curiosity about testing
the forbidden? He did not know. He still did not know, even now, even
after theyÕd spent these hours together, these hesitant, uncertain hours,
driving from place to place, running to the brink together and then
stepping back.
ÒThey are harsh?Ó she asked abruptly, in the darkness. For a moment
he thought she was speaking about the gay men, the men who were
ÔentertainingÕ her husband. Then he realized she might mean the husband
and wife. The couple he had suggested they visit.
ÒYes,Ó he said, clearing his throat as he spoke. She must have
sensed his inner shyness then for she looked at him, intently, her large
eyes gleaming at him in the car.
ÒYou said the woman is harsh too,Ó she said. ÒTowards men. You
would suffer on my behalf?Ó
He gulped. He looked at her. His hands froze on the wheel. ÒYes,Ó he
answered. He felt himself grow very tight in his groin.
Suddenly, she was on him. It startled him, the ferocity she showed.
One minute she was seated meekly beside him and the next she was down
at his crotch, unzipping him and digging into his designer undershorts. He
had no idea what she would do. It was frightening, harrowing. He felt her
sharp-nailed, probing fingers touch his cock. She pulled him out. He felt
the cool air in the car upon his penis. And then her wet mouth stretched
itself and closed over the head of his thing.
ÒUhn,Ó Taylor gasped. The car swerved. She ignored it,
concentrating all of herself on his dick. She sucked him, hard. He watched
the rain splatter down on the windshield as he felt her wet mouth
encompass him.
Tabitha sucked voraciously. She felt the pumping of his meat, in
time with his heart, as she pushed him down her throat. She choked on his
hardness and felt abruptly, deliriously happy. It was so wanton, so
deliciously sinful, to suck another man! She had no permission to do this,
either from the man or her husband, and she loved the sluttish quality of
it, like a common whore paid to service a man in the comfort of his car.
And as she sucked, enjoying the raw, lusty transgressive nature of her act,
she realized she would have to be punished for it. Yes! She would deserve
to be punished after this, especially if she made him spill in his car, his
sperm staining his pants and the seat of his automobile. She sucked him
harder. He groaned.
Taylor looked down at the blonde head in his lap. Her barrettes
gleamed at him as the car passed a street light. She was like a little
animal, a starved little animal, sucking at him with an energy that he
found sorely trying.
ÒTake your mouth off me,Ó he gasped. His enjoyment was rapidly
turning to torture. She would loose him. His balls would unload
themselves embarrassingly in his lap. He would have little to offer the
woman he intended to take her to. The husband and wife would find him
empty, with perhaps just enough for one more go, but without the big,
healthy, tantalizing load he now carried. ÒEnough!Ó he groaned. But she
was unyielding. She worked his virile stiffness with an eagerness that
made up in lustiness for what it lacked in experience. He gripped the
wheel tightly. He tried to drive but it was hard. The car swerved. With
difficulty he managed to avoid putting them both headfirst into a lamp
post. ÒYou must be punished,Ó he said, looking down at her again.
ÒPunished, do you hear? Your naked bottom displayed, the cheeks taunted
and slashed. Disciplined. And your little hole, your little hole where you
are accustomed to relieving yourself, to expelling your shit, it must be
invested. Filled. Not easily but brutally, ruthlessly. The man using you
like the randy little piece of trash you are, using you for his pleasure. His
alone.Ó
ÒNo!Ó she gargled in response, his penis deep in her throat, stifling
her ability to breathe and to speak.
ÒYes,Ó he said. He reached down and gripped her hair. He pulled on
it. He did not want to yank her by her hair, he prized her too much for
that, but the car hit a bump and suddenly his hand flew up, bringing her
head with it. He felt his penis freed from her throat. He looked at her,
wet-lipped, panting. She stared at him and he stared back. His penis
quivered nakedly beneath them both. ÒWe will go to the house,Ó he told
her. ÒTo the couple.Ó She licked her lips. He felt his balls quiver and he
clenched down hard with the muscles of his stomach, his groin, his thighs.
With an inhuman effort of will he prevented himself in that moment from
spurting up, up like a geyser, all over her pretty, inquisitive face.
30
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