---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
WANTON WINTER
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eleven
I listened to my aunt squeal beside me. I peered at her through my
veil of hair, which thankfully hung over my face, partly concealing my
frightened eyes from the men. And from my aunt too, whom I thought
regarded her punishment as being all the worse because I was right there
to watch it.
How supple is the whip, I thought to myself, as I lay shivering on the
rug. It swings and bites, and leaves its mark on the skin. Even when it is
skillfully laid, with a view only to stinging, and not to marking, it
produces an agony of emotion. For in our circumstances, nude before the
men, with the bearskin tickling us in our most intimate places, there is
not just plain, ordinary suffering. The whipping is far more embarrassing
than that, producing, in such circumstances, an erotic suffering. One is
forced not only to cry out in pain, but to become lost in frantic arousal.
My aunt, so cool and calm, so perfect and poised, was now being reduced to
a wet, suffering wretch, with a flaming bottom to boot!
Katharina paused. She reached down and stroked my auntÕs thighs.
ÒLegs apart, Rebecca,Ó she said. ÒDonÕt make the whip fall with greater
severity than it must.Ó My aunt, trying to babble something over her gag,
tears flooding her cheeks and wetting the bit stuffed into her mouth,
obeyed. She opened her legs.
ÒShe is a good bitch,Ó one of the men observed, puffing on his pipe.
Katharina rewarded my aunt with a tickling intrusion of her latex-clad
finger in my auntÕs cunt.
ÒYes, darling, I know it hurts,Ó Katharina said to my aunt. ÒBut you
will stay nice and slim with the whip applied often to your bottom. Think
how some girls complain: ÔOh, I donÕt want to exercise,Õ they say. ÔI know
I should lose some calories but it is SO boring, jogging, or doing the stair-
master.Õ Not for you such excuses, eh, my darling? The whip ensures that
you keep that lovely ass of yours moving!Ó
Katharina removed her fingers from my auntÕs sex. She struck the
whip anew across my auntÕs bare bottom, doing it almost playfully,
admiring the frantic wrigglings she induced in my auntÕs derriere with the
length of whip cord. I lay weeping beside my aunt, shocked and ashamed
that I must wait for it, that the men could indulge their wicked lust by
leering at me lying rabbit-like on the rug, knowing I must suffer the same
as my aunt was getting. Worse, there was no hurry in the matter; it
wasnÕt like being sent to the principalÕs office at school. My punishment
might come in this hour, or perhaps in the next, or perhaps not until dawn.
Gretchen kept the men well liquored. Despite the pain of the whipping, and
my own fright, there was a languid pace to the affair, a indolence verging
on worshipfulness; the men truly loved our bodies, loved seeing us laid so
bare before them, loved counting the stripes slowly applied. They did not
wish to hurry such an ordeal. It was, I think, not only a test for us,
suffering as we were, but for them too, for they were made captive by
their zippered trousers. At last a man, the youngest of them, complained
to Mr. Johanson that he feared he would lose himself in his pants.
ÒWhat? You want to take your dick out here, in front of us all?
WeÕre not the Village People, you know,Ó Mr. Johanson said.
ÒHe mistakes, I think, your living room for a urinal,Ó the man with
the grey hair said. The other men laughed. Crude jokes were told.
My aunt was whipped some more; slowly, deliberately, Katharina
always waiting for her whip-induced wrigglings to cease before giving her
a new stroke. At last, when my auntÕs bottom was red-lined like a road
map, Katharina laid her whip on the small table next to her chair. She did
it discreetly, as if laying aside a precious family heirloom. I wondered
how many other girls had lain here before the men, their bottoms exposed,
feeling the whip as it struck with slow, methodical vigor.
ÒNow I must test your holes,Ó Katharina said. She picked up the
dildo. She squirted lubricant on it. With a latex-gloved hand she smeared
the lubricant up and down the dildo until it was thickly coated. ÒAre you
ready?Ó she asked, leaning forward. My aunt gave a frantic squeak. ÒI
shall add a little more lubricant to it by inserting it first up your vagina,Ó
Katharina told my aunt. ÒYou are not a virgin, are you? Shake your head,
darling. Now is the time to confess if youÕve been excessively chaste. I
understand, though, that youÕve felt the throbbing of a cock; is that a ÔyesÕ
you are giving me? Good. I shall go slow. This thing is made of ivory,
after all. ItÕs quite hard. I do not wish to make you unsuitable for
marriage with it, only to check that you can receive a well-hung penis up
you. If you are tight we have all night; donÕt worry about that.Ó
My aunt was penetrated. When her cunt had been reamed, Katharina
taking her only to a moderate depth, owing to the implacable hardness of
the implement, Katharina turned her attention to my auntÕs backside.
ÒDonÕt look so distressed, dear,Ó Katharina said. ÒI know your
butthole is quite small. I shall be as gentle as I can be, without, of
course, disobeying our Master by not doing you at all. Keep your legs apart
and help me by relaxing yourself, if you can. There is nothing that a good
girl canÕt offer to her lover if she tries; obey, and open. Repeat those
words to yourself, as I push this into your butt.Ó
Again my aunt was probed. The tusk went as deep as Katharina could
push it without causing my aunt to be injured. When she withdrew it, my
aunt weeping beside me, Katharina took it to the bathroom and cleaned the
residue of my auntÕs anal juices off it. Then Katharina returned, a bright
smile on her face, and informed me that my turn had come.
ÒNoooo!Ó I cried. My bottomcheeks bunched. Instinctively I snapped
my thighs shut.
ÒLegs apart, Chloe!Ó Katharina yelled. She snapped the whip across
my bottom. My Òno,Ó just fading, assumed a higher pitch. In desperation I
looked at my aunt. She was still crying, though now less from her own
humiliation and pain than from remorse at seeing what was about to
happen to me.
ÒAuntie! Save me!Ó I wanted to shout, but the bit kept me silent. My
aunt could only blink at me, like a mute mare. I could only blink back, a
mute pony.
Again the whip fell. My hips thrashed under the sting. Oh, would
that I had sat in a bees nest, and been stung quickly and all at once! How
awful it was to be tortured like this, with each whipstroke applied in such
a slow, intelligent fashion. Katharina knew just how to make a girl wince
and she had not the least respect for my youth or beauty. She was young
and beautiful herself, and had, no doubt, suffered as I was now suffering.
She knew I could take it. She knew I could endure it and survive. Tears
would be shed, skin reddened, but when it was over I would still be me,
albeit with a bottom I wouldnÕt want to sit on.
ÒHow responsive she is!Ó Katharina said, sitting primly behind me,
gazing down at me where I lay on the floor. Again she reminded me to
keep my legs open. ÒShow your pretty cunt, Chloe,Ó Katharina said. ÒThe
men long to admire your sex throughout your torment, and you must not
deny them. I know you fear being hit there -- what girl wouldnÕt want to
close her legs against the thrashing of the whip? However, I did not
strike your auntÕs little pie and I do not expect to hit yours. But you must
be obedient, Chloe. Else our Master might tell me to hit you there, and I
must never refuse him.Ó
The whip continued to fall. Hours passed. Sometimes I closed my
legs, only to receive a deeper, more painful cut, which impelled me to open
myself again. I grunted and moaned under my lashing. The whipÕs bite was
not to be escaped. I tried rolling on my hip, but only one position was
allowed, that of lying flat on my belly, with my legs open and showing my
sex. There was one other way I might have received it; kneeling, boldly
showing off my fig and my ass. But I was not that sort of girl. Not yet,
anyway.
Once, parting my legs, I suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over me.
Katharina announced to the men that I was peeing! I looked up in shock.
The men leered at me, like vultures sensing blood. To my horror, I felt the
rug wettening rapidly under my crotch. I tried to check myself; I could
not. The flames in my bottom kept me from exerting the control over
myself that I needed. And I sensed I was full, having lain there for hours.
Beside me my aunt, suddenly losing herself, also began peeing. Katharina
scolded us both but, to my surprise, gave no new strokes to my aunt and
said nothing about having to punish me more severely for what IÕd done to
the rug.
ÒJust keep your legs open,Ó Katharina reminded me. ÒGood girls
know how to be bad when they visit Mr. Johanson.Ó
Then it was that the strangest part of our torture ensued. Two men
went out, and another stroke was laid onto my bottom. Soon, as my hips
jiggled with burning remorse, they returned. They carried a new bearskin
with them. Our shackles were undone and our bits removed. I wished to
fall into my auntÕs arms but instead we were separated, myself being
placed very gingerly on Mr. JohansonÕs knee, and my aunt on the knee of the
grey-haired man. We were served tea by Gretchen. We tried refusing, still
crying from our ordeal, but Mr. Johanson ordered us to take the cups. He
made us drink them, lifting the cups to our mouths, he lifting mine and the
grey-haired man lifting my auntsÕ. We watched through tear-filled eyes
as the bearskin weÕd peed on was rolled up and taken away. In its place
the new one was laid. When weÕd finished our tea we were ordered to lie
down upon it. We obeyed, Katharina promising us both utter torment if we
refused. When we were bitted and shackled again, my aunt and I stealing a
quick kiss from each other as our wrists were bound, my whipping
resumed.
How strange an interlude that had been! I think I shall never forget
it, perched on Mr. JohansonÕs knee, his strong, muscular thigh pressing into
my wet sex. With my bottom throbbing, I watched as a new bearskin was
unrolled for me and my aunt to lie upon. And the tea-- how delicious it
tasted, in such awful circumstances! Was it the bite of the whip that gave
that tea such flavor? I hope not. I wouldnÕt want to need a whipping every
time I lusted for a nice cup of tea!
When Katharina at last laid the whip aside, she picked up the ivory
dildo. She lubed it for me. I lay shuddering on the rug, trying to compress
my ass as tight as I could. I wished I could close my thighs.
ÒLegs open, Chloe,Ó Katharina reminded me. ÒYour whipping is done-
- unless you disobey.Ó
She speared me. It went deep. I tried resisting her but it only made
the men roar with laughter. When at last my cunt was fully explored, she
went for my backside. Again the men laughed as I tried my best to fend
her off. I could not; she just kept working it in me, taking as long as she
needed, until at last my exhausted bottom gave way. My aunt wept beside
me. She did not like seeing me used in so humiliating a manner. To get
revenge on the men I peed on their rug again. My aunt did too. But the men
were not as cruel as they pretended to be, for they did not punish us any
more that night, despite two ruined rugs.
We were led away in that condition, wet with ourselves, unfulfilled,
our bottoms hot and burning from the whip. We walked awkwardly. We
were put in our cells by Jordan and Katharina. Jordan had not been present
while we were with the men, but now he was back, and my aunt seemed to
find his presence, despite her sore bottom, reassuring. She tried to kiss
him but he refused.
ÒNot yet, my dear,Ó Jordan told my aunt.
ÒAh, please!Ó Rebecca cried. Jordan guided her to her bed and made
her lie upon it. I flopped on my own. I dared not lie on my back. Tenderly I
reached back and brushed my ass cheeks with my fingers.
ÒOooho!Ó I moaned.
ÒYes, you did very well,Ó Katharina, standing over me, reassured me.
The sheets on my bed smelled crisp and clean. They were fresh, newly-
changed. ÒGive me your hands, Chloe,Ó Katharina ordered. She took hold of
my wrists and lifted my fingertips off of my flaming ass. She spread my
hands wide apart. She bound them that way, spread-eagled, with the black
straps affixed to the bed. Jordan did the same for my aunt.
ÒYou will not gratify yourself like this,Ó Jordan told my aunt. ÒAnd
so you will not have to suffer any more from the whip tonight than you
already have.Ó
ÒThank you,Ó my aunt moaned. ÒBut--?Ó she asked, her question
hanging in the air like an unfulfilled promise.
ÒBut what?Ó Katharina asked in a cheerful voice, binding my own
hands.
ÒShe wishes to be fucked,Ó Jordan said. His voice was suddenly
husky. I looked through the bars between my cell and my auntÕs and saw a
substantial bulge in his trousers.
ÒI know quite well what she wants, Jordan dear. And you too,
hmmm?Ó Katharina said. ÒShe must have cream put upon her bottom. Get
a pot and do it for her. That she must have, the cream. The other, your
penis, is a mere luxury, and this is a prison. If she is good she will get the
other later.Ó
ÒOooh!Ó I said again, my voice almost a wail.
ÒWhat? You need it too?Ó Katharina asked me. ÒYou are only 13,
darling. DonÕt you think youÕre a little too young for it?Ó
ÒKatharina!Ó I shouted. ÒYou just plumbed me wit an elephant tusk!Ó
My voice came out half-mangled, desire and pain frustrating my ability to
speak.
ÒYes, and I found you receptive,Ó Katharina said. ÒBut of course I
could not bring you to orgasm. Only a man may do that. Be good and get
some rest-- IÕm sure the men will have a good sperming in store for you
sometime soon.Ó
ÒOh, why must we WAIT for it?!Ó my aunt cried. Her voice was an
agony of emotion.
ÒBecause you are proper young ladies, and thatÕs what proper young
ladies do,Ó Katharina said. ÒNow no more complaining or I will have to put
you to sleep with bits in your mouths. I should not wish to risk
suffocating you in your sleep, accidentally, so not another word-- and
donÕt shout too loudly while IÕm creaming your pretty asses!Ó
ÒMay I take my leave?Ó Jordan asked. His voice was still husky. He
looked with longing eyes at my auntÕs upturned rump. Her legs were open,
quite wide, and I knew they werenÕt that wide simply because she felt a
need to be ÔgoodÕ.
ÒYes,Ó Katharina said.
ÒThank you,Ó Jordan said. His voice sounded tight, as if he were
being slowly strangled.
ÒDo it out in the snow if you must,Ó Katharina told him. ÒThe white
of your sperm will be impossible to see, against the snow.Ó
ÒThank you,Ó Jordan said.
ÒHe is--?Ó my aunt asked, her voice frantic. Her legs opened wider
on the clean sheets of her bed.
ÒYes, darling,Ó Katharina said. ÒHe is a man. Do you think he can
bear it, seeing you that way? Of course Master would not permit him to
jack off. He prefers his servants randy and unfulfilled, just like his
prisoners. But I wonÕt tell on him if he does it to himself, especially
outdoors, where he can kick some snow over his ejaculate after heÕs
finished, hiding his sin. As for the rest of the men, what do you think
Gretchen and I are for? Hmmm? As soon as I finish creaming your
bottom, IÕm going to have a whole new job ahead of me. That soft bearskin
you so enjoyed peeing on will come in quite handy, I can assure you. I do
hope the men change it again before IÕm forced to get on it.Ó
My aunt and I fell asleep to the distant sound of Katharina and
Gretchen entertaining the men. It was a bawdy party, with both females
screaming at times, and the men giving whoops of joy, apparently in
competition with one another to see which of them could give the girls the
best jousting.
ÒAuntie?Ó I asked, in the darkness, the oil lamps in the hall
extinguished to let us sleep.
ÒYes?Ó Rebecca replied.
ÒIÕm sorry if I got you into this,Ó I said.
ÒMe too,Ó Rebecca replied.
We slept late. We were awakened at noon by Katharina. You would
not have known how sheÕd spent the previous night; her makeup was
perfect, her hair brushed and lovely, her eyes bright. She wore a trim pair
of slacks. When she turned, I saw that a hole had been cut in the back of
them. It was raggedly cut. The cheeks of her bottom pressed plumply
through it, straining the fabric, for the hole was not quite large enough to
let her entire ass through, compressing the cheeks as they bulged out of
the back of her pants. She wore no panties. Upon her exposed rump I saw
fading whip marks.
Katrina wore a white blouse. It was unbuttoned. Her breasts loomed
into it, full and unhindered by any bra. The blouse was knotted so that her
belly showed, her tanned flesh and her dimpled navel. The knotting of her
blouse caused it to cup and offer her breasts, lifting them slightly. Her
red nipples could be seen through the white fabric. The sleeves of her
blouse were long. They ended in large, decorative cuffs that were tightly
buttoned. She wore black boots on her legs which reached to her knees. A
blue scarf decorated her neck.
Katharina laid out clothes for us on our beds; first on mine, then on
my auntÕs. We looked at her, sleepily. We tugged at the bonds that held
our wrists.
ÒI have to go to the bathroom,Ó I told her, feeling a sudden need.
ÒIÕm sure you do,Ó Katharina replied. ÒYouÕve had a long sleep.Ó
ÒKatharina--Ó my aunt said. She blushed.
ÒYes?Ó Katharina asked. My auntÕs blush deepened.
ÒI have to go to,Ó my aunt told her.
When Katharina had let us out of our beds, we hurried to the chamber
pot in each of our cells. Then, after weÕd relieved ourselves, she called us
both to her.
ÒChloe. Rebecca. Come here please,Ó Katharina said. She made us
lie down on my auntÕs bed, on our bellies, and she inspected our asses. It
was embarrassing, feeling her poke at us. We gasped at her touch, but
when she was finished she told us we were both in perfect health.
ÒAnd no worse off than me,Ó Katharina said, with a wink. I knew
what she meant. Her own bottom bore marks from the nightÕs festivities.
I looked longingly at the clothes sheÕd laid out.
ÒKatharina, are we going home?Ó I asked hopefully.
ÒOH no,Ó Katharina said. ÒBut you are going to be able to dress. You
canÕt be prisoners without a trial, and today a real judge is coming, to
hear your case.Ó
ÒYouÕre kidding,Ó my aunt gasped.
ÒWould I lie to you, Rebecca dear?Ó Katharina asked. She patted my
auntÕs behind.
ÒOuch! DonÕt do that,Ó my aunt said.
ÒGet dressed and you shall see what will happen,Ó Katharina said.
ÒAfter breakfast, of course. Today you get to dine in the main building, at
a real table, with real chairs.Ó
ÒCan I have a pillow on mine?Ó I asked.
ÒIÕll ask Master,Ó Katharina said.
We dressed in our cells. Then Katharina led us down the long hall to
the living room. There, by the fire where the previous night she had so
cruelly whipped us, she cloaked us in furs. She unlocked the front door.
She shoved it open. It swung heavily on its hinges, slowly, as if reluctant
to see us released. Katharina had to give it an extra push. We stepped out
into the frigid air.
Outside, it was early afternoon. The clouds hung thick and low above
us. A flock of geese went squawking over our heads. I watched with envy
as they crossed unhindered over the enclosing walls of our prison, then
over our heads, and out again over the far wall, passing it by without so
much as a glance. We followed a path newly cut in the drifts of snow with
a shovel. Rebecca and I wore open-toed pumps. We were grateful for the
path.
Under my fur I wore normal clothes, a skirt and blouse. A bra
enclosed my breasts under my blouse. Panties had been offered to me, but
I had reluctantly left them on my bed; my bottom was still too tender
from last night.
We followed the path to a second building. It was made of stone,
just like the one weÕd left. We went inside and the cook took our coats.
ÒDid you sleep well?Ó the cook asked us with a smirk.
ÒFine, thank you,Ó my aunt said, blushing. I wanted to stick my
tongue out at the cook but feared Katharina would scold me.
Mr. Johanson was standing in the breakfast room, waiting for us,
when we entered. He was smoking a pipe but he put it down in an ash tray
when he saw us. He went to the table and drew out my chair for me. It
was a high-backed wooden chair. There was a large pillow on the chairÕs
seat. He smiled at me. I avoided his eyes. As I sat down in the chair my
breath caught in my throat.
ÒOooch!Ó I said.
ÒThere, there, no noise please,Ó Katharina called out. ÒSpeak only if
youÕre spoken to.Ó She drew out my auntÕs chair. There was a pillow on
her chair too. My aunt bit her lip and sat down.
ÒOh!Ó she gasped.
Mr. Johanson scooted me forward, so that my knees slipped under the
table cloth. Gretchen asked me if I would like grapefruit.
ÒYes, but please put honey on it. ItÕs too sour otherwise,Ó I said.
ÒAnd you, madam?Ó Gretchen asked my aunt.
ÒIÕll have mine the same way. But not too much honey,Ó my aunt
said.
ÒI like mine smothered!Ó I exclaimed.
ÒChloe, be good,Ó Katharina said. She seated herself between me and
my aunt. Mr. Johanson sat down at the head of our table.
Breakfast proved agonizingly normal. I found myself lost in
forboding as I ate with Rebecca and Katharina. Gretchen served us. When
we were finished eating Mr. Johanson got up and went to my aunt.
ÒNow we must see about your case,Ó he said, leaning down and
making a failed attempt to whisper in my auntÕs ear.
ÒI should like to go home now,Ó Rebecca said.
ÒPerhaps the judge will release you,Ó Mr. Johanson said. ÒAfter all,
she is a woman.Ó
ÒI hope she knows IÕm only 13!Ó I said.
ÒChloe, not another word please,Ó Katharina warned me. ÒEspecially
in court.Ó
I sensed it had once been a small private chapel. It was at the back
of the building where weÕd eaten breakfast. It was lit by candles. There
was a rostrum and, facing it, a low wooden bench. There were two pillows
on the bench. Katharina told us to sit down on them. We sat. We looked
guiltily up at the rostrum.
ÒI hope she lets us go home,Ó I whispered to my aunt.
ÒChloe! No speaking or IÕll tell the judge,Ó Katharina snapped. My
aunt blushed, and inched up her skirt.
We waited in the stillness of the chapel. I shifted on my pillow. The
candles burned lower. Just as I was beginning to wonder if I could get
away with asking Katharina for a drink of water, I heard footsteps. I
turned. I saw a woman enter the back of the chapel. She had on a fur coat.
Immediately her eyes met mine. Quickly I turned away. I guessed she was
the judge.
ÒAre those the girls?Ó the woman asked. She was speaking to Mr.
Johanson, who IÕd glimpsed coming in behind her.
ÒYes,Ó he said. ÒThey are good girls. I should like to see them tried
before theyÕre punished any further.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó the judge said. ÒI shall see that justice is done.Ó I
listened as Mr. Johanson took her cloak. She thanked him and walked past
us and stepped up onto the rostrum. ÒPlease remain seated,Ó the judge
said. She sat down. We looked at her, but she shuffled through a sheaf of
papers. ÒIs the boy here?Ó she asked.
ÒYes,Ó Mr. Johanson said.
ÒBring him in, please,Ó the judge said.
I turned. I couldnÕt help it. To my breathtaking surprise I watched
as a young man entered the back of the chapel. He was naked, except for a
pair of too-small nylon briefs on his hips.
ÒThe swimmer!Ó I cried.
ÒChloe!Ó Katharina scolded. I felt my hands fly to my face. I gasped
as I watched the young man step up to the judge. He stood before her
rostrum and looked up at her.
ÒFace the girls, please,Ó the judge told him. He turned and looked at
us. He was expressionless. He did not undress us with his eyes as other
men did. ÒNow lower your swim suit,Ó the judge told him. He did. His
dong popped out. Quickly it grew in size, without anyone touching it, until
it was as big and stiff as a grocery store sausage. My aunt inched her
skirt higher on her thighs. I felt my own hands drop to my legs and tug at
the hem of mine. Slowly, not wanting to, but unable to resist, I began
pulling it up.
ÒGirls,Ó the judge said, looking past the young man at us. ÒI am
going to ask this young boy to masturbate. He will masturbate himself
until he comes. Please watch out that he doesnÕt spurt on you. Scoot
apart from each other if you must, so that he has room to shoot. If you are
truly good girls, you will be able to watch him and not tickle yourselves. I
think you know what I mean by that. But if you are bad girls, you will be
unable to resist. By your own actions you will condemn yourselves, or
not.Ó
ÒOh!Ó I cried. I looked at my aunt. Already her dress was rucked up
so that her cunny could almost be seen. I squeezed my legs together.
ÒChloe!Ó the judge snapped. ÒIs that your name?Ó I nodded. ÒLegs
apart, Chloe,Ó the judge told me. ÒI know it feels good to squeeze your
thighs together. None of that. Keep yourself open, and your fingers out of
your snatch.Ó
ÒYes, maÕam,Ó I said, forlornly. I wondered if I could, as the
handsome young stud standing in front of me began to fondle himself.
ÒOh, let me do it!Ó my aunt cried.
ÒAuntie! No!Ó I shouted. But she leapt off the bench, and grabbed his
cock. I watched as she put his mouth to the head of his penis. It was
large. It split her lips apart and she gagged as she tried to force him into
her mouth. My hands flew between my legs. I rubbed myself, frantically.
ÒOooh! Auntie! Stop!!!Ó I cried. But I couldnÕt stop myself. We had been
teased too much, the night before, and spanked too hard. We were wanton.
We were condemned.
The judge struck her rostrum with her fist. ÒThis trial is over!Ó she
shouted. ÒTake those two sluts away. There is no need for that fine young
man to waste his sperm on them!Ó
ÒOh, please!Ó my aunt cried. But her words were mangled, for she
had the boyÕs dick in her mouth.
ÒSomebody stop me!Ó I screeched. My fingers worked furiously in my
snatch.
Behind us, Mr. Johanson laughed. ÒI knew he would do it,Ó he said.
ÒNo girls can resist him!Ó
Men came into the chapel. They tore my aunt from the boy and
handcuffed her hands behind her. My own hands were pulled from my pie
and drawn behind me so that I couldnÕt touch myself. They were cuffed. I
was made to stand up. I tried wedging my fingers between my legs. A man
grabbed my wrists and lifted them up my back.
ÒOwww!Ó I cried.
ÒBe good, Chloe,Ó Katharina said.
We were led out. We were taken back to our cells. Katharina
followed and dismissed the men when they had put us into our cells. I sat
handcuffed on my bed. The sheet of my bed was cool against my bottom.
My skirt lay around me, not tucked under me, but lying on my thighs and
draping out onto the bed. Katharina came and sat down beside me. She
turned my face toward her. She kissed me on my lips. It was a full, open-
mouthed kiss, the kind women arenÕt supposed to share.
ÒYou were so wonderfully bad in court,Ó Katharina complimented me.
Her breath was hot on my face.
ÒOh, I didnÕt mean to be!Ó I gasped. My breath flowed into her mouth.
Her tongue stabbed; I resisted her with my own. We fought, mouth to
mouth. My tongue retreated and she conquered me with hers.
ÒTouch me between my legs,Ó I begged.
ÒLike this?Ó Katharina asked. She wedged a hand between my thighs.
She found my nest and tickled it with her fingers.
ÒOh, yes!Ó I shouted.
ÒOh, my!Ó my aunt cried out, sitting somewhere behind us, locked in
her own cell.
ÒMmmmf!Ó I gasped. I shoved him hips forward. KatharinaÕs fingers
delved deeper.
ÒYou are very naughty, Chloe,Ó Katharina told me.
ÒI know, I know, I know,Ó I babbled, my tongue twisting round hers,
my words little more than gutteral sounds. Our saliva mingled. My nest
wettened her fingers.
Suddenly, beyond the walls of my cell, I heard a rapping sound. It
sounded like a hammer; it was just loud enough to make my head jerk up.
ÒOh. Let us see what is going on out there,Ó Katharina said. She
smiled at me. She stood up. She went to the back of my cell and pulled on
a small square of wood. It had a drawing stenciled to the front of it, a
crude drawing of a whip, and I had only paid it glancing attention. Now
Katharina pulled at the piece of wood, which was thick and old, the
drawing almost lost in the aging wood. She undid a metal latch, hidden
behind the square of wood, and swung the wood away from the wall,
revealing a window. It was nothing more than a hole cut into the stone
wall. There was a single iron bar down through its middle. Nonetheless I
felt a cold chill as the outside air blew in.
ÒMmmm, theyÕre fast. Already they have begun to build the
scaffold,Ó Katharina said.
ÒThe waht?!Ó my aunt gasped, sitting in her cell behind me. I felt my
skin crawl. I tried to speak but found no words came out.
Katharina tossed back her hair. ÒYes, you have both been tried, and
now you must both be punished,Ó Katharina said. She was still looking out
the window but her words were directed to myself and my aunt. ÒThis is a
real prison, girls,Ó she said. ÒYou must face Justice in all its aspects,
right down to the cruel slicing of a birch upon your bottoms in the
courtyard. It is no matter that it is winter. If Justice is to be served,
Master will spare no expense to see that it is done, even bringing men in
to work in the snow to build what is needed.Ó She turned. There was a
broad grin upon her face and for a moment I hoped she might break out
laughing, and tell us that it was all a joke. But my aunt knew she wasnÕt
joking and immediately began sobbing.
KatharinaÕs smile disappeared. She frowned. She left my cell and
went to my aunt. She caught RebeccaÕs chin in her hand and lifted her
face.
ÒYou will be good,Ó she said, peering into RebeccaÕs eyes. ÒI know
you are afraid, not only for yourself, but for your little niece as well.
Nonetheless you have been promised that no harm will come to you if you
obey. You must be challenged, Rebecca. Mr. Johanson is going great
expense for you. Yes, *for* you, Rebecca. Learn to endure and enjoy. You
will have greater confidence as a result of it, and your niece too, I
promise you. Now get some rest. You will need your strength for the
scaffold.Ó
The men spent all day building the platform. They worked in the
snow, shoveling it out of their way. But new snow fell, as if sent by the
Gods to spare myself and my aunt. The men cursed. Yet they kept working,
and by nightfall the scaffold was done. I gazed out my window at it. The
moon rose and gave the ice forming on it an ominous gleam.
We were fed in our cells. Our hands were untied to allow us to eat.
There was fresh bread, warm from the oven, plus large slices of smoked
ham. We were given no utensils. We ate with our fingers. We drank water
from wooden cups. It was well water, drawn from a well in the prison
yard. Katharina sat with us and watched us as we ate our meal. For
dessert we were given fresh strawberries, flown in from Africa.
At last, in a discomfiture of worry, exhausted by the sounds of
hammering that had echoed in our cells all day, my aunt and I fell asleep. I
dreamed of whips. Men pursued me, caught me. They roasted me over a
fire and ate me.
In the wee hours of the morning I heard footsteps. I awoke. I lay in
bed with my hands bound to the steel frame of my bed. They were bound
prayer fashion, above my head; Katharina had shown me the modest
courtesy of not spread-eagleing me. My legs were free. I drew them up
into a foetal position, guarding myself as best I could against the
intruders.
Dark figures passed my cell. They went into the cell of my aunt.
They roused her from sleep. She gasped. Someone told her roughly to be
quiet. They unfastened her bound wrists. They pulled her nude body out of
bed. They slipped her into a fur coat.
ÒCome,Ó a voice said. It was a womanÕs voice. It sounded like the
judge who had convicted us. My aunt stumbled as they drew her forward.
A man picked her up and carried her. I watched her bare feet, kicking
futiley, as she was taken down the hall.
ÒWould you like to watch?Ó a voice asked. I turned my head. One
figure remained, gliding slowly out of my auntÕs cell, through the door of
it which now stood open.
ÒKatharina!Ó I gasped. I had not noticed her lingering behind, so
transfixed was I by the sight of my auntÕs feet.
ÒYes, you must watch,Ó Katharina told me. ÒYou are next, after all.
Come, let me undo your hands.Ó
I could not resist. I lay waiting as Katharina came into my cell and
unlocked me from the bedframe. I felt limp and unresistant, so full was
my fear. She drew my naked figure out of bed. The floor was cold against
my feet. She made me walk to the window. She drew it open. We peered
out, together.
I shivered against Katharina as I watched. She hugged me close. She
whispered consoling words in my ears.
ÒLook! See how they keep her warm in the fur coat,Ó Katharina said.
ÒThey take the greatest care of her, even now.Ó We watched together,
Katharina embracing me from behind, as my aunt, bundled against the cold,
was led up the wooden steps of the scaffolding. A large block waited for
her. It was saddle-shaped. My auntÕs knees gave way when she saw it and
she had to be carried again. She was placed upon it, her belly in the
saddle. Her fur-cloaked arms were drawn down in front of her and
fastened to rings on the far side of the saddle. Then her legs were drawn
apart. I saw my auntÕs breath cooling in the air as they bound her ankles
to rings on the platformÕs floor.
ÒLift her coat. Bare her bottom,Ó a voice said in the darkness. A
hand reached down and took hold of the back of my auntÕs coat and, as if
unfurling a prize of great worth, lifted it grandly up and laid it upon her
back. In fact it was my auntÕs ass that had been unveiled, and it shone
nakedly in the light of the moon. I detected a trembling of her cheeks.
ÒOh, auntie!Ó I gasped.
ÒHush, darling,Ó Katharina said.
ÒShe is cold like that, with her bottom uncovered,Ó I said.
ÒIt will be hot soon,Ó Katharina whispered.
How I managed to watch my auntÕs punishment, knowing my own was
to follow, I do not know. Perhaps it was the comforting embrace of
Katharina that kept me from fainting. A man took a dozen birch rods and
used them with implacable force against my auntÕs ass. She screamed.
Her cries roused an owl and he went hooting overhead.
When at last my auntÕs punishment was complete they unshackled
her. She stepped awkwardly down the platform, then fainted, and had to
be carried back. It was then that I too fainted. I awoke with my ass
already bared, my arms and legs tied off, the saddle hugging my belly.
They used the birch on me and I cried. My bottom, though bared to
the cold, was hot as blazes by the time they finished. The fur coat hurt
my skin when the drew it down over my haunches.
ÒShe is well punished,Ó I heard the judge say. ÒShe has paid the
penance. Take her away.Ó
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Find the box labelled ÒMain ArchiveÓ.
Change ÒMain ArchiveÓ to ÒComplete ArchiveÓ.
Next, do you see a blank box labelled ÒPower SearchÓ ?
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen
that has ÒPower SearchÓ written next to it.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over
a decade, itÕs AlessandraÕs Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION