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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
WANTON WINTER
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Chapter Seventeen
ÒAuntie, arenÕt you going to wear panties?Ó I asked. I stood in my
auntÕs bedroom, slipping on the clothes sheÕd laid out for me. My aunt
laughed. She stepped into a pair of jeans. She was bare-legged and bare-
waisted. Her fuzzy cunt, between her legs, lay like an invitation between
the white-skinned flanks of her thighs.
ÒI cannot wear panties,Ó Rebecca said. ÒYouÕll see.Ó She drew on the
jeans. When she had pulled them all the way up to her waist I saw how
curious they were: along the sides of each of her legs, from the very base
of her pantlegs all the way up to her unbelted waist, her jeans exposed a
line of flesh. How odd it was to see her white skin showing, all the way
up the sides of her pants! The jeans would have fallen right off her, but
for latticed laces, like very long shoe laces, that ran up her legs on both
sides and held her pants together. Between the criss-crossed laces her
skin, fine and white, would act like a siren call to every male who saw
her.
I watched as my aunt bent and carefully tied the lacework into twin
bows at the sides of each of her hips. I wondered how many menÕs fingers
would play at those bows, tempted to untie them, but waiting for
permission from my aunt. It would be an exciting party!
ÒAuntie,Ó I said. ÒWhat if someone unzips me?Ó I looked at the
romper sheÕd given me. It had a big steel zipper down its front; an
invitation as alluring as my auntÕs.
ÒYou mustnÕt let them,Ó Rebecca answered. ÒNot during cocktails,
anyway. We are to be seen, but not touched. Of course the men will want
to tease a little,Ó Rebecca said. Her voice trailed off. She seemed lost in
her thoughts as she picked up her top. She was bare-chested and she
slipped it on over her tits, not bothering with a bra. Again, I saw, it would
have spoiled the effect. For, like a bustier, it was to be laced up the
front, the front halves of her top drawing close but leaving a space of skin
between them. My aunt slipped on the sleeveless top and drew the laces
together. She made a bow with them, where her bosoms pressed together.
Twin straps, slipped over her shoulders, held her top on; she looked like a
sexy cheerleader in her long, side-laced jeans and her top with its laces
intersecting her vertically up the middle. To complete her ensemble my
aunt put on white cowboy boots.
I zipped myself into my romper. It was black. It had no sleeves and
no straps. However, it hugged my neck, rather like a turtle-neck shirt that
had lost its sleeves and the fabric needed to cover the shoulders. I tugged
on my rompersÕ shorts.
ÒAuntie, I can feel my bottomcheeks sticking out!Ó I cried. I turned
and looked in a mirror behind me and saw that the shorts of my romper let
the lowest part of my firm bottom hang out.
ÒOh my, perhaps IÕve chosen one thatÕs a size too small,Ó my aunt
said. She walked over to me and tugged at the back of my romper, where
my bottom was revealing itself. ÒYou must lace up the sides of your
romper,Ó Rebecca said.
ÒBut it will make my shorts even smaller!Ó I said.
ÒHere, I will tie the bows loosely,Ó my aunt said.
ÒFortunately the slits only go up a little,Ó I told her. ÒOtherwise I
wouldnÕt be able to wear panties.Ó
ÒI know,Ó Rebecca said.
When I was clad in my romper, my laces tight and my big zipper
zipped up, my aunt gave me boots. They were black. She had me sit on her
bed and she slipped them on my feet.
ÒChloe,Ó my aunt said, looking up at me. She brushed back her silky
brown hair from her face. ÒYou know weÕll be staying the night?Ó
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I said.
ÒAnd that, since you are the youngest, they will wish to have a little
game with you?Ó Rebecca asked me.
ÒYes,Ó I said. I gulped as I said it.
ÒYou do not have to come if you do not wish to,Ó Rebecca told me.
ÒBut if I do, then I must come?Ó I asked. My hair hung down in my
eyes, like a protective veil. My aunt laughed and reached up and pushed it
aside.
ÒYes,Ó Rebecca said. ÒIt is to celebrate the coming of spring. We
will open ourselves, to encourage the spring to come. I went to a party
like this a year ago. It was quite pleasant. The men were like bees,
eagerly moving from flower to flower, though they pumped nectar in
rather than drawing it out.Ó My aunt blushed.
ÒI donÕt want to stay home alone,Ó I said simply.
ÒVery well,Ó Rebecca said.
We travelled through sleet to a house a half-hour away. It was in a
wood. The trees provided some shelter from the down-falling snow as we
passed under their branches. A man was waiting for us when we arrived,
outside, bundled in a large coat. My aunt parked in front of the car and he
helped us out. She gave him her car keys.
ÒDonÕt dent it. ItÕs new,Ó my aunt told the man.
ÒI am the best valet in France, mademoiselle,Ó the man smiled. My
aunt took my hand and we mounted the steps to the house. She let me ring
the doorbell.
The woman who answered the door was young; a college freshman.
The party was in her house and she came to the door wearing a shirred top
with a daring neckline. It was fuchsia in color. Its brightness recalled
the flowers that would soon be returning with the spring. She had long
hair; it was pulled back and held in place by a headband. The headband was
fuchsia, like her top. She wore yellow pants that matched her yellow hair.
Spiked, open-toed heels elevated her feet.
ÒHi! IÕm Glenda,Ó the woman said. Her eyes were bright. She
apologized for not hurrying more quickly to the door, but we had actually
not waited long at all. She drew us inside and closed the door to keep out
the frigid air. Within I saw a fire crackling; casually dressed guests stood
around it, sipping hot drinks. Glenda took our coats. She smiled at our
outfits. We mingled with the other guests and were given drinks to warm
us.
ÒShe is so young,Ó the woman said, looking at me. ÒThere are, I hope,
no misunderstandings?Ó she turned her gaze to my aunt.
ÒNo,Ó Rebecca said. ÒShe has an early bedtime, of course.Ó The
bright-eyed blondeÕs eyes widened and her lips broke into a smile.
ÒYes! Very well, then,Ó our hostess said. She looked at me again and
her eyes lingered on my zipper. ÒPerhaps in half an hour or so?Ó Glenda
asked, still speaking to my aunt, though it was me she was staring at.
ÒYes. That will be fine,Ó Rebecca said.
For the next half hour I chatted as amiable as the rest of the young
ladies present. Men fondled my zipper but left it hanging, unzipped, from
the collar-like band of cloth around my neck. At last Rebecca looked at me
and said, in a soft voice, ÒChloe. I think itÕs time for you to go to bed
now.Ó
ÒAuntie, I donÕt want to yet,Ó I complained. I had a cute, hunky guy
paying lots of attention to me and I didnÕt want to risk losing him to
someone else.
ÒChloe, you must kiss everyone goodnight before you go up,Ó Glenda
told me. I looked at the hunky guy I was sitting with and smiled.
ÒWell, alright then,Ó I said. ÒIf you insist.Ó I leaned forward and
kissed the guy. I was too short to kiss his face so I kissed his chest. He
sighed and smiled and placed his hands around my waist. He bent and
kissed both cheeks on my face.
ÒWill I see you soon?Ó he asked me.
ÒYou will,Ó Glenda answered for me. Then she drew me out of his
arms and made me kiss all the other men. It was quite thrilling! I had no
choice in the matter and so I felt not the least bit demeaned by being so
free with myself. Then Glenda had me kiss all the women too. I liked that
less, but she let me get away with just a peck on each of their cheeks.
ÒVery well. Up to bed with you now,Ó Glenda told me.
It was a curious bedroom. The bed looked comfy enough, but beside
it, on a table, there was a microphone. I wondered at it. Next to the
microphone was an empty glass. Beside that, standing erect on the floor,
was a wine holder with an ice bucket. A bottle of wine was cradled by the
bucket, and packed all around with ice.
Glenda told me to undress. She walked over to the wine holder. She
pulled the bottle out of the ice. She took a towel that was hanging along
the side of the wine holder and wiped moisture from the ice off of the
bottle. Then, as I stood undressing for bed, she picked up a bottle opener
that lay on the table. She popped the wine bottleÕs cork.
Unknown to me, the pop of the wine bottle was heard by the guests
downstairs.
ÒWhere are my p.j.Õs?Ó I asked in all innocence, when I had stripped
for bed.
ÒDid you bring your pajamas along?Ó Glenda asked, pouring wine into
the glass on the table.
ÒNo,Ó I said. ÒI forgot. DonÕt you have any p.j.Õs for me?Ó
ÒI think youÕre a little old to still be wearing p.j.Õs,Ó Glenda said.
She finished filling the glass and set the bottle on the table.
ÒI wear a nightie sometimes,Ó I said. I ran my fingers along my
waist, down my hips, and finally cupped my bottom. ÒDo you have a nightie
I could borrow?Ó I asked.
Glenda looked at me. She picked up the glass and held it in her
hands, but didnÕt drink from it. ÒI do have something IÕd like you to wear,
but it isnÕt a nightie,Ó she told me.
ÒWhat?Ó I asked. ÒI should wear something, donÕt you think?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Glenda said. ÒCome over here. IÕll show you what I have for
you.Ó
I walked over to the small table beside the bed. Glenda, still holding
the glass of wine, picked up a small box. It looked about the size of a box
you receive in a jewelry store when you buy a ring. She handed it to me.
ÒWhatÕs this?Ó I asked.
ÒInside is what I want you to wear,Ó Glenda told me.
ÒI donÕt think a nightie can fit in here,Ó I protested.
ÒOpen it,Ó Glenda said.
The box was wrapped. I undid the ribbon and then tore off the glossy
red paper. I pulled up the boxÕs lid.
ÒOh!Ó I cried. Inside, coiled and folded so that it would fit, and just
barely at that, was a black band of leather. I took it out of the box. I
looked at it. ÒItÕs a dog collar,Ó I said.
ÒYes. Put it on,Ó Glenda said.
ÒAnd thereÕs a key in the box,Ó I said.
ÒThatÕs so I can lock it when youÕve got it around your neck,Ó Glenda
told me. Put it on and IÕll lock it for you and then you can have your wine.Ó
ÒI donÕt drink wine before I go to bed,Ó I told her. ÒIÕm too little.Ó
ÒTonight you will,Ó Glenda said. ÒSnug in your collar, holding the
glass delicately like a young woman should, but with both hands, so you
donÕt drop it. ItÕs a very expensive glass.Ó
I did as I was told. I had trouble with the collarÕs buckle and Glenda
helped me get it closed. Then she locked it. When I had the collar securely
around my neck she handed me the glass of wine and made me drink all of
it.
ÒHow expensive is this glass?Ó I asked, when IÕd drunk all the wine
in it. I was feeling a bit tipsy and the glass seemed to wobble in my
hands.
ÒVery expensive,Ó Glenda said. ÒIn fact, the glass is so expensive,
that if you broke it IÕd have to make you pay me back.Ó
ÒHow?Ó I asked. I held the glass in my fingers, suddenly aware of
the wooden floor under my feet.
ÒThe only way I suppose a girl your age can,Ó Glenda said.
ÒHandcuffed to the bed, with your mouth and your belly put to good use, as
a place where my guests could lodge themselves for relief. The men with
their penises washed by your tongue and buried in your quim, the women
with their pussies sucked dry by your lips.Ó
ÒOhhhh,Ó I shivered.
ÒWould you like to be used that way, as a ball-washer, and cunt
licker?Ó Glenda asked me.
ÒNooo,Ó I said.
ÒIt would be hard work, but it would be rewarding,Ó Glenda said. She
touched the glass in my hands with her finger, almost as if to push it from
my grasp. ÒImagine-- all the men, burying themselves in you, pumping you
full with their seed, stretching your mouth and your cunt with their
rampant hardness. And the women, settling themselves on your mouth,
poking fingers all the while into your nest. You would taste everyone. You
have nothing to fear-- all my guests are free from disease, from any
imperfection whatever. You would help welcome the Spring back to France
by being free with your lips and your tongue, by causing us all to spill
ourselves in dewy abandon. Do you not think Winter has become tiresome?
Is it not time for petals to open and flowers to bud? Should not the
creeks unfreeze and flow freely again, discharging their waters into the
sea? Hmmm?Ó She asked me.
I dropped the glass. I did not mean to, but the wine was making my
head spin and GlendaÕs words were like an erotic tonic to my soul,
enflaming it, making me wet where before I was dry. Her finger stood
poised in the air, between my cupped hands, after the glass had fallen. I
wondered if sheÕd helped me drop it.
ÒOh!Ó I cried. I looked at the shattered remnants of the glass on the
floor.
ÒSuch an extravagant waste, like the lilies that bloom in the field in
springtime, only to be burned by the summer heat,Ó Glenda smiled. ÒGet in
bed, dear. Lie with your arms uplifted, over your head. I must go
downstairs to get cuffs for you. Wait for me. Wait and dream of what
must happen once you are bound.Ó
ÒI donÕt want to lick everyone,Ó I said.
ÒI will wipe your face for you between tastings,Ó Glenda said. ÒWith
a hot towel. It will comfort you in your labors.Ó She patted my belly.
ÒAnd IÕll douche you also, when itÕs over. Get in bed. Do not resist me on
this point. You are our Spring Delight and we must use you to welcome the
change of seasons.Ó
I climbed into the bed. Glenda patted my ass, making me squirm. I
lay on my back. She leaned over me and grasped my wrists and lay them
above my head.
ÒWait like this,Ó Glenda told me. ÒOpen, receptive. Part your legs a
little and dwell on how you are already moist there. Shall I tickle you a
little to make you more aroused? No? Do not be excessively demure,
Chloe. Open your mouth and let me see your tongue. Ah, such a little
pointer it is! You will learn tonight how to work it like a boyÕs penis. It
will be the stamen intruding into our privates. Do not make a face at the
thought of that, Chloe. You must learn to like it. Be free with your lips,
like the earth is free with itself, giving up beautiful stems of new
flowers that repollinate the earth. How like a white lily you look, lying
there! Do not ask for the sheet, dear. I can see you wish to ask for it but
do not. Are you chilly? You will be warm soon. Lie exposed like the bare
earth in springtime, after the frost has melted. Soon you will be refulgent
with seed. The men will pump it into you and the women will coat your
lips with honey. Natural honey, from their own bodies. Lie quietly now.
Keep your lips apart and your legs open. Lie still and think of how fertile
you are, and how you will bud when we are upon you. Look! Already your
nipples are stiff. Is your little spot of pleasure between your legs also
feeling excited? Be good, Chloe, and enjoy the excitement you feel. It
will be greatly increased soon, like the abundance of the fields.Ó
Glenda left. I lay in bed, waiting. I stared at the ceiling. I licked
my lips. I was too overwhelmed by my thoughts to hear Glenda go
downstairs, but my mind had settled somewhat by the time she returned.
From amidst the laughter and chatter of the guests downstairs, I heard the
sudden, approaching ÔclickÕ ÔclickÕ ÔclickÕ of GlendaÕs heels on the wooden
stairs. Then she was in the hall, and a moment later she burst through the
doorway of my room.
Was it my room? I felt like it ought to be. It was bedtime, and I
was in bed, and naked to boot! Surely I should be allowed my privacy. I
gasped as I saw what Glenda held in her hands. Twin cuffs, made of
leather. The bands were thick. A lock dangled from the end of each cuff.
I lifted my hands to draw them down to my waist, to take them away
from the headboard where Glenda intended to bind them. But she was
quick. She leapt onto the bed and straddled me and grabbed at my hands.
ÒOh no you donÕt,Ó Glenda said.
ÒI donÕt wanna!Ó I cried. There was a cessation of the conversation
downstairs. I twisted upon the bed. Glenda grunted. All had been sweet
words and kind, delicate gestures up until now. But an animal
ruthlessness suddenly overtook us. Glenda the predator, me the prey. We
grappled. She held my wrists. I fought back, trying to get a hold on her.
But I was smaller and weaker than her. I managed only to clutch at the
air.
ÒDown, girl!Ó Glenda said. Her voice was low and husky. I gasped as
her strength overtook me.
ÒEeek!Ó I cried, as my wrists slammed down upon the bed. She had
me. I could not get away. I thrust up my hips but her straddling legs kept
me trapped.
ÒThatÕs better,Ó Glenda said, her voice suddenly soft and loving
again. Still holding my wrists pressed to the bed, she leaned down and
kissed me. Full on the lips. As if my mouth were her own, to lick and kiss
as she pleased. Her lips lingered on mine. Finally, flushed and excited,
she drew her face up from mine. Her hair was tousled. I knew mine was
too. I bit my lip and waited quietly while she fitted the leather cuffs to
my wrists. I squirmed a little but did not try to escape again. She had
won; I was her prize.
I lay fastened to my bed, listening as the guests partied downstairs.
Glenda was among them again, and I heard her compliment my beauty and
poise. She did not mention our struggle. I wondered at my nudity. The
covering sheet lay beneath me. I was bared to the world. Would they like
what they saw? I was only 13. Would they find my breasts big enough, my
waist small enough, my hips flared enough? I closed my eyes. I felt my
breath flow into me and out again, in and out, waiting.
Much later I lay still on the bed, bound as before, but in an entirely
different state. My moist lips had become dry, for I had shared my saliva
with everyoneÕs loins at the party. In return they had splattered my mouth
with sperm or wet it with cunt juice. But their offerings had now dried on
my lips, leaving them caked and aching. My nether lips were no better off;
my cunt felt mauled, its lips forced to exude their moisture until they had
none left. My nipples burned. Everyone had sucked upon them. All of my
private places were raw and soiled. I was completely violated, and yet
somehow fulfilled. Sperm swam in my tummy. In my womb. In my
backside, for they had rolled me on my belly for a time, in order to open
and fill my bottom. Now I lay once more on my back, my legs apart, my
hands bound above my head. I felt my breath again, in and out, in and out. I
was rich with their spendings, and they were gone now, leaving me to my
thoughts.
Glenda came into my room. She looked at me. She was fresh from
the shower and dressed in new clothes.
ÒWhat? Are you still here?Ó she smirked. She came to my bedside.
She leaned over me and with slow, gentle hands, admiring me all the
while, she undid my wrists. ÒI would kiss you but you are so... well
lathered,Ó she giggled. She helped me up. ÒCome, you must have a bath,Ó
she said.
ÒWhere is my auntie?Ó I managed to say.
ÒWith a gentleman,Ó Glenda replied. She scooted me off the bed and I
tried to stand, only to fall back again. I sat on the bed. My legs hung open.
I was too weary to close them. Glenda poked at my snatch with her finger.
ÒDonÕt,Ó I protested. My breasts wobbled as I spoke. She laughed.
ÒStand up, silly, or IÕll have to punish you,Ó Glenda said.
I listened for the guests downstairs but I heard nothing. They were
all gone. They had disappeared and only I was left, caked with their
spendings.
ÒI donÕt want a bath,Ó I said disconsolately.
ÒOf course you do,Ó Glenda answered. ÒCome, I will wash you. You
can lie back and enjoy the bubbles.Ó
Unsteadily I walked to the bathroom, Glenda guiding and holding me.
I found a hot tub waiting; bubbles loomed within it. Glenda lifted my leg,
made me step over the porcelain edge of the tub and into the water.
ÒOuch! ItÕs hot!Ó I said. She let me stand there, one foot in the
water, until I grew accustomed to the heat.
ÒNow put in your other foot,Ó Glenda said. I stepped in. The water
engulfed my foot but I liked the heat now.
ÒSit down when youÕre ready,Ó Glenda said.
When at last I went downstairs again my aunt was there, fully
dressed, looking immaculate, though there was a warm glow in her cheeks
that spoke volumes. Beside her was a well-dressed gentleman. He held
her hand, lightly, as if it were the only intimacy they had shared, though
his face, too, was suffused with a ruddy glow. They smiled at me.
ÒDid you have a good sleep?Ó my aunt asked me. There was
innocence in her eyes.
ÒYes, auntie,Ó I replied. I wondered at her expression. Did she know,
or not? I put my finger to my lips. I glanced at the man. He smiled at me.
ÒA girl her age needs plenty of sleep,Ó he said.
ÒYes,Ó my aunt replied.
30
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