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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} bottom trials for little Brittney
Date: Fri, 9 Mar 2001 11:10:02 -0500
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---------------------------------------------------------------
Masturbator may die from over-exertion!
Dear God,
I am a sinner! I have spent 40 years masturbating over
Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Club, Club Confidential, Club
International, Chic, Hawk, Cheri, Barely Legal, Tight, Just Come of Age,
Live Young Girls, Candy Girls, and Finally Legal, plus assorted
videotapes featuring Chasey Lain and other ladies of the porno world.
I need help. But help costs money. Please send my prayer for
help out into the world! If somebody sends me $1.00 I will send them an
example of my sinfulness, a booklet full of my sinful thoughts which I
am trying to rid myself of. Then people can pray for me more
specifically, for my specific sins, instead of just in a general way.
What do you think? Can you help me? Please do, if you can. I
promise that your $1.00 will not be used for any masturbating
whatsoever, not even for masturbating over naked little girls in books
by David Hamilton (another sin of mine). If I break this promise, let
God punish me by causing me to kill myself through over-masturbation!!!
Twice already I have been driven to my deathbed from masturbating. It
is a terrible thing, to lie in bed totally depleted, with your hands all
sticky. Sometimes I even get so excited over naked girls that I have
diarrhea! People can die from having too much diarrhea, especially if
they've depleted their sperm count.
Please include an age statement (18 or over) if you send me
$1.00. Then I will know that no children are aware of my masturbating,
or of my sinful thoughts which cause me to masturbate.
Yours in God,
holy joe
c/o Roller
P.O. Box 221430
Sacramento, CA 95822
p.s. May God bless you!
note: Make checks payable to Andrew Roller. Prayer-donations
arriving without an age statement will receive a booklet on the
importance of God in our life.
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
LAZY? See special print-out form at bottom of posting.
(International ordering info at bottom of posting too.)
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
TORRID TWEENS
Chapter Seven
"I do not think I want to go," Brittney said, as Elgina helped
her into a pair of panties. They were Kiri's panties. Elgina had had
to take a needle and thread to them and scissors, and cut them and resew
them to a smaller size to fit Brittney's still-childish hips.
"Shush. It is necessary," Elgina told the girl.
"You must be trained," Kiri said, dressing herself in her own
clothes. Samuel still stuck out hard as a bone, despite putting his
pants on. His penis stuck out through his fly.
"I don't wanna be trained," Brittney said. She let Elgina
zipper her into an altered skirt; one of Kiri's.
"There is a benefit to doing it, dear," Elgina said to the
young girl. "You have rare beauty and potential. If you go through
with it it will put you on quite a high level. You could spend much of
the rest of your life having quite whatever you wish for."
"Weally?" Brittney asked, her voice quivering a little. The
excitement of their mysterious journey welled up yet once more within
her. Ever since the phone conversation she'd been wet with herself;
before it, even. She longed to touch herself now, and regretted the
panties, which wettened immediately upon being pressed up to her cunt.
The soft clinging gusset of them was nice, but it prevented somewhat her
own half-seeking fingers, which waving about in the air expectantly,
wishing they could touch herself as Kiri had made bold to do with her
own self.
"Be good," Elgina said. She paused and lightly slapped
Brittney's right hand, which had dropped to her skirt and was lifting
the hem. Then she fitted a white bra, again one of Kiri's bras, to
Brittney's tits. The girl's nipples were hard. She felt the soft
impressing cups. She sighed. The bra had not needed to be altered;
Brittney was as big in the chest as Kiri was, despite four years of
difference in age between them. "My, such big boobies," Elgina tutted.
"Yes I'm quite jealous," Kiri, dressing behind Brittney, said.
Her voice was smooth, cool. She was eager for more fun but she had
taken the edge off herself, that first biting edge that makes things so
tense, by masturbating on the floor while her finger was still up
Brittney's bottom.
"I don't wanna bra," Brittney sighed, as Elgina reached back
around behind her and hooked the clasp.
"How am I supposed to drive with a fucking hard on?" Samuel
asked. He pulled on a shirt, a collared one this time, the fabric
stretching across his chest and shaping itself to his shoulders.
"You'll manage," Elgina said.
"I should whack him off or something," Kiri said dolefully,
pitying her boyfriend's big erection. "Does it hurt?" she asked Samuel.
"Being hard always hurts... a little. Especially when you're
this fucking hard," Samuel said. He gave a jab in the air with his
dick.
"Oook! Don't put that in my mouth again!" Brittney warned,
though she had Elgina between herself and the man.
"That's another thing she needs to learn. How to take cock,"
Kiri said.
"My bottom's sore," Brittney whined. She gave a little jig
with her hips as Elgina reached for one of Kiri's blouse, which she had
already laid out for her.
"Darling," Elgina said. She made Brittney lift her arms and
pulled Kiri's blouse down over Brittney's head. "We must clarify
something between us. "Where we are going, there will be challenges.
For us all, I suppose," Elgina said. "You have not tasted the half of
what is available in the world, despite riding the see-saw, or the prank
Janice and I played on you and Clarissa. Or your little sight-seeing
tour of Samuel's dungeon, for that matter. Where we are going there
will be certain feelings. Some of them good, some of them bad. You
must trust me that it will all work out well for you, indeed for all of
us." She took Brittney by her arms and, stilling their motion, for the
girl still wished secretly to frig herself, asked, "Do you think you can
do that?"
"Yes," Brittney said, her fingers curling when her arms could
not move, desiring in ever greater degrees to plunge her hands into her
twat. Brittney shivered. "It's scary, though."
"Of course it's scary," Elgina said.
"Damn! I managed to get my zipper closed!" Samuel suddenly
crowed. They all looked at him. Despite an enormous bulge that
threatened to burst his pants, he had indeed managed to stuff his
erection in past his fly and pull up the tab.
"Let's go," Elgina said. "I have a feeling that pair of pants
may burst before we get there. Or what's inside might."
They drove to the estate. Kiri read a map to see that they
didn't get lost on the way. Elgina and Brittney sat squeezed between
the two lovers in the truck. Elgina made sure Brittney kept her hands
in her lap, and not under her skirt.
From a distance, overgrown weeds and wild wheat from a
neighboring farmer's field could be seen lining a high stone wall. When
they got up close alongside the wall, following a road that ran along
it, they could sense nothing of what was inside. The wall blocked
everything, and they had to follow it until they came to a gate. It was
an old rusty iron gate. It was shut and locked. Elgina took her phone
out of her purse and called Ellen.
A few minutes later a man appeared on the other side of the
gate. He walked slowly toward it, along a dirt trail, past the weeds
and wild grasses growing inside the wall. Still the view, even through
the gate, was frustrating: a line of trees in the distance blocked any
view of a house. The man unlocked the gate. He waved through Samuel's
truck. Then as soon as Samuel was inside he began closing the gate
again. Watching the man through his rear view mirror, Samuel drove up
the dirt trail toward the trees. He might have stopped his truck,
spoken to the man, but the man was a short Mexican man, with ruddy
sunblazoned brown skin, wearing old overalls and a straw hat. Samuel
doubted the man spoke English.
The trees seemed to part, as if by magic, as Samuel grew close
to them. A twist in the road showed an opening. The road proceeded
through them. A stone building could be seen in the distance. Steven
drove toward it. When he got near he saw other cars, in a dirt parking
lot. Jaguars, a Rolls Royce, a Bentley. Samuel glanced at Elgina. No
wonder they hadn't been invited before. Elgina's friends were rich; but
not this rich.
Feeling a bit intimidated in his common man's truck, however
powerfully-built it might be, Samuel parked. Kiri opened the door and
jumped down. Brittney and Elgina followed, Samuel coming around to the
other side of the truck in time to help Brittney down personally, since
the girl, despite her inner excitement, had grown sheepish.
"Pwease," Brittney said, struggling a bit as Elgina, behind the
girl, urged her down from the cab.
"Be good and obey," Elgina said. Samuel took the girl's hand.
"You are the guest of honor," Samuel said reassuringly to the
girl. At the corner of the stone building a door opened. A woman
appeared. She walked smartly toward them. Her hair was blonde. It
flowed freely in the light breeze that rustled the trees lining the dirt
parking lot. She wore a riding jacket, a short riding dress, black
boots shod her legs to the knees. Her hands were gloved; in one hand
she held a riding crop.
Elgina, sexily dressed in her business-wear, greeted the woman.
"Are you Ellen?"
"No, I'm Hanna," the blonde answered. She looked them over,
pausing to notice the bulge in Samuel's pants. "I see you have come
prepared," Hanna said. "Please, come with me. You'll find Ellen
inside."
As they approached the stone building, Samuel, who was walking
rather awkwardly owing to the stiffness in his pants, said,
"I'm sure it's a nice place but it doesn't look like much of a
house."
"Oh, it's not a house," Hanna answered. "The house is further
back. Beyond another thin row of trees. This is the school house. It
used to be prison."
"Oh," Samuel answered. He gulped. Brittney echoed the sound,
and an anxious look came over Kiri's face, as it did the faces of the
others, except for Elgina, who remained calm.
"I'm sure it is excellent for entertaining," Elgina said to
Hanna. The blonde brought them to the door at the corner of the
building.
"We do not do much entertaining here," Hanna said
matter-of-factly.
Following the blonde woman's motioning hand, they stepped
through the doorway. It was dim inside the building, much dimmer than
the bright sunlit parking lot outside. The woman made them go through
first, then followed, shutting and locking the door behind them. They
went down a hall. It was lit by a few candles, mounted on the walls.
Brittney clutched at Elgina's hand. The curly-haired blonde murmured
words of encouragement to the girl.
"Now, now, dear. It will be alright," Elgina said, and Kiri,
walking with Samuel, and reaching for his hand, hoped it would be.
They entered what looked like a parlor. A woman sat at a
table. It was a round wooden table, as if for eating, but the table was
bare, except for a piece of paper on it, and she was busily writing on
the paper as they entered. After they had stood awkwardly for a moment,
Hanna coming in behind them, they were seated. Hanna did it, offering
them chairs. The woman at the table, a beautiful redhead with long
flowing waist-length red hair, swept up in back into a small bun but
otherwise hanging free, kept on writing. Samuel noted with approval
that the woman had a substantially sized bust; it seemed to press at the
low cut front of her gown, which hugged her body tightly. Samuel saw
that the woman was in terrific shape; despite being clearly over 30 she
had a slender figure, under her well-fatted bust, and her hips showed no
more fat than a man would want to see on a well-developed womanly
figure. Her legs appeared to be long; Samuel guessed they were as trim
as her waistline and arms were.
Except for her bustline, which was most revealing, showing her
breasts almost to the tops of her nipples, the woman was completely
clothed. Her arms were clad in tight-fitting cloth, right down to the
wrists, where a white ruffled flourish showed that she wore a second
gown beneath her outer one, this one also sleeved and hugging her
tight. At her ankles the white ruffle showed again, again it was,
Samuel guessed, the modest inner gown. The bulging of her bosoms showed
that although she had skipped wearing a bra a corset must be holding her
tightly around the middle; but for show only, Samuel reasoned, his eyes
again darting to her arms. She had model-thin arms, even with the
double-sleeved gown.
The woman looked up. She regarded the foursome before her,
along with Hanna.
"Hello. I am Ellen," the red-haired woman said. "Elgina will
address me as Ellen. The rest of you must earn the privilege," Ellen
said. She glanced, seemingly for approval, at Elgina. Instinctively
she guessed the business-clad woman must be the one she had spoken to on
the phone. Mutely Elgina answered,
"Thank you."
"It is a favor, granted to a fellow mistress," Ellen said.
"You will also be permitted to remain clothed. Indeed I recommend it.
In order to maintain a certain decorum."
"If you wish," Elgina said, her voice soft and almost
whisper-like.
"As for the rest of you," Ellen said, "I will not mince words.
It is best to settle matters right up front, while things are still
undecided, as it were. This is a place of physical exertion. Much is
demanded and the rewards are substantial for those who choose to stay.
But owing to the physicality of our explorations here, clothing is quite
out of the question. A costume perhaps, now and then, might be
permitted, but such things will be designed completely for the
stimulation of those present, for their physical stimulation, I mean, so
even then one cannot expect any privacy of the body in such matters.
However the lack of clothing does not mean we will all simply be wild
and free. There will be rules, and indeed strict gradations of rank,
based on gender, age, and experience. Within our little commune orders
must be obeyed to the letter. My mother lived through the 1960's and
indeed barely survived it; drugs, free love, and indeed violence took
their toll. Here I have created a world that benefits from the ideals
of the 1960's, without the excessive permissiveness that marked that
decade. Within our world, thanks to our rules, there is greater
physical enrichment, more nourishing forms of experience, and yet a more
boundless exploration, sans drugs, using the natural substances that the
body itself produces. I am speaking, of course, not only of pleasure,
but also of pain. But not the pain of random violence, as my mother was
subjected to. No, here everything is measured and controlled. And as a
result the body can be pushed much further. Much, much further, as you
will see if you stay." She looked at the four, but especially at Samuel
and Kiri and Brittney, who now sat trembling before her, their previous
sexual excitement now all but forgotten. "Do you agree to place
yourselves in my hands for the purpose of joining our society here?"
Elgina asked.
"I-- Sure I guess so," Samuel said, for his groin, despite his
newfound fears, was still a torment to him.
"I-- Yes, if Samuel will," Kiri said. She flashed a quick
glance at her lover. There was anxiousness in her eyes.
"I do not--" Brittney said. She paused. Her fingers played
upon her thighs with the hem of her skirt.
"You do not what?" Ellen asked.
"I do not know--" Brittney said, and lifted her skirt a little,
perhaps unconsciously, for she was not only frightened now, she was also
still buzzing with woeful tanginess in her clitty.
"Is this the youngster?" Ellen asked Elgina.
"Yes. This is the girl I spoke of," Elgina said. "She's new
to such things. And only 13." Ellen waved her hand dismissively.
"I was 12 when I lost my virginity," Ellen said. She stood
up. She advanced to Brittney. And then, just as she was towering over
the girl, staring down at her, nearly frightening Brittney out of her
wits, she suddenly knelt down on the floor before her. Playfully, now
at eye level with the seated girl, she said, "All you need do dear is
say yes or no. I will handle the rest." Her voice was suddenly so
soothing, so rich with understanding, that Brittney suddenly blurted,
"Yes."
"Very good," Ellen said.
"Thank God," Samuel said. He shifted, and Kiri giggled,
knowing what he was thinking: that he would have had to drive all the
way back home with his erection if Brittney had refused.
"There is a room just down the hall where you three may
undress," Ellen said. "Hanna will accompany you. You will obey her in
all things. Elgina, dear, if you will please remain behind with me."
"Yes. Of course," Elgina said, her voice smooth and
nonchalant. Hanna rose. Gesturing with her riding crop, she led Samuel
and Kiri from the parlor. Brittney walked between them, holding hands
with each of them. Hanna closed the parlor door behind them. It was a
big thick wooden door and when it had been closed, and a key turned in
the lock, Hanna doing it, Elgina looked expectantly at Ellen.
"You will kindly come to the table and bend over it," Ellen
said. She took a cushion from the couch where Samuel and Kiri and
Brittney had been sitting, Elgina beside them, and tossed it up on the
table.
"I--" Elgina said.
"Please. Do as you are told," Ellen ordered. Her voice remain
soft and as pleasant as when she had spoken to Brittney, kneeling before
her, but she went to a cabinet in her parlor and drew forth a cane.
"I had not--" Elgina said, rising and walking with slurring
steps across the room's thick carpet to the table. It was only a few
short steps and when she reached it she put her hands down on the
pillow, keeping, however, her back straight.
"Bend over," Ellen said. She whisked the cane through the air,
as if testing it.
"I did not--"
"You will remain clothed, as I said, but your bottom must be
introduced to our manner of doing things here," Ellen said. "Really,
Elgina, I did not expect such resistance from you. Bend over and rest
your elbows on the pillow before I must speak harshly to you." Elgina
obeyed. Ellen lifted her business skirt from behind. She exposed the
woman's pantied bottom. Elgina was wearing sheer black panties and
Ellen took hair pins from her bun and pinned up the back of Elgina's
dress. "My, you have a nice ass," Ellen said. "Nice choice of panties
too." She reached between the woman's legs. She grabbed Elgina's
panties by the gusset. "Hmmm. You've wet yourself," Ellen said.
Familiarly she touched the woman's cunny through the thin black gusset.
Then she pulled Elgina's panties down to the middle of her thighs. She
stepped back, leaving Elgina to stand shiveringly with her bottom bared
over the table. "I will go for simple clear red marks this time," Ellen
said to Elgina. "No welts, no bruises. No blood or battle scars. No
double hits in the same place as Hanna likes to give. I trust you do
not need a gag for your teeth?"
"N- No," Elgina said, quivering all the way from her toes to
her bottom now, for she had not had such treatment in a long time. Her
cheeks instinctively huddled more closely. Ellen noted her bottom's
reaction.
"You may squeeze yourself as tight as you like but you must
keep your seat well-presented," Ellen told the woman. "Jut it out at
me. Receive. Accept. But not within. That will come later. This is
simply to ensure that you are not too comfortable at dinner. Certainly
not more so than your nude charges." Ellen raised the cane. Elgina
obligingly offered her bottom more fully, despite her clenching cheeks,
as if she might be fucked by the woman, rather than hit by her. A
moment later the cane came whizzing down. All illusions were shattered
as the sound of the cane striking Elgina's rump resounded through the
closed room.
"EEEE-YAAAAA!" Elgina shouted, at the sting, so unfamiliar
after years of playing mistress.
"You should control your voice better. It is not seemly,"
Ellen said, and gave her another, lower down, across the very summit of
her rearward thrusting behind.
"Mffffff!" Elgina gasped, biting her lip to silence her cry.
"Better," Ellen said, and quickly followed with a third, down
upon the fleshy underside of Elgina's bottom, where the tight cheeks
creased against her thighs.
"Ooooh!" Elgina said.
"Three more, inbetween the first three," Ellen said.
"NO!" Elgina bleated, but the strokes followed in quick
succession, and the woman was left bending over the table with her hips
grinding, her bottom burning, an awful profusion of six red lines now
marking her otherwise white flawless seat. Ellen replaced the cane in
the cabinet. She went to the parlor door and unlocked it and opened
it. She glanced back at Elgina, still poised over the table, her
panties tight around her thighs, her bottom brazen. "Pull up your
undies and unpin your dress," Ellen told her. "You look like a cheap
whore." Just then the Mexican man appeared, the one who had opened the
gate for them. He managed to peer past Ellen, into the room. He let
out a chuckle. "This is Elgina, Lucas," Ellen said. "She is a woman
from the city. She has come to stay with us. If she asks for cream for
her behind, there is some in that small deal table there. In the
drawer."
"I have cream!" Lucas said, and made an offer to unzip himself.
"Not unless she asks, Lucas. She is a cultivated lady. She
might not be open to offers from rural workhands."
"Yes, ma'am," Lucas said. He grinned at Elgina. "You meet Mr.
Cane, eh? He do good work on your ass."
Meanwhile in a bare stone room, Samuel and Kiri and Brittney
undressed for Hanna. They did it with a kind of bashful eagerness;
Samuel was desperate to release his cock, Kiri buzzed with renewed
excitement over her strange surroundings, Brittney, though the shyest of
the three, admired Hanna's riding outfit and wondered if she might have
occasion to try it on.
"Do you have horses here?" Brittney asked hopefully, gazing at
Hanna's bright-polished boots and trim jacket and skirt. The cloth of
the woman's uniform was grey. She looked as if she might be about to
join Rhett Butler for an evening on horseback.
"We could," Hanna replied. "Would you like that?"
"Oh yes very much so," Brittney said. She pulled off Kiri's
bra, freeing her breasts, watching with pride as Hanna gazed with
wonderment at how large, on her childish frame, her tits were. In a bra
and behind a blouse was one thing; in the raw, utter whiteness of
jiggling flesh, capped with pink youthful nipples, growing hard now
under her gaze, they were quite another.
"You have nice tits," Hanna said, a note of sheepishness in her
voice.
"Mine are just as big but of course I'm four years older," Kiri
said, slightly jealously. Hanna realized that despite her own proud
carriage she possessed the smallest tits of the the three women
present. A frown crossed her face and she whisked her riding crop
against her leg, bare from the knee up but booted below. There was a
sound of leather smacking leather as the crop's tip hit her boot.
"They will make fine targets," Hanna said. Brittney gulped.
She wasn't sure if the woman was kidding or not, and wondered if she
should put her, or rather Kiri's bra back on. But Kiri forced a laugh
and took her bra from the girl. She was eager to try out the objects in
the room and did not want any more misgivings from Brittney holding
things back.
For despite their own dungeon, there were some new toys here:
in this room, which was intriguingly without any comfort whatever there
was, first of all, and quite conspicuously, in one corner, a toilet. It
was a white porcelain one, the old-fashioned kind, with the tank
suspended on the wall above the toilet and a pull-chain hanging down to
flush it. But despite their initial surprise at seeing it, the toilet
was not the sign that they were lodged in a bathroom, for there were
other devices as well, all of which demanded a lack of clothing to be
explored. There was a wooden stool, but one on which a person would
have grave difficulty sitting, owing to a rude red rubber phallus
sticking up from the stool's center. Next to the stool, but not next to
the toilet, which was some distance from it, there was, lying on the
floor, on its side, a roll of toilet paper. A bottle of lubricant
standing on the floor beside the toilet paper made clear the intent of
the paper; it was for wiping after being placed on the stool, not the
toilet, for anyone sitting on the toilet would not be able to reach the
roll where it was lying. Of course, with assistance, anything was
possible, but it was curious nonetheless to find the room as it was,
with the toilet paper so close to the stool and so far from the toilet.
In addition there was no roller next to the toilet, where the paper
might have been hung. It was as if a person seated on the toilet was
intended to be left to fend for themselves, while the roll was reserved
for whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves placed on the
stool. Straps hung from the legs of the stool, useful for anchoring
recalcitrant feet. Directly above the stool hung a pair of iron wrist
cuffs, dangling down from the ceiling unlocked, with a key lying on the
floor next to the grease bottle.
A block of wood was in the center of the room. Straps hung
from it as well, hooked to the base at the block's four corners. A
leather bit lay on one side of the block. Behind it, on the other side,
standing upright on the floor was a plastic squirt tube. It was a big
tube, and it appeared to be half-filled with a white soapy fluid. Lying
carelessly on the floor next to it was a simple rod of birch, freshly
cut, newgrown little buds still peppering the rod along its entire
length. But the most intriguing thing of all, and the scariest, was
what was at the back of the room. Despite its sealed off privacy,
completely encasing the four of them in thick stone walls, there was a
camera on a tripod at the back of the room. It stood there all by
itself, plugged into a socket in the wall, a red light glowing atop it.
Were they being filmed? Samuel and Kiri and Brittney cast nervous
glances back at the camera. It was intoxicating, seeing it staring
balefully at them, the lens black and unmoving. Were they being watched
or were they free to make a movie, if they chose, of each other? And of
each other doing what? Even Samuel and Kiri, in the privacy of their
home, had not yet thought of taking a camera downstairs to their little
dungeon. Now they had one at their disposal, perhaps, if they wished.
Kiri giggled at the thought of filming little Brittney on the toilet.
They finished undressing. Hanna told them to give her their
clothes and they did, reluctantly. Then, to their surprise and also to
their relief, she left. The three of them found themselves staring at
each other in the silent room, alone again at last. Samuel checked the
door. It was locked.
"Wh- what do you want to do?" Brittney asked, sheepishly. She
covered her breasts with her hands, aware of the camera, and then
quickly unbared one breast to cover her pussy.
"Not that, I don't think," Kiri said. But she herself clapped
her hands to her bare bottom, for her back was to the camera and she
could feel its lens trained on her. Only Samuel, his penis sticking out
grandly, didn't seem to mind the device.
"I am great. Let them watch if they wish. Whoever they are,"
Samuel said.
"Shall we have sex, darling?" Kiri asked her lover. Gently she
reached for his penis. He let her take it in her small hand. He was
much too large for her grip, of course, extending out the front and back
of her small fist like a big ripe banana. Kiri knew what Samuel had
suffered to bring them here to this place and she smiled and gently
massaged his big prick. Brittney touched herself in her own slit and
gave a sigh of relief. Then, on a sudden impulse, she said,
"I want to film you guys!" She extracted her fingertips from
her pussy. She rushed to the camera. She found it working, was able to
look through it, and she playfully zoomed in on Kiri's hand, holding
Samuel's big prong. "Do it! Make him cum!" Brittney said with girlish
glee. Kiri smiled at her friend behind the camera and rubbed Samuel
more briskly with her soft hand. The man, his hardness quivering,
groaned. Kiri, who had already taken the bite out of her own desire
earlier in the day, though she still longed for additional spendings,
said,
"Let's not do what would come so easily. Let's not just have
sex or make ourselves cum. Let's torture each other-- just a little I
mean-- and film it!" To her surprise Brittney did not immediately
refuse. Instead she zoomed in on Kiri's tits and said,
"You guys go first!" Suddenly there was a sound of the door
being unlocked. A moment later it opened. Of course the three stopped
everything, Kiri letting go of Samuel's penis, Brittney, who had once
again pressed a fingertip into her pussy, extracting the digit to cover
her cunt with her hand. It was the Mexican man, the one who had opened
the gate for them. He wheeled in a television set on a cart. It was a
big set, and wordlessly he took it to the back of the room. He plugged
it into a socket in the back wall and turned it on. The camera
immediately fed a picture to the T.V. Kiri's breasts appeared, and the
girl shouted to Brittney, who still had one hand on the camera,
"Oh! Stop shooting my tits!"
"Sowwy," Brittney, shivering with interrupted lust, said. She
altered the camera's aim and Samuel's penis came onto the T.V.
The Mexican left the room. As he closed the door Kiri called
out to him, "Hey! Are we being filmed?" but he said nothing, locking
the cell door behind him.
"We're not being filmed. We're DOING the filming," Brittney
said. Again she aimed the camera and Kiri's pussy appeared on the T.V.
Bashfully the girl turned, but the change only served to put her bottom
on T.V.
"Can we turn that thing off?" Kiri asked.
"No. I like it. Get another shot of my cock," Samuel said.
Brittney obliged, adjusting the camera. She zoomed in on his pee-hole.
Cum was leaking from it. The girl, wet between her own legs, fingered
herself again.
"Oh! Oh!" Brittney gasped.
"You're getting too excited, dear. And it's your own fault,"
Kiri said to Brittney. She got up. She went to the girl. She led her
to Samuel and said, "Put her over the block. Six strokes for
masturbating!"
"NO!" Brittney cried. But she was no match for Samuel. She
wrestled her to the block and got her down over it, jamming the bit into
her mouth when he had applied the straps affixed to the block to her
limbs. The girl lay quivering over the wood, her bottom well-presented,
Samuel admiring it as he picked up the birch branch that was lying on
the floor.
"How many did you say to give her?" Samuel asked Kiri.
"Six," Kiri said. She zoomed in on the girl's quivering,
clenching behind. It was a lovely white color. Moisture from Kiri's
earlier exploration of it with her finger, at their house, gleamed in a
certain particular spot, oozing out from it, from Brittney's bottom
crack. The oil marked the place in Brittney's tight-bunched behind
where her bottom hole hid. "And then fuck her up the ass," Kiri said.
"Use your cock or if you won't fit use that plastic squirt thing. Fill
her bottom with whatever's in it-- it looks like soap."
"NOOOOK!" Brittney yelled, at the top of her lungs, but the bit
stuffed into her mouth, and tied round the back of her head, prevented
her from saying it very loudly.
Samuel drew back the switch. He swung it in, striking the
well-presented tight little spheres. Brittney howled. It was her first
blow! The pain was unbearably greater than she'd imagined, the stiff
yet flexible stick scoring her pert round bottom. The girl's cheeks
contracted, a white line appearing on her behind as the did so. It
quickly turned red as her cheeks rebounded.
"Again!" Kiri cried, getting a close-up with the camera of
Brittney's new wound. Her ass appeared on the T.V., brazenly jutting,
the red line cutting across it.
Samuel delivered another stroke. Again Brittney howled,
bucked, the gag silencing her, a second red line appearing, below the
first, on her still mostly white bottom. He gave her a third. She
strained in her straps, tears appeared in her eyes. But Kiri did not
show them. She kept the camera trained right on her little ass!
Strokes four and five were harder, making Brittney break into
sobs. And then came the sixth. Samuel couldn't help himself. He
wanted it to be a stroke Brittney would remember. To assist her in this
he swung with showmanlike vigor. The girl's eyes nearly popped from her
head as she felt the blow. It struck her right down where her cheeks
met her thighs, lifting her as it hit her, scoring the rubbery sensitive
skin, making it tighten with unbearable anguish, which increased her
agony in the places where her bottom had already been marked.
"Bravo!" Kiri cried from behind the camera. She had felt such
a wicked blow more than once from Samuel in their month together. It
always welted and took at least a half-week to subside. It was a stroke
which, if given with much greater severity, would surely draw blood.
Kiri had yet to taste such an awful event herself, but knew Samuel was
counting the days to when he might give her such a treat. It was awful,
it was wonderful, like having one's hymen torn and becoming a woman. A
bottom bleeding, just one stroke, though more could be given, and
Brittney was already well on the path to it! Kiri clapped for the
girl. Brittney was not amused; she cried openly, her breath coming in
gulping gasps over her bit, though her nostrils, her arms and legs
straining at the bonds that held her, her ass squeezing and unsqueezing
in all its naked glory.
Shortly afterward, before they had any further chance to
explore it, they were released from the cell. Ellen came for them. She
was dressed as before, in her long gown that covered her from her neck
to her wrists to her ankles. Samuel was still hard, he had had only
time to release Brittney from the block, which Kiri had been busy
filming.
"We will meet the other guests now," Ellen said. They were
taken from the cell and down a hall. Brittney sobbed, walking in
confusion between Samuel and Kiri, rubbing her tender behind (quite
lightly) as she went, her naked boobs bobbing in front of her, Kiri's
own tits wobbling excitedly, Samuel feeling the length of his cock
quiver erectly up and down in time with his stride. They went into a
room where there were men, six of them, dressed in suits. There were
six women also, well-clothed in designer outfits. Samuel and Kiri and
Brittney blushed. But Samuel was too hard, and Kiri too excited and
passionate from filming Brittney and her lover, for either of them to
turn from the twelve pairs of eyes that now gazed at them. It was a
well-appointed room, furnished, with tapestries covering the stone
walls, a wet bar standing along a side wall. Brittney might have fled
but she was still too busy sobbing from her humiliating experience over
the block. She did not try to cover herself now, her hands still in
back of her, assuaging her ass.
"That hurt!" Brittney finally managed to say, over her sobs, to
Samuel.
"It was your first lesson," Samuel replied calmly. Ellen
looked at the two girls. She ignored Brittney's tears, and said,
"For the next three days you girls will remain entirely naked.
You will not walk. Never. Instead, here in this room, and in any other
rooms you are led into, you will crawl. You are fortunate that there is
a carpet on the floor here. Pray your masters are kind and always keep
you in carpeted rooms. If you are good I'm sure they will. Now down on
your knees, both of you!" Ellen clapped her hands. Kiri obeyed at
once, but Brittney, still clutching her bottom, had to be persuaded.
"You will be returned to the block for six more, young lady, if you
don't obey me at once," Ellen said to the girl. This was enough for
Brittney. Still crying, she dropped to her knees. The carpet, so soft
underfoot, felt even softer now as she let her knees sink into it. But
she remained upright, despite being on her knees, her hands clapped to
her ass. "Unhand your bottom, you lewd little whore!" a woman snapped
at Brittney. The young brunette looked startled. At once she obeyed
this stranger, so awful was it to be commanded in this way. She plopped
her hands down onto the carpet. Then she gave her bottom a shake. It
still hurt. She squeezed her brazen naked cheeks and gave a small,
"Oooh!" But her crying had stopped, from the moment the
strange woman snapped at her. Then Ellen announced that the girls were
to be, as she put it,
"Of service."
A tray was strapped to the back of each girl, across the small
of her back. Drinks were balanced on each girl's tray and they were
made to go around the room serving them. A spilled drink earned a swat
from a strap. Brittney quickly earned two and Kiri one, the straps
leaving broad swathing red marks on their bottoms. The glasses were
broad and stolid and the trays small, but the girls were nervous and
inexperienced. Samuel laughed as he watched the two girls forced to
perform. Brittney wailed anew under her strokes; the straps were too
wide not to hit some of the lines left by Samuel's birch rod; the double
effect of the new blows on the old was especially painful.
"They are a delightful pair of bottoms, are they not?" a woman
asked, watching the girl's quivering pairs of cheeks as they strove to
obey, Brittney still gasping and sobbing from her latest mistake.
"Yes but I should like to see them fucked. Look. The youngest
has had something squirted up her ass. A bit of it is oozing out."
"That- that was my finger. Earlier today," Kiri, on her hands
and knees, explained. She was rather enjoying the attention, the eyes
gazing at her, watching avidly as her naked breasts swung under her,
studying attentively every twitch of her behind.
"Let us have them both fucked," the woman said. "Their lover
is up to it. Sir, would you oblige? Or do you prefer to save yourself
for us and let one of our husbands do it?"
Samuel considered a moment. By now he was seated in all his
nudity next to one of the fashionably clothed women, who knew just how
to stroke him without making him spill. He liked his erection, he
especially liked how attractive the six women were and how they all were
looking at him with such affection in their eyes.
"I'll bet I could service all six of you," Samuel boasted.
"Then you'd better let our husband have your two," the woman
stroking his cock said.
"Yes! The men to the girls, and Samuel to the wives!" Ellen
said. Kiri, who had not expected this, gasped, "Samuel!" Brittney let
out a new howl of despair.
But there was no escaping it now, once Ellen had decreed it.
The men and women quickly undressed. Samuel set to work on the first of
the wives. A man got down in front of Kiri and offered his cock to her
mouth. She took it, lewdly, ignoring the fact that a man was just then
kneeling down behind her as well. He pulled the tray off her back,
spilling the drinks on the tray as he did so.
"I will swat your behind for that loss of liquor afterward,"
the man breathed to Kiri. Then he grasped her hips. Kiri heard him and
felt him but kept sucking on the penis in her mouth. Then, suddenly, a
cry escaped her well-stuffed lips as the man behind her entered her. He
was too eager to try her tight young bottom. He took her in her cunt.
Meanwhile two more men got down with Brittney. As the man
behind Brittney unfastened her tray, the man in front forced open
Brittney's mouth. It was like being given a bit, Brittney thought
afterwards, like being a horse, her jaws prised apart, despite her
anguished attempts to protest, her opening mouth, trying to speak, only
making it easier for her assailant. He was kneeling upright in front of
her. She was on all fours. As soon as he'd got her mouth open he
shoved in his prick. It was a big one; Ellen favored not only rich men
but ones that were well-endowed. Brittney gagged as the man's penis
thrust in one stroke all the way to the back of her throat. If he saw
how young she was he was giving it no consideration; with eagerness he
tried to force himself even deeper as Brittney began to retch.
The man behind was no disciple of etiquette either. As
Brittney choked on the cock being forced into her mouth, he mounted her
from behind. Again the entry was swift, so hard and desperate that
Brittney's mouth opened wider, in a frantic yell, as the man in back of
her shoved himself into her little twat. She was sore afterwards; and
all the next day, her lips feeling used and distended, her cunt frankly
stretched to its limit, and a little beyond.
"Ah, so young and healthy and fit for the battle," Ellen
enthused, watching over the little brunette. Despite her cries of pain
and discomfort, despite her repeated attempts to retch, there was a
certain lithe liquid quality in her figure as the men fucked it; she was
built to receive, simply untried, untested, needing what was now being
given to her. Ellen did not let the men use her bottom, despite the
gleaming invitation pressed between her cheeks, the inviting oil easing
her passage. Only the first two men were given a crack at Brittney;
more would have been too much, on this first day. They were only
allowed to rod her mouth and cunt, and then only until their first
spending, both men quickly and frantically reaching their climax. When
they withdrew Brittney, still on all fours, threw up on the plush
carpet. Then she collapsed on it, sobbing, clutching her wounded ass
and feeling the still-lingering sensations of the men's cocks, her pussy
stretched and filled, her mouth wet not only with sperm but with the
taste of her own guts. "I am pleased," Ellen said to the small girl
curled up her floor. "You have done well." She let her lie there
awhile, Brittney crying softly as she listened to the raw animal sounds
of sex going on around her. Kiri's two lovers were replaced by two
more. They were hard on her as they had been hard on Brittney but she
took them with stalwart grace; cowlike she received their pricks in her
mouth, milking them in turn as her full breasts hung alluringly beneath
her, a grab-place for the male hands that attacked and held her. Her
cunt sucked on that which was thrust into it; thankfully, given the
men's enthusiasm, they did not go for her bottom, satisfying themselves
in her increasingly well-watered snatch. By the time they were finished
Kiri was full to bursting with sperm.
Samuel, meanwhile, exerted himself on the men's wives. He was
rampant and his first spending did not alleviate his hardness. He went
at the wives with enduring lust. Not until he had satisfied the third
did he flag. Then, with everyone willing to take a break to let their
spirits recover, drinks were served. When the men revived they went at
Kiri again, while the young female's lover resumed with the wives. By
the time it all was finished there was complete exhaustion in the room.
"I must still swat your bottom for spilling the liquor," a man
breathed to Kiri.
"Wha-?" Kiri asked. She was lying on the floor, her body
heated, her mouth and cunt oozing sperm
"For wiggling your hips when I was unbuckling the tray from
you. It caused valuable liquor to spill."
"It- it wasn't my fault. You did it!" Kiri said.
"Up over my knee," the man said. Despite his weariness and the
complete depletion of his cock, which hung limp and small now between
his legs, he pulled Kiri up onto his lap. He was sitting in a big
overstuffed chair and she now found herself face down over his thighs,
her bottom an easy target. As she squirmed, trying to get off him, her
bare ass tensing, he raised his hand.
"For resisting, I will give you extra," the man said. Then he
walloped her, and she took each blow with hip grinding cries of pain.
But she was too weak to get off him. He could just manage to raise and
bring down his hand; admittedly, with considerable force. Brittney lay
on the carpet listening, her eyes squeezed tight. Little sniffles
escaped her. But Samuel, sitting between two wives, managed a tired
smile.
"It is good," Samuel said. "Spank her hard because that's what
I'm going to do later tonight to your wife; to all your wives, give them
good sound spankings to assist them in being obedient spouses."
"If you insist," the man swatting Kiri said. "A well-spanked
wife is a wife worth having."
30
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
little girl liberation!
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
TORRID TWEENS
Chapter Eight
Brittney was given her own private bedroom in Ellen's stone
schoolhouse. It was a spartan affair, a simple cot in a stone room,
with a chamber pot for a toilet and a pitcher of water on the floor, but
Brittney was too tired and sore to ask for anything better. The next
morning Ellen came to see her. She brought a hair brush. It was made
of ivory. She woke Brittney and sat her up and placed herself next to
her on the cot. In her long-sleeved skirt she was quite a contrast to
the naked little Brittney. She stroked her hair gently with the brush,
untangling it. The girl had been bathed the night before, by Elgina, in
a big claw-footed tub at the back of the compound. She seemed fresh as
a daisy this morning, with her lovely white breasts and her small furred
pubis; the only mark on her was the welt Samuel had given her across the
cheeks of her ass, a welt that made Brittney wince when Ellen sat her
up. The other marks, which the woman searched for before making
Brittney sit up, had faded away.
"You're coming along quite nicely," Ellen told the girl.
Brittney looked at her. Her big liquid eyes gazed unknowingly, blinking
now and then, her lips speechless. She was still in shock from what had
happened to her yesterday. Yet despite the aching stretchy feeling in
her lips and cunt she secretly admired the unknown men who had taken
her; there was a certain wonderful frankness to it; breaking through all
her objections, leaving her guiltless as they gave her what was required
to make her into a woman. It had been her second fucking; not as public
as her awful first fucking at Janice's, tied to the post, yet still as
urgent, as woefully direct, smashing her virginity to pieces so that she
would no longer be mired in childish reservations. As Ellen ran the
brush through Brittney's hair she said to her, "Today you're going to
play doctor."
"What? But nothing's wrong with me," Brittney managed to say.
Her first words of the morning.
"That's why I said `play'," Ellen said. "You are perfect
except for your welt. As is expected in such circumstances. Otherwise
you would not have been invited, and I would not have supplied you."
"Supplied?" Brittney asked.
"Yes. There is a man in the town who has called. He called me
this morning. Woke me up, in fact. He wishes to play doctor. He and
his wife. You will be the patient, of course. Only a fine young filly
is acceptable. I know his needs. I've loaned him girls before. It
will enhance your training, your knowledge of the arts of love."
"I don't want to play doctor," Brittney said.
"You may not refuse," Ellen said. She put down the brush. She
patted Brittney's belly, below her ribs, feeling smooth, flat satiny
skin, which sucked inward a little as she touched it. "Of course,
plenty will be wrong with you when you're finished."
"What?" Brittney blinked.
"I said plenty will be wrong with you when he's finished with
you," Ellen said. She pinched Brittney's hip. The girl gave a pained
sigh. Ellen marveled at how there was not an ounce of extra fat on the
young female, every curve seemingly perfect, her white lightly tanned
skin immaculate, her bosoms perfect pale white, milk white, where her
bikini top usually protected her, the milk white pattern repeated across
her hips where a bikini bottom would have hidden her pubis. The white
stretched around to her ass, the moon white, untouched by the sun, with
only the single welt, down where her thighs met her ass, marring her
perfect beauty. "Yes, it is the nature of the game," Ellen told
Brittney. "The girl arrives charmingly dressed, her clothes neat and
perfect. I have selected a school girl outfit for you; a pleated skirt
and blouse. I keep such things for occasions such as this, for my
guests, when I am called upon to supply them. You will be on your best
behavior, perfectly mannered, obedient. You will report to the doctor
and tell him your mother has sent you. He is of course completely
unlicensed, it is just a game, but you will behave with complete
deference toward him. He will be polite at first; no doubt his young
wife will bring you in. You will find them both excellent in their
manners, at first. The privacy of a screen will be offered to you to
undress behind. Use it; keep up the decorum. You will even be given an
examining sheet to put on. Tie it neatly, as you would for a real
doctor and his assistant. Then when you are ready the nurse will bring
you in your paper sheet out from behind the screen, escorting you. You
will see a gynecological table set up. It will have been prepared, the
legs extended and readied, by the man for you while you were getting out
of your clothes. Still they will be polite. You must not be wilful,"
Ellen said to the girl. "Obey. Do not throw a tantrum. Keep up your
end of the bargain as a good little patient. You have come to them,
they have not come for you. Perhaps it is true you came on your
mother's orders, but you are seeking their professional help; you must
not be a brat. Not at this early stage. Even a little girl is
disciplined and obedient enough to get out of her clothes and into a
gown and onto the doctor's table. They will tie you down. It is
necessary, considering what they are planning to do to you." Brittney
held her breath. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; Ellen's
words coming soft and nonchalant,as if she might be telling the girl
about what to expect in her first day at kindergarten, or high school
for that matter, which Brittney had yet to enroll in.
"Yes, keep up your manners and the decorum," Ellen said to the
girl. "Do not protest when they use straps or rubber tubing to tie you
down. Then when you are tied they will bring out the surgical tray.
You are free to be frightened then; who would not be, seeing the
dispassionate metal of that thing, and what it contains, the saws, the
cutting knives, the probes, the speculum and the way the silver bowl
that is always there, next to the tray of instruments, waits in silence
to receive your guts.
"Oh God!" Brittney cried. Ellen laughed. Despite the fear in
the girl's eyes she suddenly and abruptly thrust her hand down to her
cunt.
"Yes, it is exciting, isn't it?" Ellen said. "They will be
clothed in their professional attire. You will be completely naked and
helpless, your gown having been removed by now." She touched the girl's
long flowing brown hair, where it tumbled down over her bare right
shoulder. "Have you ever been on an operating table?" Ellen asked
Brittney.
"No," Brittney said, her eyes large now, staring, unblinking.
She was looking at Ellen and yet at the same time beyond her, picturing
in her mind herself on the cold white table.
"In a real operation they might of course be concerned with
your arms or legs, or perhaps your foot," Ellen said. She watched as
the young girl's fingers fought to restrain themselves from stroking her
cunt, yet wiggled with lust at the same time, in her pubic hair, just
above her small lustful lips. The youngster was torn as she listened,
wanting to play with her clit as she heard the awful tale. "But here on
this table, the doctors will be strictly interested in one thing: your
sexuality and your sexual parts. Your clit, your lovelips, your sweet
furred mound, your flat little belly and your big juicy tits. Your
mouth too, for did you not receive with it yesterday?"
"Y- Yes," Brittney said.
"And your palms, for they may bring a man pleasure too," Elgina
said. She put her pointing finger, on her right hand, in Brittney's
navel.
"Oook!" Brittney said, softly giggling. The girl's belly drew
in further. Her breasts shook.
"Come, we must have you take another bath, so you will be
utterly perfect for them," Ellen said to Brittney.
"Oh I don't want to go!" Brittney said, but her fingers had
given in to her cunt's desire and were now busily moistening her there.
"No choice, remember," Ellen said. She kissed the girl.
Brittney shivered. "Oh my poor darling! They will do awful things to
you, but you will not be truly harmed, you must remember that," Ellen
said. She took Brittney's hand. She led the girl out of the bedroom.
With her other hand Brittney used her fingers on her cunt with yet
greater relish, mercilessly, paying no heed to the spectacle she would
make of herself as Ellen led her down the hall. They passed the other
bedrooms, where the guests were waking up, Brittney sighing in frantic
explosive cries,
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" She made herself cum as she walked, so
great was her excitement at being taken to the doctor. And yet she
feared it too, and left Ellen's compound perplexed, not knowing why she
was doing what she was doing.
Samuel himself dropped her off. He gave her a kiss before
sending her into the house where the couple lived.
"Be good," Samuel said.
"Apparently I have no choice," Brittney said.
"Yes. Just as it should be," Samuel said.
Brittney was greeted at the door of the modest residence by a
buxom young woman in a nurse's uniform. She had long blonde hair but it
had been pinned up neatly under her nurses's cap. Brittney stared at
the small red cross on the white cap as the woman said "Hello" to her.
It seemed somehow perverse that such a chaste virtuous symbol should be
worn by a woman contemplating such awful, unnecessary deeds. But the
woman's manner conformed to that of a nurse; she was prim, efficient,
leading Brittney straightaway into the doctor's `office', which was in
reality a spare guest room at the back of their home. It connected
through a door to another room: Brittney could guess what waited for
her in there, and tried not to think of it.
The nurse made her sit down. The spare guest room was
outfitted like a traditional doctor's reception area, right down to the
magazines. The nurse put herself behind a small desk. She turned on a
desk lamp and pulled out a pad and pen from the desk's top drawer.
Brittney looked down at the magazines, which were spread out next to a
flower vase with fresh cut roses in it on a low wooden table. To her
astonishment, a gasp escaping from her throat, Brittney saw that these
were no ordinary magazines: Hustler, Barely Legal, and Taboo waited for
her reading pleasure. Brittney looked up at the nurse.
"It will be only a few minutes," the nurse said.
"I- I think I may have come to the wrong office," Brittney
stammered. The nurse looked at her.
"Oh! The magazines," the nurse said. She got up from behind
the her desk. Quickly she scooped up the magazines. She put them away
in her desk drawer and got out others: Playtime, Kid's Life and Girl's
World. Brittney gazed at these new offerings. The first was for
preschoolers. The second clearly was meant for elementary school
children, for it featured an article on characters in a book Brittney
had learned to read from in the first grade: "Multicultural Jane and
Dick." The third, Girl's World, was hardly better. It promoted an
article on it's cover titled, "What to expect in junior high."
"I'm already in junior high," Brittney said, looking up from
the magazine. "I'm in eighth."
"It's the best I can do," the nurse said. She frowned
slightly. Brittney, feeling a little less frightened, picked up
Playtime. She opened it. In a voice faintly layered with derision she
said, "Teaching your child the A B C's."
Suddenly the door to the room beyond opened. A mature older
man put his head out. He was wearing a white gown, a white mask
dangling around his neck.
"Miss Jones? I'm ready to see the next patient," the man
said. He did not look at Brittney. He retreated back into the other
room and closed the door behind him. The nurse got up from behind her
desk. She went to where Brittney was sitting and took the magazine out
of her hands.
"The doctor will see you now," the nurse said to Brittney. The
girl gaped at her. But at the same time she felt a buzzing in her
clitty. She had never expected to have an erotic visit to a doctor's
office! What would it be like? Would they really be as awful to her as
Ellen had said they'd be? Brittney gasped as she was pulled upright
from the chair she was sitting in. She felt completely powerless now as
the nurse led her through the door into the other room. What she saw
beyond was unremarkable: bottles of cotton swabs, a box of Band-Aids, a
clean white table covered with a sheet, a sturdy row of shelves and
cabinets. The table had GYN stirrups but they were retracted. Then she
saw the leather straps hanging down from the table, which a real GYN
table would not have had. Brittney gave a yelp. Worry shone in her
eyes.
The nurse and doctor ignored Brittney's apprehension. Was it
not common for a young girl to be a little afraid, coming into a
doctor's office? The nurse pointed to a folding upright screen standing
in the far corner of the doctor's office.
"You may undress behind that," the nurse told Brittney.
"But I--!" Brittney said. The doctor was pulling on white
latex gloves.
"It won't hurt a bit," he said gently to Brittney.
"Oh but I'm FINE!" Brittney said.
"Your mother wouldn't have sent you here if you were fine," the
nurse said to Brittney.
"I will see what the trouble is," the doctor said to Brittney.
His voice was reassuring, his eyes gentle. Brittney found her eyes
glancing over him. He was well-built, but she could see what the
trouble was: in his crotch his dick, despite his age, was making a
significant bulge.
"Behind the screen, please," the nurse said, giving Brittney a
small push in the small of her back. "Take everything off. There's a
gown for you there if you wish to use it. Of course it will be opened
the moment you're up on the table."
"Ellen-- Ellen said you're going to hurt me!" Brittney said.
The doctor tutted, the nurse still gently pushing her forward toward the
screen.
"There can be complications sometimes," the doctor said. "A
girl who thinks she's fine might be found to have a blockage between her
legs. Or her bottom may require special care and treatment." His eyes
danced. He was clearly enjoying Brittney's fear, the nurse impelling
her now to the very edge of the screen where she was expected to
undress. Brittney reached up and touched the screen. "Last week I had
a patient who seemed perfectly well, but her throat was dry," the doctor
told Brittney.
"Oh! You're awful!" Brittney cried. She blushed fiercely.
But she let the nurse usher her behind the screen. Then the nurse
stepped back out from behind it, leaving her there.
With trembling hands, not knowing why she didn't just try to
run from the place, Brittney got out of her clothes. However when she
had taken off her bra, and only her panties were left, she announced,
"I don't have to take off my undies, do I?"
"Hmmm? Your panties?" the nurse asked, looking up from a pad
she'd begun to write on, that was lying by the cotton swabs.
"Come here," the doctor called. Brittney stepped out from
behind the screen, forgetting, in her nervousness, the availability of
the small paper gown folded neatly on a chair behind the privacy
screen. She faced the doctor and nurse in a pair of white schoolgirl
panties, her hands covering her breasts. She was aware of an
embarrassing moistness between her legs. She wondered if her wetness
was driving her to obey them, despite her misgivings.
"Yes. You certainly do look perfect," the doctor said to
Brittney. "But looks can be deceiving. Off with those panties and up
on the table with you. We will have to do an examination to discover
what the trouble is."
"Ohhhh, nothing's wrong!" Brittney sighed, trembling with
excitement, her nipples hard under her palms, as she said it.
"We'll fix that," the nurse said.
Hurriedly, not wanting to but now too anxious and curious and
wet not to, Brittney pulled down her underpants. She turned her back to
them, her white bottom bulging out at them, trembling and clenching, as
she yanked down her panties. The doctor and nurse both noticed her
welt, running along the base of her ass. The doctor tutted and said,
"I can see what one of her problems is already. Misbehavior."
"Oh it wasn't me being bad!" Brittney protested, and clapped
her hands to her bare ass, her panties pulled down to her knees. She
gaped over her shoulder at them.
"Good girls don't receive welts on their bottom," the nurse
said.
"Up on the table. Lie on your back," the doctor ordered. "Are
you pregnant?"
"No! Of course not," Brittney said, for Ellen had made sure
she took a morning-after pill before sending her over.
"Have you ever been pregnant?" the nurse asked.
"No, unless something made me yesterday," Brittney said. "I
took a pill this morning. And at Elgina's too."
"Elgina's?" the nurse asked.
"Well we are going to see about that belly of yours," the
doctor said. He gazed at the girl as she sat on the table now,
instinctively looking down at herself as he spoke of her stomach. It
was indrawn, a little sweet flat space under her ribs, her big breasts
hovering above both her belly and her ribs, her nipples stiff.
Brittney's hands clasped the edge of the white-sheeted table.
"What about my belly?" Brittney asked, looking down past her
tits at the hollow space where her navel twinkled.
"Last week I had to do a cesarian," the doctor said. He came
over to Brittney. He put a hand to her shoulder, brushing her long
tumbling hair back. Then he pressed her rearward onto the table, so
that she was lying on her back, still gazing past her tits at her tummy.
"A cesarian?" Brittney asked.
"Yes. A good fucking to make you pregnant, and then a slice
across your belly when it's time to deliver the baby," the doctor
chuckled. He patted her stomach. "How I would love to do that," he
sighed. The nurse opened a cabinet. Brittney stared and shrieked as
she saw her bring forth a metal surgical tray. It was as awful as Ellen
had described it, right down to the silver bowl, clean as a whistle,
meant to be filled with the odds and ends of any procedures that were
performed on her. A tit, a piece of gut, perhaps her small buzzing
sweet spot between her legs, her little nubbin cut off to make her
utterly chaste.
"I would enjoy giving her a Cesarian, doctor," the nurse said,
laying the polished tools and the bowl on a small portable table.
The doctor stroked Brittney's right breast. She shivered. She
was not tied, but her spine felt like jelly, making her tits wobble on
her chest.
"We'll begin with the simple things," the doctor told
Brittney. "Blood pressure, temperature, an examination of your throat.
A mammary exam, a quick swab of your cunt. Nothing too invasive. Then
we'll see what the results show. In most cases an operation is
required, I'm afraid. Do you agree to receive whatever treatment is
necessary?"
"Of course she agrees," the nurse said.
"I want to hear her say it," the doctor said. Brittney looked
frantically from one person to the other. She might still escape: he
was well-built but she was young and fast. The nurse might prove the
biggest obstacle. She was young like Brittney, though older than 13.
She could catch Brittney by her hair and make her return to the table,
Brittney feared. But the biggest obstacle to Brittney doing what she
knew she ought, getting out of that place, was the unbearable excitement
between her legs, and in her belly too, and bursting up through her tits
to her nipples. She was wet between her legs now, visibly wet, her
tight little snatch secretly longing to be pounded again, to be pounded
and stretched as it was yesterday, as it was at Ellen's, her breasts
wishing to be grabbed, her belly wanting to be filled with the seed
which could, if she was not careful, make her pregnant.
"I'm-- I'm not feeling bad," Brittney said. But she did
nothing to get up, and so the doctor, smiling, began tying the straps to
her wrists. She heard the GYN table legs being extended by the nurse.
A moment later her feet were lifted and placed in the stirrups. She
felt open, her thighs open and her cunt showing. She sighed. Her
stiff-nippled tits quivered with jelly-like abandon. When Brittney's
feet had been buckled into the stirrups the nurse came to the head of
the table. She fitted a gag gently into Brittney's mouth, pushing a
strand of her long brown lovely hair out of the way so that it wouldn't
become trapped between her lips. The nurse lifted Brittney's head
slightly and tied the gag behind her head. Then she got a pillow from a
cabinet and put it under Brittney's head.
"Are you comfy?" the nurse asked Brittney. Brittney shook her
head no. For the doctor, at the same time, was wedging a pillow under
her bottom. It lifted her hips and raised her lower back in an awkward
way. It made her cunt show more completely. But it was not truly
uncomfortable and so Brittney did not cry out as it was done to her.
The nurse smiled and patted Brittney's forehead. "You must expect a
little discomfort when you visit the doctor's," she told the girl.
The nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Brittney's left
arm. As the girl felt it inflated the doctor stepped to the base of the
table. He got between Brittney's spread legs. Brittney wondered at the
gag: wasn't her throat supposed to be checked? Her temperature taken?
The nurse read her thoughts.
"We take temp from the bottom, from your ass," the nurse said.
Brittney felt a sudden wet poke in her raised behind, the base of which
protruded off the end of the table. Something was sticking itself into
her ass! Brittney gave a shout from behind her gag. The nurse
laughed. Then Brittney realized it was her temperature being taken, in
her bottom! The doctor left the cold oily glass thermometer up Brittney
for three full minutes, the girl's hapless cheeks contracting helplessly
around the thing as it registered her bottomhole's heat. When the
doctor drew out the thermometer, and wiped it with a tissue, he held it
up to the light. The nurse came to look at it.
"98 degrees," the nurse said, the doctor nodding in agreement.
"I'll save her mouth until afterwards, since you've already put
on the gag," the doctor told his nurse.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be hasty about it," the nurse
replied.
"It's alright. With a young child like this it is best to
proceed directly to the cunt," the doctor said. Brittney shrieked as
she felt a gloved finger stroke her cunt. "See how wet she is already?
It is a child's wetness, excited and afraid. We will have to put her on
the hot seat to treat it."
To Brittney's utter amazement, the doctor did not take her
then, despite her availability, and his obvious trouser bulge. She was
freed from the table. She was taken, bottom-wiggling and apprehensive
as ever, to a room deeper within the house. It was chilly. She heard
an air conditioner. She wrapped her arms around her naked body and
looked anxiously at her hosts.
In that cold room, before her astonished gaze, Brittney saw a
metal chair. Above it hung leather straps. Below it was a small bowl
of coals. The nurse picked up a can of lighter fluid sitting next to
the coals and squirted them, as the doctor made Brittney seat herself in
the chair. Brittney let out a gasp. The seat was cold!
The chair had no armrests, just a straight uncompromising back,
plus the part Brittney was sitting on. Angled above the chair, toward
the front of it, was a stout metal post. The straps hung from it.
There were several rings along the underside of the post, trailing back
along its length. Looking up at the cuffs, Brittney realized that they
might be hung not directly over her head, as they were now, but farther
back, which would necessitate stretching her arms backward in a most
painful way. The effect would be to offer to tits more completely to
the depredations of the doctor and nurse, her tits sticking out at them
lewdly, her legs perhaps spread and bound to the chair legs so that her
cunt was completely on view. The gag was still in Brittney's mouth.
She reached up and to the back of her head now, sitting with difficultly
on the cold seat of the chair. Without permission she untied the gag.
She pulled it free from her mouth. The part that had been in her mouth
was wet with her saliva. Brittney stood up. The doctor caught her
shoulder. As Brittney was forced to sit down she let out a little cry,
the cold seat again coming into contact with her warm bottom. The nurse
took the gag from her and again put it into her mouth. Brittney shook
her head no but she did not fight them, did not lift her hands from
where they tightly gripped the cold seat now, her fingers white, despite
the cold of the seat. When the gag was again in her mouth, she looking
unspeakingly at her hosts, the nurse lifted her arms. She buckled
Brittney's wrists into the overhanging leather cuffs. Then she cruelly
unhooked the cuffs from the nearest ring and pulled Brittney's arms
roughly back, hooking the cuff in the farthest ring to the rear.
Brittney felt tears wetten her eyes as she felt the effect not only on
her shoulders and arms, which was painful, but on her breasts. With her
arms thrown back, her breasts were brazenly lifted up and out to the
point of obscenity. They jiggled with ripe abandon, full and perfect,
the little nipple at the end of each tit desperately hard against the
full softness of each of her mounds
"The nurse is going to light the coals," the doctor said to
Brittney. The girl looked with frightened eyes at him, then at the
nurse who got a box of matches out of a cabinet. She lit the match. It
glowed before Brittney's eyes. The nurse held it close to her tit, her
right one, teasing the extended, excited nipple with the flame.
"Don't burn me!" Brittney wanted to scream, but the gag filled
her mouth.
"My, your skin's grown all prickly," the nurse commented, for
Brittney now had goose bumps from the cold. "I wonder if your bottom's
cold too?" the nurse asked Brittney.
"Obviously it must be," the doctor said. He watched as the
nurse threatened Brittney's other nipple with the match. Then she was
down on her knees, and a moment later a burst of flame could be heard as
the coals in the little bowl ignited.
"Would you like roast bottom for dinner?" the nurse asked the
doctor.
"It sounds delicious," the doctor said. "But I want to be the
one to slice our meal tonight. You got to do it last time."
Brittney would have got up and run hearing that, but it was
quite impossible. As the nurse had been buckling her wrists, the doctor
had smoothly parted her legs and bound her ankles by straps to the legs
of the chair. Brittney was open, her cunt displayed in its oyster
perfection like some object d'art, the bottom lips of it touching the
cold seat where her bottom chilled. But as Brittney sought with her
eyes to somehow plead with her hosts to release her, despite the awful
and appealing straight-backed, breast-thrusting posture they'd put her
in, she became aware of a new sensation: her skin still bristled with
goose bumps, but her bottom was no longer cold. In fact it was
distinctly hot, and growing hotter by the second. In fact, it was
growing so hot that Brittney let out a sudden,
"YEEEOUUUUCH!" The gag, of course, stifled all but a screamy
gag deep in her throat. Her breasts bounced readily and freely,
wantonly showing off their fullness as Brittney began frantically
squirming on the seat. The hard uncompromising metal was now growing
uncompromisingly hot, threatening to scald her. The line of her welt
became a line of seething flame, the extra-sensitive skin feeling the
too-hot seat most distinctly. But the rest of her ass was hardly better
off: she realized she was feeling her ass being cooked!
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Brittney struggled to raise herself up off the seat. The cuffs
could have helped, if they'd been directly over her she might have
pulled herself free of the metal. She realized that her feet were not
bound to the legs of the chair itself, but to metal chains hanging
tautly from a point at the back of the post. When she wriggled her legs
she could not free them but they could be pulled upward, along with her
bottom, if only she could hoist herself by the cuff!
But Brittney's lean arms could not manage the job. Especially
with them being drawn back so far. She yanked herself up an inch or so,
nearly wrenching her arms out of their sockets in the process. Her tits
waggled lewdly. Her cunt, already well displayed, widened a little more
as she tried to lift herself up. Her feet kicked outward, a quarter
inch or so, testing the chains. With eye-popping grief Brittney looked
at her hosts. Tears appeared in her eyes and ran uselessly down her
cheeks, staining her face but nowhere near her ass, which now baked on
the point of being hopelessly burnt.
"Cannot you see the way out?" the nurse laughed at Brittney.
"Your bottom will be our dinner if you don't think of it soon."
"I may as well tell her," the doctor said. He looked down at
Brittney's rapidly cooking cunt and said, "It requires the use of your
pee hole. You may not have seen it but the metal seat you're finding so
uncomfortable has a small hole drilled in its center. If you put
yourself right over it, your cunt I mean, and let go of your bladder,
your pee will fall through the seat and extinguish the flame. You need
only make the effort. I will aid you with whatever flames remain when
you're finished."
"You should have made her pass the examination alone, doctor,"
the nurse said, but the doctor only smiled and unzipped his fly and
pulled out his dick. It was a big one, and the doctor gently assured
the frantic Brittney that he was well-armed with pee to save her bottom.
"Now if only she drank plenty of orange juice for breakfast,"
the nurse said.
"Yes, it is as I remarked about her tummy," the doctor said.
"It is obviously capable of holding in her pee, or she would have wet
herself already. Now we will see if it can bear to release her urine in
front of total strangers."
Brittney gaped at her hosts. She was unfortunately not new to
this game, now that she knew what the rules were. With an effort,
biting down on her gag, she willed herself to pee. At first nothing
came and then, suddenly, like a welcome summer shower in a time of
drought, her bladder released itself. She heard her pee trickling and
spurting down through the hole in the chair. She looked down at
herself, wiggling frantically on the chair, and made sure her cunt was
over the hole that, indeed, if one looked closely, was there. To her
great relief the doctor began urinating also. At first his aim was too
high: he splattered himself on her belly. His pee ran down into her
cunt and some if it trickled through the hole. The doctor laughed and
realized he might keep his aim high and still put out the fire. So he
shot all his pee onto Brittney's wriggling frame, onto her small flat
belly, aiming for her navel. When he was finished the fire under her
was indeed out. The nurse smiled and released Brittney's arms from the
cuffs. The doctor, his stiff penis still hanging out, bent down and
undid her ankles. A moment later Brittney leapt up. She stood rubbing
her bottom for a full minute while the couple admired her. She was
burnt a little but no more than a sunburn might give, the nurse reported
to her, pushing her palms aside to examine her cheeks.
"And now we must have our next test for you," the nurse told
Brittney. "You will serve us at mealtime. But not as you might think,
as a waitress. You will be the platter. Yes, the mere platter. And we
will eat our food off your body. But here's the real treat: my husband
does not care to make a platter of your belly. He wants to make your
bottom the plate, and your bunghole the center of his culinary
activity."
After being wiped with a cloth, to get the pee off her,
Brittney was led, still gagged, to a polished wooden table in the
couple's dining room. She was made to lie face down on the table.
Straps were applied to her arms and legs. A pillow was put under her
chin, another raised her hips. Then a well-greased carrot was
introduced into her rectum. From behind her gag Brittney mewed: the
thing split her like a penis might, but it was not a penis, though the
doctor pushed it into her with a most uncomfortable observation.
"Damn, it's hard to get it in!" the doctor said, as Brittney's
ass huddled helplessly around the thing.
"She is too tight," the nurse said.
Candles glowed; the impromptu meal proceeded with the doctor
licking sugar-free maple syrup off Brittney's behind. Then he ate the
carrot, withdrawing it only at the last moment, when it was almost
completely eaten, so that the natural suction of Brittney's ass would
not pull the last part of the thing into her colon. The doctor ate
every bit of the carrot, despite Brittney's anal juices which were
smeared on the part that had been in her ass.
"Delicious," the doctor remarked.
Despite the depredations she was suffering, in spite of the
fear she felt, Brittney harbored a secret pride. The couple clearly
admired her. She knew now that she must be as pretty as everyone said
she was, why else would this professionally-clad man eat something he'd
pulled from her ass? The nurse worried her: she had a youthful
cruelness to her. But Brittney was beginning to feel comfortable with
the doctor, with his personality if not with his actions. Secretly she
almost wished she might stay with him here, and please him with her
proud body.
The doctor must have been thinking something similar, for he
suddenly said, as Brittney was freed from the table,
"I have something else I'd like to show you, my dear. Again it
pertains to your bottom, which I find quite fascinating, even more
fascinating than the rest of your lovely form. I have a stool
downstairs. Perhaps you have seen one before. It is equipped with a
dildo. I would like you to sit yourself on it to force your behind to
open more. It would be a difficult procedure. You might tear yourself
a little doing it, but it would be for a good cause. You have an
absolutely lovely ass and I would love to put myself into it, but as you
can see I'm large and you're only 13. The two of us need a little
assistance in accomplishing such a feat.
Brittney nodded. She let the man lead her into another room,
into a `sitting room,' as the nurse called it. But though the room had
big comfortable chairs the thing Brittney was offered was clearly
perilous: A wooden stool, bolted to the floor in the middle of the
room. A good-sized rubber prick was fastened to its seat, making
sitting on the stool quite impossible without forcing the thing up
inside oneself. Still wearing her gag, Brittney mounted the stool. The
nurse oiled the big dong sticking up from it as Brittney hung poised
over it, her bare feet perched on horizontal bars running between the
stools legs. Then the nurse squirted her anus, to make the passage
easier, causing Brittney to cry from behind her gag as the squeeze
bottle poked into her ass. At the doctor's command, placing her hands
down on the seat itself, Brittney began to apply her bottom to the fake
cock. She wedged it up between the cheeks of her ass, her childish
bottom tensing as she did so. Gradually Brittney became bolder; for one
thing, her arms were growing tired of supporting her weight. She let
more and more of herself rest on the stool's stiff member, easing it
with greater force against her tight little sphincter. She felt
strangely proud of herself, working her virgin bottomhole like this,
sweat on her brow, her breasts hanging down freely, her ass protruding
toward her hosts. Brittney shouted as she felt the dong violate the
closeness of her sphincter, pushing up into her colon. Bravely, after
lifting up briefly, she attacked the thing with her bottom again. This
time it went in deeper! She did not allow it to escape her again,
though she did ease the pressure a little by rising up slightly. Then
it was down with herself once more, her slim back rippling, her small
muscles along it showing, her bottom jutting out more lewdly, the thing
splitting her.
"Bravo! Keep going!" the doctor urged. Brittney obeyed,
thrusting herself closer and closer downward onto the stool, gasping and
shrieking as she felt the consequences of this in her bottom. It was
difficult, it was impossible, or seemingly so, yet she worked at it,
finally and with a great triumphant sigh seating herself on the stool,
the dildo plunged all the way up her as far as its length would permit.
Brittney blinked. Her hosts clapped. "Now work yourself on it," the
doctor told Brittney. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you if you hurt
yourself doing it. Push your ass up and down, let yourself be violated
to the utter depths. Force yourself to the point of ruin if you can
bear to; it is necessary to achieve the proper opening-up of your little
butt.
Brittney obeyed. With increasingly urgent motions she speared
herself on the awful thing that was splitting her guts. There was no
joy in it, in fact it was downright painful, but doing it gave her a
glowing sense of accomplishment, when it was finally done, and she had
been ruthless with herself, nearly tearing her colon in her attempt to
make herself a woman, no longer a child.
Samuel came to pick her up that afternoon. Brittney could
barely sit on the seat beside him, in his big truck. He told her to lie
down on her belly. She was small, there was enough room on the big
bench seat, if she put her head in his lap and bent her knees and hooked
her feet through the passenger side window. Of course the secret
purpose of this was soon revealed: it was not Samuel's concern for
Brittney's comfort that was on his mind, for she found herself gagging
on his deep-thrusting cock all the way back to Ellen's.
"You have a strong penis," Brittney said, when they got out of
the truck.
"Thanks," Samuel said. He wiped sperm from the corner of his
mouth. To his amazement, as they came through the gate, the girl had
swallowed a lot of him down. It was, as far as he knew, her first
swallow.
Ellen came out and greeted them.
"How is your bottom?" she asked Brittney.
"I opened it!" Brittney said.
"You got fucked?" Samuel asked.
"No, I fucked myself! My bottom, I mean. Then the doctor
strapped me down to his exam table and fucked me." It was all quite
frank, this conversation out on the lawn by Samuel's truck. The three
of them went inside, Brittney jiggling her hips, still feeling the
effects of the stool, the metal seat and the carrot, plus the "reward"
the doctor had given her for her obedient behavior.
"You are doing well," Ellen said. "The doctor called a few
minutes ago with his congratulations. He says your health, as it turns
out, is excellent. Even after your visit."
"Mmmm. That's good," Brittney said. She felt a new confidence
as she went into the stone building with Ellen and Samuel. She no
longer felt like a shy, wilting child. Despite her youth she felt like
a woman, newly-minted, with only her bottom (which was at the moment
quite sore) remaining to be opened by a real penis.
30
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
little girl liberation!
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
TORRID TWEENS
Chapter Nine
He walked along the street. It was late afternoon, the light
had turned a beautiful golden color in the last hour before sunset. He
gazed at the houses as he walked along, their neatly manicured lawns,
their green verdant trees, older trees and younger ones, intermixed,
birds singing high in the branches of some of them. He passed a newly
blooming rose bush. Its colors were bright radiant pink. Suddenly he
saw a figure up ahead of him, along the sidewalk. A girl was walking in
his direction, he realized. She looked quite cute. Young, but with a
pair of knockers that drew his eyes like magnets.
"Brittney," he said suddenly, recognizing the girl. She saw
him too.
"I've been popped!" Brittney said. He drew closer. She was
clutching a little purse in front of her now as he walked up to her.
She seemed tense, as if he might take the revelation in a way that would
exclude her, leaving her standing on the street as he went on his way.
But he liked her. He had always liked her and he still liked her now.
He even felt a kind of comradeship with her. They had done things
together, and apart, and now they were together again, unplanned but as
if the Gods themselves had somehow deigned it.
"Don't worry. I still love you, even if you have been popped,"
Steven said to the girl. He reached out and took her hand. It was warm
and small in his grasp. Her bosoms loomed beneath him, beneath her
upward titled chin as she looked up at him with her big brown eyes.
"I love you too," Brittney said.
They crossed the street together.
"Did you have fun in Paris?" Brittney asked Steven.
"Yes," Steven said. "I had a lot of fun."
"Me too," Brittney said. "But it was a little scary too. Was
it scary for you?"
"Only on the last day," Steven said. Brittney looked up at him
again, as they reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street.
"What happened to you on the last day?" she asked him.
Steven's buttocks clenched. He thought he could still feel where the
dildo had been inserted, a kind of tingling and burning where his poop
hole was. But it had been days earlier. He was sure it was just his
imagination, a psychosis.
"I'd rather not say," Steven told Brittney, flushing a little.
And then suddenly, further down the sidewalk, he saw a girl kneeling.
She had long blonde hair and it shone in the sunlight. As he peered at
her he saw she was trying to feed a Gummi Bear to a squirrel that had
come down from a tree growing in a space in the sidewalk.
"Laurie!" Steven exclaimed. Brittney saw her too and said,
"Hey, that's Laurie! Let's go talk to her." The squirrel
scampered away as they got close to the blonde. She looked up. "Hi,
Laurie! Wha'cha doin'?" Brittney asked.
"Oh. I was trying to feed that squirrel," Laurie said.
"Sorry," Brittney answered as the squirrel ran back up the
tree.
"No it's okay," Laurie said. "I don't think he likes Gummi
Bears." Steven gazed at the blonde. She wore new tennis shoes, ones he
had not seen before, made of white and pink leather. Above them she had
on stone washed jeans. They were intentionally ripped at the knees,
showing her skinny but lovely young legs where the fabric had been torn
away. She wore a shirt with kittens on it. It was a shirt she was
obviously outgrowing since it not only showed off her belly, which might
have been its intent; the whole shirt seemed under stress from her
breasts. Steven gazed at her tits. They'd gotten bigger since he'd
last saw her.
"We've been having adventures," Brittney said to Laurie. "Me
especially."
"What sort of adventures?" Laurie asked. Brittney looked at
Steven. She gave him a smile. He saw a new maturity in Brittney's eyes
and as she looked again at the girl standing in front of them, she
squeezed his hand.
"Come and we'll show you," Brittney said. Laurie thought for a
moment. One of her tennis shoes lifted and squeezed down on the other.
Then, abruptly, she said,
"Okay." And so they went off, the three of them, Steven
holding Brittney's hand and Brittney holding Laurie's. When they were
gone the squirrel came down from the tree and sniffed the Gummi Bear and
bit it.
30
--------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------
----- Back issues (and sinful stories): http://www.deja.com/
Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net
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Change "standard" archive to "complete" archive.
----- Other sinful providers:
Eli the Bearded: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/
Art's Erotic Stories and Photos: http://www.eroticstories.com
Anya's Lil' Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/
Silver: http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
----- Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place
in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges:
Radiant Identities Need to sin? http://www.amazon.com
----- Great sinful sites:
http://www.nambla.de
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
http://www.lp.org
-----Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller. Dreamgirls, Naughty Naked
Dreamgirls, and NND are sinfully registered trademarks of Andrew
Roller. All rights reserved.
----- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/files/Authors/Roller/www666/index.html
-----END OF story EMISSION Call the Cops! 1-800-555-TELL
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