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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BOTTOMS IN BONDAGE
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Chapter Seven
My first awareness was of light. Soft, enveloping light. Daylight.
Early morning. I felt warmth beneath me. I was used to my cool,
antiseptic bedsheets at home. Instinctively, thinking myself to be still in
some odd dream, I snuggled against the warmth. My bottom felt strange. I
felt cool air washing over it, chilly early morning California air, yet it
seemed to burn with some kind of inner heat that licked all across both my
cheeks.
A kiss upon my bottom. Cool, wet. I jerk. It imparts a certain sting
to my flesh, though it is but a kiss. Why is my bottom so sensitive? I
look up, find I cannot move my arms. Before I can turn my head about feet
approach, a blindfold sweeps down over my eyes, plunging me into night
again.
�Ah, who is it?� I ask, still thinking myself in my bedroom, and in
dreamland also. My lips form a pretty O. The thought of a ball gag comes
to my mind. A ball gag?
A finger plunges into my mouth. I suck upon it. A thumb, a penis?
Twin kisses muss my hair. Someone has combed it in the night.
�Don�t worry, it�s just me,� a childish voice pipes up. A breath of
womanliness interlaces it, as if the girl is but a teen, like myself.
�I can�t wake up,� I complain aloud. The finger is gone from my
mouth now. It is stroking my hair.
�Bye,� the voice says suddenly. �I�ll be back as soon as I can be.�
�Mee to!� a higher voice chimes in. It is a voice of girlish indignity,
as if interrupted in some important task. But I was only dreaming of some
innocent sister, my childhood make-believe sister, combing my long lovely
hair. My Little Pony hair. The two of us, we had it, equally long, in Make-
Believeland. Why can�t I move my hands? I wiggle. I have to go to the
bathroom!
�Oh, darling. Is that you?� a voice asks, then answers itself, as if
having just opened its eyes to take in the world. I wish I could open mine.
Why can�t I rise from this dream? My bladder is full. Why does my bottom
burn so?
�Mmm, it is you,� the female voice says. I am kissed on the lips, by
someone from below.
�Who are you?� I ask. �Let me wake up! I have to go pee!�
A gentle laugh. A sweet insucking of breath, as if the person below
me is suffering some gentle hurt, savoring it almost. Since when have I
ever dreamed that my bed was a woman?
�Darling, don�t you remember the party?� a semi-familiar, feminine
voice asks murmuringly. �You are not dreaming. Ah, you cannot pinch
yourself, and neither can I. Enjoy your imprisonment. I see someone
bathed me in the night, slipped fresh sheets under me as I drowsed. How
naughty of you to pee on me! Are you going to do it again now?�
�Oh, my God! You mean I didn�t -- (recognition flashed through me) -
- didn�t DREAM all that?�
�No, dear. You peed right in my mouth, you naughty little thing, and
if my hands were free I�d spank you soundly for it right now!�
�Your wish must be my command, for my bottom hurts terribly right
now!� I confided, still half-sleepy and unaware in my night-inducing
blindfold.
�You were whipped, darling, by my husband,� the female voice
answered. Mistress!
�Oh, my!� I said, fully awake now. �Please, I must ---� What must I
do? I thought a moment, rolled a bit back and forth on the soft body
beneath me. At last, savoring the awfulness of my predicament, I
snuggled into mistress� arms. Sandra. Yes. Her name was Sandra. She
kissed me again, right on the lips, asking no invitation, needing none. Our
mouths were petals, twin flowers poised one above the other. I kissed her
back, let her tongue explore within my mouth.
�Someone must let me up,� I said at last. �Untie me, I mean. I�m
going to wet the bed...wet YOU if they don�t.�
�Nobody will,� Sandra replied simply. �Master will come when he is
ready, not before. If you cannot hold it you will just have to defile me, but
I warn you that you�ll be punished for it.�
�By you?� I asked.
�No, dear. We are both slaves now, equally, though He may use you
more gently than me. He knows I am lean and strong, healthy, a full-
grown, full-bodied woman. I MUST take what he gives me, and I made a
vow when we married that I would try my very best. You he will be more
tender with, I hope.� She shivered. Then, in a low, meek voice, her
confidence utterly dissolved, she added: �If my wrists were loose, though,
I spring you free in a minute and get us both far away from here. My
husband came in the night and told me all the things he has planned for me
in the coming days. Wretched, disgusting things.� She shivered, began
sobbing softly into my golden mane of hair.
�Did--?� I felt like a heel asking it. �Did he say anything about
me?� But she just cried softly, then stopped after a bit. I was beginning
to wiggle with very GREAT need, my ass cheeks perpetually clenched now,
my thighs pressed tightly together as if I were some little girl in
kindergarten waiting in line for the potty.
�Do not squirm so, dear. I ache from all the merciless fucking. God,
it feels like they went so deep and hard, so many of them, my internal
organs feel all jumbled up...you�re making it worse!�
�I-I cannot hold it!� I cried suddenly, absorbed in my own need.
�Yes, pee darling, if it will stop your squirming,� Sandra urged me.
�Eeek!� a voice somewhere behind cried. �You�re PEEING on her!�
�Shhh!� a second reprimanded. Both female. Both young.
�Ooops! Hide! Here he comes!� One to the other. A scuttling sound.
A closet opened, closed.
�Well, I see at least they blindfolded you!� a man�s voice bellowed.
He sounded big and hairy. With surefooted steps he came into the room.
�Good morning, dear. May I get up and fix you some coffee?� Sandra
asked him. I pretended to be asleep. It must, I thought, be Sandra�s
husband. His dominion over me during the night washed back into my
brain, making me tremble. I had humbled myself to the level of his
complete and total slave. I�d even abandoned my own master. Or he�d been
unable to protect me. Yes. I remembered it all now. Could such awful
things really have happened to me? A throb in my bottom. Yes, yes they
had. Good God! And now I�d just wet the bed, urinated on the woman
beneath me. I could not feel the wet spot, for my bottom was lofted high
by pillows. It jutted out beyond all else the cushions held up, arranged
that way, for immediate and unconditional fucking by whoever might enter
the room.
�Master? Is that you?� I blurted. Ah, I should have feigned sleep.
So easy with a blindfold. Yet I�d spoken anyway.
�It is me, and I am looking for two little mice,� he replied. �Rose,
and her high-minded companion Linda. The cops apparently got called
away just after I brought my wife in here, leaving those two behind with
the run of the entire house. Kitty should have controlled them. But the
bitch went out dancing! She had no male cops, and couldn�t get in here, so
she left! She will burn in a private Hell built specially for her if I ever
get hold of her,� my new Master vowed.
�Please let me up, dear,� my Mistress below begged.
�Never!� Sandra�s husband replied. �You are going to remain tied
there for many hours, perhaps days, let up only when I wish it. And you
will be repeatedly fucked until your belly swells up with a child. There
will be no pregnancy test kits used here.� He laughed. �Though you may,
indeed, pee quite a lot in the coming days, for your mouth seems perfectly
positioned to receive whatever I wish to pour into it. I have only to pinch
shut your nostrils.� He turned, stamped about the room. I half-expected
to hear two little voices call out, �You�ll never find us!� but they didn�t.
Perhaps this game of hide-and-seek was not all just for fun.
Sandra�s husband stomped out. To help ensure his success in finding
the girls, he locked the bedroom door behind him. Locking us in. We were
indeed his sex slaves. Tied, our cunnies offered up. A thrill seized me.
And yet I did not wish to be here. There was a scent of real danger lurking
here, in the tread of Sandra�s husband upon the floor, in the way he seemed
to regard us as property...to be used and disposed of.
There was a slow sliding sound, as of a closet door opening.
Footsteps approached. Softly, cautiously. There was a shifting of the bed.
Knees kneed. Hands suddenly leapt upon me. Small, soft hands.
�Quick! Untie them!� a voice commanded. Linda�s voice. The hands
slipped up my arms to my wrists.
�Help me do it, then!� It was Rose. I felt a tug at my bonds. I
realized Rose must be the one who was trying to undo me. Linda was
playing supervisor. It was in her nature.
Rose struggled with my bonds at the headboard, hoping to free them.
Mistress shifted below me. I sensed Linda�s knees rising, her feet planted
themselves firmly upon the bed. She was standing up now. Standing up to
break open mistress� handcuffs. Perhaps she had found the key, intrepid
girl. I imagined her arms lifted, her breasts jiggling freely between them,
soft yet youthfully firm, well appointed with twin nipples. And her ass,
jutting behind her, looking moonish as she stood flatfooted on the bed.
Master would truss her up just like that, and whip her passionately, if he
returned, I guessed.
�Don�t break your nails, darlings,� Mistress sighed below us.
�We�ll try not to,� guileless Rose replied.
�We are NOT just playing!� Linda said tersely to Mistress from
somewhere above my head. �Your husband plans to impregnate us all!�
�Even me?� I blurted suddenly. I feel alarmed at the prospect of
being a mother at 15. Or, worse, being spermed just so some man could
get off watching me have an abortion!
�Yes, of course! You especially,� Linda replied to me. My stomach
felt like a stone had just dropped into it. My knees felt weak. Splayed
apart and weak-kneed, my wrists still wrapped up at the headboard, I was
in the perfect position for it. All he had to do was shove himself in and
ply his rod back and forth until he came.
�But you and me too!� Rose announced, in her high-pitched, childish
voice, talking to Linda. At the headboard she worked to free me, a girl
scout learning knots. How to UNtie them, just the opposite of what those
naughty boy scouts learned. �Oh, please hurry,� I thought to myself.
�Before we three get tangled up in motherhood, courtesy of Sandra�s
husband! (For poor Sandra, it was already too late!)
�We read all about it in his notes, down in that revolting basement!�
Linda half-screamed, then remembered to speak softly, seemed to hunch
lower.
�Yes, his �exercise room,� for girls and women,� Rose added. �We
read that too, in his notes.�
�How did you two girls get down there?� Sandra asked, her voice a
mixture of amusement and alarm.
�We snuck all over!� Linda said.
�Yes, all over. And we found the bathroom too,� Rose said firmly.
�A REAL bathroom, with a real potty in it.� Sandra sighed below me,
seemed embarrassed, said nothing.
�Get my blindfold off!� I implored. Someone. Anyone.
�Sorry about that,� Rose said. �We had to pretend to obey.� I felt
her hands leave my wrists. Then they were in my hair at the back of my
head. There was a loosening of the blindfold and suddenly it was gone.
�Oh, thankyou! At last I can see again!� I exclaimed.
�Shhh!� Linda admonished me, standing over me, her bush displayed
to my eyes as I lifted them to observe her. Like ripe fruit at summer, up
in a tree, her breasts showed their curved, weighted undersides to me. Big
and firm. With nipples that were stiff from our shared excitement. Our
emergency. We must escape Sandra�s husband before he returns!
I glanced up at my still-captive wrists at the headboard. �Break a
leg, or a nail!� I scolded Rose. I was peeved at her for blindfolding me.
Yet I realized I would have done the same to please Master. Or to appease
him. Why did I still call him Master? He would be Daddy if we didn�t
hurry.
�Ah, at last!� I said a few moments later as Rose got me free at last.
For a moment I just looked at mistress, wishing in part that she remained
confined to the bed until He returned. Above me I heard a jangling. I
looked up and saw that Linda, somewhat �put out,� was having to go
through a whole ring of keys, trying each one, in order to unlock Mistress.
Mistress, Sandra, my mind alternated so in my thinking of her. She
was both my companion and...something more. A girlfriend, yet a kind of
chaperone too. Though of what quality I wasn�t sure. I rolled off her
reluctantly. Somewhere inside me I�d wanted to just lie there and kiss
her, wait for Master, wait for him to come back and find us all naked and
naughty.
�Please hurry!� Sandra implored Linda. She at least had finally
decided to flee. �Oh, God, I wish I could remember which key it is, staring
at them all like this,� she added. Suddenly there was a sound from outside
the bedroom. Linda jerked up her head, frightened, dropped the ring of
keys onto Sandra�s stomach. They bounced. Sandra winced. To her credit,
Linda bent over and applied the keys to the handcuffs once more, instead
of running away. Rose and I rolled off the bed, glanced around us
uncertainly. We were mice, trapped and with nowhere to flee.
�I got it!� Linda announced suddenly, happily. Sandra yanked down
her arms. She attempted to roll off the pillows, found she could hardly
move. �Ohhhh, run girls, I can�t make it!� she cried.
�No, you must!� I yelled. Together with Linda I got her up. There
was a rattling at the door.
�God Dammit! Who in God�s name TimeLocked this thing?� a voice
roared. I saw Linda look at Rose.
�The panel downstairs!� Rose said shiveringly, excitedly. We were
all totally naked now, babes in a wood of bondage and sadism, with the
wolf at the door.
�You girls found the panel for the Electric Locks?� Mistress smiled.
She looked refreshed from her sleep. Someone had brushed her hair during
the night. Our night visitor. Had it been her husband? Did he have a
tender side to him? Warmth arose somewhere deep within my womb. I
imagined him whipping me, peeing on me, then bathing and brushing me
later. So tender. Yet so demanding.
Suddenly the door flew open. It sagged on its hinges. Master,
Sandra�s husband, looked enraged. We retreated, the four of us, into a
corner at the far end of the room. We clung to ourselves, each other,
shaking visibly. Master�s face softened. He laughed. �You girls are quite a
treat!� he said. �Look at you. Four jaybirds, naked as jaybirds, no less.
Find the key to the Master Bathroom and wash yourselves up. I have a full
day of activities planned for you, but I�ll make them less onerous if you
behave properly from now on.�
We seemed to melt before him. His penis was hard, fully erect.
Suddenly we flocked to it, all four of us, competing perhaps, flocked like
homing pigeons. Naked we dashed across the room and greeted his cock
with our hands, our mouths. We knelt in silent offering before his loins
and began licking him and squeezing him with furious, wordless passion.
�I must still punish you for freeing yourselves, though,� he said. He
grabbed myself and Rose by the hair and shoved our faces closer. I inhaled
the musky scent of his loins.
Amidst our seeking, licking tongues, he did not last long. He
frightened me when he came. I pulled my head back, got hit by his seed
right in my eye. He swung his manhood about and made sure we all got our
share.
�Lick yourselves clean, do not waste it,� Master ordered us. Eagerly
we set about kissing and licking each other�s faces until his seed was all
swallowed. We licked up even the stray drops in each other�s hair, and on
each other�s shoulders and breasts.
�Thank me for making more sperm for you to enjoy,� Master
commanded us. Like doggies we knelt, scrunched down, hands on our
knees, faces uplifted, and thanked him.
�Thank you, Master,� four times in succession. Even Rose was
getting into it, inspired perhaps by Master�s beautiful cock. And Linda too,
despite her hyper-moral outlook on life.
�I�m going out,� Master announced to us. �When I return I expect you
girls to be all prettied up and all tied down on the bed, with your legs
properly spread. Failure to do so will result in sure, swift punishment. It
is your choice.� We nodded, accepted his terms. We watched as he
crossed the room and picked up Linda�s keys. Then he strode from the
bedroom, leaving us behind. Swallows in our nest, awaiting his return.
�How shall we bathe in the master bathroom if he took the keys?�
Linda was asking a little later, after we�d sat on our heels, marveling at
the sight of his retreating butt even after he�d left.
�Oh, silly! He forgot to leave them, took them out of unthinking
spite!� Sandra exclaimed. �The front door is electrically locked, though, I
assure you, by a remote control in our car. We cannot open it from inside
the house, or anywhere, without that remote. It�s designed that way.�
�I don�t mind,� I sighed. I was still remembering the force with
which he�d expelled his sperm, delighting in it.
�Come, we can bathe on the porch, using the hose,� Mistress invited.
She led, and we followed, trooping obediently after her swaying motherly
ass. Ducklings crossing a highway of the mind. Rose touched my still-
visibly slashed heinie, I turned; we shared a smile.
Ah, how delightful it was! We squealed and ran in the sunshine,
dashed all around the flowers in our Secret Garden. Just beyond you could
hear the traffic; people honking, cursing sometimes. But within the four
high walls of the garden we were utterly free. We peed with abandon on
our favorite flowers, Sandra even, lowering her pussy dangerously close to
a small budding rosebush. She gave it an impromptu summer shower,
though a cloudless sky reigned overhead. And we used the nasty potty, the
one that made our butts spread their cleavage so boldly, pooped into it for
each other, for a helicopter that whizzed by overhead. It circled back
again, we fled laughing into the shade of a berry tree. We waited until it
left.
We were naked and lovely and wet, yet our hair, half-dried by the
sun, wet again in places by our playing, fell in tumbling locks of gold and
almond. None of us were artificial in our choices of hair color. My private
mound matched my tresses as sweetly as Rose�s matched hers, or Linda�s,
or Sandra�s. We compared pussies, stroked each other softly, examined
each other�s boobies for lumps. And then we were Indians again, streaking
about and fighting over the hose and spraying each other. At last we
retreated to the house. We made a picnic basket for ourselves and ate
lunch in the nude out on the porch, sitting on towel-covered benches
around a picnic table. Then we went about preparing our bodies for the
coming night. We took another bath outside, more serious this time,
taking turns underneath the hose, which we held for each other. Then we
made ourselves up in a little bathroom near the kitchen, a bathroom with
just a toilet and sink. There was spare makeup stashed there, and we did
each other up like Geisha dolls might have, seriously and purposefully. We
wondered at our master�s absence. Perhaps he was purposely delaying,
giving us a rest from our slavery.
At last night settled in. We were dolled up perfectly, four willing
sex slaves awaiting our master. We had changed the sheets before doing
ourselves, hand-washed them outside, then replaced them with new ones.
Our own bodies were now sparkling clean, our hair and nails perfect, our
lips rimmed with lipstick and our eyes lined as prettily as Cleopatra�s.
We were, of course, still totally nude, and as we stood in the Master
Bedroom contemplating its bed we wondered if we should obey Master�s
last order. Would we really tie each other down, leaving only one of us
with, at best, her hands free?
�It is his fault for being so late,� Sandra said at last. �We shall
tease him, girls. We�ll go dancing and make him jealous.�
�Sandra!� I said. My eyes were wide, as were Rose�s and Linda�s.
�He is a harsh master. We will not be happy if he gets back and finds us
gone!� Reflexively I put my hands to my bottom and felt the flesh there.
Lightly I massaged it. Ah, it was healed now. I turned, looked in a mirror.
The marks were gone. My chubby cheeks loomed at me, lightly tanned now,
but still lighter than the rest of me, which had a deeper tan from previous
sunnings.
The bedroom telephone rang. Sandra walked over to it, looking
glorious in her nudity. �Yes?� she asked. Her long auburn hair fell about
her face, perfectly curled and coiffed. A phone sex caller�s dream. And
then her face fell. She listened.
We spent the night together in bed, crying. Sandra�s husband had
been killed in a car crash, hurrying home to be with us. Feeling awkward
in our clothes, hastily pulled on (Sandra doing as best she could for the
rest of us from her own wardrobe), we visited the hospital where her
husband was pronounced dead. Then, prisoners without our warden, we
returned to Sandra�s. Tearily we consoled each other during the long
night, lying in the very bed he�d planned to sperm us in. Rose, Linda,
myself, would never feel him within us. And our bottoms remained
unvoilated, untried and untested, though he�d vowed to see we lost our
virginity there. Wobbling our tits against one another, sharing our tears,
we lay in enforced chastity upon the bed, waiting for a Master who would
never return.
30
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