- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BOUND FOR PLEASURE
Chapter One
�There will be a party this evening, Claire. I should wish for you to
attend,� Aunt Elizabeth called from the kitchen. A moment later she
brushed through the curtain of glass beads that separated the kitchen from
the living room. Her niece, Claire, sat hunched on the sofa. She was
watching T.V. Mandy Moore blared from the set. Next to Claire, on the
cushions of the sofa beside her, there was a plate of Oreo cookies. Claire
was unscrewing a cookie. She looked up. As she did, she put half of the
cookie to her mouth, holding the other half in her other hand. She licked
off the cream.
�But we just got home from the zoo,� Claire said, cream on her
tongue and her lips and her teeth. Her voice was a whine. She wasn�t
really tired, though, just hot, her aunt surmised.
�We got in an hour ago,� Aunt Elizabeth told Claire. �I told you to
bathe so you�d be fresh. Now you�re still feeling hot, and you�re stuffing
yourself with sugar.� Aunt Elizabeth looked at Claire�s clothes. Her eyes
were disapproving, and her niece knew it. The girl�s Calvin Klein jeans
were ripped at the knees. Not from overuse, they had just been bought
yesterday, but because Claire had taken a scissors to them. She had taken
the same scissors to her top. It was cut just below the breasts, baring
her soft child�s belly. Her growing tits pushed teasingly on the fabric of
her shirt so that her boobs looked like they might thrust through it. She
wore no shoes. The soles of her feet were black.
�I swear, you are turning into a little tramp!� Aunt Elizabeth told
Claire. She walked over to the sofa. Claire, thinking Aunt Elizabeth was
going to stop her from eating, scooped up the plate of Oreos and put them
on her knees. But Aunt Elizabeth reached for the T.V. remote control, on
the sofa next to the spot where the cookies had been. She aimed it.
�No! That�s Mandy Moore!� Claire shrieked. The T.V. went black.
As Claire remonstrated, her voice high like that of a mouse with its
tail stepped-on, Elizabeth shook her head. The girl was 14. At eight she
might have been forgiven such self-centered, indulgent behavior, but she
was almost a woman now. Her body had curves; her legs, still long,
weren�t skinny like toothpicks any more. She was young and beautiful, but
she still had the spoiled disposition of a child. Worse, there were boys
next door, and Claire, when she wasn�t indulging herself, had been flirting
with them. Elizabeth had inside knowledge on the boys. One had V.D., two
had the clap. All three had herpes. She had learned about them from a
nurse who worked at the college�s health clinic where she taught. Aunt
Elizabeth knew, even if Claire, didn�t, what would happen if she left her
alone in the house. She�d come home to find the girl not only deflowered,
but diseased as well. She had a responsibility to Claire�s mother not to
let that happen. The girl had been sent to her for the summer, against her
wishes, but she wasn�t sending her back with diseases.
�Aunt Elizabeth, just because you�re a college professor doesn�t
mean you can boss me around,� Claire protested. She put another Oreo to
her mouth. She licked off the cream. Then, the cream showing on her lips,
she continued. �Anyways, you�re not that much older than me. You�re only
24. So that�s only 10 years. I think I�m entitled to do what I want.�
The older woman let the girl�s voice prattle on as she remembered
her conversation with Claire�s mother. It was two weeks ago, school was
just out. Claire had a new boyfriend, and this time it looked to be serious.
The guy was okay, a handsome enough fellow, but he was also the local
drug dealer.
�I know what he wants,� Claire�s mother, Jane, told Elizabeth.
�Oh yes,� Elizabeth answered, sipping tea in the woman�s parlor.
�He wants your daughter for her mind.�
�She�s old enough,� Jane continued, ignoring Elizabeth�s humor. �I
mean, I did it at that age. But this guy, he�ll do more than just take her.�
Jane looked exasperated.
�And?� Elizabeth asked.
�I don�t want her doing drugs,� Jane replied. �Sex, but not drugs.�
Loud music blared from the living room. It had been Mandy Moore on the CD
player that day, not the T.V. �Turn that down!� Jane yelled.
�And rock and roll,� Elizabeth cooed, sipping her tea again, very glad
she didn�t have a daughter of her own.
�That�s why I want you to take her,� Jane said, turning again to the
woman. Elizabeth, so calm a moment before, nearly spluttered out her tea
onto the parlor�s carpet.
�Me?!� Elizabeth asked.
�Yes,� Jane answered. Elizabeth waved her cup in the air.
�No! No!� Elizabeth said, moving her arm expansively as if to ward
off evil spirts. �Weren�t you listening?� she asked. �A moment ago I just
got through telling you about the new friends I�ve made. We meet every
Saturday and we dress up and we...� her voice trailed off. She blushed, as
she had been blushing minutes ago, before she managed to compose herself
and let Jane talk of her niece. Now the redness was back in her cheeks,
and her breezy manner, so newly acquired, was gone.
It was Jane�s turn to look composed and to sip from her tea.
�I know,� Jane said. �My husband and I used to go to such things.
Before we had Claire. If our group was still meeting I�d have a mind to
take Claire along.� Elizabeth�s eyes widened.
�You would?� she asked.
�Yes,� Jane said. �She�s going to lose it. Why not with someone I
approve of?�
Elizabeth�s eyes wandered. Her blush deepened. She held her cup as
still as she could, but it shivered in her hand. �Perhaps things have
changed,� she whispered. When her eyes met Jane�s, after a moment of
trying to avoid them, she said, �One knows roughly who will show up but
not to the letter.�
�You mean she might be had by a stranger,� Jane said.
�Yes,� Elizabeth answered. The word sprang from her lips, as if to
catch Jane and force her to listen. �A- A stranger! So it�s quite
impossible.� Jane frowned.
�But they are all tested beforehand?� she asked. She knew her
younger sister to be a cautious woman.
�B- Beforehand, yes, but--� Elizabeth said, still feeling awkward
and nervous, her cup shaking more in her hand than before.
�It�s settled, then,� Jane said. She turned again in her chair and
yelled once more for Claire, in the next room, to turn down her CD.
�What�s settled?� Elizabeth asked.
�She will spend the summer with you,� Jane answered. �Take her to
your events. See that she meets someone nice. Someone I would approve
of. When she returns she will perhaps be a little older and wiser. Wise
enough, I should hope, to listen to softer music, and to not fall into bed
with the first drug dealer she meets.�
�He is a high school boy,� Elizabeth blurted, suddenly finding herself
in the disquieting position of defending a drug dealer.
Jane sipped her tea. Her eyes were clear. They showed a kind of
resigned determination. Her lips quivered slightly as she drank, but her
words were composed when she spoke: �Better a devil you know, than a
devil I don�t want to know,� Jane said. �I�m not about to have our
neighborhood�s first crack baby.�
�But the men are older,� Elizabeth said. She felt as if she were
grasping at straws, slipping down a bank in wet mud.
�What? Successful young business men?� Jane asked. Elizabeth
nodded. �So I�m supposed to be afraid of them?� Jane said.
�But perhaps as old as forty,� Elizabeth countered.
�It is no matter,� Jane said. �My husband was forty when I met him.
I helped you get your degree, my dear, and you promised to pay me back.�
�Yes, but--� Elizabeth protested. Jane put down her cup.
�It�s settled,� Jane said.
And so it was, and now it was Saturday. And after two weeks of
skipping the parties, unwilling to take Claire along, Aunt Elizabeth had
decided to yield. She would take the girl. She was eager to see her
friends again, at the party, and she could not leave Claire alone in the
house. Aunt Elizabeth reached down. She picked up Claire�s cookies. The
girl groped after them, whining.
�Auntie!� Claire cried.
�To the bath tub, young lady,� Elizabeth answered. �We�re going out
tonight, you and I.�
�I�m not hungry,� Claire pouted. Thinking her Aunt planned to take
her to dinner, she added, �I don�t want to get fat.�
�Oh, Miss Oreo?� Elizabeth asked. She turned with the cookies,
holding the plate in her hands. She walked toward the kitchen.
�We won�t be eating, except perhaps canapes,� Elizabeth called. �I�ll
give you one of my pills before we go.�
It was half an hour later that Claire found herself wrapped in a
towel, wet from her bath, standing in her aunt�s bathroom on a soft fuzzy
floor mat. She regarded her aunt. The woman held a white pill in one
hand, a glass of water in the other.
�Open your mouth,� Elizabeth told Claire. The girl blanched.
�I don�t wanna,� Claire answered, parting her lips to say it. Her aunt
saw the opportunity and deftly pressed the pill between Claire�s lips.
Then, before the girl could spit it out, she put the water glass to her
mouth. She forced Claire to drink. The girl did not resist with all her
strength. She was 14, she might have refused, but she did not, and after
she�d swallowed the pill down, reluctantly, she asked,
�What was that for?�
�You have no idea?� Elizabeth asked. Her voice was solemn.
�I-- well, I--� Claire blushed. Elizabeth lifted her hand from the
girl�s lips to her her forehead. She brushed back wet strands of blonde
hair. The girl�s skin was white. Her eyes shone in her face like jewels in
an ivory Egyptian mask. She had beautiful eyes, Elizabeth remarked to
herself. All blue and glittery, fairy eyes. Elizabeth kissed the girl�s lips.
�Mmmmf!� Claire protested. Elizabeth ignored her objection. Lifting
her lips from the girl�s, she said,
�We must get you a costume. What would you like to be? I�m handy
at making things. A princess? An elf?� Claire, not knowing why a
costume was needed, thought a moment, and then said,
�I�d like to be an airline stewardess!�
�Very well,� Elizabeth answered.
�But why would I want a costume?� Claire blurted. Elizabeth pushed
the girl�s hair back off her shoulders. They were small, white. Frail bones
covered with ivory skin. Her hair was finespun wet gold.
�Because we all must be something,� Elizabeth said. She smiled. �I
will be a dark-haired gypsy, and you will be a new stew. Perfect!� She
pecked the girl on the cheek.
Forty-five minutes later the two women left the house. Elizabeth
wore a gypsy scarf around her head. It was multi-hued, the colors as
diverse as the rainbow but all in dark shades. Her brown hair was pinned
up inside it. Cheap gold colored earrings dangled from her ears. There
was glitter on her eyelids, silver and gold and rubies, little specks of
color that gave her made-up eyes an ethereal sparkle. Elizabeth�s cheeks
were rouged. They made her look like a cheap whore, or a female swindler,
and she didn�t care which way the look was taken. There was a collar
around her neck. It was black leather, with silver studs and a buckle. Her
neck looked thin and fragile in it, as if it might be broken by it. And then
there was her dress. The top was tight, clinging to her cleavage, skin-
tight, her breasts moving and shaking within the fabric to show she wore
no bra. Lower down, her dress was cut away to show her belly. Her skin
was smooth and soft, tanned, her navel a perfect little dimple. Below the
flatness of her belly her skirts billowed. They were multi-hued like her
scarf, dark-shaded. Beneath the hem of her skirt her boots flashed, black
leather infrequently seen due to the length of her dress. She wore long
sleeves. Black leather gloves clad her hands.
Beside her walked Claire. The girl was primly dressed, as if ready
to attend to passengers on an airline. She wore a neat little blue cap on
her head. It had no bill, but was softly rounded, her hair tied in a ponytail
and streaming out under its back. Around her throat Claire wore a white
collar, the collar of her blouse. The blouse was mostly unseen due to a
long-sleeved blue jacket Claire wore. A mod tie hung down from her
throat, tied at the front of her blouse. The tie was a swirl of patterned
flower designs, light blue against a light grey background. Claire�s hands
were bare. Her face was without makeup, though she had wanted some.
Elizabeth told her she looked prettiest just as she was. The woman also
wanted no man to be mistaken about Claire�s youth. They would be easier
on her if they could see she was still a child.
Claire wore a modest blue skirt and dark, transparent stockings.
Under her dress garters held the stockings aloft. On her feet she wore
polished black shoes. They were new, unscuffed. Elizabeth had bought
them for her the previous week but the girl, in her torn jeans, had stuck to
her bare feet and sneakers. Now, however, she was enjoying playing
�dress up,� as her aunt described it to her. She held her aunt�s hand as
they walked to Elizabeth�s new white convertible.
They streaked through the night, Elizabeth at the wheel. Claire held
her cap in her lap so the wind wouldn�t blow it off. The scarf on
Elizabeth�s head clung to her hair. It was tied tightly enough so that the
wind only ruffled it.
At a warm-looking house, the windows lit up but the curtains drawn,
Elizabeth parked along the curb. There were several other cars. Two were
in the driveway and three more in the street, one in front of her and two
behind her.
�Well, here we are,� Elizabeth said brightly. It had been a fifteen
minute ride. She looked in the convertible�s rear-view mirror. She
straightened her scarf on her head. Claire put on her cap. Then the two
young women got out of the car and, taking hands again, they went up a
walkway to the house.
They were received by a woman who looked about 30. She smiled at
them. She was dressed as a nurse, albeit with a shorter skirt than that
seen in hospitals, and patent leather white boots. Her name was Paige.
She knew Elizabeth by name but Claire she did not know. Elizabeth
introduced her.
�This is my niece,� Elizabeth told the woman. �I�ve brought her
along tonight. I hope it�s okay.� Paige frowned.
�We do not have child care,� Paige said.
�I brought her to be in the party,� Elizabeth said. The woman�s
frown softened a little, but lingered.
�She is not 18?� Paige asked.
�No,� Elizabeth said.
�I�m fourteen!� Claire said proudly. She stuck out her chest.
Elizabeth wondered if she�d try holding up fingers to show her age but
fortunately she did not. Paige�s frown remained.
�You have not been here in awhile, and you are new in any event,�
Paige explained to Elizabeth. �We are adding a new twist tonight.� She
leaned forward. She whispered in Elizabeth�s ear. Claire saw her aunt�s
eyes widen.
�But-- why?� Elizabeth asked.
�One of the men read about it and suggested it,� Paige said.
�They�ve spent all week getting the things together.� Paige tugged at her
too-short skirt and continued, her voice suddenly quavering, �I must
admit, it gives me the willies. But the men are determined. So you see,
for a child like... Sarah, was it?�
�Claire,� Claire corrected.
�Yes, Claire,� Paige said. �For a girl like her to start on a night like
tonight, especially considering her age...�
It was Elizabeth�s turn to tug at her skirts. �I will vouch for her,�
Elizabeth said. �I�m sure the men won�t be too hard on us. They can go
easy on her just as I�m sure they�ll go easy on us.�
Claire was watching all this with a sense of wonder, her big blue
eyes like lanterns guiding ships in the night. Her lips, slightly parted,
showed the wetness of her tongue within. It slithered out and wet her
lips.
�There must be no misunderstandings, then,� Paige said, after
whispering again to Elizabeth and seeing the woman nod in assent. She
turned to Claire. �My dear Sarah,� she said. Claire opened her lips to
speak but, feeling a certain mesmerism in the older woman�s voice, she
said nothing. �Dear Sarah,� Paige said again, not noticing her mistake.
�There will be much frivolity tonight. You have a very pretty costume.�
�Thank you, ma�am,� Claire replied.
�But you must understand that you will not be wearing it all night,�
Paige said. Claire�s face showed surprise.
�Oh, will someone else be wearing it?� the girl asked.
�No, of course not. You�re the littlest here and it�s made to fit you,�
Paige answered.
�Oh, but I don�t want to take another bath,� Claire protested.
Anxiously she looked at her aunt. Elizabeth blushed. Paige cleared her
throat, a high nervous cough, and, steeling herself, continued.
�My dear Sarah it is not for a bath that you will be disrobing,� Paige
said. There was a sudden sweat visible on the tip of her nose. Her
perfume, some variant of Gucci, grew stronger in the air. Elizabeth,
standing beside the girl, anxiously shifted her her slender-boned weight
within the confines of her boots. �It will be for having your belly filled,�
Paige told Claire. �Do you see what I mean?�
�I�m full. I ate Oreos,� Claire answered matter-of-factly.
Soon, slightly more informed but perhaps still somewhat misguided,
Claire took her place among the guests of the party. There were whoops of
appreciation as she entered a room at the back of the house with her aunt.
It was a room with several chairs and a sofa. The floor was deep-piled
carpet. The walls were papered with patterns of daisies. Their yellow
hue was reflected in the carpet, though the carpet�s yellow was paler.
Claire saw a sideboard. Someone had pulled open its glass doors. Whiskey
and rum and the odd wine bottle stood inside, visible through the glass or
in the opening of the pulled open doors. A man wearing a grey pinstriped
suit lifted aloft a glass.
�To Liz,� he called out.
�And to her friend,� a second man added. Claire blushed, as did
Elizabeth. The men drank down their toast and then came forward. Other
men, and several women, gathered around the two females. They were all
in costume: one was a fireman, another a coach, a third, a woman in a
purple dress, looked like a royal princess.
�Will she be partying with us tonight?� the princess asked. Her
name was LeeAnn.
�Yes,� Elizabeth answered. Her voice was nervous.
�She is so young,� LeeAnn commented.
�I�m fourteen,� Claire replied.
�Let me kiss you then, if you are that old,� LeeAnn said. She was
blonde, like Claire, and as she leaned forward, putting her lips to the
girl�s, leaning down and hugging her, a man, the fireman, lifted up the back
of Claire�s skirt.
�Oh please not so fast,� Elizabeth said, a squeak coming from Claire
as she felt the backs of her stockinged thighs and her pantied bottom
exposed. LeeAnn�s lips squelched her cry.
�God, what a perfect little ass!� the fireman said. A second man, the
coach, leaned in next to him, joining him in the view.
�A nice, fat, little round ass,� the coach agreed. �And such nice
panties. I�m a sucker for little girl panties.�
�So clean and white,� the fireman agreed. �They don�t really match
her black stockings, though. Let�s have them off her.�
�Well,� the coach said, �I really don�t think we should. When I was
driving over here I found myself behind a city bus. And a sign board on the
back of it said, �She looked 18 is no excuse.� And then it went on to say,
�Sex with a minor is a crime.�
�Good God, you�re right!� the fireman said. �And with this girl�s
chubby, childish cheeks, she barely looks 14, let alone 18.�
�Except for her tits,� the coach said. �Those big tits of hers make
her look 18.�
�So, we could say, �Her tits looked 18.��
�Right,� the coach said. �Except for her bottom. That�s still such a
small, little girl�s bottom. I guess all her extra fat is going into her tits.�
�It happens sometimes, with growing girls,� the fireman agreed. �I
really don�t think we should have sex with her. Remember what Caesar
said, �I came, I saw, I saw someone could get hurt if there was a battle,
and so I went home.��
�Right!� the coach agreed. �And remember what Jesus said, �Healing
on the Sabbath day is illegal, and I wouldn�t want to break the law.��
�And George Washington, remember him?� the fireman said. �I
quote: �I wouldn�t want to have an American Revolution. That would be
breaking the law.��
�Well, we better not have anything to do with her then,� the coach
said. �She�s a minor. And, now that I think about it, her aunt looks pretty
young too. I think I�ll go to the liquor store instead, and buy Penthouse,
and go home and jerk off.�
�Good idea!� the fireman said. �We�ll jerk off together.�
And so all the men went home, except for the coach and the fireman,
who went home together. The women, having nobody to party with, went
home also.
THE END
--------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------
----- Back issues (and stories): http://www.deja.com/
Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net
Don�t forget to click on �Power Search�.
Change �standard� archive to �complete� archive.
----- Other providers:
Eli the Bearded: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/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 a book? http://www.amazon.com
----- Great sites:
http://www.nambla.org
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
-----Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
is copyright 2000 by Andrew Roller. Naughty Naked Dreamgirls and
NND are trademarks of Andrew Roller. All rights reserved.
----- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
-----END OF story EMISSION
This story has been funded by the Feminist Alliance for Obedient
males, a tax-funded foundation promoting feminist values to the
Internet community. For comments, or to receive a grant for your own
stories, e-mail: selloutstories@wimp.net