---------------------------------------------------------------
      Visit me at:  http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         BUSH LEAGUE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                        Chapter Three

         We slept all day.  Eventually Louis got up.  In my sleepiness I felt 
him draw back the bedcovers after he�d slipped out, to admire Cheyenne 
and I.  We lay face to face, on our tummies, with our white bottoms 
sticking up at him.  Her arm was crossed protectively over my waist.  She 
was, after all, a little older than me.  
         Louis traced his finger down the cleft of my bottom.  It was all 
better.  I could feel that.  I tensed my cheeks a little.  In my mind I hoped 
he�d pry me apart and force me to take him up the ass.  But he must have 
thought I wanted him to desist, for he withdrew his finger.  He replaced 
the bedcovers.  I sighed, a little remorseful, but he took it for 
contentment and turned and strode from the room.  A father checking on 
his child, finding her asleep in her crib.  He left.  I was alone with 
Cheyenne.  She stirred a little and nuzzled me with her nose.  Her mouth 
exhaled into mine.  It was sweet, in a female, primalistic sort of way.  I 
drifted off to sleep again, feeling quite protected, thank you, despite the 
presence of the post above my head, where I�d been tied and beaten.  It was 
somnolent now, tucked back against the wall, like a penis put back in a 
man�s pants after he�s done using it.  
         Later I heard Polly shrieking.  I wondered, listened.  Yes.  She was 
running around the castle and had gotten Louis and Andre to chase her.  
When they flagged in their attempts to catch her she teased them.  My, 
such lurid taunts she used.  Where did she learn those?  And then she�d be 
screaming again, delightedly, as the two big men raced after her.  Back and 
forth through the trees they must be running now, for her screams did not 
disappear round the backside of the castle as before, but remained below 
my window, more distant, then closer again.
         �Oh, help!  I�ve got two big sausages after me!� Polly hollered, her 
voice bubbling with joy, and her boobies, no doubt, bouncing like frisky 
tennis balls on her chest.  They were all naked.  I was sure of it.  Polly 
was heedless of her mother�s warnings not to run about without a training 
bra on.  (Or, indeed, given her size now, a real bra.)  The men ran gleefully, 
without supporters to protect their balls, their big cocks erect and 
bouncing up and down like poles that high-jumpers extend before 
themselves to jump the high jump.  Except much thicker, of course.  Yes, 
much thicker.  I longed to raise myself up and look.  I was glad Andre had 
recovered from his whipping between the mayfair poles, on the dias.  Rose 
had not hit him hard.  She knew the value of a nice big pair of balls.  And 
Andre�s were a special prize, large enough to make one think of bowling 
balls, promising loads of sperm to the females whom he treasured, and 
who treasured his balls.
         Despite lying with my eyes closed, I could see Polly, infant-like, 
running with jiggling bottom cheeks, her fleet legs unsteady, her head 
turning back to see how close her beloved pursuers were.  And, when the 
men really put their minds to it, they would have no trouble catching her.  
It would be like chasing down a giggly toddler.  Just as I considered this I 
heard her yell out with dismay as she found herself captured.  Up they 
swept her, her feet kicking, her arms struggling, hoping to break free.  Her 
tummy heaved and her breasts shook, their points woefully hard, for she 
knew she could not be captured without punishment.  Such naughty words 
she�d used in teasing them!  Laughingly the men carried her off, big men, 
big as football linebackers, with poor Polly totally imprisoned now, held, I 
think, in Louis�s arms, for she had started by teasing him.
         Oh, how I wanted to see Polly get her just desserts!  I tried to rouse 
myself but my legs were still so stiff from Louis doing me, I could not get 
up.  I fell asleep again.  In my dreams I replaced Polly with myself.  Louis 
and Andre and Branson and even Lurch were all chasing me, through the 
trees and round the limo.  At last, to escape them, but really to let them 
have me, I dove into the pool.  And, of course, when I surfaced from my 
dive I saw all four of them arranged around the sides of the pool, standing 
like sentries, watching me.  Their arms were folded and my watery 
sanctuary had become my watery grave.  Their cocks stood out like tree 
trunks.  Then, like Pinocchio�s noses, their cocks began growing.  As I 
paddled in the pool I watched their cocks grow out, out, out, finally 
looming over my head as I hunched down, hoping to avoid them.  And then 
Louis�s cock rammed straight into my mouth.  I could not stop him.  He 
pried my lips apart.  I was forced to suck upon him.  Then he flexed his 
cock and I was lifted up out of the pool, struggling, trying to free my 
mouth, but there was no escape for me.
         �Look, I�ve caught a fish!� Louis crowed, and for a moment I could 
not tell whether he was speaking of me, caught on the pole of his cock, or 
was really speaking, outside my window, with little Polly wriggling in his 
arms, hoping to escape him.  
         Rose appeared.  I thought she was real but then realized I was in my 
dream again.  �Bring her to my skillet,� she intoned.  �I will cook her for 
your supper, men.�  And her skillet was the dias.  I was tied down to it and 
my legs spread.  �Yes, a most beautiful specimen of fish,� Rose said, 
clinically, inspecting my oyster-lipped cunt.  �Most difficult to catch, 
except for expert fishermen like yourselves, of course,� she added, eyeing 
Louis and Andre.
         �Oh, it is not difficult for us,� Louis said, diffidently, sitting nude 
at the table in the sunroom now, tying a napkin under his chin.  �We catch 
a new one every day.�  
         �Hurry up, I�m hungry,� Andre urged.  He banged his knife and fork 
down on the table.  Underneath it his big prick wriggled impatiently.  Then 
Polly shot past, outside, timing herself by Lurch�s watch as she ran around 
the castle.  I followed her somehow and found that we had to stop and 
jump through the hopscotch squares at the front of the castle before we 
could run around it again.  Our tits leapt and swung as we played 
hopscotch, our scissoring legs showing off our mounds without shame.  
Cars appeared on the desolate road beyond the castle and watched us 
through its gate with X-Ray eyes.
         �Hi,� I heard.  A nose nuzzled mine.  Cheyenne.  I blinked away my 
sleep and saw her lying beside me, her face pressed close.  
         �Hi,� I replied, smiling.  We kissed.  Our mouths were sweet.  We 
kissed again.  Her hand, which had lain protectively over my waist, passed 
down to my bottom and palmed it.  I let her feel me.  I spread my legs a 
little to invite her explorations.  We kissed a third time.  She slipped a 
finger between my legs and sought my spot.  I kept my legs splayed apart 
and we kissed again as she found me and delicately touched me in my 
special place.
         We did not hear the creeping of footsteps.  Suddenly, with no 
warning, our bedcovers were unfurled.  We were exposed, fish gasping and 
wriggling on a dock.  Rose stood over us, poking her head through the 
canopy of my bed.  She�d unveiled our naughtiness.
         �Girls!� Rose said.  �Are there so few men in my castle that you 
must entertain each other?  All by yourselves?�
         �We were just playing,� Cheyenne explained.  We tensed our heinies, 
worried she might slap us.  Instead she turned her attention to me.  She 
ran both her hands over my bottom, pressed them into my newly whitened 
flesh.  
         �Good,� Rose said.  �You have a nice, cream-white bottom again, 
Fleury.  And yours is nice too, Cheyenne,� she added, for my girlfriend 
seemed put out that she was not included in Rose�s inspection.  Rose 
vented my cheeks and examined my hole.  �Ah, how snug and tight you are, 
Fleury, despite the best efforts of some to enlarge you there.  Someday we 
will have to make you bigger.  There is no question about that.  I have a 
little leather belt.  It looks like an ordinary belt but there are three chains 
that loop down and connect themselves under it.  Sort of like panties, 
except without the connecting bits of cloth.  Just the skeleton, as it were, 
made of small chains.  And within the back chain there is a brass ring.  It 
fits right over the anus.  I�ll put you in those little panties someday.  And 
when you�ve got them on, of course, we can then begin to widen you.  There 
are a selection of shafts that come with the panties.  Each day we will 
plug a new one through the brass ring and, doing that, send it right up your 
anus.  You�ll wear the panties all day, plugged up your ass.  You�ll walk 
around the castle, doing what you�re told, or as you like, but of course 
everyone will see that you�re in training, because you�ll just wear the 
little chain panties, and nothing else.  I�ll want you to stay out of the sun 
since I like girl�s bottoms white.  Perhaps you can drape a little towel 
over your tushy if you lie out in the sun.  Just like I�d expect you to do 
now.  To keep your ass white, so when it�s whipped we can see all the 
stripes.�
         �It sounds...captivating,� I answered.  My speech slurred because I 
was still a little sleepy, and her words had induced a kind of prisoner-like 
listlessness in me.  She pried my cheeks harder apart and leaned down and 
let her breasts tumble out of her low cut, ruffled peasant gown.  She blew 
softly into my hiney hole.  
         �So sweet,� she said, Cheyenne watching her inspection of me with a 
little envy, I think, in her eyes.  We both liked being the center of 
attention, even if it meant showing off our fannies.  Rose lifted one of her 
big gourd-like breasts, heavy like a gourd but round like a grapefruit, and 
kissed and licked her nipple, preparing it, but for what?  Then I knew.  She 
let her breast drop into my bottomfurrow and she stabbed my hole with 
her hard nipple.
         �Oh!� I cried.  I had not expected it.  Fiercely she jabbed me with her 
nipple but I had little trouble taking it, for it was just a woman�s nipple, 
nothing more.  
         �Ah, if only I had a cock,� Rose sighed.  �I would ream you to the 
other end of South America and back, my dear.�  She stood, lifting herself 
and taking her tit with her.  She upped her dress and I saw she wore no 
panties beneath.  �But instead I�m stuck with this useless pussy.  Utterly 
useless for what I�d like to do with it sometimes.  Look at me!  Nothing, 
just a mount of dark hair and my twin lips beneath, as if God felt the lips 
on my face wouldn�t be enough for me, and had to give me a second pair.  
So I�ve got nothing, just a belly, two pair of lips, and my tits, of course, 
sticking out when I walk down the street like balloons and making 
everyone think I�m a bimbo.�  She sighed again.  She lowered her dress and 
put her breasts back inside it.  She straightened it.
         �Get up and get ready for dinner, girls,� Rose said.  �We�re going to 
have fun tonight!  Don�t wear anything.  Just come as you are, but see that 
your hair and your nails are perfect.  Absolutely perfect.�  She withdrew 
her head from the canopy, walked to the door.  �No playing in the tub!� she 
warned.  �Be good girls.  I�m serious.  I want you both on tenterhooks when 
you come downstairs, not exhausted because you�ve spent the last hour 
frigging each other to death in the bathroom.�
         �Yes, ma�am,� Cheyenne and I answered.  Our voices were musical.  
We sounded like small girls at a slumber party, waiting for mom to leave 
so we could discuss the finer aspects of boys.

         We came downstairs an hour later.  Rose led us into the ballroom, a 
room we�d not dined in before.  It was huge and had chandeliers in it, six in 
all, built of crystal and hanging from the ceiling, sprinkling their light 
down on us.  I saw a score of people, men and women, elegantly dressed, 
but Cheyenne and I, like singing telegram girls, were quite nude, except 
that I�d tied ribbons in my hair and so had she, to make ourselves extra 
pretty.  
         Polly was there.  Rose had turned her so that her bottom stuck out 
and she was leaning forward over a table.  Rose beckoned us.  To my 
surprise I saw Polly�s bottom was white.  Whatever Louis and Andre had 
done to her, they had not whipped her.  The day, I realized, had been cloudy.  
She had been able to run around naked and yet keep her bottom preserved in 
the state Rose preferred it in.  Polly was festooned with ribbons like 
Cheyenne and I.  In addition to decorating her hair they were tied round her 
upper arms, and again round her thighs, mid-way, tied off in little bows 
with streamers dangling down to her elbows and knees.  She was 
exceptionally delightful to look at.  Rose told me that Polly was to be 
served for dessert.  Indeed, all three of us were, and we were to decorate 
ourselves for the crowd, as they watched.  They had already begun their 
meal.  I wondered when Polly and Cheyenne and I would eat but I did not 
ask.
         Rose handed me a cannister of whipped cream.  �Decorate Polly, 
would you, Fleury?  Be still, Polly.  It is only whipped cream.�  Polly 
looked over her shoulder, like a child ignorant but wanting to know, and 
not sure it liked the answer.  Gracefully I took the whipped cream.  I 
wanted to appear as ladylike as I could, despite my nudity.  I aimed the 
cannister carefully and, at Rose�s direction, I carefully shot a line of 
whipped cream down Polly�s ass crack.  �Don�t wiggle, Polly, I want the 
line to be perfect,� Rose scolded.  Polly moved her hips once but I 
anticipated her movement and was able to keep my line of cream straight.  
         As I squirted Polly�s asscrack, Bambi, who wore a tight corset, met 
Cheyenne and drew her aside.  �More guests will be coming soon.  You must 
serve them their appetizer,� Bambi told her.  I could not study Bambi, but I 
caught a glimpse of her and saw that she wore a corset that plumped up 
her breasts and left them free, despite its tightness around her middle.  
Atop the mounds of her nude breasts her skin was all wet and there were 
bits of stray fruit lying atop them.  I realized, somehow, that Bambi had 
used her own bosoms as a serving tray.  She�d placed (or perhaps Rose had 
done it) bits of fruit atop her uplifted breasts.  Then she�d gone from guest 
to guest and served them this way, offering them her breasts, atop which 
was the fruit which they were invited to pluck from her with just their 
mouths.  Now it was Cheyenne�s turn, and she shivered a little as Bambi 
suited her up.  Polly, meanwhile, was to be the official dessert.  She would 
be made modest, perversely, by having whipped cream squirted over all her 
private places.  Then she would be served this way, and the guests would 
lick her clean, making her immodest again, and titillating her and 
themselves in the process.  I realized all this in a rush, squirting the 
whipped cream carefully down the indrawn line of Polly�s bottom crack.
         Rose turned Polly around.  The girl looked down at herself as Rose 
forced her to jut her hips out at me.  Her little cunt made a perfect target.  
         �Ooooh, Polly, how indecent you are!  Let me cover you up a little,� I 
offered.
         �Noooo,� Polly whined, but I squirted her nonetheless.  Icing-like the 
whipped cream spritzed into the hairs of her pubic mound.  Then, coating 
her thoroughly there, I moved down, parted her legs and squirted her cunny 
lips and then continued my line back until it met up with the line of cream 
I�d drawn down her buttcrack.  I did not bother to give her cream bikini 
drawstrings.  
         �Now for your nipples,� I said.  I stood and placed the nozzle of the 
whipped cream close to her nearest tit.  She was trembling.  I had to cup 
her breast from beneath to hold her wobbling tittie.  Then I squirted her 
nipple, as she gritted her teeth against the cold of the refrigerated cream 
and begged me to stop.
         Next I did Polly�s other nipple.  I did not bother to give her bra cups, 
just the nipples was enough.  No decorative drawstring either.  But, 
raising my can, I traced a little cream collar round the front of her throat.  
Just above her real collar.  It looked nice.  She looked sweet.  I kissed her 
blushing cheeks and told her so.
         �Oh, can I wipe it off now?� Polly asked, stroking her tummy and 
threatening to dip it into the cream that decorated her pubis.
         �Why Polly, we just got you properly dressed for the party and you 
want to get naked already?� Rose teased.  �Be a good girl and go show off 
your cream bikini to the guests.  I wonder if you�d be allowed on a beach 
now, since we can�t see your privates anymore?  Of course, you mustn�t 
get your bikini wet.  That would truly be a no-no,� Rose laughed.  She was 
clothed in a beautiful red gown that moulded itself to her figure like a 
glove.  It was cut off at the knees, seductively showing her calves, I 
thought.  In front her gown dipped so low her nipples showed.  Just the top 
halves, the pronging tips barely below the hem.  It constricted her breasts 
a little so that her nipples� tips would stay concealed.  But I knew if she 
moved incautiously she�d find herself displaying her teats right out to the 
tips.  
         Bambi was inventive.  Having tied up Cheyenne in a breathlessly 
tight corset, she made the girl perch her bare ass on a table and she fitted 
the girl into ankle-high boots.  Then, finishing that, she did not release 
her.  Instead she made her stand and then bent her over.  Cheyenne 
grimaced as the tautly-laced corset creaked and bit into her already trim 
waistline, compressing her slim tummy even more.  When Cheyenne was 
bent double, her fingers brushing her toes, Bambi parted her legs, giving 
her a wider stance.  Cheyenne looked ready to keel over and Rose rushed to 
hold her.  She cupped her hands beneath the girl�s face and stroked her 
hair.  She watched with approval as Bambi took an oil funnel, the same 
type used in gas stations, but brand new and clean, and poked it into 
Cheyenne�s tight bottom.
         �You must experience submission, Cheyenne,� Rose said softly to the 
girl, in a reassuring voice, letting her know she approved of all the new 
tricks Bambi was thinking up.  Rose tossed her hair back over her shoulder, 
carelessly, and one of her hemmed in nipples managed to break free of her 
low cut bodice.  Cheyenne, meanwhile, had no such protection for her 
breasts.  The corset stopped short of containing them and merely pushed 
them upward, so that they could be used as wiggling nude platforms for 
fruit.
         Polly stood beside me, a hand on my shoulder, a finger in her mouth.  
She sucked on it speculatively, watching, as I did, as Bambi took a small 
bottle of liquor and popped its cork.  Carefully Bambi took hold of the oil 
funnel which, in the interim, Rose had been holding in place.  Its neck was 
most indelicately stuck within Cheyenne�s butthole.  The girl shivered, 
waiting, first while the cork on the liquor was popped and then as Bambi 
took back possession of the funnel.  Now all of us watched as Bambi 
slowly began pouring the liquor into Cheyenne�s ass.
         GLUG GLUG GLUG could be heard in the room.  The guests had ceased 
eating.  We all watched with fascinated eyes.  Cheyenne gasped as she felt 
the liquor run from the funnel straight into her hiney.  
         �I-I don�t want tooo,� Cheyenne offered, but her protest was ignored 
as more liquor gurgled its way down the oil funnel and into her upthrust 
tushy.  Cheyenne�s eyes widened, glazed, widened again.  I know she must 
have been feeling the effects of the liquor as it communicated its potency 
through the walls of her rectum and up to her head.  The fluid remained in 
her bowels, like liquor in the tummy, but the effects of it could be felt in 
her brain.  
         �Alright, now stand up,� Bambi ordered when the bottle was empty.  
Cheyenne stood.  She wobbled a bit on her feet but then came to herself.  
She was a little drunk, but still quite aware that she was nude, in just a 
corset and booties, in a roomful of strangers.  Rose took fruit from the 
table and, with Bambi�s help, the two of them sprinkled it over Cheyenne�s 
breasts.  Meanwhile, the girl was jamming her asscheeks together, 
striving her best to contain the fluid in her bowels.  As soon as Rose and 
Bambi were done decorating her they launched her into the crowd.
         �Go, serve them, but don�t lose your enema,� Rose and Bambi told 
poor Cheyenne.  In the back of the room more guests entered, seated 
themselves, and Cheyenne walked with wavering half-steps toward them.  
So far she was keeping her enema inside her.  I crossed my fingers and 
prayed for her.  How embarrassing it would be for her to spill it right out 
there amidst all the new diners.  
         �Now for Polly,� Rose said.
         �Oh, pwease!� Polly begged.  But I pushed her over to them and they 
upended her just as ruthlessly.  Her jamming asscheeks were pried apart.  
Rose handed Bambi a small china plate piled high with slit grapes and 
chocolate bon bons and pitted cherries.
         �Help me, Fleury,� Bambi told me.  Unsure of my own fate, I squatted 
behind Polly and took hold of her asscheeks and pulled them wide apart to 
allow Bambi to stuff her butthole with the fruit.  
         �You�ll make a most scrumptious dessert,� Rose assured Polly.  The 
girl shuddered and sighed but, curiously, did not fight us.  I think we were 
all excited by the prospect of intermingling with all the handsome men in 
the crowd.  They wore dark suits and ate with beautiful women beside 
them, yet their eyes were upon us mostly, absorbing our every movement, 
unsure when or if they�d get another chance to see such young females 
being put through such horrid ordeals.
         Cheyenne gave a heart rending cry as a woman she presented her 
breastful of fruit to chose to tickle her cunny as she mouthed fruit from 
her tits.  
         �I can�t hold it if you do that, ma�am!� Cheyenne begged.  She was 
standing with her legs apart, but her ass jammed together in back, 
desperately trying to hold in her enema.  She wanted to cross her legs but 
that was, of course, quite forbidden.  At the castle one of the first rules 
we�d been taught was to never cross our legs.  Cheyenne screamed a little 
scream as the women kept on tickling her.  The woman cared not the least 
about Cheyenne.  She simply wished to entertain herself.
         As I watched, my bed mate found herself unable to hold in her liquor 
under the relentless assault.  There was a sudden cry of surrender from 
her.  Shivering right down her spine to her toes, her ass cheeks tremored 
and released their load.  A shower of shit-colored liquor burst from 
Cheyenne�s hiney and spilled all down the backs of her thighs and into her 
boots.
         �Noooo,� Cheyenne cried out remorsefully, for she and I had spent so 
much time getting ready upstairs, doing each other�s makeup, hair, 
carefully making ourselves perfect, and now she was spoilt, nothing but a 
girl with diarrhea.
         �How unpleasant,� the woman who�d been tickling her sniffed.  �Go 
serve the others.�  Cheyenne walked miserably to the other guests and let 
them mouth fruit from her breasts in turn.  When she reached the last one, 
a woman, the lady took her over her knee and began slapping her bare ass 
with her hand, which was gloved in kid leather.  Cheyenne, formerly just 
runny at her rear, was now forced to offer up tears as well.
         Shivering at her fate, listening as she bawled, I turned my eyes back 
to Polly�s bottom.  Bambi was busily filling it up with all the fruit on the 
tray.
         �Oh, it�s too much!  It�s going too far up!� Polly whined.
         �Be still, Polly!� Rose ordered.  The girl waved her bottom about but 
I kept a firm grip on it and kept her cheeks apart.  She was not as 
resistant as in the past.  I think the castle was slowly breaking her in, 
changing her from a little crybaby into a woman.  Bambi pushed fruit after 
fruit through her layer and cream and into her hole.  There was a little gap 
in my handiwork now, where I�d squirted her buttcrack with the cream.  
Like a chipmunk storing food away for the winter, Bambi relentlessly kept 
plugging Polly�s bottom with more and more fruit.  And the bon-bons also, 
which had gone up first because they would melt within her body, while 
the fruit would have to be removed by human intervention, unless we were 
simply willing to wait for Polly�s next poop, which I knew we were not.
         When Polly was quite full behind, Rose stood her up.  She turned the 
girl around.  I was told to pull Polly�s thighs apart in front and I obeyed.  
Rose handed Bambi a long banana.  Polly watched wide-eyed, me keeping 
her legs open, as Bambi peeled the banana.  Then Bambi bent down and 
intruded it into Polly�s pussy.
         �Oh, I can�t TAKE anymore!� Polly hollered, for she was already quite 
full in back and the banana would plug her quite completely, filling her up 
for dessert-time.
         �You must, Polly,� Rose replied.  She gripped the girl�s bare 
shoulders and made her watch as Bambi eased the banana up her, going 
slowly so as not to hurt her.  It possessed an exemplary length.  Polly 
would be well-fucked, by nature, if Bambi succeeded in getting all of the 
banana up her.  
         As it turned out, most of the banana made it inside.  But a little 
protruded out, its white tip looking like a little penis.  Polly touched it.
         �I have a penis!� Polly said.
         �So you do,� Rose laughed.  �I wish I had one, even a little banana one 
like you do,� Rose admitted.  She looked at me.  I remembered our 
conversation in the bedroom.  I smiled.  I let go of Polly�s legs.
         �Go show off your new penis, Polly,� Rose told the girl.  She pushed 
her toward the guests.  They watched, bemused, as this slip of a girl, just 
13, came tip-toeing toward them, her feet bare, wearing a seductive 
cream bikini.  In front, she offered them a boyish view of a banana cock, 
while in back she had to keep her asscheeks together lest the fruit stuffed 
into her begin popping out.
         �Mmm, let me lick your little penis,� a woman said to Polly.  She 
reached out and grasped the girl by her hips.  She drew Polly toward her.  
Bending her face down, she tongued Polly�s banana just as she would a 
cock.  A little boy�s cock it would have to have been, for Polly showed only 
the tip of the banana, the rest jammed up inside her.
         �Ohhhh,� Polly moaned.  I thought it must have been exquisite for her 
to be presented this way.  The woman�s tongue, confining itself to her 
banana, did not touch her directly.  Polly sleeked a hand across her tummy 
and I knew she wanted to touch herself.  But she did not.  She let the 
woman lick her banana, the husband watching, other guests eyeing her 
from all around, savoring their dessert, waiting politely for their turn at 
her.
         Cheyenne howled and was let up by the woman who�d been paddling 
her fanny.  She stood sobbing, holding her asscheeks with her hands, and 
the woman reproved her for making a mess of herself.
         �Oh, I�m sorry!� Cheyenne moaned, but of course it wasn�t her fault, 
even though the woman told her it was.  A man took the poor girl and 
toppled her over his knees and began spanking her.
         �Boo!  Hoo!  Hoo!� Cheyenne cried, but there was no stopping her 
spanking.  How rude to spank her again, I thought, but Rose took hold of me 
and turned me toward her.  I drew in my breath expectantly and felt my 
bosoms rise on my chest.
         �Oh, please don�t make me do this,� I pleaded.
         �Shush, dear, it is nothing.  A little playing, that�s all,� Rose replied.  
She squirted my nipples with chocolate syrup.  All the work I�d done 
upstairs to make myself look my best, and now I was being used as a scoop 
of ice cream might be, my breasts decorated with syrup that made me 
instantly, if seductively, messy.
         Rose squirted chocolate syrup into my navel.  I giggled.  Then she 
lowered her bottle to my pussy.  She looked at my eyes.
         �Ready?� she asked, standing before me, I her disciple. 
         �No, but--� I began.  Smiling, I looked down and watched with 
bashful eyes as she squirted chocolate syrup right into my pretty nest.  
�Oh!� I exclaimed.  How naughty I felt.  How my mother would disapprove!  
Rose decorated me like one might a cake, making my nest all chocolaty and 
then moving down to do the same to my cunt.
         �Now, turn around,� she told me.
         �Oh, Rose!  You must NOT!� I giggled, almost beside myself at the 
prospect of what she was going to do to me.  Yet I let her, with the help of 
Bambi, turn me around.  Bambi bent me forward a little so that I presented 
Rose with my ass.
         �Many call it the �chocolate chute,� so...� Rose said.  She let her voice 
trail off as she poked the tip of the syrup bottle into my hineyhole.  
         �Oh please Rose, not back there,� I asked one last time, but in 
answer I felt my guts get a jet of chocolate right up them.  Rose laughed.  
The crowd, watching, laughed.  Rose squeezed the bottle again and more 
chocolate jetted up my ass.  I heard a man smack his lips.  Either what he 
was eating was very good, or he was anticipating me.  It was the latter, I 
knew.  In the distance Cheyenne howled.  There was no stopping her 
spankings.  Each diner seemed to want to have a crack at her now.  I 
guessed she�d not be sitting at dinner, that was for sure, whenever we 
finally got to eat, instead of just being eaten.  Polly, I saw, turning my 
head, was having her banana cock nibbled away.  There was nothing left 
but her slit now, the extruded portion of banana was gone, eaten up.  
Inside, though, I knew she carried the remainder, and now the guests 
would begin the more invasive job of mouthing that out of her.
         �There!  You�re a chocolate bunny!� Rose said.  She was finished 
shooting up my bottomhole with syrup.  I felt quite full in back.  
Mercilessly she pushed me toward the crowd.  My turn.  Where were Louis 
and Andre?  I could not find them.  I was alone, with only Rose to protect 
me, but she had just violated me.  Polly whined as a hungry woman gnawed 
at her pussy.  I heard a little grape pop out of her and bounce off the tiled 
floor.           
         I wandered up to the first guest.  �Do you like chocolate?� I asked 
her.  Her husband grinned and she let him have me.  He turned me around 
and bent me over and stuck his tongue rudely into my hiney.
         �Oh, sir!  You DO like chocolate!� I cried.  For answer he raped me 
with his tongue.
         When we were quite despoiled, and all our fruit and cream and syrup 
dug and licked out of us, were were put side-by-side on a table.  Our backs 
were laid on the tablecloth, with linen napkins piled under our heads to 
give us a little comfort.  But our hips were left to dangle off the table.  
Each man who wished to was fitted with a condom and brought to stand 
between our legs and fuck us.  As we were fucked, Rose fed us our dinner.  
Baby food, so that in our crying and gasping we would not choke on our 
food as the men fucked us.  Then we were taken upstairs, bathed, and put 
to bed, all three of us in my room.  As I drifted off into an exhausted sleep 
I could hear the party continuing downstairs.  I think Louis and Andre 
entered then, and were the delight of the dinner�s wee hours.  They 
demonstrated their manly spirit upon the women, their husbands being all 
spent, just watching, as bull-like Louis and Andre fucked each of the 
women in the room.  Their cries and moans emanated upstairs, putting me 
to sleep.
         In the morning I was the first to awaken.  I slipped into my bathroom 
and freshened myself.  As I returned to my bed I found Cheyenne and Polly 
waking up.  Polly scooted herself off my bed as soon as she was conscious 
and ran to the bathroom, like a little girl, to pee.  Cheyenne, a bit older, 
smiled at me, and excused herself.  When Polly was done peeing I heard 
Cheyenne remind her to flush the toilet.  Then Cheyenne took her turn upon 
it.
         As the girls freshened themselves I looked with renewed interest at 
the pole behind my bed.  I got on my bed and, kneeling at the headboard, I 
unhooked it from the wall.  I lifted its heavy length and locked it into 
place.  Then I stood up.  I put my mouth to the soft rubber ball that angled 
up from it, mounted on a second post.  I felt the ball fill my mouth.  I 
pressed my face hard against it, so that I could hardly breathe.  I 
concentrated on inhaling through my nostrils and, at the same time, I 
reached behind myself and opened the cheeks of my bottom.
         I hand at the canopy of my bed.  Turning my head, I thought it was 
just Cheyenne, or Polly.  To my heartbeating surprise, I saw it was Louis!  
He put a finger to my back and ran it down my spine.  He continued on to 
my bottom.  He poked inbetween my cleft cheeks and touched my hole.
         �I hear you got quite a licking back here last night,� Louis said to 
me.
         �Yeth,� I mouthed over the ball.  He lifted my arms up.  He locked 
them to the back of my collar.  He fastened my collar to the front of the 
post.  He positioned my legs wider apart on the bed.  My bare feet planted 
themselves firmly and I waited while he undid his trousers, freeing his 
cock, then his belt.
         Polly interrupted us.  With a finger at her lips she asked, with 
inquiring eyes, �Oh, Fleury!  What are you doing?  I thought you were going 
to come play with us in the tub!�
         I heard Cheyenne drawing the bath water.
         �In a minute,� I said.  I watched as Louis doubled his belt.
         �Go take your bath,� Louis told Polly.
         �Yes, sir,� Polly gulped.  And she saluted him, dear girl.  Then she 
scurried out of sight.
         I tensed my cheeks.  They felt so cool and white and normal in the 
morning air.  Did I really want Louis to turn them into a ball of flame?  I 
don�t know.  I watched with my eyes as his tantalizing cock swayed out of 
view as he got up on the bed behind me.  I could not see him now.  I 
switched my eyes to a mirror, placed strategically so a girl could watch 
her tormenter and learn to love him.  Louis� cock dangled from his loins 
like a snake poised to strike.  He ran his fingers across his cock and then 
over his doubled-up belt.  I think we were both tense now, he and I.  His 
erection showed no sign of abating until a female had been sacrificed to 
it.  And I wished for no other to take my place.  If he needed me, I would be 
there for him.  I curved my back inward, letting my bottomcheeks hang 
more impudently, more seductively.  Saucily I wiggled my tail.  I was glad 
my hands were locked behind me.  As I saw him raise his belt I know I 
would have covered myself in back.  I was glad my mouth was plugged.  I 
could not have kept from crying out for him to spare me.
         �Louis, Fleury dear,� Rose interrupted suddenly.  Where had she come 
from?  She should not be here.  This was our private moment together.  She 
put her head through the bed�s canopy and stayed Louis�s hand just as it 
was about to come swooping down most mercilessly on my bottom.  
�Louis, there�s a young lady here to see you,� Rose told him.  She spoke 
with amusement in her voice, as if enjoying interrupting us.
         �Damn,� Louis swore.  �I�d forgotten.�  He dropped his belt uselessly 
on the bed.  He leaned forward, kissed my nearest shoulder, as if I were 
just his niece, he my uncle.  Or worse, as if he were my father, and I his 
daughter.  Two souls who could never reach out and enjoy each other in the 
intimate way lovers do.  �I�ll be back in the morning,� he told me.  Then he 
stuffed himself back into his pants, somehow, and looped his belt back 
into his pants.  He left.  Delicately Rose undid me from the post.  I felt 
empty, somehow, as I slumped down onto the sheets of the bed.
         �Go take your bath, dear,� Rose said consolingly to me.  I got up and 
walked in my nudity to the bathroom.  Going inside, I met Cheyenne and 
Polly.  Cheyenne was watching Polly as the blonde sailed a boat quite 
merrily through the foam laden waters.
         �Come in, Fleury!  All done?  I�m exploring SudLand!� Polly chortled.  
She seemed perfectly content with her boat.  Reluctantly I joined them.

         We spent the day sunning ourselves.  We were careful to keep our 
bottoms and tits covered to keep Rose happy.  She watched over us, me 
especially.  We played dominoes, twister, monopoly, all in the nude.  We 
swam in the pools, wearing our bikinis for that to preserve the distinction 
between our covered and uncovered places.  We ended the day sucking 
popsicles and eating an early meal.  Then we turned in, each to our own 
beds to keep us from being mischievous.
         �Get up!� Rose urged me the following morning.  I was not permitted 
to bathe, but there was no real need for it.  I�d taken a bath the night 
before, was still feeling fresh.  She did up my hair with pins so that I 
wore it in a loose coiffure.  Then she brought me downstairs.
         Out back in the sunroom Polly and Cheyenne were busy tugging on 
thick socks and leather hiking shoes.  I was made to sit down on a step 
with them and do the same.  When we each stood, we were made to put on 
backpacks.  We wore nothing else.
         �I feel like a pack horse,� I said, struggling into my backpack.
         �Andre and Louis are taking us hiking!� Polly said gleefully.
         �Louis?  Is he back?� Rose nodded.  I smiled.
         �What�s in this thing?� Cheyenne asked.  Her backpack was 
especially bulky.  Her bosoms were squished a little by its padded straps.
         �Yours is an insulated cooler, carrying three bottles of wine, plus 
glasses, two of them, for Louis and Andre,� Rose told her.
         �What will I drink out of, then?� Cheyenne asked, squeezing her 
bottom cheeks as she contemplated an opening in herself that she did not 
want to use for drinking.
         �Why, you�ll just have to share with the men, if they let you,� Rose 
replied.  If they let us?  I wondered at that.  I looked down at my shoes and 
felt I might, indeed, be just a pack horse.  
         �What�s in mine?� I asked.  I gripped the straps and squared the 
weight against myself to carry it better.
         �Pillows for the men to sit on, a tablecloth, two sandwiches I 
packed for them, plus some fruit,� Rose told me.
         �How about mine?� Polly chirped.  She looked like she expected to be 
told hers carried toys.  It did, of a sort, but not the kind she was thinking 
of.  No colored chalk, or bathtub boast.
         �Whips,� Rose answered.  She turned her head.  Louis and Andre, clad 
in hunter�s gear, but carrying nothing, came into the sunroom.
         �Alright, I see the girls are ready,� Andre grinned.
         �Let�s go, girls, I�m hungry!� Louis said, and walked past us, as if we 
were indeed horses, albeit pretty ones.  Shouldering our backpacks, we 
followed them.  We stepped out into the open air and felt the breeze upon 
our faces.  And our tushies.  We were totally nude, we three girls, except 
for our hiking shoes.  
         �Have fun, and don�t worry about screaming, girls,� Rose called after 
us from the sunroom.  �They�ll take you where no one can hear!�
         With that send-off we walked most apprehensively behind Louis and 
Andre.  They led us out into the fields, past the worker�s huts, on toward a 
distant mountain.  I saw a jeep waiting at the end of the field.  Louis and 
Andre put us into it.  We were allowed to take off our backpacks and throw 
them in back.  Then we got into the backseat and strapped ourselves in.  
The seat was leather.  We were offered nothing to sit on except the bare 
seat itself.  The men strapped us in with seatbelts so that we wouldn�t 
fall out.  Then, getting in front, they drove off with us jostling in the back.
         We drove up the mountain.  It was a jaunty, butt-thumping ride that 
took little cognizance of the fact that Cheyenne and Polly and I were girls.  
We drove through indian villages, our breasts showing, bouncing 
helplessly, as natives came outdoors and grinned at our passing.  Did they 
practise the same ritual, taking their girls into the mountains?
         When Louis finally stopped the jeep we got out.  He and Andre made 
us reshoulder our backpacks.  Then, forcing us to lead the way up a small 
dirt path, they followed.  They admired our bottoms as we walked.  We 
were feeling a bit more like pack horses with every step, clad only in our 
shoes, as if shoed like horses, carrying loads not intended for our 
amusement but only for that of our masters.  Cheyenne and Polly and I 
huffed and puffed under our loads, climbing steadily, while the men behind 
us carried nothing.  My breasts swung beneath me.  I wished for a bra but 
had none.  I wished for panties to keep the men�s leering eyes off my 
bottom but, out here, the nearest pair of panties must have been 50 miles 
away.
         The mountain was bare.  There were only rocks and crags, plus fields 
of daisies, all bright and glowing under the warm summer sun.  I felt 
bereft, though, carrying so much weight.  Was this, I wondered, what it 
felt like to be pregnant?  Obviously the weight would be in my tummy 
when I was with child but, nonetheless, I�d be carrying my husband�s 
future child, bearing up under the strain, while he, naturally, carried 
nothing heavier than his own erection.
         We walked higher into the rocky waste.  The wind was mercifully 
quiet.  It was as if God had set aside this special day for us and, knowing 
what Polly was forced to carry in her pack, he had calmed the winds to 
give us respite from them at least.  I thought of horses out West, in 
America, with the men walking behind them, wondering at their asses, 
wondering if they might, just might...
         I could feel Louis�s eyes burning into my bottom.  It hung like a 
white cloven marshmallow above my bare tanned legs.  How close we�d 
come, yesterday, to consummating our love for each other with another 
punishment.  And now, with my bottom quite naked, and Polly loaded down 
with whips, there was no chance of me being spared again.  None of us, I 
thought, would escape down the mountain with our bottoms still white.  
         In front my snowy tits jangled in their fullness beneath me.  I panted 
and hefted my backpack higher on my back.
         �Here,� Louis said.  He pointed to a small grassy clearing amidst the 
daisies.  There was a sturdy log in the middle of the clearing.  I wondered 
at it, bit my lip.
         We were led to the clearing and allowed to put down our packs.  
Their packs, for their contents were picked by Louis and Andre, and 
brought for their own pleasure.  The men made us squat and undo the packs 
and lay out their contents.  Cheyenne and I unfurled a tablecloth for the 
men to sit on.  Three pillows were drawn from my pack, and placed, at the 
men�s orders, atop the log, in a neat row that boded ill for our bottoms.  
The men sat down on the blanket and had us girls sit amongst them.  Polly 
with fear in her eyes, was made to arrange all the whips from her pack in 
a neat row on the blanket.  They were awful, absolutely the worst.  
Rattans braised in a fire to make their tips hard and tough.  A cat with 
jewels worked into the ends of each of its tails, glittering, beautiful, but 
promising to flay a girl alive if its beauty was used on her.  A pony whip, 
used to drive horses, brought out and laid with care amongst the other 
whips despite our obedience.
         �Oh, I don�t wish to be whipped!� Polly moaned.  
         �Then drink.  It�s why we brought the wine,� Louis told her.  He made 
her take a sip from his glass.  Cheyenne, who had never been touched by a 
whip, sat with frightened eyes looking at the implements, with her palms 
firmly beneath her seat, afraid to let it touch even the blanket, lest she 
somehow be harmed by it.
         I tried to be brave.  Yes, we were alone.  Yes, no one could possibly 
come to our aid.  But Louis and Andre were our favorite guys.  Surely they 
would not harm us.  What, though, had Louis been called away for, 
yesterday?  Did he still love me?  Did he--my breath caught in my throat-
-did he need to dispose of me?  High on this mountaintop no one would 
know if he did.  Only the natives, and they did not share the mountain�s 
secrets with outsiders.  Only with Rose perhaps, but she never asked, 
merely paid them to use the mountain sometimes, for her own purposes.  
As today, paying to let Louis and Andre drive myself and Polly and 
Cheyenne up here.  Did the natives use this same clearing for their girls?  
I thought the grass was especially lush here.  Surely daisies might have 
grown here, yet they did not.  Someone had kept them back, to allow the 
grass to grow.  And that log.  Had it not seemed a little worn, where we�d 
placed our pillows.  Three little depressions, worn, perhaps, into the wood 
by struggling Indian girls who had only woven blankets underneath their 
tummies?  We were special.  We had pillows, gleaming whitely in their 
pillow cases.  Yet our fate, I guessed, would be no different from that of 
the Indian girls.
         Clutching our bottoms, we each took sips from Louis�s or Andre�s 
wine goblets.  Little was said, save for the occasional simperings of Polly.  
But even she seemed to accept her fate, finally.  The sun shown down as 
the men ate their sandwiches, offering us none, admiring our bare brown-
limbed bodies.  Polly asked to pee and they led her to the edge of the 
clearing and squatted down and relieved herself in the lush grass.  I took 
the same opportunity.  There was no fighting it.  Once put over the logs, 
we might be kept there for hours.  Cheyenne went after me.  
         �It is time,� Louis said, after we were done and we�d wiped 
ourselves as best we could with handkerchiefs and moist towelettes.  We 
were taken to the log.  Our hands were cuffed in front of us, to keep them 
away from our bottoms, though we might frig ourselves, if we wished.  
Louis and Andre told us we could if we needed to.  It would make it easier 
for us, they said.  Then Cheyenne, and Polly and I, their faithful pack 
horses, were made to kneel in front of the log, as if to receive communion 
before it.  They did not serve us wafers and wine, though, but instead bent 
us over it.  I felt the softness of the pillow receive my tummy.  I felt my 
head pressed down on the far side of the log until my cheek met the lush 
grass.
         �Oh, please don�t, Louis,� I begged.
         �Spread your legs,� was all he said in reply.  His hands came 
between my thighs and opened them.  I felt the sun on my hiney.  How 
carefully I�d protected it from the sun�s rays, yet now here I was, white-
bottomed, with nothing covering me.  And Rose would not disapprove now, 
would she?  No.  Nothing must come between a girl�s bottom and the whip. 
         Polly whimpered.
         �I�m not going to give you a gag,� Louis told her.  I want to hear you 
scream.  Scream as much as you like.  
         �I have to... I have to go to the bathroom again,� Polly claimed.  The 
men fixed leather straps into the wood and bound them over the small of 
our backs.  We were truly imprisoned now.  
         �You don�t have to go to the bathroom, Polly, you�re just saying 
that,� Cheyenne scolded.  Perhaps she was trying to distract herself from 
the inevitable.  Her voice was shaky, unsure, but she scolded Polly anyway.
         �I do too!  Very badly,� Polly said, but immediately began crying in 
soft sobs of fear.
         �Then just hold it,� Cheyenne snapped, almost on the verge of tears 
herself.  We had been so good, and now the men were fixing to treat us 
horribly!
         Not content with bolting us down to the logs, or tying our hands, the 
men next fixed spreader bars to our ankle straps.  They used these poles 
between our legs to keep them wide apart.  I had one between my legs, a 
good three-footer, spreading my legs right up to my hiney, and Cheyenne 
had one, and Polly, who was now blubbering, got one also.
         �Pee right where you are if you have to, I don�t care,� Louis told 
Polly.  
         �Okay, I WILL then!� Polly declared, though her tears. 
         �Well?� Louis asked.  The girl�s bottom shivered but she delivered no 
pee.
         �Now I don�t have to,� Polly gulped.
         �You never did,� Louis replied.  �Extra strokes for you my dear Polly, 
for being a liar!�
         �It was just a likkle fib,� Polly pleaded.  Tears rolled anew down her 
wet cheeks.
         �Bye, I love you,� Cheyenne said.  She was closest to me and she 
turned her head to me.
         �Bye bye,� I replied, shivering, for I knew we were just seconds 
away from our torment.  The men hefted their whips behind us and swung 
them into the wind and commented on the possibilities of their uses.  
Meanwhile, not to limit their enjoyment in any way, they stripped off 
their clothes and stood buck naked behind us, enjoying the sun on their 
cocks, their balls.  They were fully erect and promised to ream Polly and 
Cheyenne and I most astutely once they�d finished punishing us.
         Louis bent over me and kissed me.  I felt his dangling cock bounce off 
my heinie.
         �I love you,� he whispered to me.  �And I love your bottom.  That�s 
why I�m going to whip it.�  His finger was under my chin and I lowered my 
mouth quickly and caught it between my lips.  I sucked hard, but I did not 
bite him, I did not bite.
         Andre gave Polly her goodbye kiss.  And then they both kissed 
Cheyenne, making me feel just a tad jealous, despite my fears.
         Louis got behind me and caressed my bare fanny.  His cock bobbed 
just behind its spheres, tempted, but wishing to see me punished by the 
whip first.  After he�d touched me with his hand he picked up the 
implement he�d chosen to start off with, a soft leather whip with thin 
cords.  Deceptively he brushed it over my ass, touching me with it in soft 
warm caressing movements, as if it were a sponge instead of a whip.  
Then, abruptly, he stood.  Andre, who�d been playing with Polly�s ass, stood 
also.
         �We�ll share Cheyenne,� Louis told Andre.
         �Sounds fine with me,� Andre said.
         �Let�s see which of us can make them cry the most,� Louis 
suggested.
         �They�re already crying,� Andre replied.  And we were, though I at 
least tried my best not to.  I knew it would hurt and we would not be 
spared.
         
         When we rode through the Indian village at dusk they turned out to 
watch our jeep pass.  Louis drove slowly, as a hunter might, showing off 
his catch.  Polly, Cheyenne and I could not sit.  We were bound over the 
back seat, our asses high, still frigging ourselves to try to assuage away 
the pain that they�d inflicted, Louis and Andre, high up in the mountain 
crags, amidst the daisies.  We were red-faced, sobbing.  Our tits swung 
with every movement of the jeep�s rolling wheels.  Polly gasped anew as a 
fresh orgasm seized her.  It was our only hope of relief.  Our bottoms, sore 
and ruthlessly cloven by our boyfriend�s pricks, red as the sunset, offered 
us no respite.  Only our fingers could, working constantly at our slits.  
We�d been fucked anally, not in our pussies, perhaps purposely, so we�d 
still be playing with ourselves when the jeep drove down from the 
mountain.  I knew we were making a spectacle of ourselves.  I heard an 
Indian woman laugh.  Young children giggled.  They knew we were being 
naughty.  They did not know of whips or penises but they knew girls must 
not rub themselves.  Even the littlest girls knew that.  Yet here we were, 
big girls by comparison, and we were frigging ourselves, and they could 
see by our bottoms that we�d paid for our naughtiness.  What they did not 
know was that we had not frigged ourselves and then been punished for it.  
We�d been punished, despite our goodness, erotically punished, and we�d 
had to frig ourselves as our only hope of taking our minds off our bottoms.
         Rose received us back at the castle with hugs and kisses.  We were 
bathed and put to bed, all in my room, so we could console each other.  The 
men had not bothered to put salve on our bottoms but Rose did, after our 
bath.  
         �Stop playing with yourselves, girls.  It�s over,� Rose told us before 
turning out our light.  Then she clicked it off, shut the door, and we cried 
ourselves to sleep.  Downstairs, Louis and Andre smoked cigars and 
regaled Rose with our torments.  I heard her tinkling laughter through the 
open window, Louis�s gruff descriptions.  I could not hear his precise 
words but there was no question he and Andre were telling her about their 
day.  
         In my dreams, after I�d fallen asleep, I saw Rose make love to Louis 
and Andre, and I know my dreams were true.

         �Such bad little girls!� Rose scolded, waking us at first light.  I was 
hungry.  I�d not eaten all the previous day, and had quite forgotten about it, 
after my spanking up in the mountains.  She served us breakfast in bed.  We 
ate like spoilt children, the three of us all in a row.  Our covers were 
pulled up to just below our breasts, letting our nipples show quite 
naughtily, but we revelled in the naughtiness, not caring, and Rose did not 
mind either.  She left her own breasts bare so that we would feel more 
comfortable in her presence.  We were all females.  We ate with our 
fingers and she helped us drink our cocoa, lifting our heads for us so that 
we would not spill it on ourselves.
         As I sipped my cocoa, feeling so special and cared for, I felt my 
bottom against the smooth white sheet.  Just the pressing of the sheet 
against it made me wince a little.  I heard Polly whimper as she shifted 
within the bed to better accept her cocoa.  And Cheyenne, our newest 
friend, mewled out a sulky little whine.  
         �My, such pampered little girls,� Rose chided.  She wiped my chin 
with a napkin.  I�d let a little of the cocoa escape my lips.  �You receive a 
nice punishment and all you can think to do it whine about it.�  Polly, 
despite her bottom, eagerly opened her mouth and vied, like a little kitten, 
for a sip from my cup.  Rose gave her a taste and Polly greedily drank down 
the rest of my portion.
         We were not harmed.  No, just reminded every moment of how our 
bottoms had been treated.  Whipped, with all manner of implements, all of 
them carried aloft into the mountains by poor Polly, the littlest of us.
         As unnecessary and unpleasant as our whipping had been, the ride 
home had been even worse.  Sitting was, of course, out of the question.  
Even we knew that.  So the men had simply dumped us over the back seat 
of their jeep and strapped us down to it.  Fortunately, perhaps to show 
they were not utter brutes, one of them went to the trouble of uncovering 
a coil of soft rope.  He�d rummaged around in the jeep until he�d found it.  I 
didn�t see who.  I was too busy crying. 
         Our upper thighs had rested against the seat back, not our hips.  This 
was to permit our hands to freely frig ourselves.  It was a necessity.  I 
don�t think I could have borne the ride back if it weren�t for my busy 
fingers.  Even hiking down the mountain, forced to carry the very packs 
that had precipitated our distress, we had to play with ourselves.  All 
three of us, myself, Cheyenne, and Polly, had traipsed down the 
mountainside with at least one hand busily fondling our slit.  Meanwhile, 
the men followed, leering at our bottoms.  Their loins were utterly 
satisfied.  They had pried their way into our clenching bottomholes with 
their �meat-packer pricks,� as they called them, and it was hardly a wrong 
name for them for I felt more stuffed than a Christmas turkey when Louis, 
who had to work at me for quite some time, finally got his awful Thing up 
me.  I could not relax with the severity of the strapping he�d given me.  
He�d had to fight his way into my nether hole, while I screamed and kept 
gyrating my bottom and clenching and squeezing it, trying to throw off the 
scalding burns from the strap.  
         The air, passing over our upraised tushies on the ride back down, had 
proven a welcome relief.  I remember wiggling my ass at the sun, not 
caring if it tanned me, hoping to somehow cool down my bottom in the 
wind.  
         The men deposited our backpacks in the small bed at the back of the 
jeep.  My chin bounced on my backpack as they drove us home.  To the 
castle.  It was our home now.  
         �It hoits!� Polly had sobbed to me as the sun set.  
         �Keep rubbing!� I�d shouted back to her between my own sobs.  A 
moment later she�d crooned into orgasm.  The wind blew through our hair, 
streaming it out beyond our faces.  Our backs flexed as we worked 
ourselves into orgasm after orgasm.  We were very wet girls by the time 
we got back to the castle.
         �There.  Breakfast�s all done,� Rose announced a little later.  She 
laid down her knife and fork.  We�d all eaten from the same silverware.  It 
was easier that way.  Polly smacked her lips.
         �Mmmm!  I liked my eggs,� she declared.
         �Let�s just hope the eggs in your womb don�t like all the sperm 
that�s been pumped into you,� Rose replied.  �I haven�t been keeping up on 
your pills like I should have.�
         �It�s okay.  I was fucked up the butt yesterday,� Polly replied.  She 
spoke quite frankly, as if telling teacher she�d caught a frog in her palm, 
or memorized her multiplication tables.
         �And how was it, darling?� Rose asked, caressing Polly�s face.  The 
girl looked down.  Her eyes gazed at her nipples.  I watched as the tips 
hardened.  
         �It was...bigggg,� Polly answered.
         �Andre fucked you?� Rose asked.
         �Mmm hmm,� Polly nodded.  She bobbed her chin.  �He was weally big 
but I just kept bearing down, like he told me, opening my bottomcheeks as 
much as I could.  Except, it was hard to breathe �cause his penis actually 
pushed the air right out of me!� Polly exclaimed.
         �It always feels that way when a man fucks you, up the bottom I 
mean,� Rose said.  She stroked Polly�s blonde hair.  She lifted a strand to 
get it out of Polly�s eyes.  �You�ll get used to it, darling.  And as for you, 
Fleury,� she said.  Her eyes met mine even as she continued playing with 
Polly�s hair.  �Louis wants you put into a butt-harness.  You know, the 
little item I told you about earlier.  You�ll wear it all day from now on at 
the castle.  He insists he wants you more accessible.�
         I bit my lip.  I did not want to be... altered.  Rose knew my 
apprehension and, as if to console me, she slid a finger into my mouth.  I 
bit down on it.  I sucked it and looked up at her with wide eyes.
         �Some men wish to have their girls made more receptive, using such 
a device,� she explained simply.  I was aware of Cheyenne, next to me, 
swallowing.  Her throat was dry.  Our cups were empty.  She was 
swallowing fear.  Polly said nothing.  She listened, watching the tips of 
her nipples.  She knew no such device was intended for her.  Andre liked 
her just as she was.  
         We bathed and tidied up in the bathroom.  Then Rose took us 
downstairs to show our bottoms to the men.
         Trooping into the parlor, I was amazed to see we were not alone.  
Rose had preceded us by a few minutes.  She sat interviewing a young 
mother and her husband.  With them were their two daughters.  They were 
moppets, kindergarten-age, squirming in their seats and oblivious to what 
their mother and father were discussing.
         �I�ll want daycare for the children,� I heard the mother�s voice say.  
She turned and saw us.  Polly, myself, and Cheyenne were utterly nude.  
Louis and Andre were seated on the sofa in their tuxes and we marched up 
to them and turned around.
         �Oooh, they�re naked!� one of the woman�s moppets exclaimed.
         �They�ve been bad, girls,� their father told them.  Their mother 
would have shushed them, I think, but her face was ashen and she was 
sitting very stiffly beside her husband.
         �We have nursery facilities on the premises,� Rose said to the young 
mother.  She was writing on a pad.  �So you�ve not had enjoyable sex since 
the birth of the twins?� 
         �No,� the father of the moppets answered.
         �It happens sometimes.  A female gets pregnant, becomes a mother, 
and then feels the pressure of her new babies.  I�m sure it was especially 
true in your case, with twins.  But there�s no reason you can�t both resume 
an active sex life.  Sometimes the woman just needs to be reawakened.  
We have all the necessary things for that here.  As you can see, we help 
young girls get in touch with their bodies all the time here.�
         �Yes,� the young mother answered.  The father looked at us with an 
interested eye.
         I felt Louis palm my bottom.  It didn�t hurt too much, except his hand 
was calloused and their roughness made me flinch.
         �Oh!  You spanked me too HARD yesterday,� Polly told her boyfriend 
Andre.  Louis laughed.  Cheyenne stood between us, waiting her turn, just 
as she�d had to wait for her turn yesterday upon the mountain.  At least 
today the hands passing over us were consoling ones.
         �Bend down,� Louis told me.  I leaned forward and reached down and 
grasped my ankles.  He pried apart my nether cheeks and examined my hole.
         �I told her we�d begin widening it today,� Rose said to Louis.
         �Good,� he answered.  He pressed the pad of his pointing finger 
against my hineyhole.
         �I don�t want mine made bigger!� Polly said, as Andre made her bend 
over, and Cheyenne too.
         �Another year and we�ll do it, maybe,� Andre mused.  �Or perhaps I�ll 
have you branded back here.  Don�t squeeze your cheeks so.  I�m trying to 
see into your hole.�
         �I know!  That�s why I�m trying to squeeze it shut!� Polly blurted, but 
the prying of Andre�s fingers finally won out and he treated himself to a 
close examination of her.  Polly wiggled, rocking to and fro on her heels, 
an impatient child waiting to be let up.  Her breasts swung freely under 
her chest.  I wondered if we�d been ruined at all by our ride back home in 
the jeep.  Our tits had swung like fruit in a windstorm, jounced and 
jostled by the jeep.  We�d been without bras, of course.  We�d not brought 
any.  We�d ridden unprotected, despite the best efforts of our mothers to 
keep us in training bras from the minute our breasts had started growing.  
I looked at mine.  They seemed okay.  Louis reached out and passed his hand 
over my dangling nipples.  He liked them, anyway.  He plumped my breasts 
in his palms and for a moment I thought he would rise up and unzip himself 
and take me right there, in front of the two little girls.
         Perhaps he might have, but Rose uttered his name and his hands 
slipped away from my tits and he slapped my flank to make me stand up 
again.
         �You do not mind if your wife is fucked by others?� Rose asked the 
husband of the young mother matter-of-factly.
         �No,� he answered.  His eyes were on us.  Three underage girls with 
our tits wobbling and our bottoms quite well-spanked.  The twin little 
girls giggled.  One of them lifted her dress and began playing with herself.
         �Don�t,� their mother said.  She slapped away the girl�s hand.  But 
the little one went right back to frigging herself, and her sister soon 
followed.
         �No harm will come to my daughters?� the wife asked.  
         �They will be returned to you as virginal as they are now,� Rose 
smiled.  �Girls,� she said, addressing them.  �The reason the big girls 
across the room got spanked is because they played with themselves like 
you�re doing now.�
         �Ooooh!  I don�t want a spanking!� the one who had started the game 
of frigging announced.  She withdrew her hand from her panties.  Her 
sister copied her, pulling her hand up quickly and abruptly.
         �That�s better, girls,� Rose told them.  Their father nodded at them 
approvingly.  
         A young woman walked into the parlor.  It was the neatly dressed 
maid who�d attended to Polly and I on our first night.  She had on her 
traditional maid�s costume, complete with its perky white hat and apron, 
plus a skirt made of black cloth that was shorter than any maid might 
wear in ordinary employment, but not so short as to show anything if she 
was careful not to bend over.
         �Kelly, take these two to the nursery,� Rose told her.  She pointed at 
the two kindergarten girls.  �They�re frisky.  Best to put both of the them 
naked in the baby pool and give them some toys.  Is little Johnnie about?�
         �Yes�m, he�s been showing me his cock repeatedly this morning and I 
don�t know what to do!� Maria said.  There was a look of exasperation in 
her voice.
         �Well, he can go swimming with these two,� Rose said.  �They�re all 
the same age.  There should be no harm in it.�  She turned and cocked an 
eyebrow at the girls� mother.  She nodded, just a small nod, but enough to 
show her approval.
         �I played with boys when I was their age.  It was... fun,� the girls� 
mother said.  �No fucking, of course.�
         �Of course not,� Rose answered.  �I�ll make sure no perverts barge 
into their nursery.  And Kelly,� she turned her head.  �Make sure Johnnie 
doesn�t get out of hand.�
         �Yes�m.  I don�t think he knows of such things, actually,� she replied.  
�He seems not to know yet that he can diddle himself.
         �Right.  Well, these two will teach him that, I�m sure,� Rose replied.
         Kelly beckoned to the two girls and they leapt from the chair they 
were sharing.  They were eager to get out of the stuffy parlor.  Their 
mother lifted a hand to call them to kiss her goodbye.  Rose caught her 
hand, held it.  She shook her head �no.�  The girls raced from the room and 
Kelly had to run to catch them.  Her dress flipped up in back and I saw the 
girls� father gaze with interest at her pantied rear.
         �Well, let�s get started then,� Rose said to the girls� mother as soon 
as they�d left.  �Stand up and take off your clothes.�
         �My..?� the young mother protested.
         �Show me everything you�ve got, darling.  Don�t be ashamed of 
yourself.  You look to me like you�ve got a great body!  I�ll need to see your 
cunt to see what birthing those two darling girls has done to your sex.  
And your breasts, too, to see what effect nursing has had.  Precious little, 
I�ll bet.  I think most of your inhibitions are just in your mind.  But don�t 
worry, dear, we�ll rid you of those here at Cunt Castle!� She smiled as she 
spoke the name of the place.  I felt my tummy tighten and, looking at the 
mother, I know hers did.  What an awful name!  Yet the mother, with her 
husband prodding her, stood up.  She fiddled with the buttons on her blouse.
         �We�ll take her right upstairs and give her a good caning to get her 
nice and weepy,� Rose told the young mother�s husband.  �Yes, dear, 
everything.  Take your clothes right off.  You�ll be crying and moaning and 
showing us how nicely your ass wiggles in a few minutes.  Don�t be shy.  
There�s no point to it.  Here at Cunt Castle all must be seen, and 
continuously too.  You won�t have need of any clothes for days to come!�
         �Oh, I don�t want to,� the mother whined.  Her knees bent and her 
legs seemed about to collapse underneath her.  Yet, somehow, she kept her 
fingers working, and I watched as the buttons of her blouse opened, 
showing her belly and her curves. 
         Louis and Andre stared past us.  I think they were fascinated by the 
sight of this young mother shedding her purity and agreeing to be broken in 
at the castle.  Her husband developed a pronounced tent in his pants.  Polly 
and Cheyenne and I, not able to sit, stood and watched as the mother 
undressed herself.  Her blouse fell away.  She reached behind herself and 
unzipped her dress.
         �Oh, what is happening?� I heard a youthful voice cry.  My head 
snapped toward the doorway.  It was one of the twins!  Kelly appeared and 
scooped her up.
         �But what is mommie doing?� the girl asked.  
         �She�s undressing, dear,� Kelly answered.  She sounded distressed.  
         �But this isn�t our house,� the little one persisted.  I heard no more.  
Her mother, blushing, continued removing her clothes.  She reached back 
and unhooked her bra.  It popped open.  She shed it.  Her tits proved large 
and firm.  Nursing had not harmed them.  I was glad.  I wanted babies too, 
but I didn�t want to lose my figure.
         The young wife slid off her panties.  
         �Mmm, a nice bush,� Rose said.  She lifted a hand and plucked at it 
with her fingers.  �Turn around, dear.  Show me your ass.�  The young 
mother gulped and turned on her feet.  Behind her the plump fullness of her 
ass spread out before Rose�s gaze.  Motherhood had broadened her seat and 
given it a mature look.  It was quite different from Polly�s slim little ass, 
which still resembled the twins�.  
         �Oh, I should like to go swimming in a baby pool too,� Polly sighed.  
         �There is a nursery for big girls up in the attic,� Rose said, turning 
to Louis and Andre.  �Please take your young women up there.�  
         But Louis ignored Rose.  �Sir,� he said, speaking to the twins� father.  
�If I may, I would love to fuck your wife for you.�
         �Oh, Brent!  You would NEVER!� the young mother blurted.  She turned 
to her husband.
         �It would be a waste of opportunities if he didn�t,� Rose suggested 
to the father.
         �Could I ask for a trade?� the father, Brent, replied to my Louis.
         �Which do you prefer?� Louis asked.  He passed his hand in a 
sweeping gesture along the level of our bottoms.  We stood like children 
before Brent, although across the room from him.
         �I�d like all three,� Brent answered.  �My wife�s worth it.�
         �Sounds okay,� Andre nodded to Louis.  �We could both do her.�
         �Louis!� I cried.  I turned and looked at my lover.  Would he give me 
away so easily to a man we didn�t even know?
         �Agreed,� Louis said.  He stood.  He and Andre and Brent all got up 
and shook hands on the matter.
         �I�ll have you fitted into your butt belt later,� Rose reminded me.  
Was I still to be widened for Louis even though he gave me away so 
cavalierly?  I didn�t like that.  
         �Good morning girls,� Brent said.  He came up to us and eyed us like a 
farmer at an auction of domesticated animals.  He was tall and good-
looking.  But still, he was older than Louis, and did not have Louis� broad 
build.  �Let�s go up to the attic,� he said.  He gestured for us to lead the 
way to the door.  Louis and Andre, meanwhile, made the acquaintance of 
Brent�s wife.  She was as nude as ourselves now, and I guessed we�d all be 
feeling like tarts before the day was over.

         To get to the attic we found we had to climb up a ladder.  To my 
dismay, Brent stood below and watched as, one by one, Polly and Cheyenne 
and I climbed up.  Our tushies, still red from our spankings the day before, 
shimmied as we climbed.  There was nothing we could do to keep him from 
staring at the full glory of our fannys, right into our clenching cracks, 
showing our bottomholes as we lifted our legs up to the next rung.  They 
were widely spaced, as if to force us to show ourselves more freely.  Of 
course our cunts were completely at the mercy of his prying eyes.  I tried 
to cover myself with my hand but sighed aloud as I realized climbing a 
ladder one-handed, especially one with such widely spaced rungs, just 
wasn�t safe.
         Polly went up first.  Brent watched her with a father�s attentive 
eye, as if afraid she might fall.  Next Cheyenne went, and finally myself.  
There was a trap door at the top but Polly managed to lift it to let us 
through.
         �Oh, swings!� I heard Polly exclaim.  By the time I got up I found 
she�d gone to a small swingset in the attic and was pushing at a swing 
with her hands.  It was an infant swing.  It had a full seat, rising right up 
to the waist, a kind of bucket, actually, but with leg holes for the 
passenger�s legs to stick through.  And there was a third hole, between the 
twin leg holes, for something...
         Stepping closer, I saw the third hole between the leg holes wasn�t 
the only addition to the attic�s infant swings.  Down below, where our 
seats might sit, there was a hole through which some object might be 
pushed into the fanny.
         �Would you like to swing?� Brent asked Polly.
         �Oh yes, please!� Polly exclaimed.  �I like swinging.�  
         �Polly,� I cautioned.  I felt I should warn her about the extra holes.  
But before I could, Brent had lifted her up, just like one might lift up a 
baby.  Polly�s legs wiggled as he slotted her into the seat and fitted her 
legs through the swing�s leg holes.
         �Wheee!� Polly shouted.  Brent got behind her and began pushing her 
in the swing.
         �Oh, I�ll do it!� Cheyenne offered.  She seemed happy about the swing, 
as happy as Polly.  Neither of them noticed what I did.  There was a 
generous hole over Polly�s slit, through which Brent might introduce some 
unwanted object right into her.  And where her small bottom sat, there 
was a hole through which he might push himself yet again.
         When Polly had gotten her swing going nicely, Brent called Cheyenne 
and I over to him.  He sat down in a child�s chair next to a child�s table.  
Cheyenne and I took seats of our own.  They were small.  They made my 
knees stick up and my ass complained to me about their hard plastic 
surface.  Brent sat with his own legs spread out.  There was a visible 
spear growing in his crotch.  It pointed straight up with his need.
         Cheyenne looked happy.  She seemed to enjoy being with this man.  I 
was ambivalent.  It was all very well for her, perhaps, but my boyfriend 
was downstairs fucking this man�s wife!
         �You have a boner,� Cheyenne giggled.  She gazed pointedly at Brent�s 
erection.
         �When I was in nursery school we always had ice cream!� Polly 
called from her swing.  �Chocolate or vanilla.  Every day.  Whichever we 
wished!�
         Brent thought a moment, then gazed about the room.  �I want you two 
to see if Polly can have some ice cream,� he told Cheyenne and I.  �Maybe 
there�s some Kool-Aid at least.�
         �Alright,� I answered.  I saw a small refrigerator next to a set of 
toy cabinets.  I went over to them, bent, letting him see (there was 
nothing I could do otherwise) my bottom.
         �Keep your legs apart!� Brent called to me.  Ah, he knew the rules of 
the castle.  Reluctantly I widened my stance.  He looked with interest at 
my cunny, snug between my legs. 
         There was nothing in the toy cabinets except empty boxes and cans.  
I knelt and opened the fridge.  God must have blessed Polly.  There, within, 
stood two big tubs of ice cream.  They were brand new.  I lugged one out 
and called Cheyenne over.  We each brought one to the table.  I found an ice 
cream scooper in the toy cabinet.
         �There aren�t any bowls,� I lamented.
         �Catch, Polly!� Cheyenne called.  She had opened her tub of ice cream.  
It contained strawberry.  She scooped out a ball of fresh strawberry ice 
cream and flung the scoop at Polly.
         �Aaack!� Polly cried.  The ball of scooped ice cream struck her right 
between her breasts.  It slid down her tummy and nestled atop her slit.
         �Ooooh, it�s cold!� Polly lamented.  She picked up the ice cream, all 
the same, and held it to her mouth and bit into it.  �I don�t really like 
Strawberry,� she said.  
         �Then have some Vanilla!� I cried.  Getting into the spirit of things, I 
scooped up vanilla from my own tub of ice cream and tossed it at her.
         �You missed!� Polly replied.  Sitting in her swing, she looked glumly 
back at the place on the floor where my ice cream ball had landed.
         �I�ll try again,� I said.  I passed my hand over my forehead and 
scooped up another scoop.  I tossed it at her, aiming carefully.  
         �Ooooh, got it!� Polly said gleefully.  Reaching out her hands, she 
just barely managed to catch the ice cream.  She put it to her lips and 
began eating it, while the other scoop lay on her thigh.  �Ooops!� she said.  
Looking down, eating the vanilla, she saw that the strawberry scoop had 
once again rolled down onto her slit.  She picked it up, decided to try to 
hold both scoops at once.  She was beginning to look quite messy.
         �What a clever idea,� Brent mused.  He looked at Cheyenne and I.  
�You two get on either side of me and throw ice cream at each other,� he 
said.  
         I didn�t like the idea, but Cheyenne was pleasantly surprised by it.  
She plunked down her tub on Brent�s left knee, while I put my tub on his 
right.  I found another ice cream scooper for her in the cabinet.  Brent 
unzipped himself so any lost ice cream might fall on his prick.  We both 
gasped as we saw how big he was.  Not the size of Louis and Andre, but 
still a worthy member.  I felt a little better about entertaining him.
         With our hair loose about our shoulders, our makeup still perfect 
from our morning toilet, Cheyenne and I got on either side of Brent.  We 
eyed each other.  
         �Who�s first?� I asked Cheyenne.
         �I don�t know.  I guess I can go first,� she replied.  �Say something 
insulting to me.�
         �You�re a slut,� I told her.
         �Okay, now hold still while I throw my ice cream at you,� she said.  
Brent waited, watching us both, stroking his prick.  Cheyenne stuck her 
tongue out the corner of her mouth and scooped up a big scoop of ice cream 
from her tub.  Then she gazed at me, while I stood across from her with 
my hands on my hips.
         �You�re a slut and a lousy shot,� I told her.  �And don�t get any in my 
hair.�
         �Your hair on your head or your muff?� Cheyenne asked, and she 
launched her scoop right at my private.
         �Yikes!� I exclaimed.  I watched as her scoop flew across and landed 
right where she�d aimed it.  I found myself looking at a big ball of ice 
cream right on my delta.  Slowly it slid off and plopped like a turd to the 
floor.  Behind it left a runny smear of strawberry in my pubic hair.
         �Alright, my turn, wise ass,� I told her.  In answer, Cheyenne turned 
around and happily mooned me.
         �Some ice cream would feel good on my bottom!� Cheyenne said 
invitingly.
         �Okay, you�re going to get it, then,� I answered.  I tossed well, but 
she flinched at the last moment.
         �No fair!  You have to stand still,� I told her.
         �Rats,� Cheyenne said.  �I didn�t mean to.  It just happened.�  She 
resumed her salacious pose.
         �I want to play too!� Polly cried.  But she was stuck in her swing.  
She could not get out of it without someone lifting her out.
         Cheyenne and Brent and I ignored her.  I wanted to have my second 
shot.  I scooped, aimed again, and plopped my ball of ice cream right on 
Cheyenne�s left cheek.
         �Oooch!  That�s cold!� Cheyenne shivered.  The ice cream fell to the 
floor, leaving a smear in its wake that was white.
         �At least this way you�ll get a white bottom,� I told her.
         �My turn!� she replied.  She made me stand still and we continued 
like this, back and forth, until we were both covered with splats of ice 
cream.  Twice we hit each other on the boobs, and once I struck her in the 
face, not meaning too, but aiming too high for her tits.  Polly bleated all 
the while that she wanted to join us.  Finally we bombed her with ice 
cream, just to make sure she was as messy as we were.  She almost cried, 
but held back her tears, knowing it was just in fun.  Brent rubbed himself 
the entire time.  I feared he might cum but I didn�t really care.  I was more 
worried about what was happening downstairs with Louis.
         �Well, there�s only one way to clean up ice cream that I know of,� 
Brent said.  He pointed to a small child�s bed in the corner of the room.  
�You and Fleury go and lick it off each other,� he told Cheyenne.  
         Cheyenne, enjoying her nudity and with an eye toward the promise of 
Brent�s erection, crossed over to me and took my hand.  �Let�s make up,� 
she said.
         �Alright,� I replied.  We kissed.  We did it for Brent.  She took my 
face in her hands and we wiggled our bottoms as our tongues touched.  I 
felt her nipples perk to mine.  Polly, still unsatisfied, begged to join us.  
Cheyenne took my hand and led me over to the bed.  I waited while she 
turned down the covers.  Then we both slipped into it.  We kissed again, 
briefly, and then I stretched out on the bed.  She knelt beside me.  She 
smiled at me.  I smiled back, waiting for her tongue.  I glanced at Brent.  
         �Play with yourself,� I encouraged him.  I wanted him to cum so we 
might escape downstairs.
         �Alright,� Brent answered.  �See if you can make me cum.�
         �Oooh, I�m tired of swinging!  I want OUT!� Polly moaned.
         �Quiet, girl!  Stick your finger through that hole in the front of your 
swing and play with yourself right along with me,� Brent ordered her.
         �Oooh, this is naughty,� Polly said, discovering for the first time 
that there was an extra leg hole in her swing, unused.  She reached over 
the front of her swingseat and poked her finger at her slit.  
         �You�re still a slut,� I said to Cheyenne.
         �I know, but I�ll bite off your nipples if you call me that again,� she 
said softly to me.  She lowered her face to my tits and began licking them.  
I sighed.  I parted my legs more widely and her hand slid down my creamy 
belly to my cunt.  �You taste good,� Cheyenne told me.
         �Thanks,� I answered.
         I shivered and turned my head on its side.  What an unusual room we 
were in!  Some awful pedophile must have designed it, for it was, in 
effect, a playroom for very small children.  There was the toy cabinet, 
made of plastic.  There was the swingset, with twin swings, designed for 
infants, except with bigger seats.  There was a children�s table, low to the 
ground, with small seats designed to hold little children�s bottoms.  I saw 
Play-Doh, rattles, pacifiers, lying about aimlessly, waiting to be picked up 
and played with.  But also there were dildos, of varying sizes and designs.  
Plus condoms, casually laid out so they might be picked up and used at a 
moment�s notice.  Off in one corner there was a baby pool, already 
inflated, with a hose stretching out from a faucet in the wall so it could 
be easily filled.  Within it, waiting, were water wings, a toy telescope, a 
pinwheel, and a plastic boat.  Beside it stood the de rigueur bottle of Mr. 
Bubble, housed in a bottle shaped like Winnie the Pooh.  Underneath the 
baby pool was a big fluffy towel, laid out, for obviously any girls who got 
into the pool would make splashes and toss water out of the pool.  The 
floor itself was softly carpeted, to protect the little bare feet that were 
sure to scamper across it.  Above, a skylight allowed the sun to brighten 
the room naturally.  We might have been outside in the yard but, given all 
the opportunities to fuck, we were instead in a private attic, sound-
proofed, with the trap door locked securely.  It would be our word against 
Brent�s as to what happened here, and I guessed his would win.  We were, 
after all, just little girls, weren�t we?
         Cheyenne slurped her way down my belly.  I glanced down at my tits.  
They were sparkling clean, save for the saliva left behind by her tongue.
         �You�re doing a good job,� I shivered.  Her fingers lightly played 
along my slit.  
         �Thanks,� she answered.  I opened my legs a little wider.  Despite my 
misgivings about being here, I couldn�t deny I was enjoying myself.  I 
stroked my fingers along Cheyenne�s thigh.  She shifted a little.  �Not yet,� 
she teased.  She shifted her hips away from me so that I could not reach 
her slit.
         �What do you want me to do to you?� I laughed.  My bosoms bounced 
nakedly on my chest.
         �I�m going to take you right to the brink, and then you�re going to do 
me,� Cheyenne said.  She lifted her face from my body to speak to me.  
There was ice cream on her nose.
         �You�re wicked,� I said.  I did not want to be aroused and then left 
hanging.
         �You�ll tongue me very nicely if you�re desperate,� Cheyenne said 
happily.  She saw my hand edging toward my cunt in response.  �No, don�t 
play with yourself,� Cheyenne warned me.  �If you do I�ll find a whip and 
flay your bottom, and ask Brent to help me.�  She grabbed my hand by the 
wrist, lightly but firmly, a finger on her hand extended as if she were 
holding a teacup, and moved my hand away from myself.
         �What, are you the domme?� I asked her, a bit surprised.  She was 
the newest girl!  She had not even met Branson yet.  
         �Yes, I am the domme, at least for now,� Cheyenne said to me.  She 
placed her face over my tummy and swirled her tongue round my navel, 
once, then ran it directly, in a continuous line, right down my belly and 
through my pubic mound to my slit.  She beavered into me and I shuddered 
uncontrollably.  I gritted my teeth, smiling, and bucked up my hips.
         �Ohhhh, please don�t,� I begged.  I didn�t really want to be here with 
Brent.  I didn�t want to let myself go like this.  I�d just wanted to get him 
to cum, and then escape downstairs.  But now I was sinking into the abyss 
of pleasure, and anything might happen to me now!
         Brent came to our bedside and stood over us and massaged himself.  I 
looked up, then Cheyenne.  �Please don�t shoot on us,� I begged him.  I 
didn�t really want a semen shower.  He reached down and pushed Cheyenne 
off me.  She toppled back and landed on her bottomcheeks.  She�d been 
kneeling over me, but she let him roughly push her back, as if she were a 
rag doll.  She sat with her legs open and her slit showing.  I think she 
wanted it more than I did, despite the licking she�d tantalized me with.
         �Get up,� Brent told me.
         �Oh, please,� I protested.  Lying underneath Cheyenne�s attentive 
tongue was, I was sure, much better than anything Brent had planned for 
me.  But he took me by the arm and yanked me up from the bed.  I stood 
shivering beside him, naked as he was, warily eyeing his cock.  He�d 
undressed since Cheyenne and I had taken to the bed.  He ordered me over 
to the toy cabinet.  What was he thinking?
         �Find me a nice pair of dildos,� Brent said to me.  I glanced about.  
There were a few lying about, intermixed with the toys someone had left 
out, but I guessed he found those unsatisfactory.  I opened the toy cabinet.  
Well, there were none here, I realized.  But drawers down below held out 
some promise.  I began opening them and soon found one full of dildos, all 
laid out in a pile, like sausages, with a red velvet handkerchief underneath 
them.
         �Pick two,� Brent said quietly to me.  �They need to have studs on 
the end so they can be clipped into the holes on the infant swing.�
         He spoke quietly.  I bit my lower lip and tried to suppress a smile.  
Cheyenne had gotten up from the bed and gone to Polly and was swinging 
her.  Polly, who�d spent the last five minutes complaining that she wanted 
out of the swing, was now ordering Cheyenne to push her higher and higher.
         �WHEEE!  Go higher!� I heard Polly yelling in the background as 
Cheyenne, her tits swinging, dutifully pushed on Polly�s seat.  I found two 
well-sized dildos for her, with the proper studs, and plucked them from 
the drawer.  Polly would be giving quite different orders in a minute.
         Cheyenne, perhaps sensing mischief, stilled Polly�s swing as I turned 
and approached them.  Polly gazed at me with childish eyes, big, round, 
unknowing.  I walked easily, feeling quite tingly in my slit thanks to 
Cheyenne�s licking, swaying my hips sexily to excite Brent.  I was getting 
into the mood of the moment now.  I�d stopped thinking about escaping 
from the attic.  With a leap of my heart I realized that Brent, or perhaps 
Cheyenne, had lofted Polly�s hands up high over her head and fitted them 
into cuffs.  The cuffs hung down from the overhead pole of the swingset, 
the horizontal pole, where the swing itself was attached.  I felt my 
nipples grow harder as I realized little Polly, quite nude in her swing, 
would be utterly at my mercy.
         �What are those for?� Polly asked me.  I dangled the two dildos 
temptingly before her eyes.
         �They�re for you,� I laughed.  �Polly, you�re going to sit in the Seat 
of Doom!�
         �Nooooo!� Polly shrieked.  But Cheyenne put her hands to Polly�s 
little ribs and held her tight in the seat.  Polly wriggled, watching, as I 
placed the first dildo against her slit.  There was a hole in her seat, her 
slit plump against the opening.  she was utterly at my disposal.
         �Mmmm, you�re wet, Polly.  Have you been playing with yourself?� I 
asked her.
         �Nooo,� Polly gurgled, watching me with big eyes.  Brent handed me a 
jar of vaseline.  How thoughtful of him.  How forgetful of me not to 
remember it.  Quickly I larded the dildo with vaseline, sticking it into the 
jar and then drawing it out.
         �Pleeeeaze,� Polly gasped, watching.  It was a nice big dildo and 
would plug her quite well.
         �This is only the first of two, Polly,� I laughed.  �The second one 
goes you-know-where.�  Cheyenne laughed with me.  Polly screamed, like a 
little girl might, playing at the pool.  I pushed the dildo right into her.  She 
was tight but my dildo was well greased and she�d wettened herself my 
being naughty in her swing.
         �Oooh, ooh, ooooh,� Polly gasped, each gasp a little yelp.  The next 
thing I knew, Brent, our ever-handy man, was passing a penis shaped ball 
gag to Cheyenne.  The girl accepted it eagerly and wrapped it over Polly�s 
gasping mouth.  
         �Gooooo,� Polly moaned, fighting the gag.  But Cheyenne got it right 
in and buckled the head strap on her.  I fitted the dildo entirely within her 
moist slit and latched it onto the clasps on the swingseat.  Next I took the 
second dildo and, burrowing it in the vaseline, I proceeded to jam it up her 
bottomhole, right through the convenient hole that had been cut in the 
seat.  
         Polly was beside herself.  All three orifices of hers were plugged.  I 
found the butt dildo the hardest to get up her but I persevered until the 
task was done.  Cheyenne began swinging Polly when I�d finished.  We 
looked amazing.  Tanned, healthy, with ice cream smeared over ourselves 
but our hair still pretty.  Polly wriggled in her seat, utterly captive, 
utterly unable to escape.  What a pretty picture she made!  Brent began 
fisting himself furiously.  I turned to him and touched a finger to the head 
of his cock.
         �You, sir, are a pervert,� I told him.  And he was, too.  He must have 
eyed his little daughters every day, wanting them, but quite unable to have 
them, of course, because they were born for other men, not their father.  
Now there was a real girl, with boobs and all, displayed in the seductive, 
captivating infant seat.  One he could fuck at will, with Cheyenne playfully 
pushing her.  And there was me, of course, the nearest twat.  We were all 
just twats, I think, and him a cock.  We cared nothing for him, nor he for 
us.  But we did have a healthy admiration for each other�s privates.
         I reached under Brent�s cock and clasped his balls.  They were huge, 
hairy.  I cupped them gently, afraid to hurt them, they seemed so full and 
swollen.  I felt his twin eggs and carefully gave each one a little squeeze.
         �You�re in need of emptying, sir,� I told Brent frankly.  �You could 
hurt yourself, trying to carry around this much sperm.  How do you manage 
to find pants that fit you?�  I squeezed each of his eggs again, more 
forcefully.  I think he liked the idea that I might hurt him.
         �Ohhh,� Brent moaned.  His huge chest rippled with his anxiousness.  
He wanted to cum, yet he did enjoy so much playing with himself, I think 
he just wanted to be stiff forever.  �I�ve had such a cold wife,� Brent told 
me.  Really, I didn�t want to hear about his wife or his family problems, 
but he told me anyway.  �Yet, every night, I had to bathe my daughters.  
They were so.... open, available.�
         �Yes, sir, you�re developing quite a pedophile problem,� I told Brent, 
meanwhile taunting his balls with ever more rudeness, squeezing, pinching 
them a little.  Then I got an idea.  �You need to watch two grown-up girls 
take a bath,� I said to him.  
         I turned to call to Cheyenne.  She was bending under Polly�s seat.  
�Look, these dildos can be turned on!� she exclaimed.  
         �Oh, don�t!� I said.  But I hadn�t selected them with the purest of 
intentions.  Polly�s eyes were wide as she realized what would happen.  
Wide as saucers.  She burbled something but her penis pacifier kept us 
from hearing.  
         BZZZZ!  I heard suddenly, and then it was joined by a second.  
Cheyenne laughed.  She�d turned on both of Polly�s underneath dildos, 
sparing only her mouth.  
         WAAAK!  Polly screamed within the plugging fulness of her oral 
dildo.  She buzzed atop the twin dildos in her ass and cunt, shivering right 
along with them, her boobies shaking on her chest.
         �Come, bath time,� I called to Cheyenne.  I wanted to get all this ice 
cream off me.  I walked to the baby pool, leaving Brent to fist himself, and 
bent and turned on the wall faucet.  The hose gurgled and began filling the 
inflated pool.
         �Oh, thank God,� Cheyenne said.  I�m tired of being a walking ice 
cream cone.  She tossed her hair and walked over to the me.  Polly was left 
to suffer the buzzing visitors in her holes.  
         �I�m thirsty,� I said.  I knelt down outside the pool and stuck my 
head over the rapidly rising water.  Cheyenne joined me, and together we 
lapped fresh water from the clean plastic pool.  Brent, meanwhile, let out 
a new groan of pleasure, watching our bare asses.  We tightened them.  His 
prick was so near, and neither of us wanted to get butt fucked by him.  We 
just wanted to play.  I felt my tits swaying underneath my chest as I 
lapped at the water.  I was female.  The male prowled somewhere behind 
me.  Would he swoop down and fuck me?  I hoped not.  I didn�t want him to.  
Yet I couldn�t resist teasing him.  Fortunately, Brent just kept fisting 
himself, admiring us both so much that he couldn�t decide which of us to 
take first!
         �Mmm, the water�s cold,� Cheyenne said to me.
         �I know.  It can�t be helped,� I replied.  We both got up and stepped 
into the chilly water.  She lifted the bubble bath and sprinkled some into 
the tub.  She stirred the powder with her foot to make the bubbles grow.  
         �Sit down, cowards.  Get your bottoms wet,� Brent told us.  He came 
up to us and Cheyenne and I both sank down to avoid him.  He was as lusty 
as a satyr.
         �Ohh, it IS cold,� Cheyenne exclaimed as her bottom touched the 
water.  Reluctantly she sat in it.  I sat down too.  I felt the chilly water 
envelope my bottom and invade my slit.  I stared at her, she at me.  
         �Well, we�re seated, at least,� I said to her with big eyes.  �I hate 
cold baths,� I admitted.
         �Me too,� Cheyenne replied, but then she splashed me.  She didn�t 
mind, I guess, if she made me chilly.  I splashed her back.  She picked up a 
loofah brush.  There was a soap squirt beside it.  Boldly she squirted my 
tits, first one nipple, then the other.
         �The soap smells good, at least,� I said.  It was creamy and fragrant.
         �I wish it was edible,� Cheyenne admitted.
         �You would!� I laughed.  She took the loofah brush and carefully 
began scrubbing my tits.  Her strokes were bold in their carefulness.  I 
felt like I was a vestal virgin being prepared for some bizarre sacrifice.  
Cheyenne passed the bristly sponge-like brush over my nipples.  I gasped.  
         �Wait �til I get to your slit,� Cheyenne smiled at me.  �I wonder if 
this would feel nice being stuffed up you?�  The brush was long and 
cylindrical, shaped like a barren cardboard center from an empty roll of 
paper towels.
         �You are a domme,� I said to her.  �But you haven�t been whipped by 
Branson yet.  Then you can be domme.  Until then, I am.�
         �Whipped?� Cheyenne asked.  Her strokes slowed.  
         �Every girl must be,� I told her.  �A penal whipping, as repentance 
for all the bad things she�s going to do here at the castle.�
         �Have you been?� she asked.  Her face was contemplative now.  She�d 
ceased washing me with the brush.  I took it from her.  
         �Yes,� I answered.  I grabbed her lovely hair.  �Turn around.  Show me 
your bottom,� I told her.  Reluctantly Cheyenne got turned round in the 
make-believe tub and bent herself over.  She had to rest her elbows on the 
towel outside of the pool.  Half in, half out, her knees in the water but her 
elbows outside it, her legs splayed open in the water but her head hanging 
over the floor and the towel, Cheyenne presented her bottom to me.
         �Very good,� I said.  �You obey well.�  Then I ran the loofah brush 
boldly between the cheeks of her ass, scrubbing her tender ass crack 
briskly.  Cheyenne gasped as she felt its bristly sponginess dig deep into 
her cleft.  �Yes, whipped,� I teased her.  �How sore you�ll be when it�s all 
over!  But it must be done, before you can be a domme.�
         �Umph,� Cheyenne breathed.  I think she may have started to say 
�yes,� but at the last moment she stuffed her fist into her mouth and 
suppressed the sound so that it was inaudible.
         �I�m going to cum,� Brent announced.  He thrust forth his hips and 
fisted his big cock vigorously.
         �Cum in my mouth, then, I don�t want it all shooting into our bath 
water,� I told him suddenly.  I turned and offered him my lips.  He thrust 
himself into me and I prepared myself to begin swallowing.  I wanted to 
get clean in this tub, however cold the water might be, and go tie up 
Cheyenne for her whipping.  I wanted to engineer it, to make it happen 
now, with me in charge of her.  Brent was just an obstacle.  Perhaps his 
passion could be got rid of.  Then he would leave us alone.
         �Unh, unh, unh,� Brent groaned.  He began shooting himself into my 
gasping mouth.  I struggled to swallow fast as his jism suddenly erupted.  
My God!  I felt like I�d put my mouth over Old Faithful!  He shot merrily, 
lustily, relieving himself of days, perhaps months, of sexual tension.  
Meanwhile I lightly tickled Cheyenne�s slit.  She mewled soft sighs of 
pleasure.  Her boobies shook as mine were shaking, while Polly, poor girl, 
was left to be unpleasantly amused in her swing seat.                      

30

----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-----Back issues (and stories):  http://www.dejanews.com/
Click on �Power Search� in the middle of the screen.
Change �standard� archive to �complete� archive.
Type:  roller666@earthlink.net  into the �Power Search� box.
Click on �Find� (the button to the right of the box).
-----Other providers:  
Usenet Newsgroup:  alt.sex.stories.moderated
Or via the Web:
http://www.eroticstories.com
http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-----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 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.  Work by others
  copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF story EMISSION
    

bush3