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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         CUNT CASTLE

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                                         Chapter Two

         �Girls, I will do my best to provide for your comfort while you�re 
here with me,� Rose explained.  �But you must each surrender yourself 
completely to your lover�s desires.  And he may desire whatever he 
wishes!  He is not to be denied anything for the next two weeks, and I will 
make sure of it.  Although I am a complete feminist, I do believe men have 
rights too.  Men need to dominate sometimes, and to control.  Here they 
will be permitted to do that.  Elsewhere they might be punished for raping 
their wives, or talking to or even looking at girls like yourself.  Not here.  
I provide this as a small service to mankind to allow him a brief retreat 
to the days when men were men, and unrestrainedly so.  There will be no 
political correctness here.  The law is their law, and you must obey.�  She 
smiled.  �You must think of it as being done for you, otherwise you will 
never be able to bear it.  That is what I discovered.  If you remember that 
always they are thinking of you, watching you, whoever might actually be 
screwing you, then you will find yourself able to accept it all.�
         She turned and turned down the bedcover and top sheet on the bed.  
�Now Polly, since Fleurette went first last time, let�s have you be first 
now.  I want you to get on the bed and lie down on your tummy and open up 
your legs.  Nice and wide.�  Rose took Polly by the arm and guided her onto 
the bed, Polly lifting her knees, first one, then the other, so she could 
crawl onto it.  Rose made her lie flat on her tummy, then placed a pillow 
beneath her chin so she might have some comfort for her head.  Her arms 
remained firmly bound behind her.  �Spread your legs, Polly,� Rose told the 
girl.  She slapped her bottom lightly to get her to comply.  Immediately, 
still sore from the paddle, Polly opened her knees into a wide vee, lifting 
her heels up and letting them kick aimlessly in the air.  �Now stay like 
that, Polly, while I vaseline your anus for you.  Don�t make me tie you.  
You�re a big girl and you should be able to take this.�
         �Whomapmout?� Polly asked behind her gag.  Rose opened the top 
drawer of the dresser and drew out a jar of vaseline.  She dipped her 
finger in it and, at a squeak from Polly, opened the girl�s ass and rimmed 
her anus.  �It�s an enema, dear.  You�ll have a nice solid enema stuck up 
your bottom to get out any shit that might be in there.  Then, after you go 
potty, your boyfriend will show you what it�s like to be buttfucked.  Have 
you ever been buttfucked before, Polly?�  
         �Noooophoph!� Polly squealed behind her gag.  
         �I didn�t think so...my, you�re so tight!� Rose exclaimed.  �I wish I 
was still that squeaky-tight but I�m afraid I�ve had men sawing away in 
me since I was seven, and I�m quite a bit older than that now.  Lie still, 
Polly, I don�t want to cut your insides with my fingernail.�  
         Rose stuck her finger into Polly�s hole with some considerable 
effort and then, to squawks from the girl, lubricated the inside of her 
channel up to the first inch.  Polly seemed to sense that she might be 
injured and lay with only a few wiggles while the passage was eased.  At 
last Rose drew out her finger.  There was a cup on the nightstand for little 
girls to have water in and Rose dipped her greased finger into the cup to 
wet it.  Then she wiped off her finger on a linen handkerchief that had 
been lying fresh in the drawer.  I made sure to remember not to ask for a 
drink during the night.
         The men, on their own initiative, began disrobing.  I don�t know if 
Rose noticed at first, perhaps it suited her purpose not to.  Off came the 
men�s dark, steeply-priced jackets, both tailor made and worn to convey 
substance and rigidly conservative values.  They dropped them on the floor 
like day-old laundry.  Their ties followed, loosened first, nooses being 
undone on the scaffold by prisoners given a last-minute reprieve.  I saw 
their breath increase.  Their chests worked rhythmically beneath their 
starched shirts, runners getting up their wind for a critical race.  
         As the men worked open their shirt buttons Rose, sitting primly 
with her finger in Polly�s hineyhole, looked up.  A smile flitted across her 
face as she saw the sumptuous manflesh being exposed just as fast as the 
boys could get their bodies out of their clothes.  She let her eyes fall 
across their hairy chests, tracing their fingers a moment with her stare 
as they raced to get their shirtbuttons open.  And then her countenance 
took on the appearance of a woman delighted by the vigor of her charges, 
but finding them undisciplined.
         �Ah, boys,� Rose said with a librarian�s condescension, scolding a 
whisper.  �Did I say you could undress?�
         �No,� Andre admitted, staying his fingers a moment.  My Louis kept 
on unbuttoning his shirt.
         �Louis!� Rose admonished him.  Reluctantly he stopped his hands over 
his navel button.  
         Lightly Rose brushed back her long ink-black hair from her face.  Her 
coiffure had become slightly undone by her exertions within Polly�s anus.  
�While both of you are free to dominate your girlfriends,� Rose began, 
with a wiggle of Polly�s bare bottom indicating she wished to get up.  Rose 
slapped her tushy lightly with her hand.  �While you own your girlfriends,� 
Rose began again, �I own both of you gentlemen, during your stay here at 
my castle.  In my presence, you are to ask my permission before you do 
anything so gauche as stripping your clothes off.�  
         Andre seemed mesmerized by her words, but my Louis balked.  He 
fingered his final shirtbutton, eager to get it undone so he could go on to 
his pants zipper.  He flexed his considerable biceps, which were still 
encased in the starched white sleeves of his shirt.  �I could break your 
skinny little body in two,� Louis snarled under his breath, looking directly 
at Rose.  She did not flinch or show any emotion.  She simply stared back 
at him.
         �Louis,� she said finally.  �I do have protection.  A certain drug lord 
looks after my welfare, for a cut of my profits, of course.�  Louis kept his 
face set in a look of noncompliance.  �Lord Shaftsbury,� Rose intoned.  
Louis� face softened.  He seemed suddenly resigned to obey.  I felt a shiver 
run right down my spine to my tailbone.  My first love, I did not wish to 
meet him again.  I�d left him behind, though we�d been so close once.  I had 
Louis now.  Yet Louis seemed to sense that, despite his muscles, which 
Lord Shaftsbury did not possess, he would be most unwise to take on my 
first lover.  �Ah, so you�ve heard of him,� Rose continued.
         �A sewer rat, but a very powerful sewer rat,� Louis muttered.
         �Good, then I�m glad to see you�ll behave.  Really, Louis, you had me 
scared for a minute there.  I don�t necessarily turn away men who can�t 
obey, after all I am running a business here, but I don�t play with them 
personally.  You must work on your chivalry a little, Louis.  All your needs 
will be satisfied beyond your wildest dreams, but you must learn the 
virtues of patience and self-control.�  She dropped her eyes to his 
considerable crotch.
         �I can hold my sperm better than any man,� Louis growled.  He was 
still upset by being bested by Rose, I could tell.  I think that�s why I loved 
Louis so much.  He was so primal.  A bull in a necktie (which now lay on 
the floor beside his jacket).  I guess I was hooked on musclemen at the 
moment.
         Rose ran her lips over her tongue.  They sparkled with her saliva.  
�Let�s see your equipment, then, Louis.  You have my permission.  But keep 
your distance.  Little Polly here is a bit anxious about having your thing up 
her hole.�
         Louis gratefully yanked off his shirt and started working open his 
pants.  �I brought my own girl,� he said, with a glance at me.  I stood at 
attention by the bed.  My hands were gripped by the handcuffs, and pinned 
behind my back.  I held Polly�s panties in my mouth, though I longed to spit 
them out.  Imagine, being gagged with another girl�s panties.  I 
remembered her peeing in the ladies room at the restaurant.  Had any pee 
droplets dribbled into her panties?  I hoped not.  I couldn�t taste any pee, 
anyway, though there seemed to be a hint of cunt juice.  I tried not to 
think about it.  There was a wetness between my legs.  I knew it wasn�t 
from any unmet bathroom needs.  I was too terrified to think of anything 
like that at the moment.  
         �You�ll do only what I allow,� Rose said to Louis.  She jammed her 
finger deep into Polly�s hole, abruptly, as if frustrated by Louis� continued 
obstinance.  Poor Polly bleated like a shorn sheep.  Her bottom bounced on 
the sheets as if it had just been given a shot.  Rose turned her head to 
Andre.  His penis popped from his pants as he managed to be the first male 
in the room to present himself.  �Andre, I didn�t say you could undress, did 
I?� Rose asked him.  Nonetheless her eyes feasted on his erect organ as 
eagerly as mine.  I scolded myself, but couldn�t help it.  Some say a dead 
body is that way.  You can�t tear your eyes away, though your mind 
screams at you to.  Well, Andre�s rod was much more mesmerizing.  I 
licked my lips, involuntarily, blushed when I�d realized I�d done it.  Louis 
frowned at me.
         �I see if you�re to become regular users of my castle, you�ll need 
some training,� Rose said to Andre and Louis.  As she spoke, Louis got his 
pants fully open and his huge penis popped out.  It was long and thick and I 
and Rose gazed at both his and Andre�s for a long minute, comparing them, 
gauging their strength, their potential for endurance.  I think two finer 
cocks were never on display.  Polly chose to play the child and hid her face 
in her pillow.  I noticed her thighs part an extra inch, though.  She wanted 
them both, but was too shy to say so.
         �We are going to have a little intermission,� Rose said suddenly.  
She stood up from the bed.  At once Polly rolled on her side and gazed at 
everyone, her mouth open, her legs turned but still invitingly wide.  She 
walked to the dresser.  She dipped her finger that had investigated Polly�s 
backside into the water cup.  She dried it on the handkerchief.  Leaning 
over the dresser, she reached down behind it.  She withdrew a wickedly 
slender Malaccan cane.  The men looked at her with uncertain eyes, their 
cocks on full display.  �Finish undressing, men,� Rose commanded.  They 
eased down their trousers, revealing their athletic legs.  They kicked off 
their shoes, confident, but perhaps just a little worried too, as Rose 
flicked her cane idly against the side of the dresser.  It made an insidious 
swish through the air and then struck the dresser with a clean, sharp 
whack.
         When the men were free of everything, including their socks and 
shoes, Rose spoke again.  �I�m going to cane you both on your bare buns,� 
she said simply.  She took off her vest, never letting go of the cane as she 
spoke.  Then she undid the buttons of her blouse.  Finally, reaching behind 
herself, she unhooked her bra.  Her bosoms spilled from the brassiere.  
They were twin cones of quivering white flesh, made all the more alluring 
by the fact that, from the waist down, Rose still wore her yuppie-perfect 
dress, while from the waist up she was utterly nude.
         Rose whacked the open palm of her hand with her cane when she was 
stripped bare to the waist.  She eyed Louis and Andre, both of them naked 
as jaybirds now, their cocks quivering with manly need, their bottoms 
surely as worried as mine was.  �Turn around, both of you,� Rose said to 
my boyfriend and Polly�s.  
         �No!  Please,� I begged, but Polly�s panties, in the mouth, obscured 
me.  I did not want to see our boyfriend�s lovely asses flayed, laid open by 
the cane.  I liked my boyfriend�s butt just as it was!  Yet, difficult as he�d 
been just a minute before, Louis now turned and offered Rose his backside.
         �Open your legs,� Rose said to both men.  They seemed uncertain.  �I 
know, I know, you do not wish your testicles injured.  You must both trust 
me.  You must show complete subservience to me.  If you�re both good I 
shouldn�t think I�d have the slightest interest in cutting off your lineage.�  
With an exchange of frustrated glances, Louis and Andre parted their 
well-built legs and showed Rose their testicles from behind.  They were 
two nutsacks of perfect proportion, heavy with sperm and promising many 
babies for both of us.  I wanted to rush forward and save them from 
whatever might transpire.  Rose walked up to both of them and felt 
between their legs and squeezed their sperm pouches.  I prayed she didn�t 
milk them too thoughtlessly.  A stray touch might trigger their seed, and 
all might be lost.
         �Bend over,� Rose ordered.  Both men glanced at each other, then 
complied.  They gripped their ankles.  Their dongs were pushed down by 
their bending stomachs.  �Oh, you are both so long,� Rose said in a tone 
that was half admonitory, half admiring.  She clucked and ran her fingers 
slowly down the tender underside of each man�s penis, leaving little pinch 
marks as she went, testing the tensile strength of each organ.  I watched, 
holding Polly�s panties delicately in my mouth.  Oh, how I longed to soothe 
those poor pinched penises.  But with Rose armed with a difficult cane, 
one whose reputation was as challenging to a backside as any imaginable, 
I was in no mood to test her will.    
         Both men held up well as Rose felt their organs, their balls, 
examining them from behind as thoroughly as a gynecologist might check a 
woman with child.  �Very good,� she said at last.  �Please remain standing 
just as you are.  I like my men compliant sometimes, depending on my 
mood.  Now I�ll give you both a few whacks to show you who�s boss.�
         �That�s a ruthless cane,� Louis said, looking through his parted legs 
with his head upside down.  I almost giggled, losing Polly�s panties.  He 
looked quite silly.
         Rose patted Louis� rear.  �I don�t believe in making things easy, 
dear,� she said quietly.  She lifted her cane and ran out its length on her 
palm.  It was a frightening four and a half feet long, I guessed, yet it was 
incredibly light, just a handle, really, with a shard of palmstem sprouting 
out to its tip.  A silken thread wound with lighthearted grace along the 
stem, then looped through a hole at the tip, where it formed a decorative 
little bow.  A very feminine instrument, really, but able to pack a 
substantial bite.  �Ready, boys?� Rose asked.
         �No,� Louis and Andre grunted, no doubt wondering how a castle that 
promised them utter freedom wound up having them bare their holes.
         �I expect you both to be as demanding with your girlfriends as I am 
with you,� Rose said, sending a chill down my spine.  I pushed my tummy 
out, struggled with my handcuffs.  No use.  My breasts jiggled on my chest.  
My ribs showed.  
         Graceful as she was deadly, Rose turned away from the men and 
lifted her cane above her head.  But for the fact she was topless, I might 
have thought I was watching high culture, a ballet in New York or Berlin.  
Rose touched a finger to the tip of the cane, bending it toward herself, 
watching with upraised eyes a moment as it flexed in her hands.  Then she 
released the tip, lowered her head, and whirled about and struck Louis 
right on his ass.
         �Yeeeeow!� Louis shouted with all the force a man might muster.  
His head shot up.  His balls bounced beneath him, though they were, 
fortunately, not a recipient of the blow.  His ass clenched and then 
released, clenched again.  Spittle flew from his mouth and hit the floor.  
His cock waggled like an old lady�s finger.
         I drew in my bottomcheeks tightly as I watched Louis� buns contort 
from the blow.  His asscrack shrank to a narrow threadlike line, then, his 
cheeks releasing themselves at last, his hair within showed again.  He did 
not get up.  He remained bent double, though he might have stood, grabbing 
his ankles tight.  I admired his fortitude even as I pitied his pain.  A slim 
line, no more than a pencil, announced itself across his backside.  It was 
deep red.
         Louis received his in turn.  His antics, complete with his penis flying 
and his balls bounding like twin balls in Jacks, burned deep into my mind.  
I found myself liking the show, even as I knew I stood a good chance of 
getting equal treatment myself before the night expired.  I prayed I�d be 
somehow forgotten.  Let Rose whip the men, and fuck them afterward.  
Polly and I would be good girls and just watch.
         Her footing sure, her aim precise, Rose gave each man a half-dozen 
strokes of the cane over his tense, sweating rump.  She never hit anyplace 
twice.  That would have been truly cruel.  It would have burst those tight 
little buns, right across their surface, and made them bleed, possibly 
marking them for life.  I thanked God Rose had a practised hand.  I could 
tell these weren�t her first victims.  Her expertise was daunting.  She told 
myself and Polly where she would hit from the second strikes onward, 
describing the men�s asses in loving detail.  And then she�d hit right where 
she�d promised.  Louis and Andre gritted their teeth.  They said nothing, 
except to howl and moan.  I felt their cocks got ever more huge, though, 
despite the obvious pain they were suffering.
         At last Rose permitted the men to stand.  Their hands flew to their 
hineys and they ground their teeth as they worked their palms over the 
injured surfaces.  Their knees moved back and forth a little, as they stood 
in place still, examining the damage and trying to assuage it.
         �Oh, come on!� Rose teased.  She made Andre howl by sticking the 
end of the cane straight into his asscheeks.  �That�s nothing, boys.  A 
little starter.  Turn around and let�s see how your things are doing.�  The 
men turned about, their eyes wincing, their penises bigger than I�d ever 
seen them.  Rose poked at the tip of Andre�s cock with her bow-pointed 
cane.  Andre lurched backward to avoid a second touch.
         �Let�s adjourn briefly to the sitting room, where we can 
contemplate what�s to be done,� Rose said, turning with a meaningful look 
at myself and Polly.  Louis, apparently guessing at its purpose, went to the 
side of the bedroom and drew open a door.  Beyond lay not a bathroom, as I 
had expected, as you�d find in any ordinary bedroom, but an upstairs parlor 
instead.  Walking toward it, I realized that the bedroom we were in was 
not for sleeping at all, but for training a girl, pure and simple.  The sitting 
room served as a place where a man might talk with Rose and plan the 
girl�s denouement.  It was fed by a back stairway that meant a visiting 
girl, perhaps in olden days brought up from the village, could immediately 
be debauched.  The front entrance, the grand staircase, the long hallway 
leading past the other rooms, all could be avoided.  A girl of 12 might be 
slipped within the house with nobody seeing.  She could be used, her hymen 
torn, and then taken away again, all through the rear of the house, perhaps 
while a formal dinner transpired below, or an elegant ball.
         I heard heavy footfalls on the steps.  A maid entered into the 
concealed little parlor just as we ourselves walked in.  There were no 
windows in the room.  It had the feel of a hidden chamber, like the 
bedroom itself, which also allowed in no light from outside.  It was 
sumptuously decorated, however, with overstuffed chairs, paintings, a 
few books.  The wallpaper was damask, not paper at all, but silk, finely 
patterned with natural dyes.  Rose told us this as we stood and looked at 
our place of confinement.  She warned the men not to shoot themselves 
onto the walls.
         �Bring a comforter for each of the young men,� Rose told her maid.  
The men stood with squirming legs and buttocks, obvious in their 
condition of agony.  Their pricks stood out like thick, throbbing spires 
above their strainingly-tight balls.  The maid, whom I�d glimpsed as we 
sat so calmly in the parlor downstairs, was an old woman, perhaps 60.  
She�d spied on us a little downstairs.  I�d dismissed her from my mind at 
the time, hardly paying her any attention.  I thought she was the cleaning 
woman.  She looked too old to serve us.  I wished we still had the young 
girl.  She was polite, attentive, helpful.  The old woman, whom I�m sure 
the men never saw at all as they relaxed downstairs, was dour and mean.  I 
doubted not that she felt the men had just gotten what they deserved.  
They were rich boys from the city.  Her husband, I�m sure, was no more 
than a peasant farmer, laboring in the fields by day until his skin cracked 
in the sun and his hands turned to gnarled claws.  His sex would have 
shrivelled by now, leaving his wife bereft.  She was worn and lined from 
age and years of hard work.  She had no pity for us.  I shrank back as I 
looked at her.  It was so humiliating, where was the girl?  She I�d felt a 
little embarrassed about being nude in front of, but this woman!  Her eyes 
grazed me like a toad eyeing a tasty bug.  It was so shameful to be 
stripped naked in front of such an old hussy, her hands gnarled, her breasts 
hanging low and flat like pancakes, her hips huge and matronly.  Worst of 
all, she wore her clothes as neatly as if she were going to church.  Layer 
after layer of clothing hid her figure from our view.  A heavy dress of 
white showed its hem beneath a second dress of black, each flowing down 
from her middle.  I knew she must wear bloomers beneath, encasing each 
of her legs.  I could hear them rasping together as she walked.  Above her 
rustling, heavy dresses was her blouse, with a firmly buttoned vest over 
it, and a full-length apron tied down her front.  She wore a maid�s hat.  It 
looked like it was so well-secured to her head that she expected to meet a 
typhoon.  Only her arms and hands were bare, her sleeves rolled up, as if 
she�d just been doing the laundry.  Her arms were thick and manly.  They 
were spotted with age, as was her face.  She glowered at us, but with a 
trace of amusement in her eyes, cynical amusement, jealous and wishing 
the worst for us.  Her hair, neatly drawn up into a bun, gave her a 
business-like look.  It was a sharp contrast to my own hair, flowing and 
free and playful, and Polly�s.  Even Rose�s pretty coiffure, slightly mussed 
now, looked utterly uninhibited compared to our maid.
         I thought the maid would turn and have to go back downstairs, but 
she opened yet another door, into a closet, and drew out two comforters 
and set them on chairs for the men.  With gritting teeth our loves sat 
down, each in his own princely stuffed chair, but with his bare buns 
smarting fiercely as he sat on the downy white-ruffled cushion brought by 
the maid.
         Standing in my birthday suit, with my titties twitching, my muff 
moist, I tried to avoid the maid�s eyes.  Polly too seemed to find her 
modesty.  She had the added discomfort of a shiny heinie-hole, obvious 
from the traces of fingermarks Rose had left behind.  They trailed out 
from the center of her backside, leaving no doubt what had been done.  All 
vaseline trails lead to the greased butthole, as a Roman might say.  She 
wore her hair with a My Little Pony ribbon tying off a few of her long 
locks, a kind of ponytail that bound a few ropelike strands of her hair 
together but left the remainder underneath free.  The effect was to make 
her look even more schoolgirlish than she already did, and all 60-year-old 
maids know where a little schoolgirl should be on a Saturday night.  Home 
preparing her lessons, so she could go to church on Sunday, both morning 
and evening, and say her rosary.  Instead Polly stood with her hiney packed 
with vaseline, her hole prepared for the men�s cocks which stood up so 
heedlessly.
         �Get the potties out for the girls,� Rose said with a refined air, as if 
we were to be entertained at an embassy instead of made ready for sex.  
The maid glanced at myself and Polly and, as we stood hoping to claim 
seats for ourselves, waiting only for Rose�s permission, she brought out 
two children�s potties and sat them down on the top of a dresser along the 
back wall.  I blanched.  I think I felt my blood rush to my face and my toes 
simultaneously, with all parts between equally pink.  Were we to sit up on 
the dresser?  The men�s chairs, I saw, were angled to give them a perfect 
view of the potties.  The maid brought a stepstool out of the closet and 
sat it down in front of the dresser.
         Rose, swishing her cane, turned to myself and Polly.  �Girls, do you 
have to go to the bathroom?� she asked.  Polly and I quickly shook our 
heads no.  �Well, then you�ll just have to sit on the potty until you do,� she 
smiled.  We looked at her with woebegone eyes and nervously constricted 
throats.  �Married women have sat on them,� Rose said.  �You two are 
practically �of age� by comparison.  Don�t worry, I�ll hold your hand as you 
mount the stool.  I don�t want you to fall.  Once you�re settled on the potty 
you won�t have any worries.  The dresser is nice and big.  Come, girls, I 
want to make sure you�re both toilet trained before I put you to bed for the 
night!�  
         She urged us both forward.  Then she had me step on the stool first, 
minding me to be ladylike, and she watched as, with her fingers touching 
my handcuffs, keeping me balanced, I stepped with a well-lifted knee up 
onto the dresser.  The maid stood nearby, her eyes prying into me like a 
lesbian�s.  Involuntarily I showed off my sex with my movements.  Raising 
up each of my legs, I felt nervous under her gaze, like a showhorse about 
to be put to stud.  My males sat nearby, gazing wishfully at my cunt.  It 
felt incredibly open, swollen with yearning.  Finally standing where all 
could see me as intimately as they wished, my pussy above their heads, 
my feet firmly planted on the dresser, I blushed anew.  I felt like a model 
hired out to med students to teach them the female reproductive system.  
There�d be no cold cadavers today.  We�d make a clinical assessment of an 
actual girl, watching her, probing her, making her cum for us so we could 
learn all aspects of her most completely.  In our coats, with our 
spectacles on and our headlamps lit, shining into her privates.  I turned 
and faced the toilet.  There it was, just like I remembered sitting on as a 
child, except I was 14 now!  Gracefully as I could I turned my fanny to it 
and sat down on the seat.  I tried not to think of having a bowel movement.
         �Lift your legs, draw up your knees to your chin,� Rose told me.  I 
saw that there were footrests running out like wings from the sides of my 
toilet.  Sticking out just far enough, they were adorned at each end by a 
little hole through which I might, if I was utterly foolish, stick the spikes 
on my pumps.  Under Rose�s watchful gaze I drew up my heels until they 
were level with my bottom.  Then, carefully, I fitted each of my heeled 
spikes into the hole provided for it.  I felt the spikes slip down like long 
nipples into the clamplike holes.  I realized that, with my arms cuffed 
behind me, I stood little chance of extricating my legs without Rose�s 
permission.  Gazing down, I saw my cunt was widely displayed, my thighs 
not blocking it at all.  I turned redfaced once more and could do nothing as 
the maid glared at me with ravenous eyes.
         Polly was seated in turn upon her toilet.  We sat shivering, our 
honeypots lewdly displayed, our tits quivering, their roundness brazenly 
offered by our contorted postures.  Our nipples stuck up like pins atop our 
balloon-like tits, perhaps hoping to stab the maid�s fingers should she 
choose to touch us.
         �Pee when you like,� Rose told us, taking a chair for herself, not 
needing a comforter.  �We�ll enjoy it when you do.�  She asked the maid to 
bring stiff drinks for us all.  �To ease the men�s sore bottoms, and serve 
as anesthesia for what the girls must endure,� Rose declared.  �And for 
myself too, to fortify me for the night ahead.�  She laid her cane across 
her knees.  They still hid within her dress, the only modesty remaining 
amongst us, the combatants for love.
         �Oh, what is to happen to us?� Polly asked when the maid loosened 
her gag and tugged it bib-like beneath her chin.  Before Rose could lift her 
eyes from her own drink to answer, the maid was already forcing Polly to 
swallow a glassful of liquor.  �Yuck!  It tastes terrible!� Polly confessed.  
At the restaurant she�d pretended to sip the drink Andre ordered for her.  
Now she made no attempt to hide her displeasure.
         �Drink it down!� the maid ordered.  Polly gasped and received another 
mouthful of gin.  She spluttered.  Some went down, the rest splattered 
itself in droplets over her tits.  The maid brought the cup to me and 
insisted I drink some too.  She plucked Polly�s panties from my mouth and 
held them while I leaned my head forward.  I did my best to swallow down 
the drink.  In truth, I didn�t like it much either.  The maid swallowed the 
rest herself.  She did not stuff Polly�s panties back into my mouth.  
Instead, she lay them in a little saliva-wet ball next to me, on the surface 
of the dresser.  I did not mind, but it seemed strange.  Was I to lecture, 
from my perch here atop the potty seat?  Were we to be fed dinner?  Baby 
food, perhaps, strained so we could feed on it with little fuss, while we 
pooped and pissed into our potties?
         Rose smiled, thanked the maid, told her to remain in the room, 
standing over by the corner closest to the door.  The men, amazed at the 
sight of Polly and myself, fondled their hard-ons.  Rose warned them not 
to cum.  All three, plus the maid, waited for Polly and I to pee.
         �It is hot here now in the summertime,� Rose said, making small 
talk, though all three kept their eyes on me, on Polly.  �I let my guests 
swim naked, during the day, in the pool.  Before I felt they should wear 
swimsuits.  Many of the girls are from the best families.  I did not wish 
them to expose themselves in front of the field hands.  After all, this is a 
working farm.  The help has work they must do each day, planting the 
crops and tending them, harvesting them in the fall.  It seemed 
inappropriate to me to have the girls baring their all in front of peasants.  
But they bugged me about leaving their panties and bras off, so I finally 
allowed it.  The bras, of course, were just my little rule.  Those silly 
decency laws!  I�m glad they were repealed.  South American girls should 
be able to go topless on their beaches if they want to.  But here, at the 
pool, I wanted to make the girls more conscious of themselves.  
Sometimes a breast halter is necessary to teach a girl that she�s 
sensitive and can sag someday if she doesn�t take care of herself.�
         �Well, you don�t sag,� Louis grinned.  He gazed at her breasts with 
open admiration.
         �I had a strict mother who always made me wear a bra,� Rose 
replied.  �But the girls today, they want so much to be free.  They want to 
feel a part of nature.  So last summer I let them take their bras off, and 
this summer its the bottoms that have come off too.  Now they look like 
little Indians out by the pool, splashing around all day.  We built a baby 
pool this year and they simply love it.  You can see them paddling around in 
it with their waterwings on, as if they were children in preschool, or 
lying on a towel sucking their thumb and hoping someone will notice them.  
I think they enjoy showing themselves off to the field hands, with nothing 
hidden, knowing the field hands can never have them.  I do not allow 
mixing or fraternization between the two groups.�  She laughed.  �God 
knows, there�s enough swapping and mixing just between the paying 
guests, without letting the field hands in on it too!�
         Louis looked at me.  �Keep her in a bra and panties if you let her use 
the pool,� he said.  �I want her breasts and bottom white so I can paint on 
them with a whip.  I like to see the contrast, the red and the white.  Make 
sure she always is covered if she goes outside.�
         Rose smiled.  �Louis, you have such a wicked eye for detail.  Of 
course that�s the real reason I wished to keep my girls covered up, so you 
could see the swats on their bottoms when they were spanked.  Perhaps I 
should be more strict, then, hmmm?  Not let them play nude in the pool?�
         �Be more strict,� Louis answered, still gazing at me.  He sipped his 
drink.  His fingers ran up and down his cock, lightly, toying with himself 
to ease his penile tension, yet not too much, lest he spurt right onto the 
carpet.
         �I�ll make sure Fleury is always modest outdoors, then,� Rose 
agreed.  �And how about you, Andre?  Do you wish to keep Polly�s privates 
nice and white so you can see your handiwork more clearly when you flog 
her?�
         �Yes,� Andre nodded.  Polly squirmed on her potty seat.  I saw she 
was about to blurt out words of disapproval.  I turned my head to her.  I 
caught her eye.  Despite my fright I tried to ease her own.  Silently, for we 
were being watched.  She looked at me, I at her.  We shared sympathies 
with our eyes.  Surely they would not mistreat us.  Louis had merely 
fucked me, a boyfriend and girlfriend exploring the newness of each 
others� bodies.  And Andre had not abused her.  I hoped we were just being 
treated a little here, teased.  Something different, something new.  Yes, 
the paddling had hurt.  Being bent over by Rose, whacked on my fanny.  Yet 
I�d felt a kind of delirium as it was done.  I was so mortified, with the 
maid watching, so shocked, and yet so free, so female.  My breasts had felt 
like love balloons, bouncing their fulsomeness beneath me.  My bottom had 
seemed to blossom under the punishment, my cheeks reddening like roses, 
dewy springtime in my nest.  And the men watching.  Their eyes fixed on 
me.  Christ�s Second Coming would not have torn their gaze away.  For a 
moment, I was the absolute center of their universe.  Just me, the mother 
goddess-girl, in total command of them despite my suffering.  
         Rose talked about last winter.  The men listened, enjoying her voice, 
looking at her sometimes, or just sitting with her and admiring Polly and 
I, perched on our potty seats.  I studied the wallpaper.  So expensive, and 
all devoted to me, at the moment, and Polly.  There were rich shades of red 
interwoven with paler yellows, and pinks.  A chandelier above our heads 
sparkled crystalline light upon our bodies.  The maid stood mute.  She 
watched Polly, myself, like a schoolmarm after school supervising study 
hall delinquents.  Polly�s soft young breasts, rising so nicely to impudent 
points, their tips hard with excitement, rose and fell on her slim chest.  
My own cones offered the same spectacle, my teats thrust forward by my 
manacles, lifting with my inward breaths, dropping slightly when I 
exhaled, jiggling their fleshiness with girlish allure.  The soft, 
imperceptible swell of my belly wished for babies.  The maid studied my 
navel.  How many young had she birthed?  She might have been pretty once, 
but the exertions of bearing young had worn her down finally, stretching 
her, filling her, increasing her size and her girth.  I doubted she�d known 
birth control.  Each new year brought its season of spring, her belly 
blooming full just as the new flowers opened.  Summer�s heat saw her in 
the maternity shed, out back, grunting as she gave yet one more baby to 
the world.  I wished to know how Rose�s farm hands lived.  I knew a little, 
from my travels.  But I wanted to live amongst them, rise in the morning 
with the dawning sun and toil all day under the master�s lash, bedding 
down finally to the demands of my husband�s penis.  Such dreamy thoughts 
I had, sitting bound upon the child�s potty.  I think, at that moment, for 
Louis, I would gladly have worked under his guidance for the rest of my 
life.  He would be the man of the plantation, I would be his willing slave.  
He would train me to work in the fields and watch as I stooped over to 
pick each little flowering cotton bud, the breeze lifting my short, thin 
dress and exposing my bottom.  Would he let me have panties?  I doubted 
it.  He would watch me and use me and grow strong from my labor.  He 
would be the richest man in Georgia, and I, for a little while, in my 
budding youth, I would be his peach.  And when he left me for another girl 
I�d sneak into his room at night and stab him with a dagger, just as he�d 
stabbed me so many fruitful times with himself.
         The men finished their drinks and the maid refilled their glasses.  
Rose watched their carefree abandon, sitting with their punishment 
forgotten on their frilled comforters.  They had a better seat than I, 
sitting on a hard plastic potty.  I envied them.  My arms were starting to 
ache.  I wanted to flex them, to move about.  My thighs felt okay.  Between 
them I trembled, though, wishing for touches the law didn�t allow.  Here I 
hoped the law wouldn�t prevail.  Rose made her own rules.  I watched her 
with obedience showing in my eyes.  I would do her bidding.  She would 
test me, would satisfy me.  Surely it would not be more than I could stand.  
She herself looked fine, her hair neatly curled, her bosom impressive, her 
toes peeking out from beneath her long flowing dress.
         �Men, I really don�t approve of you playing with yourselves,� Rose 
said finally.  The men looked up.  They were both in mid-gulp with their 
newly poured drinks, their hands on their penises, lightly stroking 
themselves.  The maid slipped into the bedroom a moment, then returned 
with two extra large Penis Pumpers.  Rose took them from her.  �If you 
men insist on having stimulation, then I�m really going to have to insist 
you use these,� Rose said brightly.  
         Louis and Andre looked at the glass cylinders.  They were long and 
hollow and open at one end.  Within each was a detachable rubber condom.  
I realized a man could insert himself, ejaculate into the condom, and then 
simply dispose of it when done.  But what was the rubber tubing running 
down from the tip of each glass?  At its closed, snouted end, this tube ran 
out, leash-like, until it ended in a rubber inflation ball.  It reminded me of 
a blood pressure cuff, except it wouldn�t be putting pressure on your arm.
         �I�ve never even used one of those,� Louis scoffed.  Andre had a 
slightly guilty look on his face.  He was shy compared to Louis, though 
built just as well.  Had he been left alone on a Saturday night or two?  I 
glanced at Polly.  She was looking down into her potty bowl.  �There�s 
nothing in there unless you put it there,� I wanted to say to her, but I kept 
quiet instead.  I was intrigued by the newfound plight of the men.
         �This is a place for doing new things,� Rose said quietly.  She stood 
up and walked over to the men.  Her dress swished with refined grace.  If 
her boobs hadn�t been joggling nakedly on her chest you might have thought 
you were in an office with her.  She knelt and laid Andre�s pumper aside 
for a moment, on the floor.  She took the pumper intended for Louis and 
frankly stuck his cock into it, first capturing him at the head like a 
botanist might bag a butterfly with a net, then sliding all of him into the 
tube with effort, as if putting in a snake.  Louis watched, holding his drink 
up to his chin, wanting to drink it but too mesmerized to remember it.  
Andre�s cock stood up proudly.  He seemed unhappy at being put into the 
tube, but there was noplace he could hide his stemming organ.  Rose did 
him next, gripping his shaft and jamming him all the way into the pump.  
Then she returned to her chair, trailing out the tubing behind her.  She sat 
down primly, holding an inflation ball in each of her charming hands.  Her 
eyelashes fluttered.  She smiled at Louis and Andre.
         �Ready, boys?� she asked.  With delicate fingers she squeezed the 
balls.  
         �Whoa,� Louis blurted, feeling the first pangs of pleasure as the 
sheath in the glass gripped him more tightly.  �It feels just like a cunt.�
         �It�s supposed to,� Rose smiled.  She squeezed the balls in her hands 
rhythmically.  With each new squish of them the men felt yet more 
pressure upon their cocks.  Louis� face turned red.  He was like a virgin, 
experiencing this particular depravity for the first time.  I was delighted I 
could see him in his newborn state, with no preconceptions, none of his 
cynical moods.  This was real, he�d never felt it, and it had him not by the 
balls but by his most precious asset of all, his dong.  Andre had a little 
smile on his face, as if to say, �Ah, yes.  I remember this.  It made me feel 
guilty, but it got rid of my blue balls.�  I giggled and looked at Polly.  She 
stared wide-eyed.  She did not notice Andre�s guilt.  She was just a child.  
She had seen so little in life she could not pick up the nuances an adult 
like me could.  Well, I was only a year older than her, but I was ahead of 
her, that was for sure.  As she sat enthroned on the Potty, wondering at 
her fate, I tried to feel more secure.  I was with the man I loved.  
Shouldn�t that be enough?  Polly was too, but she felt a child�s love, a 
marvelling kind of love that was unreflected upon, like a girl seeing her 
first lollipop.  I�d tasted lollipops and liked them.  
         Our twin popsicle boys were up to their ears in pressure.  They 
gritted their teeth, watching with fretful eyes as Rose gave yet more 
pumps to the little balls in her hands.  She proceeded slowly now, letting 
each man savor the interval, if he could, wondering if each pump would be 
her last, hoping it would be.
         Squish!  Rose gave a final squeeze, or so I hoped, to the balls.  She 
grinned at the men with the smile of a contented cat.  They would not dare 
disobey her now.  �I hope you don�t drink too much,� Rose said, as the men 
ordered more liquor from the maid, to ease their sweating brows.  �After 
all, you�ll need my permission to pee.  I don�t really think you want to try 
going inside those things, do you?  It would just add to the pressure, if 
your urine could come out at all!�  Louis nodded, grunted.  �Just try to get 
used to it, Louis.  Andre�s been there before, haven�t you, Andre?�
         �I never pumped mine up this much,� Andre confessed.
         �Well, you�re in a ladies� hands now,� Rose replied.  �You men, when 
you masturbate you do just as you please, don�t you?  My, my, that�s no 
way to have fun.  You must put yourself in a woman�s hands.  Let her decide 
how fast, or how slow, how hard, or how easy.  As for me, I expect the 
most from my men.  You�re both so big and strong, and proud of your 
muscles.  Well, you�re penises mustn�t be spared.  Their training must be 
just as rigorous.  That�s why I keep these Penis Pumpers on hand.  I mean, I 
have no use for them myself, hmmm?  No, they�re just for unruly 
customers, or, sometimes, if they�re lucky, for special customers like you 
boys, big strong men used to having their way.  Well, not in my house.  The 
girls are yours to do as you please with, but we must always remember 
that between yourselves and me, I�m the one who sets the rules.�
         Louis shifted in his chair.  He flexed his arms.  They were like bull�s 
flanks, wide and muscular.  �I ought to walk over there and break your 
neck!� Louis scowled.
         Rose flinched.  Her skin was so white, so delicate, her neck rising 
from her bare shoulders constricted a moment, then eased.  �Yes, I like 
finding the very roughest men, who can still be trained, though not, 
perhaps, by others, and breaking them to my will,� she said.  Her face 
looked a little worried, but she tried to smile.  �It�s that simple, Louis.  
Andre�s no problem.  I enjoy him, who wouldn�t?  But it�s men like you I 
really seek, Louis.  O.J. types, rough and tough and not afraid to take me on.  
I guess I try to scare myself a little.  But anyway, there you have it, Louis.  
It�s better to be truthful, I suppose.  You could probably leap right up and 
strangle me, and kill everyone here to hide your crime, but that�s what 
draws me to you, Louis.  Please don�t spoil it for me.  Play along a little.  
Rein in your lust and your anger.�
         Like music in the ears of a savage beast, her high-pitched, lilting 
voice, so cultured, so civilized, seemed to quiet Louis� lust, though it did 
nothing to ease the condition of his erection.  Perhaps he�d been looking 
for her.  A woman who could find just the right way to break him.  I felt 
immensely jealous, but knew I was learning too.  I tried to copy Rose�s 
poise, her shy self-assurance.  She was very admirable, I thought.  She 
could wrap men round her fingers, men other women wouldn�t dare touch, 
and make them heel.  Yes, heel.  Louis was like a big dog, one that runs 
everyday, a thick-chested doberman perhaps, all black and brooding and 
deadly.  He�d gone easy on me so far, but I knew he harbored vicious 
passions.  They might spill out of control at any moment, and then who 
knew what might happen?  If I weren�t so young, he might have abused me 
already.  Instead, he�d loved me with restraint, but it was a caged kind of 
restraint, the kind an executioner shows to a prisoner before he 
despatches her.  Like Anne, I waited for my thousand days to be up.  
Perhaps that�s what drew me to him, his awfulness, his pirate nature.  As 
a little girl I�d snuck into a lion�s cage once, crept close.  He�d yawned, 
watching me.  I�d yearned to stick my little head in his mouth, just once, 
to impress myself with my boldness.  My girlfriend had watched, too 
scared to come into the cage with me.  As I contemplated my chances of 
dying or living the keeper came, shouted, rescued me from the cage.  I�d 
only been three, but I knew loins weren�t just storybook friends.  Girls 
could get eaten by them.  I watched as he shut the cage door, made very 
sure it was locked.  Now I was inside the cage again.  Society had locked 
the door, most firmly.  There were hotlines and neighbor patrols and 
community meetings, but I�d slipped into the cage again, found a loose 
latch, exploited it.  And here I was, showing my cunt, so bad, yet loving 
how the men eyed me.  Despite their imprisoned dongs they were looking 
at myself and Polly again, watching us breathe, watching our titties 
jiggle.  Did they long to spurt in us?  I knew they must.
         I heard a tinkling sound.  My face twisted to the side, my eyes 
confronted my companion.
         �Polly, you�re peeing!� I hissed.
         �Of course I�m peeing!  I have to go to the bathroom!� she declared.  
She was a frank creature.  She did not understand the exquisiteness of 
trying to hold it, with the men watching.  Maybe they relished the contrast 
between us, her so artless, so unaware, me knowing more, striving to be 
mature.  As if she were in school, she peed into the bowl, her eyes 
observing the stream.  It ended with a few golden drops.  She watched 
them fall from her privates.  She looked at Rose.  �May I go now?� she 
asked.
         �You just went, dear,� Rose replied, laughing.  Polly blushed.  I felt 
my face go red too.  The maid smirked.  
         �That makes me want to go too,� Andre said.  
         �Does it?� Rose asked cheerily.  �You may do so, Andre.  Provided one 
thing...�
         �What�s that?� Andre asked.  �Just tell me.  I�ll do it.  I need to pee 
pretty badly.�
         Rose bent forward and grasped the hem of her skirt.  Lifting it up her 
legs, she said, �You must let me pee in your mouth.�
         �What?!� Andre asked, his cry echoed by Louis.  Rose got her skirt up 
above her waist and tucked it in there so it wouldn�t fall back down again 
in front.  I saw her legs were as flawless as I�d imagined them.  Long and 
sleek, with thigh-high stockings making them into sheened columns, 
statuesque.  Though I�d yet to see it, I knew her bottom must be a tight 
ball of desire, wiggling freely when she walked yet high and perfectly 
shaped, not yet broadened and fattened by children.
         �Come, Andre,� Rose said.  �Not in your pump, of course, but to me, 
dear.�  She tugged on the cord which held them together.  Andre responded.  
He got up and come to the woman who held his dong encased in the tube.  I 
smiled at his haunches.  They were striated with cane-marks, yet he 
seemed to have forgotten them, so deeply enmeshed was he in thoughts for 
his penis, held and captured by Rose and now held for ransom in return for 
a perverted act.
         Andre knelt.  Polly watched with amazed eyes.
         �Don�t worry, It�s just a game,� I assured her, though I�d never seen 
it played.
         Rose lifted her heels onto her chair.  She glanced at me, smiled.  She 
was sitting like Polly and I now, though in better comfort.  She scooted 
her bottom forward so that its forward edge might overhang the chair�s 
seat.  �Put your mouth right up to my cunt,� Polly told Andre.  �Don�t let 
any of my pee spill on the floor.�  Andre obeyed.  As his mouth drew close 
to her his breath exhaled.  Rose shivered, tossed her head back.  Like a man 
making a seal on something, Andre closed his mouth over Rose�s pussy 
tightly, perhaps hoping to repay her for the vacuum she�d slipped on his 
dick.  Rose sighed and gave a little cry.  I knew Andre�s tongue must be 
dabbling within her.  �Alright, Andre, I�m going to pee now,� Rose said.  
She looked at him as one might regard a puppy.  Andre�s cock waggled 
between his legs.
         �Urck!� emanated from Andre�s mouth, all covered up but still 
audible, the sound no doubt coming out his ears as he suddenly felt his 
mouth squirted with pee.
         �Don�t drink it, Andre.  Just let it fill your mouth.  That�s it, exhale 
and inhale through your nose.  Let your cheeks puff out.  They can hold a lot 
of fluid.  Yes, you�re a good doggie, Andre.  Let your mistress pee right into 
you.  Enjoy the taste of her flow over your tongue.  Don�t fight it.  Ahhh, 
you�re my diaper, Andre.  I love you.�  
         When Rose was finished, Andre looked like one of those puffer fish 
you see in the ocean.  She let him stand up and he looked around for 
somewhere to empty himself.  Louis exploded into laughter, seeing his 
condition.  �You should be paraded around in front of the other guests, you 
pantywaist!� Louis roared.  Andre glowered at him but could say nothing 
for fear of losing the pee.  The maid went into the bedroom, returned with 
a bowl.  It looked like it might have held candies.  
         �In here,� the maid said gruffly.  Andre put his face over the bowl.  
He seemed like a dental patient, gazing into that bowl, his cheeks swollen.  
And then, with a spluttering whoosh, he dumped his mouthful of Rose�s pee 
into it.  
         �Give him some bourbon to wash his mouth out,� Rose told the maid.  
She nodded.  She set the bowl aside, to take downstairs, and went to the 
little bar where our drinks were made.  She poured a tall glass of bourbon 
for Andre, brought two empties along for him to spit into.  Andre returned 
to his seat and gratefully received the new liquor.  He cleansed his mouth 
most thoroughly.  Rose eyed Louis.  �My bladder is filling again,� she 
warned him.  Louis frowned and decided to look down at his cock.  Rose 
eased the pressure a little, twisting the knob beneath the ball to let out 
some air.
         �Thank you,� Louis breathed.  
         �You�re being very good, Louis,� Rose complimented him.  �Shall I 
leave my dress up?  Do you like seeing my bush?�  Her voice sounded 
curious, as if she wanted a true answer, not just a lusty remark.
         �God, I love your cunt,� Louis confessed.  He looked from his own 
privates to hers.  �Take the dress off, take everything off.  Get on the 
floor and let me fuck you!�
         �I�ll start with the dress,� Rose replied.  She stood and unzipped 
herself in back.  The garment fell down, pooled round her ankles.  Daintily 
she stepped out of it.  She turned about and presented her bottom to Louis� 
eyes.  �Most men like my ass best,� she grinned.  It was perfect, round and 
upended like a bottom should be, with graceful twin cheeks that begged to 
be poked.  She bent forward and gave her tushy a little wiggle.
         �God, I could die in that ass!� Louis crowed.
         �Well, Louis, you�re about to,� Rose replied.  With a devilish grin she 
backed up to him.  As the maid picked up her dress off the floor she stuck 
her butt right into Louis� face.  I could see he was getting a brownnose, 
without even having to ask.  �Do I smell good, Louis?� Rose asked.  Louis, 
his nose apparently stuck inside her shithole, nodded as best he could.  
�Fuck me with your tongue,� Rose insisted.  �You know where.  Put it right 
in.  It will teach you a good lesson for speaking meanly to me.�
         As I watched with shocked eyes and a jealously burning heart, Louis 
introduced his tongue to Rose�s butthole.  She spread her cheeks with her 
hands and he found himself suddenly accommodated.  Had she been enlarged 
to take a man more easily there?  I did not know.  His tongue browned, 
Louis began to fuck her with it just as he might have done with his penis.  
She laughed, then cried.  Tears of joy, I guessed.  How intimate, to have 
your love clean out your butthole for you!  Louis tongued faster now, 
stabbing her repeatedly in her ass, making her moan and beg for more.  She 
forced her perfect fanny back into him more, urging him deeper.  As Andre 
watched, feeling suddenly let off easy, Louis gouged out Rose�s hole with 
his darting tongue.
         Rose slipped her hand down to her pussy and massaged her clit.  Her 
delicate, long-nailed fingers worked expertly over her own sex.  She 
shrieked with pleasure.  How odd it felt to see our discreet, cultured 
mistress pleasuring herself, while my boyfriend reamed her butt.  
Somehow, feeling a little detached, I imagined I could be seeing my own 
mother, a few years younger perhaps, getting it from my dad.  It seemed 
something I should not be seeing.  Yet it was transpiring right in front of 
me, like two parents fucking in front of baby lying in the crib.  
         Polly gave a little cough.  I looked at her, she at me.  There was an 
ersatz smile on her face.  Her teeth sparkled whitely.
         �Did you get splashed?� I asked her, looking down at her bulbing 
bottom cheeks where they hung within the potty seat.  It brimmed full 
with her pee.
         �A little,� she replied, lisping.  I could tell she wanted someone to 
finger her.  Her pussy lips puffed with temptation.  Even fingering herself 
would have been quite satisfactory, I�m sure.  I knew that�s how she�d 
usually found pleasure in life, lying in bed, dreaming, her finger busy down 
below.  
         Louis must have had something of the true gentleman in him, despite 
all his hardness, his surlyness.  For, as he strove to tongue Rose as deeply 
as possible (despite the obvious availability of his dick, which would have 
done the job much more completely) he reached to Rose�s front with his 
hand.  Gently he pulled her own sticky fingers away from herself and 
replaced them with his own much more expert ones.  His calloused, hairy 
male digits carefully rubbed her round her spot, then a little over it, 
making circles, tiny circles, doing her with care and grace like a woman 
wants it, despite the fact she was making him clean out her bottom.  Rose 
howled with throat-wrenching passion.  She placed her hand over his and 
thanked him by pressing him more deeply into her.  She abandoned herself 
to love, ramming her buttcheeks into his face again and again.  I knew then 
why I loved Louis so much.  He could be mean, and tough, and he loved to 
swagger, but when the chips were really down he gave his all, even if you 
teased and tortured him.  He fondled you and kissed you and (yes) tongued 
you, a perfect gentleman in the throes of love, despite all that had gone 
before; the barbs, the slights, the arguments, the slaps and (if you 
provoked him enough) the beatings.  And, looking at his cock, I knew the 
night wouldn�t end simply with him tongue-fucking her.  She, or somebody, 
was going to get Louis� glorious dick rammed right up her.  Then he would 
be rough again, slamming himself into you and making you groan and 
making your body creak like all your bones would crack, until at last you 
lay under him puddle-like, all teary and honeyed and spent.
         The maid ignored Rose�s wanton cries.  She freed Andre from his 
cock-tube, as his reward for being a human urinal for her mistress.  Andre, 
his face delirious with delight at finally having his cock back, sank into 
his chair with its comforter and just sat a moment, staring at his 
erection, savoring how it swayed hugely above his crotch, as if saying, 
�Free at last!  Free at last!  Thank god I�m free at last.�  Cocks couldn�t 
speak, of course, but his seemed like it wished to.  His balls tremored 
underneath, his nuts swamped with sperm, hoping soon to ejaculate it.
         Her skirts bustling round her, the maid approached us.  She did not 
look at us.  We were nothing to her.  She placed a hand on the front of 
Polly�s potty and to my surprise I saw the front of it open.  The maid 
reached in and pulled out the bowl which held Polly�s pee.  She left with 
it, went downstairs.  A minute later she returned with a clean bowl and 
put it in where the other had been.  She snapped the front of Polly�s toilet 
shut.  Then she opened the front of my potty.  She took out my bowl and 
looked inside.  There was nothing there.  I still held my pee inside me.  She 
put my bowl back, closed up my toilet, and returned to her corner where 
she waited to serve us.
         Rose finished her course with Louis.  I heard footsteps on the stairs.  
The young girl who had served us earlier appeared.  She held a plateful of 
steaming hot towels.  A metal cover was over them, but the fat maid 
lifted it up, took out a towel, and went over to Louis.  She wiped his face 
as a mom might clean up her five-year-old, fresh from the backyard mud.  
The young maid departed.  I watched her go.  I wished she would stay.  I 
liked her better than the old one.  
         Standing, nude but for her stockings and pumps, Rose walked to the 
plateful of towels.  Her hips swung with fulfillment.  She had a gorgeous 
bottom, all round and boldly jiggling, with a free, swaying grace that 
announced she was a woman.  She took a towel for herself, walked back to 
the men, and spoke quietly and cheerfully to them as she stood before 
them, toweling off her privates.  Then she wiped Andre�s dick with her 
towel to clean him up a little too.  He�d been drooling precum like a baby 
drools spittle, watching her and Louis get it on.  
         �It�s time to get you out of that horrid Pumper, Louis,� Rose laughed 
to him.  She knelt before him, gradually released the pressure in the tube, 
and then drew it off him.  She tilted the tube to her eye and looked inside 
to make sure Louis hadn�t spent any of his sperm in it.  �Just precum,� 
Rose said approvingly.  The maid brought a towel and Rose wiped down 
Louis like she might do a horse, loving and cherishing his erection, making 
me jealous.  I could do nothing but watch.  My hands were still bound 
tightly behind me, locked in hard police steel, leaving my titties and pussy 
to whomever might wish to plunder them.  I felt tender and vulnerable.  I 
had no protection if one of them should choose to do something awful to 
me.  
         Rose gazed at me with cat�s eyes when she was done wiping my 
boyfriend.  �Fleury, you�re proving quite a champion today, holding back 
your pee,� she said to me.  �But I�m afraid I�m going to have to encourage 
you a little.  Polly�s peed, and me too.  Now it�s your turn.�  She approached 
me.  Beyond, the maid brought empty, narrow-necked liquor bottles for the 
men.
         �What are these for?� I heard Louis ask.  Rose turned, looked back 
over her shoulder.  �Don�t you have to go?  Put your penis tip to the open 
neck of the bottle and see if you can fill it with dandelion wine, as we call 
it here.  I�ll make a girl drink it if you do.  Some girl you don�t even know.  
Piss in the bottle and fill it up for her.  When you�re gone, off at your job 
or elsewhere, you can remember your homemade bottle of wine here, and 
know that some female will be made to cherish every drop.  Piss, Louis.  A 
fine penis like yours must make excellent pee.�  
         With that inspiration, Louis wedged the bulbous nose of his cock up 
against the open bottleneck and lustily let loose his urine.  Andre did the 
same.  Rose returned her gaze to me and put her fingers to my pussy.  
Lightly she tickled me.
         �Doon�t!� I cried.  Beyond her I saw my boyfriend peeing, and Polly�s, 
and suddenly she started a stream of her own.  Rose put a hand between 
her own legs and, standing there before me, suddenly began peeing on the 
carpet.  The maid rushed forward to catch what she could.  I guessed she�d 
be the one to have to clean the rug.  
         �Pee with us,� Rose urged, tickling my cunny.
         �No, I, it�s too perverted,� I gasped.  I did not want to be a full-
grown girl of 14 peeing like a two-year old on a plastic potty.  I felt a 
bubbling within me.  I could not hold it!  Suddenly, peeing over her fingers, 
I made my offering.  Rose smiled.  No more words were exchanged.  We 
stared at each other, then both looked down into the bowl as my pee came 
out.  It was utterly decadent.  The moment seemed to last forever, the men 
peeing behind Rose, she herself wetting the carpet, the maid scrambling to 
get down between her legs with a teapot, the only thing she�d had to grab 
when Rose suddenly decided to go; and Polly, childishly peeing into her 
potty with not the slightest reservation.  It was a potty, after all, and she 
was a girl who wished to go.  
         In a few moments all our bladders were empty.  The men sat back 
down in their chairs.  The young maid appeared, took their bottles away, 
inspecting the contents and thanking them for their contribution to the 
estate.  The men�s urine would brood in chilled wine cellars, next to 
expensive wines, until they were ripe and ready to drink.  The finest pee-
wine, aged to perfection, from men with impressive dongs and girl would 
beg to have put up her.  
         The older maid withdrew the teapot from between Rose�s legs.  She 
brought a hot towel for Rose to wipe her hand on.  Rose cleaned her 
fingers.  Then she let the maid withdraw my bowel and, when it was gone, 
she reached between my legs and toweled me with the hot towel.  After 
she�d done me, and the maid had taken Polly�s bowl away, she towelled 
Polly too.  We both squirmed at the feeling of the towel, so steamy and 
hot, touching us in our most erotic parts.  Polly let out a little yelp of 
pleasure as her own spot was cleansed and aroused.  I guessed Rose might 
be preparing us for the next step.  Being fucked.  It could not be delayed 
much longer.  The men were hard beyond belief, trembling with their 
hugely swollen balls, desperate to cum.  Polly and I had been teased and 
tormented to distraction.  Only Rose seemed calm.  Perhaps that�s why she 
had gone first.  Being done with her orgasm, she could now cooly play the 
ringmistress to the rest of us.  Yes, that must be it.  She�d used Louis to 
bring her off so she could more accurately guide he and I as we did it, and 
Andre and Polly.  That was our purpose here, wasn�t it?  To be mated.  To 
make love to each other as we never had before.
         Rose lifted each of my heels out of the little holes on either side of 
the potty which held them aloft.  She set my feet down on the dresser.  I 
felt sensible again, not all exposed like some underage tart, dreaming of 
being broken by the overseer out in the fields or in the stables.  Rose took 
a key from the dresser and reached around behind me and unlocked my 
handcuffs.
         Oh, how wonderful it felt!  I lifted my arms and rubbed my wrists 
and inspected them.  There were red marks where they handcuffs had 
bound them.  �Stand up,� Rose said.  She took the tips of my fingers and 
helped me rise up from the toilet.  With her hands guiding me I stepped 
down from the dresser.  Then, she made me pause, a finger touched to one 
of my nipples.  She took Polly�s panties from the dresser top and smiled at 
me and told me to open my mouth.
         Oh, God!  I did not want to.  But, somehow, I let her urge my teeth 
apart, and she replaced the panties in my mouth.  �Go to Andre,� she said.  
I shook my head no.  My eyes were wide with disapproval.  �Yes, Andre,� 
she insisted.  �I�ll not have any opportunities wasted.  He has a fine penis 
and I want you on it.  Polly will have your lover this first night.  You are 
still a slave, my darling.  Go to Andre and take hold of his penis.  Don�t let 
him cum, or put it in you.  Just hold it possessively like you would Louis�, 
and I�ll be with you momentarily.�
         I obeyed.  Trembling, looking straight into Louis� eyes as I walked to 
Andre, who stood to receive me, I walked with swinging hips and naked, 
jiggling tits.  I clasped Andre�s penis as, somewhere behind me, Polly let 
out a squeak of dismay.  
         �Yes, Polly, she will have your wonderful boyfriend.  But you will 
have Louis,� Rose told her.
         �I don�t want Louis.  He�s too mean,� Polly insisted.  But Rose 
replaced her bra over her mouth and tightened it so that no more could be 
heard from her.  She loosed her handcuffs and made her stand and guided 
her, wobbly-legged, her breasts bobbing like tennis balls on her chest, 
down from the dresser.  Rose led her over to Louis and Polly looked for all 
the world like a first-grader being brought into the schoolhouse to meet 
her new teacher.  Louis received her with a groping hug and kissed her 
deeply.  Polly squealed unhappily as his broad palms gripped and explored 
her angel bottom.  Andre patted mine.  I knew how they both wanted us.  
They�d conspired together, I realized, and decided they must both have our 
buttholes.  Polly�s was already prepared.  Rose turned me around and 
helped Andre part my cheeks.  The maid brought vaseline and as I stood 
there, watching Polly embrace my boyfriend in a prolonged kiss, my 
asshole was prepared for fucking.
         �Time for bed, gang!� Rose said cheerily when I�d been readied for 
love.  Andre and Louis marched myself and Polly back into the little girl�s 
bedroom.  �Up on the bed, girls,� Rose ordered.  Together Polly and I 
scrambled up on it, not wanting to, but having to.  Rose got out her whippy 
cane just in case we disobeyed.  �Heads on the pillows, bottoms high,� she 
said.  I gulped.  I prayed a fucking was all we were getting.  Breathing hard 
with nervousness, Polly and I both crouched on the bed.  Our heads bumped, 
then our hips.  We were sisters of mercy, about to milk our men, and I 
hoped they�d be merciful.
         Rose untied Polly�s bra from her head and drew it off.  �Oh, I want to 
go home!� Polly declared at once.  Rose turned her attention to me and 
removed the panties from my mouth.
         �Kiss for luck,� Rose told us.  We turned and looked back at her over 
the naked spheres of our heart-spit asses.  
         �Mayn�t I please go home?� Polly repeated.  Rose gave no answer.  
Instead she swung her cane in and caught us both at once in a sweeping 
stroke that burned into the tenderest, choicest part of our bottoms, right 
on the underside of our cheeks, where they meet with our thighs.
         �Ooohoooo!� Polly and I both cried together, gasping into each other�s 
open mouths.  Then, realizing we�d misbehaved, and that there was no 
escape, we jammed our faces into each other and kissed for all we were 
worth.  
         �Very good,� Rose complimented.  �You�ll need each other, girls.  Get 
acquainted and comfort each other.�  She turned and took vaseline from 
the drawer of the nightstand and began greasing up the men.  Oh, how I 
wished to be the one to lube those manly genitals, but the privilege fell to 
Rose.  I was left with kissing little Polly, both of us nervous and scared.  
Someday, perhaps, I�d get to have my own castle and entertain studs, but 
right now I was still just an eighth-grader, out at night when I should be 
home studying.  Would my mom worry about me?  Suddenly I wished to be 
with her instead of here, nasty as she was, doing my chores and being a 
good daughter.  But it was too late, too late!
         The bed creaked.  Polly and I felt ourselves bounce upon it as both 
Louis and Andre got in with us.  Their cocks were enormous and Polly and 
I, wriggling our cane-struck bottoms, tried to peek back at them as we 
kept on kissing each other, lest we be smacked again.  The men kneed their 
way forward like roosters, proud and tall and with penises stemming.  I 
felt a bulbous cock-nose wedge itself into my indwelling bottomcrack.  A 
bump against my anus.  I remembered Max, his torments with quinine and 
dildoes, that had come so close to splitting apart my behind.  Now danger 
loomed again, though it was natural cockflesh, hard and pulsing and 
definitely wielded by a male who would not be denied.
         Polly cried in alarm as she felt Louis test her virgin hole.  Oh, I 
pitied her.  She had never had this before.  Louis would be relentless, I 
feared.  He was hungry as a tiger and his thing was gigantic.  I heard Louis 
grunt as he forced his peehole into her, wedging her hole wide with his 
flaring penis head.
         �No, no, no, no, I want to go hoooome!� Polly begged.
         �Quiet, bitch!� Louis snarled.  His voice sent a shiver of terrible fear 
down my own spine, and I was not even receiving him.  Polly began crying.  
I shouted as Andre found me receptive and pushed his cock into me like a 
hard bolt being slammed into a lock.  I guess Max�s training had done a 
little to ease my tightness, if only at the psychological level.  
Instinctively I�d let my cheeks part to receive Andre, not even conscious 
of it, thanks to the long hours in Max�s basement with a fake dong up my 
butt.  
         Polly had no such training.  She compressed her valentine cheeks as 
tight as she could, crying all the while.  Louis rammed her hard, making no 
headway.  In frustration he rose from her bottom.  He got off the bed, 
rocking it, his cock bitterly hard between his legs, swinging with febrile 
male impatience.  He presented his erection to Rose.  �She�s impossible,� 
he said.  �Bend over.  I cannot wait.�  
         Rose smiled.  She turned around and presented her ass to Louis.  She 
bent double and placed her delicate hands on her ankles.  �Not in my 
bottom, please,� she said.  �I have to take someone else there, later this 
evening, and he always fucks me quite hard.�
         �I don�t care,� Louis answered.
         �Louis!� Rose cried in dismay.  He took her in her ass even as I felt 
Andre ensconce himself to the full in me and begin to saw away.  Polly 
knelt beside me, her face in her hands, weeping.  Her bottom remained 
poised just as it had been before.  The men worked Rose and I, forcing 
themselves in very deep, then drawing back, almost popping out of us, only 
to slam in again.  I croaked and groaned and heard Rose moaning where she 
stood victimlike on the floor, still neat in her heels, her hair nicely 
coiffed, but twisted right over so that her lips kissed her knees.  
         �Please, just cum!� I begged Andre.  He was drilling in and out of me 
like a maniac, delighted to find I�d been trained to show the least 
resistance to anal penetration.  
         �God, you�re so tight!  And yet, you know how to receive me, to work 
with me instead of against me,� Andre marvelled.  He shafted himself 
repeatedly in my buns, admiring his glistening cock on the outstroke, 
relishing its penetration when he thrust his hips forward again.
         �You should date more -- more older girls!� I gasped.  �We know how 
to dolooo it!�  I was losing my ability to speak properly, he was buggering 
me so vigorously.  Beside me, Polly in her innocence kept her face hidden.  
Her lofted bottom squeezed tight as it could to keep any men from 
attempting it.  But I knew what that would get her.  I said nothing.  I was 
being fucked all the way to the promised land and back again, all in my 
little hole.
         �Louis!  Enough!  Spurt, please!� Rose begged my boyfriend.  �I can�t 
take anymore!�  He hammered her mercilessly.  Perhaps Polly had been 
right to deny him, though she�d surely pay for it later, with pain across 
her bottom instead of inside it.
         �I want to cum but I�m so hard I can�t,� Louis said gleefully, each 
word exploding separately from his mouth, like shells from a cannon.  Rose 
screamed, high-pitched.  Louis growled like a lion and his buttcheeks 
flexed tight.  Somehow, just as with Polly�s bottom, though I couldn�t see 
with my eyes yet I could sense all just by hearing.  She was tight as a 
kitten, too young to fuck, Rose was split wide and enduring, Louis� 
buttcheeks contracted to tight little buns as he now spewed his sperm 
into her backside.  I was tight and loose at the same time, naturally tight 
but trained to give way to the penis.  Andre shouted and I knew his 
beautiful white buns were squeezing themselves together, just as Louis� 
were, for suddenly I felt a wet gushing come shooting up my fanny.
         Within a few minutes all was done.  Our teasing had climaxed.  We 
shuddered down from the heights of bliss to a sweat-sheened aftermath.  I 
reached for Polly and kissed her mouth, lifting it from her hands, as her 
boyfriend withdrew himself from me.
         �It was good, Polly, it was really good, you should try it sometime,� 
I said to her maliciously.  She whimpered and tried to resist my kisses, 
but was too awed by her circumstances to do so.  She kept her bottom 
poised, naughtily, I thought, as if to beg for what she�d just refused.  Did 
she want it or not?  I could not tell.  I don�t think she knew.  Rose stood 
and brushed back her long hair, turned and kissed Louis.  Andre kissed my 
back, then my bottom, as I engaged Polly in a deep, feminine kiss, a kiss 
between sisters, though we were just friends.
         �Let us have some refreshments,� Rose said, parting at last from 
Louis.  �I can stay a little longer before I have to go meet some more 
guests.  Saturday�s a busy night, you know.  But it�s been wonderful 
meeting you, Louis.  You fuck like a monster.  Somehow I�ll have to talk my 
next guest out of taking me up my ass.�
         �It�s your ass, not mine,� Louis replied callously.  I trembled.  It was 
that carefree callousness that attracted me to him, yet it left me sure I�d 
find myself by the roadside someday, abandoned, pregnant with his child, 
while he went off to sow his seed elsewhere, a Johnny Appleseed of love.
         Rose led us back into the private parlor.  I drew up Polly from her 
posture of submission and she walked with me, holding my hand tightly, 
knowing she would probably have to pay for her disobedience on the bed.  
Rose sat back down in her chair, queenlike, and the men returned to their 
own comforter-clad seats.  Rose rang for the maid and had her bring out 
two more comforters, one for her newly fucked ass and one for me.  Polly 
was made to sit down with her bottom right on the rug.  I got to sit beside 
her, on the rug, but with a comforter under me since I�d given up my anal 
privacy to Andre.
         Punch was brought, liquor-laced, to ease us and make us feel 
comfortable.  Mine tasted good.  Polly liked hers.  Rose smiled, sipped her 
punch.  The men expressed a need to pee again and Rose told them to finish 
their punch, then pee in their empty glasses.
         �Now Polly, you will have to relax those bottomcheeks and get over 
your inhibitions,� Rose told the girl.  Polly looked up at Rose, her eyes 
wide above the rim of her glass of punch, sipping it down slowly, watching 
as the floating orange peel in her cup drifted beneath her snub little nose.  
�You see, when you�ve been caned, then you�ll be thinking so much about 
how your bottom hurts that you won�t be able to resist a man up your hole.  
It�s quite necessary, really.  Men deserve to be able to fuck your bottom 
and you may as well let me get you going here, at the castle.  I realize 
Louis might have been a little rough with you, but don�t let that scare you.  
He was desperate, that�s all.  I took care of him, as it turned out.�  Rose 
shifted uncomfortably on her comforter.  She touched her bottom with her 
fingers.  �Really, Louis, that was awfully hard.  I�m lucky I�m not 
bleeding.�
         �You�re lucky you�re not dead!� Louis chortled.
         �You scare me sometimes, Louis,� Rose answered.  The maid set 
down a potty next to Polly for us to share.  She got on it, perhaps hoping to 
escape the whipping Rose was proposing to her.
         �My cup is full,� Andre announced, looking down at his empty punch 
glass.  It held his pee now, right to the brim.  
         �Empty it for him, Matilda,� Rose told the maid.  She took his glass, 
brought another.  I wondered at her silence.  She was so big and fat and 
old, so gnarly.  Again I felt embarrassment at being nude in front of her, 
but there seemed to be nothing I could do about it.  As Polly peed into the 
potty I looked around for something to wrap myself in, saw nothing.
         Rose let a silence obtain.  Her voice quieted, Polly�s pee filling the 
potty was the only sound.  Then Rose cleared her throat.  She dipped her 
finger into her drink, drew it out, watched it drip a moment back into the 
punch, then licked it clean.  �Men, I have another engagement,� she said 
with a certain meekness.  Yet there was a definiteness to her tone which 
seemed unbreachable.  The men said nothing.  Their cocks had been 
serviced, their faces seemed satisfied.  It had been such an agony for 
them, waiting to spend, that I think they might have shot more than they�d 
hoped in coming, perhaps exhausting themselves.  Still, their penises both 
seemed to flinch and rise a little at her words, especially Louis�s.  What 
was he up to?
         �Girls, say goodbye to your men.  You�ll be staying with me awhile,� 
Rose told me and Polly.  Poor Polly, holding her drink delicately aloft as 
she peed, almost spilled it on herself.
         �But- but,� Polly blurted.  And I knew what her objection was.  In 
addition to losing her boyfriend, she had yet to cum.  Her coyness had 
proven too coy.  I saw her pat her tummy suddenly, then slide her hand 
lower.  Rose gave her a warning look.  She had kept her long, swishy cane 
with her and she sat with it across her knees.  It kept the men in line as 
well as me and Polly.  Despite her sumptuous breasts, Rose was delicate 
as a flower petal.  She needed the cane, I knew.  It was her only protection.  
Night after night she must play this dangerous game, teasing powerful 
men, yet always, somehow, maintaining control, often with just her well-
wielded cane coming between herself and them.  How had she fared when 
she was still inexpert with it?  I guessed she�d had to learn fast, to keep 
herself from being raped and killed by men in the throes of passion.
         Louis stood.  His frame rippled with his powerful muscles, 
seemingly chiseled from stone, now all in subtle movement as he walked 
first to Polly and, bending low, lifted her hand.  He kissed it.  She watched 
him with big eyes, preschooler eyes, as she sat on the Potty, the last 
wisps of her pee sprinkling into the toilet.
         �Goodnight, little cunt,� Louis said sardonically to Polly.  Then he 
came to me.  He thrust his rising cock at my lips, arching his hips into my 
face.  At the same time he reached down and patted my head, fondled my 
hair.  �Be good,� he told me.  Reluctantly, not liking the blatantness of it, I 
kissed his penis for him.  He made me kiss him right on his pee hole.  There 
was no way to avoid it.  Polly giggled.
         Andre presented his loins to Polly and, at a cross word from Rose, 
she was forced to kiss her boyfriend�s pee hole just as I had been.  Then 
both men left us.  They exited through the little girl�s bedroom.  The maid 
followed them, to gather their clothes for them and help them dress.
         �Oh, please don�t go,� Polly commanded in a whining voice from the 
throne of her potty.  Rose remained seated in her chair, waiting for the 
men to pass out.  The maid closed the door to the little girl�s room a 
moment later, and I heard her lock the door.
         The young maid entered the room.  Curiously, she was naked, her hair 
tousled, her cunny wet and showing signs of having been fucked.  The night 
was growing late.  All who might were partaking now, I guessed, maids 
and guests alike.  The maid trembled with repressed lust.  Had she been 
interrupted in mid-fuck?  Rose looked up at her, surprised.  I guessed she 
did not know the maid, perhaps with the connivance of the old one, had 
been getting bonked downstairs.
         The girl bent close to her mistress and whispered in her ear.  �Oh 
my,� Rose replied.  Suddenly she seemed to forget entirely that our maid 
was nude and wet.  Something more pressing had been brought to her 
attention.  �Oh, well,� Rose looked at us.  �It�s hardly what I�d hoped for, 
but these two are the only two available,� she mused aloud to herself.  
Polly stood up from the potty.  Her luck seemed to be turning worse every 
moment she sat there.  �Girls,� Rose said abruptly.  �Come downstairs 
with me.�  Rose stood up, a mood crossing her countenance that dictated 
complete obedience.
         �Oh, but what for?� Polly asked.  She made to sit down on her potty 
again.  I could smell her pee in the bowl.  I wished she would not add more 
to it.
         �Do not ask why,� Rose replied.  �But to keep from splitting my cane 
across your backside, I�ll tell you that you�ve won a little reprieve.  We�re 
going out, girls.  And here I was just getting you all ready, Polly, for a 
nice whipping.  Well, you hardly drank any of your punch, anyway.  Good.  
You�ll need to be alert.  Flurry, no more punch for you.  Give me your glass.�  
         Reluctantly I got up from my comforter, straining to rise and unbend 
myself.  I�d been happy, sitting on the floor, sipping my liquored punch, 
letting my well-reamed ass close in on itself again.  Andre had been big, 
and my bottom wished simply to sit and recover.  But I was forced to turn 
over my half-empty glass to Rose, who handed it to the maid.  The young 
female looked at it a moment, then gulped it down.
         �Never mind,� Rose said to her, and stepped past the girl.  Then she 
turned, gazed at her again, and handed her the cane she carried.  �Take this 
and whip yourself with it,� she said.  �You deserve it, for dereliction of 
duties, but I haven�t the time to whip you for getting laid on the job.  Make 
sure you have some nice stripes on your ass when I come back or I�ll do it 
myself.�  Rose then beckoned Polly and I.  Seeing a chance to depart from 
the presence of the cane, Polly and I quickly followed.  As we went down 
the steps I turned once, saw the maid trying to whack her own hiney with 
the cane.  She looked silly, trying to stick her ass out, only to draw it in 
when she banged the cane down upon herself.  I turned and went 
downstairs.  A little howl trailed down the stairs after me.  I guessed 
she�d finally managed to mark herself, regretted it.  Would she continue?  
I did not know.
         I found myself in a large storeroom at the base of the stairs.  A flour 
sack had split open and lay with its contents upon the floor.  Nearby a 
naked man stood.  He looked like a gardener.  He held a cap with a feather 
in it over his genitals.  There was a little flour on him.  Rose laughed, 
seeing this male specimen standing buck naked amidst the soup cans and 
preserved fruit and dried meat, the rows of boxed foodstuffs and the sacks 
of potatoes.  
         �Is the maid preparing you for dinner?� Rose asked.  The man replied 
in Spanish.  I could not understand him.  I guessed he was the paramour of 
the girl upstairs who was now inexpertly trying to flog herself.  Rose 
passed on, we followed.  Polly turned to peek at the man�s butt as we 
passed.
         �He has cute buns,� she confided to me.  She sounded like she�d not 
said such a compliment before, as if she were trying it out for the first 
time.
         �Don�t try to be naughty, Polly,� I said to her.  �You�re naughty 
enough as it is, just being yourself.�
         �No I�m not,� she pouted.  �I just wanted to see, that�s all.�
         �You just want someone to stick his big thing up you,� I teased.
         �No I don�t!� she insisted.  We might have continued this banter, but 
Rose guided us outside into the darkness and chilliness.  The midnight sky 
opened up overhead.  Except for a light on what I guessed was gardener�s 
shed, we stood in moonlight and starlight only.  I looked up, Polly did too.  
Our earthly thoughts were forgotten.
         �Ooooh, I see the big dipper!� Polly said, pointing.
         �That�s the Southern Cross,� I replied.  Or was it Orion?  There were 
so many stars.
         �Bend over, you two, I�ve got to wash your bottoms,� Rose announced 
from behind us.  How did she get back there?  I heard a splashing sound.  I 
turned and saw she�d got hold of a hose.  There was a gurgling as the hose 
filled itself to full force.  Rose lifted the hose.  Polly and I stood 
wonderingly a moment.  Then, grabbing her hand, I bent low and took her 
with me.  I fixed my gaze on the shed with the light on it down in the 
mellowing fields.  Summer was upon them, the cool night sky of summer 
consoling them after a long day�s heat.
         �EEEEEeeeek!� came wailing into my ears, and I thought it was Polly 
for a moment, then realized it was the girl upstairs.  I heard a gruff voice.  
Was it the man we�d seen in the storeroom?  There was a sound like the 
wind, though far off, as if blowing from the upstairs window, and the girl 
screamed again.  I heard a distinctive crack of palmstem, singing as it met 
with fulsome bottomflesh.  How could there be a window upstairs, I 
wondered?  I�d seen none.  Perhaps it had been covered over, to allow us 
privacy.  Obviously the young maid�s suitor now wished to let in the night 
air.  If her cries at being punished entertained his fellows out in the shed 
or the huts of the field hands, so be it.  They would no doubt congratulate 
him for his exertions, I guessed.
         �Yeeeek!� Polly shouted next to me, right in my ear.  My cry joined 
hers as I felt the ice-cold hose water whoosh upon my bottom.
         �Hold still, girls, we haven�t time for a bath,� Rose admonished us 
both as we leapt up.  I looked back at her a moment, then decided I wished 
to have Andre�s seed washed out of me however I might.  It felt like the 
Antarctic was going up my bottom, but no matter.  I took Polly round her 
waist and made sure she suffered with me.  After all, it was her 
boyfriend�s spunk that had been pumped into me.  We both bent over again, 
and Rose applied the hose to our backsides.  Polly hooted in dismay, even 
as the girl upstairs yelled anew at the ass-searing cane.  She was too hot 
on her derriere, we were too cold.  There seemed to be no happy medium 
here.  Our cries mingled, each of us wishing we could trade places.
         Rose gave me the hose a moment later and bent over.  She directed 
me to clean off her bottom, just as she�d done to me.  I took the hose and, 
with a gleam of revenge in my eyes, happily made her scream as I doused 
her with the water.  It was the temperature of an ice berg.  Polly stood 
shivering nearby, watching, holding herself.  The screams of the girl 
upstairs subsided into sobs.  Soon I heard her moaning, and a cry of 
�deeper!� wafted down, mingled with the urgent grunts of her boyfriend.  
She would need the hose next, I surmised.
         �Come, we must dress.  There is really no time!� Rose said.  She 
stood erect again and took my hand, casting aside the hose.  She did not 
bother to turn it off.  We hurried back inside.  I felt grateful for the 
warmth of the storeroom as we passed back into it.  We did not go back 
upstairs.  Instead Rose led us into a laundry room.  There I saw clothes 
neatly folded in piles, as well as more waiting to be washed.  I imagined 
the old maid worked down here, laundering clothes, seeing and smelling 
everyone�s residue after they�d fucked.  The discarded panties, the torn 
bras, the sheets with their distinctive, tell-tale wet spot.
         �Ah, the satin sheets.  These were on the bed where Lord Astor 
entertained his new lady friend last night.  What was her name?  Miss 
Elginvale, yes.  Runs the local children�s charity in town.  Always on T.V.  I 
like her jewels,� the washerwoman would murmur to herself.  She would 
know all the gossip, intimately, just by sniffing the sheets.
         Rose rummaged through the pile of clean laundry.  She found two pair 
of cutoff shorts and handed them to us.  We took them, still dripping wet.  
�Oh yes, a towel!� she declared.  She got towels for each of us, finding 
them in the stack of clean laundry, then pulled t-shirts out for us too, and 
scarfs to tie around our necks, that we might not be too plain.
         �Oh, I have to get these stockings off!� Rose said of herself.  She 
yanked down her hose.  �Take off your heels if you like, and I�ll give you 
tennies,� she added.
         A few minutes later we emerged from the laundry room.  We were 
ready to go out on the town.  At short notice, I thought we looked pretty 
good.  There�d been no time for bras or panties.  I wore a simple pair of 
cutoff shorts, cut too high in the back, I thought, where my bottomcheeks 
hung out a little.  They were frayed and there was no belt for them, but 
they did the job of covering my most important parts, except for the little 
hole over my bottomcheek, the right one, giving a sneak preview to people 
that I wished they might not have.
         For my top, I wore a tee-shirt with short, rolled sleeves turned up to 
my slim shoulders, with the midriff knotted off to show my tummy.  A 
scarf was knotted round my neck, making me look like a cowgirl.  I wore 
old but clean tennis shoes.  Rose gave me a cowboy hat to make me feel 
special.
         Polly wore cutoffs like mine.  Her bottomcheeks peeked out the 
bottom of her shorts, jiggling as she walked ahead of me.  Her shorts were 
already wedged in her ass.  She wore no panties.  She seemed not to mind.  
I think she liked the feeling of her shorts pressing tightly to her.  She�d 
not been fucked.  Perhaps she hoped the shorts would allay her desire a 
little.  She�d not been as fortunate as I in the matter of a shirt.  Hers was 
simply cut off at the midriff-point.  There was too little of it to tie.  And 
her shirt was sleeveless.  You could look within the big armholes cut in 
the side of it and see her breasts looming within, the pert undercurves of 
her breasts.  Distinctly her nipples stood out from her shirt, lifting it.  
The material was thin and if it had not been dyed yellow I think I might 
have seen right through it.  There was a faded beer can imprinted on the 
front of her shirt.  The bottom of the can was missing, as was the portion 
of the shirt on which it had once been imprinted.
         Polly tugged worryingly at the hem of her shirt.  �I need something 
better than this if I�m to go dancing,� she proclaimed.  Rose swatted her 
jean-clad bottom.
         �You have a cute bellybutton, and nice tits,� Rose answered.  �Don�t 
be so shy, dear.  It�s after midnight.  There will only be other girls like 
there, like you, a little older perhaps, and guys.�
         �That�s what I mean!� Polly protested.  �Can�t I have your shirt?�
         �No, dear, you�re the youngest.  You�re the only one who can fit into 
that shirt.  My boobs are much bigger than yours, and Fleury�s are bigger, 
too,� Rose answered her.  �Now be good and don�t complain.  I did the best I 
could for you.�
         �Oh, when will I have boobies as big as Flurries�?� Polly whined.  Her 
face pouted.
         �Yours aren�t that much smaller,� I assured her.
         �Then let me have YOUR shirt!� Polly begged.
         �Just don�t bend too far over,� I laughed.  Sulkily she ceased her 
complaining, knowing she was stuck with what she had.  Rose took us 
through the house and out the front.  A limo waited.  We slipped within and 
Rose told the driver to take us into town.
         I looked over at Rose as we settled into the car�s back seat.  Despite 
her hastily-chosen attire, she looked like a million dollars, as usual.  Her 
hair had been quickly repinned atop her head.  She�d touched up her makeup, 
using a kit in the laundry room and staring with brief but effective 
intensity into a cracked mirror next to the dryer.  A peasant blouse bared 
her tanned shoulders and absorbed the fullness of her breasts.  She wore 
no bra beneath it.  Her nipples tweaked the light material and lifted it in 
tiny twin peaks.  The blouse hugged her ribs, leaving her belly bare, 
showing how smooth and soft it was, how invitingly it offered itself to 
men who dreamed of being fathers.
         Riding low on her hips Rose wore a leather miniskirt.  She had no 
undies underneath.  It was all that separated her from the hands of would-
be lovers.  She had it tucked beneath her now, it barely cleared her bottom.  
Her long thighs shone whitely in the moonlight that bathed the limo�s 
cabin.  Rose had her window down to let in the night air.  Inside, a heater 
hummed to keep us warm.  Pee wee boots with rowelled spurs fitted 
themselves to Rose�s feet.  Like us, she wore a scarf, though only Polly 
and I had cowboy hats.  In compensation, perhaps, Rose wore leather 
gloves with beaded Indian designs upon her hands.
         Rose lowered a mirror, flicked on a light, and checked her makeup 
again.  She had a purse with her, unlike Polly and I, and she opened it and 
drew out a tube of lipstick.  She did her own, then passed it to Polly.  
Sitting between us, Polly had discovered a small hairdrier tucked into the 
limo and had put it to use on her hair.  I kept my hat on.  I hoped she�d 
finish soon.  I did not want to ride around with wet hair, though I was 
farthest from Rose�s open window.  Rose herself had dried her hair with a 
blowdrier in the laundry room, but ushered us out to the car before Polly 
and I could make use of it.
         Rose passed a hairbrush to Polly.  �Comb out your hair, we must look 
our very best,� she told the girl.  �Then let Flurry do her hair too.�
         �Okay,� Polly replied.  She was happy now.  Absorbed in herself, she 
brushed her long locks.  Rose passed me her makeup kit and told me there 
was a mirror pinned to the ceiling above my head.  I drew it down.  It hung 
by a hinge from the interior roof.  I flicked on its light.  
         �Not too much,� Rose warned me.  �I don�t want you to look older 
than you are.  That would spoil the fun.�  I looked at her, saw her smiling, 
but decided to heed her advice.  Young girls with too much makeup on 
didn�t look mature, they just looked silly.  I pushed back my cowboy hat.  
Carefully I traced my lips with the lipstick.  Rose passed me eyeshadow 
and I brushed out my lashes.  I applied some rogue to my cheeks.  Then 
Rose managed to part Polly from her blowdrier and I took off my hat and 
did my hair.

30

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