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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                     ENSLAVED TO EROS

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                                         Chapter One

         Can you be too much in love?  I suppose you can be, though I 
wouldn�t have believed it, at the time.
         In the fall of my 8th grade year, I got a job at a flower shop.  I 
loved the scents of the flowers.  I liked arranging them.  And I enjoyed 
meeting the people who came in to buy them.  
         But most of all, which was my undoing, I liked the man who owned 
the flower shop.
         Don�t laugh.  He had lots of money.  He owned lots of different 
properties.  The flower shop was just one of them.  It didn�t bespeak 
anything about his masculinity.  If anything, less masculinity in him 
would have been preferable.  If nothing else, it would have made him 
safer.
         As it was, he was a tall, gallant man, with a slightly brutish air, 
from his days as a professional football player.  His name was Rob.  
He�d made lots of money playing pro football, and was apparently quite 
famous, though being a girl, and quite young, I knew nothing of his 
career, save what he told me.  But he didn�t brag about it, as other men 
might.  It was over and done, he had his trophies.  Now instead of a 
uniform, he wore expensive suits.  He was a businessman.
         Usually, Rob didn�t visit the store.  Instead, his wife came.  She 
supervised me.  But she did it with an extremely light hand.  She 
respected me.  I admired her for that.  I was only 13, but she trusted me 
to treat the customers well, and count up all the money.  Which I did, 
quite professionally, although I lost ten dollars once.
         That�s how it started.  We were discussing the ten dollars, and I 
was quite sorry, and wanted to do something for her, because, you 
know, it had been my responsibility, and I�d lost it.  She had dark hair, 
long hair, which reminded me a lot of Bridget.  And she had long 
eyelashes, and eyes that seemed to drill right into me, even though she 
was loath to accuse me of anything.  She was very kind to me.  But 
there was sort of a tension between us, despite her kindness, for I 
wanted to do well by her, and in my job, because it was my first.
         �Well, Bambi,� she said.  Her name was Jane.  She stroked the 
stem of a rose that I�d been arranging with other flowers.  Her finger 
nipped a thorn on the rose�s long stem and began to bleed.
         �Oh!� I cried.  �I�m sorry!  Let me get you a kleenex,� I said.  
         �No, it�s alright,� Jane replied.  She put her finger to her mouth 
and sucked upon it.  I fetched a kleenex from a box under the store�s 
front counter.  I handed it to her.
         �Do you have a boyfriend?� she asked.  She placed her fingertip 
into the kleenex.
         �There are boys who like me,� I answered.  
         Jane tossed back her long hair.  She looked at me with those 
burning, direct eyes of hers.  �That�s not what I asked,� she said.  I felt 
a shiver run through me.  �Do you have a boyfriend?� she asked again.
         �I-- I know a guy named Nick,� I said.  �But he�s a lot older.  And I 
had a crush on a guy named Jim, but...�  My voice trailed away.  I hadn�t 
seen Jim since the cave.  I�d kissed him goodbye, almost diffidently, 
expecting to see him again, and yet fearful, a little, of where it might 
lead if I did.  Now he was off, busy being a Navy SEAL someplace, 
probably overseas, and I missed him.
         �This Nick,� Jane said.  �Do you like him?�
         I gulped.  �Not as much as your husband,� I wanted to answer.  She 
waited for my reply.  I said nothing.  
         �Do you like Rob, my husband?� Jane asked finally.  Her eyes, like 
deep dark blue pools, seemed to want to engulf me. 
         �Y- Yes,� I confessed.  �Oh!� I cried.  I put my face in my hands.  
�Yes,� I said.  I felt guilty about losing the ten dollars and perhaps this 
was my way of making up for it.  �Yes, I don�t like him, though,� I added.  
�I love him.�  I looked at her.  �You should have children by him,� I said.  
And the implied threat, I think, was that, if she didn�t, I was more than 
ready to.
         �How curious,� Jane said.  She gave me a sly smile.  �You love my 
husband, and I love you.�  She saw me flinch.  I could see she was 
waiting to be rejected, but I said nothing.  �Your personality is 
pleasant,� she added, after a tension-filled pause.  But its your body I 
crave.  You have such nice breasts,� Jane said, frankly.  �And such a 
sweet bottom.  How round it is!  How saucily you seem to proffer it, 
when you bend to pick flowers from the pots on the lowest shelves.�  
She paused again, waiting for me to storm at her, to insult her, but out 
of love for her husband, if nothing else, I didn�t.  �And how sweetly you 
offer it when you bend over when my husband is visiting the store,� she 
added.
         I placed my hands on my hips.  Not authoritatively, but rather as 
one taking possession of something.  I felt the denim of my jeans.  Her 
words had seemed to almost strip them off me, leaving me standing 
before her with a bare fanny.
         �What-- what do you wish to do with my bottom, if you were to, 
to have your way with it?� I asked.  I gulped.  I felt ridiculous asking 
such a question and yet, yet it had to be asked, I thought.  One woman to 
another.  
         Jane plucked the long-stemmed rose from the vase it had been 
sitting in.  She took the kleenex from her finger and let it carelessly 
drop to the floor.  She waved the rose through the air.  Its stem was 
springy.
         �I should,� Jane paused.  �I should discipline you, for taking such 
an interest in my husband.�  Her long eyelashes fluttered nervously.
         I heard myself swallow.  �I think you�d almost like me to have 
your husband, so you could... have me,� I answered boldly.
         Jane put the stem of the rose to her lips.  She was careful to 
avoid its thorns.  She sucked upon it.  The thin green stem crossed 
between her lips like a gag.
         �Yes,� she said at last.  Her breath came hot over the stem, which 
remained tightly pressed to her lips.  �Yes, I might,� she said.  Suddenly 
she ripped the stem from her mouth and tossed back her hair.  �How 
silly!� she exclaimed.  �It would be, of course, quite illegal.  And 
abusive,� she said.
         �Yes,� I nodded.  I felt her eyes peer deep into my soul.
         �Invite your friend Nick to come along,� she said.  �Is he 
handsome?�
         �Yes,� I breathed.  We were almost beyond words, I felt, 
communicating more by looks and minute gestures.  Invite Nick to 
come...?
         �To a party, of course,� Jane said.  She gave her hair another toss.  
It was long, rich, glossy.  �This weekend, perhaps?�
         �Not--� I paused.  My mind, with difficulty, thought of other 
things besides the peering of her eyes and the magnificence of her 
husband.  �Not this weekend,� I said.  �But next weekend... my parents 
will be away.�
         Jane broke her gaze with me.  She turned.  Her long rope of hair 
caressed her back.  She had a slim back, a slim body, save for her 
breasts, which were substantial.  She was very beautiful.  She might 
have been a fashion model, if she�d been blessed with less cleavage.  
�Next weekend, then,� Jane said.  She spoke over her shoulder to me, 
toyed with a flower arrangement, with her fingers.  It was a new 
arrangement that I�d just put together and I saw that her fingers, 
aimless and careless, not thinking, were dishevelling it.  Yet I didn�t 
mind.
         �I may or I may not, depending,� I said.  I felt resistance in my 
voice.
         Jane turned to me.  She let go of my carefully arranged flowers.  
�You may or may not, but you will.  You like my husband too much,� Jane 
said.
         I felt myself nod.  �Yes,� I agreed.

         Promptly at seven o�clock, on a windy Friday night, I knocked on 
their door.  They lived in a large Tudor mansion, but, given the size of 
the other homes in their neighborhood, it wasn�t conspicuous.  The large 
trees in their front yard swayed.  I huddled against Nick to keep warm.  
I wasn�t wearing much.  A miniskirt, a slinky pair of panties, and, under 
my soft, thin sweater, no bra, so my nipples might show themselves the 
minute I became excited.  In fact, thanks to the cold, they were 
standing up already.  I blushed.  I wished I�d worn a bra, but it was too 
late now.  We were here.
         Jane answered the door.  It was an oversized door, large and thick.  
Despite her height of 5� 9� she looked small and weak beside it when 
she opened it.  Yet she had strong eyes.  Large and predatory, like a 
wolf�s.  
         �Oh!� she cried, suddenly.  She was wearing an extremely short 
leather miniskirt and the wind flipped it up.  Her panties showed.  They 
were white schoolgirl panties, but thinner and sexier, giving her an 
innocent allure despite the black leather of her skirt, and the matching 
black leather vest she wore above it.
         I felt the wind on my seat.  I clutched at the back of my skirt as 
Jane�s hands fluttered down over her private, pulling her mini along.  A 
car, rolling past on the street, slowed, seemed to pause.  Jane peered 
out beyond us.
         �Come in, quickly,� she urged.  She seemed a bit hapless.  We 
scurried by, as she held her miniskirt down over her crotch.
         The door closed beyond us.  Jane�s hair, like mine, was disheveled.
         �Oh!� she breathed.  �I didn�t know it had grown so windy 
outside.�  
         �Yes,� I said.  I drew a brush from my purse.  Quickly I repaired 
the long locks of my hair.  She passed to another room, returned 
brushing her own hair.  
         �I�m so sorry about the wind,� Jane said to us.  I smiled.  It made 
her house feel like a refuge, I thought.  A sanctuary.  Like any well-
built home, it had thick walls.  You could barely hear the wind outside, 
and then only if you listened very closely.  Her home was warm and 
there was the scent of wood in the air.  I heard the low crackle of a fire 
in a fireplace coming from an adjoining room.  Somewhere, music 
played.  It was soft.  It seemed to lull my senses.  Surrounding us, 
though we stood still in the foyer, were antiques.  An ancient vase, 
painted with a scene from China.  A painting, perhaps from one of the 
Impressionist masters, on the wall.  It showed a boat, gliding across a 
river in morning mist.  The carpet was plush and absorbed the sound of 
my spiked heels when I walked upon it.
         Jane smiled.  She let out a laugh, as one uncertain, nervous.  I 
smiled, looked at Nick.  He passed his hand back through his wind-
fluffed hair and grinned.  My eyes ran down his work shirt to his jeans.  
He showed a protuberance there.  Jane had insisted that whoever I 
brought abstain from sex for a week.  He had obeyed, apparently, given 
his pronounced lump in the front of his trousers.
         Rob appeared.  He sauntered in from the room where Jane had gone 
to fetch her hair brush.  His eyes fixed, with the jealousy of a 
competing male, on Nick�s crotch.  There was embarassing second 
where Nick was forced to endure the man�s gaze; then Rob politely 
passed his eyes up to Nick�s face and nodded.
         �Glad you could come,� Rob said to Nick.  His eyes moved to me, 
seemed to undress me.  I shivered.  He was holding a drink.  He sipped it 
lightly as he gazed at me.  His eyes fastened on my breasts.  My nipples, 
already hard from the chilliness outside, seemed to stiffen further.  I 
felt them offering themselves through my sweater.
         Jane, despite the size of her breasts, wore no shirt under her 
leather vest.  I had not noticed this immediately.  I had been too wind-
chilled, too embarrassed with thoughts of what the night, if we stayed, 
portended.  Yet now, with feminine instinct, I noticed that Nick�s eyes 
were fixed on her tits.  Letting my gaze pass to her bosoms, I saw that 
Jane wore a leather vest, and nothing more.  She had white cuffs on her 
wrists, but no shirt.  Her skin was white, white as a blouse might have 
been, but I realized it was her soft skin I was looking at.  Around her 
neck, fashionably, she wore a starched white collar.  But, again, it was 
just a collar, matching her cuffs, with nothing but her skin inbetween.
         And the black leather vest.  She touched a button on the vest, 
undid it.  It fell open to reveal the space between her breasts.  I saw 
the soft, buttery leather of her vest grow to two points.  Her nipples, 
underneath it, were becoming erect.  The vest was so thin, I realized, 
that it failed to hide the stiffening of her nipples underneath.
         �Would you like a drink?� Rob asked myself, Nick.  He held his own 
glass aloft, as if saluting our arrival.
         �Sure,� I heard myself say.
         �Yes,� Nick agreed.
         �Yes, please get them both drinks, darling.  And myself as well,� 
Jane told her husband.  She flicked back her long black hair.  She smiled 
at us and asked us if we�d like to go sit by the fire.  We said yes.
         �Nice painting,� Nick said, pausing by the Impressionist work on 
the wall.  Perhaps he was nervous about his erection, and wishing to 
hide it in conversation.
         �Yes, isn�t it?� Jane said.  She drew close beside him.  Her hand, 
as if to steady herself, passed to his waist.  She curled a finger through 
one of his belt loops on his pants.  He wore a leather belt.  Her free 
fingers stroked it.  Together they stared at the painting.  I heard the 
clink of glasses in the next room.  Rob was mixing drinks.  He called out 
to us, asking our choices.  
         �Do you have any pineapple juice?� Nick asked Jane.
         �Yes, I think so,� Jane said.  Her eyes sought Nick�s.  They met.  I 
sensed an exchange of electric desire between them.  �A Hawaiian 
cocktail,� Nick called out to Rob.  But his eyes were fixed firmly on 
Jane as he spoke.  
         �And you, Bambi?� Rob asked from the next room.
         �A... um... a Cherie,� I said, thinking of some old magazines I�d 
found in a boy�s room when I went visiting.  He�d been quite 
embarrassed.  I�d bid him goodnight upon finding them, leaving him to 
his magazines, since he had at least 10 of them and obviously liked 
them so much.  
         �And you dear?� Rob called.  He had to call twice more, before his 
wife heard him.
         �Cuban Special,� she replied at last, absently, her eyes having 
since passed from Nick�s face to his chest.  His own eyes had moved 
down to her well-pointed breasts.
         �It is... it is by Cezanne,� Jane said rather haltingly to Nick when 
her husband appeared.  He gave us our drinks.  The four of us stared at 
the painting for a moment.  Rob passed his hand behind my back and let 
his palm rest on my far hip.  I felt a tension in his fingers.  Did he wish 
to put his hand lower?  My skirt was short.  My legs were long and bare.  
I wore spiked heels, that lifted my bottom and made its swell more 
obvious.
         Nick turned away from the painting.  He found himself facing Rob 
and the two of them confronted each other for a moment, awkwardly, 
Nick still with a visible lump in the front of his trousers.  My eyes 
glanced down at Rob�s crotch.  His own trouser-front had begun to 
swell.  But his pants were more expensive.  They were not tight work 
jeans, like Nick wore, but tweed.  He wore a business-style shirt with 
them.
         Jane, perhaps to relieve the tension between the men, moved 
close to me.  I felt her hot breath on my cheek.  I turned, lifted my face.  
She took it as a willingness to kiss and I found her lips upon mine.
         �Oh!� I said.  I lifted my drink aloft as we kissed, as if toasting 
our act.  Her own glass lifted, as if seconding me.  I felt her hand pass 
around behind me.  She pulled up my skirt.  My bottom showed.  Rob, 
still standing near me, moved his hand from my hip to my ass.  Freely 
he palmed me.  I felt the warmth of his broad hand on my cheeks and 
knew he felt a similar warmth from my tender backside.  I wore panties 
with a slim back and it had sunk between the cheeks of my ass, like a 
g-string.  Gently, feeling my cheeks, Rob drew the fabric of my panties� 
seat out of my ass.  He straightened my undies for me.  He passed a hand 
smoothly across them when he was done.  I felt my bottom jut out at 
him in thanks.  It was instinctive; my mouth meshed into Jane�s as I did 
it.
         �Nick?� Rob said to my sometime boyfriend.
         �Yeah,� Nick answered.
         �I want you to know I�m not gay,� Rob said.  At the same time, out 
of the corner of my eye, I saw that the older man reached for the yonger 
man�s crotch.  Nick, surprisingly, though he was as masculine as any 
male I�d ever met, simply held his drink and watched.  Rob took hold of 
Nick�s zipper with his fingers.  With his other hand, he gently cupped 
and took hold of the fabric of Nick�s pants, between his legs.  
�However,� Rob said.  �You�re obviously uncomfortable.  Consider this a 
favor, not an insult.�
         �Yeah,� Nick said, with a surprised voice.  He gripped his drink 
and watched as Rob pulled down his pants zipper.  His cotton underpants 
bulged through the fly of his jeans.  He let out a small sigh, obviously 
relieved.
         �There,� Rob said.  He desisted, taking his hands away, leaving 
Nick with his cock, covered only by his underpants, sticking out through 
the fly of his jeans.  �I used to play professional football,� Rob said to 
Nick.  
         �Uh, yeah,� Nick said.  He sipped his drink.  His eyes passed 
hopefully to Jane.  After all, if her husband was willing to let him 
unzip, he might just permit more.  All was still tentative, nothing had 
been fixed.  Agreement, I have found, is never made explicit beforehand.  
The players must feel each other out, must decide if they are right for 
each other.  I was kissing Jane and finding her hair soft as my own, but 
dark, her perfume sweet, but deeper and richer than my own.  I think 
she enjoyed the lightness of my perfume.  It bespoke innocence.
         �Your wife has nice tits, a nice ass,� Nick said to Rob.
         �I keep urging her to be a model.  But she tells me her tits are too 
big,� Rob replied.  
         �She could pose for Penthouse,� Nick said.
         Jane�s mouth separated from mine.  I found myself gasping for 
breath.
         �Do you think so?� Jane laughed to Nick.  �Would you cum over me 
if you saw me in Penthouse?� 
         �Sure,� Nick said.  Jane glanced at his opened crotch.  I let my 
own eyes pass down to his pants.  I stared open-mouthed.  He was quite 
big.  I�d seen him before, but it was always a treat to see him, all the 
same.  I could make out the head of his cock within the bulging sword-
like shaft of cotton that stuck up through his fly.
         Jane�s vest had fallen open more completely as she�d kissed me.  
One of her breasts showed its cone, it�s nipple.  She didn�t bother to 
cover it as our eyes passed from Nick�s cloth-covered penis to her 
naked tit.  It was sumptuous to look at; white flesh, surmounted by a 
cherry tip, its nipple ridid and hard atop the heavy, soft tit.  She was 
only 19.  She had young breasts; they hung from her chest like twin 
melons, their nipples poking upward like those of a young girl.  Like, 
indeed, my own somewhat smaller, high-perched breasts.
         �Let�s go to the living room,� Jane invited.  �There�s a fire there.�  
She turned.  As she moved from us she let her vest slip off her 
shoulders.  They were thin, frail; like a model�s.  Her vest fell to her 
waist, showing her back.  It was slender.  She removed her vest as she 
walked, placed it on a table at the end of the foyer.  There, I saw, half-
hidden behind a vase of flowers, there was a leather riding crop.  She 
dropped her vest beside it and picked it up.  She swung it in front of 
herself, lightly, careful not to hit her breasts with it.  Then, still 
walking, she held it at both ends and flexed it.
         We followed.  I felt a shiver run down me as I watched her, from 
behind, playing absently with the crop.  Did they own horses?  Had the 
crop been left on the foyer table accidently, from a recent riding?  Or 
was it merely a toy, that they�d purchased for other, less innocent, 
purposes?  I didn�t know.
         We filtered into the living room.  Four of us, one bare-breasted, 
another with his cock showing between the open halves of his fly.  We 
settled onto chairs in front of a large fireplace.  A fire smoldered 
within it.  The house was pleasantly warm.  A fire was only needed for 
atmosphere, for decoration.
         I still held my drink.  The others still held theirs.  Despite Jane�s 
nude bosoms, despite Nick�s bulging cock, all was still decorous.  We 
might have been guests at a formal party, we were still so polite.  I 
liked our politeness.  Orgies, even the thought of them, don�t appeal to 
me.  But a party, where everyone is discreet, until at last the moment 
of denoument arrives, those have a pleasant allure.  After all, I was 13.  
They had to procure my consent.  With an older couple they might have 
been more open.  But I was a kind of albatross, perhaps ready for sex, 
perhaps not.  I had to be brought to the jousting match gently.
         My two knights of the evening settled into opposite chairs.  Nick, 
with his penis displayed, though his underpants still covered its raw 
nudity.  Rob, facing him, his own protuberance now more visible, 
despite the more comfortable cut of his pants.  I made to sit with Nick 
but Jane switched me to her husband�s couch before I could sit down.
         �We must make acquaintances, dear,� Jane told me.  �Sit with my 
husband.  I shall sit across from you, with Nick?�  Her sentence ended 
with a question mark.  She was directing me, yet asking at the same 
time.  I had only not to resist, which I did, sitting down as she�d told 
me with Rob.  She sat down with my boyfriend.
         Her eyes glanced at his penis.
         �Are you still feeling uncomfortable?� Jane asked Nick.  She 
touched the tip of her riding crop to his cloth-covered cock.
         �A- a little,� Nick answered.  He took a quick swallow from his 
drink.
         �Let me, then,� Jane said.  She knelt in front of Nick, on the floor.  
I watched, wide-eyed, as she laid her crop next to Nick�s thigh on the 
sofa.  Then, with her fingers, she pulled at his white underpants.  She 
managed to find the hole cut into a man�s shorts and drew Nick�s penis 
through it.  He presented himself to us, bare and long and quite 
breathtakingly hard.  His thing pulsed.  The entire shaft seemed like 
some big pneumatic drill, quivering of his pulse, waiting to be put to 
work.
         Rob, having passed his arm anew behind my waist, drew me close 
to him.  I felt his breath on my cheek.  I turned my face up and found his 
lips seeking mine.  I surrendered myself to a kiss from him even as 
Jane, telling Nick his thing felt too hot, proposed to cool his tool with 
her mouth.
         I felt Rob�s tongue invade between my lips.  Jane, at the same 
time, put Nick�s hot penis upon her tongue.  She sucked at Nick and I 
sucked upon her husband�s tongue.  
         Rob became more insistent.  His hands lifted my ass.  He managed 
to get them up under my skirt.  My panties, so recently straightend by 
him, he yanked down in back.  Then, finding my bottom bare, he cupped 
it, and spread the cheeks of my seat.  A finger delved within my crack.  
He touched my anus.  I jerked; let out a shriek.  It was muffled by the 
invasion of his tongue into my mouth.  I found my cheeks, those of my 
mouth, split wider.  The tongue I�d so recently sucked upon became like 
a snake, slithering deep in me.  I choked upon it.
         Rob�s kiss, despite my difficulty in receiving it, didn�t end 
quickly.  For long minutes he seemed to be trying to gag me with his 
tongue.  I begged for air, finally was permitted it, only to be taken 
anew as soon as I�d caught my breath.  His finger dug in my ass.  He was 
rude, insistent.  My anus was forced to open to him.  He explored me.  I 
found his explorations uncomfortable.
         And yet, at last, when our kiss broke off, I sat beside Rob, hugging 
him.  We gazed at his wife and Nick.  She sensed we were watching and 
disengaged, after a bit, her mouth from Nick�s tool.  It stuck up through 
his open fly, glistening with her saliva.  His whole length was wet; she 
was quite a championess when it came to putting men where they 
belonged, I saw.  She did not suffer the discomfort I did, in attempting 
such an intimite act.
         �Your wife gives good blow jobs,� Nick said to Rob.  Jane picked 
up her crop and swatted his penis.  �Ow!� Nick said.  His cock quivered 
under the blow.
         �Don�t embarrass me,� Jane said.  Then she smiled.  �You�re quite 
a trooper,� she said.  �Most men would have spent, with that kind of a 
sucking.�
         �Thanks,� Nick said.  I stared at his cock.  It was still as long and 
hard as before, but wet now, from Jane�s mouth.  Wet from its cock-tip 
down to the sprouting of his bush, where his underpants ringed it.
         �You can both stay the night?� Jane asked.  Her eyes remained on 
Nick�s penis.  I didn�t know whether �both� meant him and his cock, or 
him and me.
         Nick looked at me.  �Sure,� he said.  His eyes returned to Jane, to 
her crop.
         Jane�s bare bosoms swayed as she tossed back her long rope of 
hair.  It was glossy.  It hung down her back, her sole covering above her 
waist.  Her miniskirt rode high on her thighs.  Her legs were long.  Black 
stockings, made of sheer silk, clung to her legs.  They stayed up of their 
own accord, she needed no garters to hold them.  She wore spiked heels.  
Her feet looked elegantly formal in her heels, despite the nudity of her 
bosoms.
         �Do you go riding a lot?� Nick asked Jane.  His cock was still 
smarting from the slapping kiss her crop had given it.  Yet he did not 
rub himself.  He didn�t dare, I think, for fear of spending himself on 
their rug.  He looked unbearably hard, like a submarine about to burst 
its rivets. 
         �No,� Jane answered.  Her voice was frank.  She gave a wave of 
her crop.  �Not in the conventional way,� she added.  �But in the 
unconventional, well, if the steed is handsome enough.  Then he finds 
our home is well equipped.�
         �For riding?� Nick asked.  
         �For riding and being ridden,� Jane replied.  Her eyes darted to her 
husband.  Nick�s followed.
         �You are well built for it,� Rob told Nick.  At the same time I felt 
his hand pass down between my thighs and feel within my slit.  I had 
my panties on, but his finger pushed deep.  I stifled a scream, barely, 
biting my lower lip.  My skirt was up, round my waist.  My undies 
showed, the bareness of my legs from my feet all the way up to my 
hips.
         �Do you think so?� Nick asked.  He let his cock jut freely at Rob.  
They were like two men in a locker room, comparing equipment.  But 
Rob�s pecker was still concealed within his trousers, only the bulge of 
it showing.
         Bare-breasted, Jane stood between the two men.  She toyed with 
her crop.  She glanced at both their crotches.
         �Would you like to do some riding?� Rob asked Nick.
         �Sure,� Nick answered.
         �And you?� Jane asked me.  I wanted to reply �What sort of 
riding?� but felt too embarrassed to.  Instead I only nodded.  I felt Rob�s 
finger touch my face.  He intruded it between my lips and I sucked upon 
it.  With his other hand he dawdled within my slit, where my legs met.
         �Unnnh!� I gasped, at a sudden, deeper movement of his lower 
hand.  It made me suck upon his finger more urgently.  I felt my hips 
buck forward on the couch.
         Jane�s eyes passed from me back to Nick.  �You look so 
uncomfortably hard,� Jane said to Nick.  �Perhaps if you took your 
trousers off completely?�
         �That might help, in the end,� Nick agreed.  He laughed.  Jane 
laughed.
         �How many years has it been since you wet the bed?� Jane asked.  
There was an air of spontaneity in her voice.
         �Huh?  Don�t worry.  I won�t wet your bed,� Nick answered.  He 
began to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.
         �No,� Jane said.  She blushed.  She waved her crop through the air, 
aimlessly.  Her heavy breasts bounced on her chest as she let out 
another laugh.  �I want you to,� she confessed, looking at Nick�s penis.  
�I want to put you in our big bed upstairs and see you wet it.�
         �That�s crazy,� Nick said.
         �No, we�ll all do it,� Jane offered.  She looked at her husband.  
�What do you think, honey?  I want his long cock, and yours, to wet the 
bed together.  And Bambi and I, with our cunts.  We�ll pee too.  It will 
help us all feel more free with each other.  It�ll be hard to have any 
inhibitions left, after that!�
         Rob bit my ear.
         �Owww,� I whined.  It hurt.  He apologized and licked it with his 
tongue.  Yet I sensed he�d enjoyed hearing me wince at the pain.  I felt a 
tremor in my thin, lightly tanned legs and it ran all the way up to the 
juncture of my thighs.  I felt moistness suffuse my slit.  His finger 
played with my opening.  I sucked on the finger he�d placed in my mouth 
more intensely.
         �Shall we hobble them, dear?� Jane asked her husband.  Nick, who 
was unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down off his hips, so that 
his bare ass already was making contact with their expenisvely covered 
couch, looked up.
         �Huh?� he asked.
         Jane smiled at him.  She waved her riding crop through the air.  It 
had, I�m afraid, the mesmerizing effect on him of a little girl�s magic 
wand.  �Yes!� Jane blurted, with a tantalizing frankness.  She lowered 
her wand-like crop and touched the bulbous tip of his cock.  Pre-cum 
drooled from its tip.  It fell onto their rug.  �There is always a bit of 
jealousy, don�t you think?� Jane asked.  �So we handle it, at least with 
first time visitors, by hobbling their feet.�  She smiled at Nick, at his 
cock, with her pretty, bewitching eyes.  Her full lips pouted a bit, as if 
to show disappointment if he should refuse.
         He could not.  His dick was too hard for that.  Instead, sitting 
bare-assed on their sofa, with a quick glance at Rob, he agreed.
         �Very good,� Jane said.  �Look, naughty boy, you�re drooling pre-
cum on our carpet.  You�ll have to pay us back for that.�
         Nick was half in the growing fantasy and still half in reality.  He 
gazed down between his knees, at his quavering cock, at the small 
puddle it had made on their rug.  
         �I don�t have the money to pay for--� Nick began.  Jane leaned 
forward.  Her large breasts hung off her slim frame, like ripe fruit 
quavering in a soft breeze.  Her nipples made two lovely ripe sprouts at 
the tips of her bosoms.  She placed a finger on his lips.
         �Shhhh.  There�s more than one way to pay,� Jane reassured Nick.  
He nodded mutely.
         Jane turned to Rob and myself.  �Let�s see her breasts.  Don�t just 
play in her slit,� she said to her husband.  She was eager to get our 
games underway, before Nick or I changed our minds.  Jane walked over 
to the couch where we sat and, without so much as a word requesting 
permission, lifted up my sweater.  I felt shock as my boobs tumbled 
out.  Yet there was a kind of wild ecstasy to being stripped, I found, 
especially by a woman.  I turned my face and sucked harder on Rob�s 
finger, while simultaneously trying to kiss his cheek.
         �Up.  Let�s get it completely off,� Jane urged.  She spoke to no one 
in particular, perhaps me, perhaps her husband, perhaps us both.  With 
her hands she lifted my sweater over my head.  I felt a curious sense of 
being trapped as the sweater ascended over my head, remained there a 
moment, my boobs swinging naked and free, and finally snapped past my 
head.  Jane drew my sweater up my arms and over my hands.  I was 
bare-chested now, like she was.  I compared her bosoms to mine.  Hers 
were bigger, but, for my age, mine were an attractive size.  I had 
melon-like bosoms, pertly offered.  Hers loomed larger still, lovely 
cantelopes with perfect cherry nipples.  We were both excited.  Our 
bosom tips stood out in pointed perfection, seeking caresses.
         Jane set my sweater aside and returned her hands to herself.  She 
reached back behind her fanny and unzipped her too-short skirt.  At the 
same time her husband undid mine.  A moment later and we were both 
stripped to her panties.  I wore sinfully slim panties, resembling a g-
string.  They were black.  Jane�s had a look of schoolgirl innocence to 
them.  Their whiteness matched the silly white shirtcuffs she wore on 
her wrists, and the starched white collar round her neck.  She had 
clearly dressed herself to play, and to be seen both in a dressed and 
undressed state.  I admired her planning.  Yet now, with her black vest 
and black miniskirt gone, her long black stockings looked out of place.  
She knew it, and walked over to Nick.
         �Do you like my stockings?� she asked.  She bent and pushed apart 
his legs and walked between them.  As she did his cock, long and thick, 
came between her own legs.  She let it stand up stiffly between her 
knees.  Then, placing both her hands on his shoulders, she bent and 
captured his dong between her thighs.  A bare column of penis-flesh, 
trapped between silk stockinged legs.  I nearly swooned looking at it.  
Nick nearly spoiled their rug with a load of cum.  Jane began scissoring 
her legs back and forth.
         �God!  Don�t!� Nick cried.  His whole frame wrenched upward in 
agonized delight.  His cock, trapped between her legs, for Jane gripped 
them hard together the moment he moved, was pulled, hard, unable to 
follow his body in its upward lurch.
         �Good slaves ask their masters and mistresses for instructions.  
They don�t try to tell them what to do,� Jane said to Nick.  She reached 
down between his legs and slid her fingers between the couch and his 
testicals.  She cupped his balls.  Gently she squeezed him.  �God, you�re 
full!� she exclaimed.  �You *did* save yourself for a week, as I told 
Bambi to instruct you.  Very good.  Now you must save yourself a little 
more, while I vent my feminist frustrations on you by torturing your 
big handsome penis.  Do you think you can manage it?�
         �Y-Yes,� Nick, his pants halfway down his thighs, still clothing 
his legs, but with his ass and balls and dick quite naked, stammered.
         �Very good,� Jane said.  �Now get your things off.  There�s special 
clothing a slave wears while he�s visiting.  Not street clothes.  Clothes 
that accentuate your wonderful body.  Strip, young man.  Your master 
and mistress have plans for you.
         Jane returned to Rob and myself.  �God, you�re slow!� she scolded 
her husband.  She pulled me off his lap.  �Get undressed, dear.  I�ll see 
to her,� she ordered Rob.  She knelt and, with me standing over her, 
feeling quite awkward, she unceremoniously stripped my panties down 
my legs.  A simple, fluid, graceful movement of her hands, and they 
were down to my feet.  She bade me to step out of them and I did.  �Now 
off with these heels,� Jane said.  �These are street shoes.  We don�t 
allow street shoes to be worn in the house.�
         �But--� I protested.  I liked my heels.  They lifted my bottom and 
made me look sexy and older.  Jane unbuckled them from my feet and 
tossed them aside.
         Jane looked up at me.  Her eyes seemed to take in the fleeciness 
of my cunt and, far above it, my face, both at the same time.  Gazing up 
from her kneeling position, between my legs, she told me, �You�re still 
a child.  You will dress as a child slave while you�re visiting here,� she 
said.
         �Yes,� I breathed.
         �Turn around,� Jane told me.  I turned, my bare breasts quivering 
on my chest.  I was made to face her with my behind.  She reached up 
and grabbed the pert twin mounds of my bottom.  �How sweet and 
rubbery they feel... just like a child�s,� Jane exclaimed.  �I can assure 
you that your lovely ass will get lots of attention during your stay,� 
she said.  �Do you know why?�
         �No... why?� I asked with a breathlessness I couldn�t explain.�  
Her long fingers gripped my cheeks and pulled them apart.  I felt air 
touch my anus.
         �Because mistress says it will.  You�re not to ask, just accept.  Do 
you understand?� Jane said to me.  I shivered, feeling my bottomhalves 
gripped by her hands and pulled apart.
         �Yes,� I managed to say.
         �Yes, mistress,� Jane commanded me.
         �Yes, mistress,� I said, though my voice was quiet and soft and 
uncertain.
         Jane let go of my bottom.  Even after she did, I could still feel the 
impress of her fingers.  I felt possessed.  Loved?  I�m not sure.  But 
definitely like one who was possessed.  By another.  Who, if she didn�t 
love me, at least had more than a passing admiration for me.  Just as I 
had more than a passing admiration for her husband.  He rose, he 
stripped off his clothes.  I gazed in wonder at his chest, his arms, his 
thighs.  Especially between his legs, where his cock grew long and thick 
and hard.  He seemed to like having me watch him undress, but he soon 
focused his attention on Nick.
         �Get her ready,� Rob said to his wife, gruffly, when he was 
completely nude, his clothes piled on the couch.  �I�ll handle him.�
         Rob walked over to Nick.  He stood over my boyfriend, who still 
sat on the couch.  They were both naked as jaybirds.  Nick�s pants were 
on the floor.  His shirt lay draped over the back of the couch.
         �If you don�t mind my saying so, you look great,� Rob said to Nick.  
Naked himself, with his cock stemming up from between his legs, he 
gazed down at Nick.  Especially at Nick�s penis.
         �Thanks,� Nick said.  �But I�m not gay,� he added.
         �Don�t worry.  I�m not either,� Rob said.  �But my wife likes 
having guys over, so I�m not uncomfortable being hard with another 
man.  If you don�t mind, I�m going to bind your feet.  You�ll still be able 
to walk.  It�s just a chain, fixed between your ankles.  It�s stashed 
under the couch,� he said.  He knelt down in front of Nick.  �Don�t worry.  
I won�t touch your dick,� Rob told my boyfriend.
         I watched with riveted eyes as Rob, hard as stone, his penis 
freely wiggling as he worked, pulled forth a length of chain from under 
the couch.  It had iron manacles at either end.  The inside of each 
manacle was lined with fur, to make it comfortable, but, all the same, 
when fixed to Nick�s ankles the iron cuffs were locked with a key.  They 
looked tight, secure.  Nick gazed down at his bare cock, his bare legs.  
He lifted one foot, then the other.
         �What are you going to do with that key?� Nick asked Rob.
         �Put it away, where you�ll never find it,� Rob told my boyfriend.  
He looked at my boyfriend�s testicles.  �Damn.  You�re full.  You look like 
you�ve got a pouch full of marbles or something,� Rob told Nick.
         �I�m not sure I like having my feet bound,� Nick said.  He lifted 
his feet, testing his new bonds.  His dick waggled like a big hard log 
between his legs.  �I mean, it�s stupid, isn�t it?� Nick asked.
         Rob stood up.  �What?  Having your legs fettered, but your dick 
free?� Rob asked.  �Better than the other way round, don�t you think?�  
He walked away.  �Care for another drink?� he asked.
         �You mean, while my feet are bound like this?� Nick asked.
         �Sure,� Rob answered.  �You�re going to have to pee in the bed, 
anyway.  Let me get you something.  We wouldn�t want you to disappoint 
Jane by taking too long to do it.�
         �Okay,� Nick said.  His voice was uncertain.  And no wonder!  Not 
only was he shackled, but I was suffering the same treatment, at Jane�s 
hands.  First, she slipped small, ankle-high socks on my feet.  They 
were soft and warm.  I liked them.  But I didn�t like the manacles she 
fitted on me.  They were big and heavy and made me feel like her 
captive.  A chain clinked between them.  When I lifted one of my feet, I 
found out how heavy the manacles were.  They felt like they�d been used 
on Roman galley slaves.  They were the real thing, despite their fur 
lining.  I shivered, gazing down past my breasts at them.
         �Do I have to wear these?� I asked.
         �Yes.  Now here�s your drink,� Jane said.  Rob reappeared.  He 
handed me another Cherie.  Reluctantly I drank it.  I tasted less 
alchohol, more water.  I suspected he wanted me to drink several, in 
turn, so I�d be ready when we went upstairs to pee in their bed.
         Nick downed his drink, quickly.  I think he was nervous about what 
was to happen.  Imagine, both of us captives!  I wouldn�t have guessed 
we�d let ourselves in for something like this.  Yet we had, somehow, 
and I felt a tingle of fear up between my legs, gazing at him, feeling 
the softness and tenderness and absolute vulnerability of my own 
nudity.  Jane got a collar and bound it around my throat.  It had a hook 
for a leash along its side.  In front, a small bell hung suspended from it.  
Whenever I moved, the bell jingled.  I felt like a kitten, sock-footed and 
collared, waiting to do my master�s and mistress� bidding.  I sipped 
more of my drink.  My tummy was beginning to feel full.  I would have to 
pee soon.
         �Let�s go upstairs,� Jane suggested.  With a switch of her crop, 
lightly tapping my bottom, I could feel that her �suggestion� was to be 
taken quite seriously.  I offered no resistance.  As I headed for the 
stairs, Rob hooked a leash into my collar.  He let it dangle down 
between my breasts, unheld.  Its handle hung suspended against the 
thatch of my pussy.  It swayed as I walked, teasing me.
         Jane walked in her high heels, her nude bottom swaying 
provocatively, over to my boyfriend.  She reached between Nick�s legs 
and grabbed his cock.  It was quite direct, the way she grabbed him.  No 
soft words, no blandishments, no compliments about his size.  She 
simply bent, grabbed him, and pulled.  He was forced to stand.  He 
gasped, with a quickened desire to spend.  She ignored his need.  She let 
go of him quickly as she�d seized him and fetched a big leather collar 
and put it around his neck.  It had no bell.  She gave his taut asscheeks a 
quick switch of her crop when she�d gotten him properly collared.  Rob, 
stepping up to my boyfriend, quickly fastened a leash to his throat.  It 
hung down past his cock.  When he stepped forward, at Jane�s urging, it 
banged against the shaft of his dick.
         �Yes, let�s all get upstairs,� Jane said cheerily.  She watched, 
mesmerized, as Nick walked forward.  He had a small tight ass and she 
told him it was cute.
         �Thanks,� Nick answered.
         �I can�t wait to make it sore,� Jane added.  She looked at me.  
�Have you ever had anything up your butt before?� she asked me.
         �No,� I lied.  I didn�t wish to confess to my wild nights in the 
cave.  It had been last summer.  It seemed like a long time ago now.  I�d 
been almost perfectly chaste since then.
         �Well, this is the weekend to test all those sorts of things,� Jane 
said.  �And the place.  Here, being on your best behavior will mean 
something quite different from what it means in the normal world.  Do 
you understand?�
         �Yes,� I answered.
         �We�ll see if you do,� Rob said, ominously.  He pulled on the leash 
dangling from my collar.  �Come on,� he said.  �Your cuffs aren�t that 
heavy.  Start climbing the stairs.�
         It was very unusual, walking upstairs with cuffs on my feet.  
They weighed down my legs.  Yet, despite the heaviness of my feet, the 
rest of me was free.  My bosoms bounced with unfettered abandon on my 
chest, free of any bra.  My hips wiggled as salaciously as I chose.  My 
bottom bulbed brazenly behind me, its split cheeks making an inviting 
grind each time I lifted a foot to place it on the next step.  My slit 
moistened freely.  My nipples perked with springy excitement at the 
tips of my nipples.  I moved my head, gazing up to the top of the stairs, 
where our bed waited.  I looked behind me, at Rob, following, with his 
bare penis waggling out in front of him like some obscene sausage.  And 
Nick, my sometime boyfriend, walked with the same freedom, his cock 
nakedly upstanding with a fierceness that made me frightened of it.  
         �How does it feel, to walk with your feet shackled but your self, 
especially your sex, free and unclothed?� Jane asked my boyfriend.
         �Weird,� Nick replied.  And it was the same feeling for me, though 
I was a girl.
         �You�ll enjoy many new sensations during your stay here,� Jane 
told my boyfriend.  She whisked her crop very lightly across his bare 
fanny.
         �Some I�m sure I could do without,� Nick told her.
         �It is not for a slave to choose.  It�s for the slave�s master to 
choose,� Jane told him.
         �This way.  The stable is down this hall,� Rob told me at the top 
of the stairs.
         �The stable?� I cried.  I clapped a hand to my naked breasts.  �I 
thought we were going to bed!�
         Rob laughed.  �We nicknamed our guest bedroom the stable,� he 
said.  �You�ll see why in a minute.�
         And I did.  It was a large room, down at the end of their hall, with 
a big, sumptuous bed in it.  But there the resemblance with a guest 
room you�d see in any other home ended.  This bed had a long, black-
railed headboard and baseboard at either end.  It was high up off the 
floor, necessitating a three-step wooden stairs to mount it.  There 
were clasps where leashes, like those Nick and I wore, could be hung.  
On a bedside table stood a busy array of phials, condoms, tubes of oil 
and jars of ointment.  On another table, on the opposite side of the bed, 
stood a collection of rare and exotic bottled liqueurs, plus glasses.  
Above the bed, hanging like a threat, was a whip.  It was long.  It had 
many tails.  They�d all been carefully looped round the nail from which 
the whip hung.  
         Mirrors were spaced round the bed, suspended on the walls.  I saw 
myself at once, several times over.  My bare breasts, stiff nippled.  My 
flat tummy, my nakedly displayed bush.  My legs, my stockinged, 
shackled feet.  I stared at the collar round my throat.  I moved.  The bell 
on my collar tinkled.
         Rob, holding me by my leash, entered the room with me.  He was 
tall.  His shoulders were broad.  His chest was hairy.  His stomach was 
like a washboard and his cock stuck up like a mule�s.  His balls swung 
easily between his thighs.  Nick entered behind him.  His penis was 
long, thick, excited.  Jane entered with Nick, holding him by the leash 
fixed to his throat.  We were quite a pair of couples.  Two of us 
masters, two slaves.  I shivered, looking at my captive self.  Had I 
really let myself in for this?  What would happen to me, all shackled, 
with my sex freely moistened, my tummy warm, my bosoms so ripely 
offered?  And what about that whip on the wall?  Was it just a 
decoration?  Or was it applied to �guests� of Jane and Rob when they 
met with their hosts� displeasure?
         �Let�s get in bed,� Jane said.  �There�s drinks there, within reach, 
on the table.  Did you put a shower curtain under the sheet, dear?� she 
asked Rob.
         �Always,� Rob answered.
         �Good,� Jane said.  �You two will like doing this,� she said to 
myself and Nick.  �Its rather impolite, I suppose, peeing in a bed you�re 
sharing with others.  But it does make for a complete feeling of 
freedom, afterward, once you get over your embarrassment at doing it.�  
         Rob pulled me forward by my leash.  He led me to the bed�s steps.  
I mounted them, slowly, due to the chains round my feet.  My bottom 
wiggled behind me, invitingly.  I tried to keep it from swaying but I was 
nervous.  It seemed to swing with a life of its own.  I felt the cheeks 
touching, the tightness of my crack between.  Rob had already touched 
my rosette, downstairs, and I could feel his eyes drilling between my 
cheeks as he watched me mount up.
         I reached the top of the bed.  I knelt upon it.  My slit showed 
behind me.  Someone whistled.  Suddenly, I gave a salacious waggle to 
my ass.  �Oh, that whip looks so big!� I cried.  I knew it would tease, 
and perhaps get me in trouble, but I couldn�t help it.  I had two very 
randy men behind me.  The thought of Rob and Nick staring at my ass 
made me feel voluptous.  I was a Siren, who would dash both men�s hard 
cocks to pieces within my soft dell.
         �My, she�s a tease,� I heard Jane say.  I noted a bit of jealousy in 
her voice.  She swished her crop.  I felt it zing past my naked ass, 
catching only air.  I shivered and wiggled my bottom again.  Had she 
tried to strike me?  The thought of teasing her husband, and incurring 
her wrath, made me feel decadant.  I put my face down to the bed, right 
where I was, and pushed up my bottom.  
         �Mmmm, I think I�ll go to sleep,� I said.  The men, mounting behind 
me, would meet my bottom and have to climb over it.  Or perhaps do 
something else with it.  I felt brazen.  A girl, free at last from societal 
inhibitions, I could play Princess at last.  At least, I hoped so.  I wished 
to be coddled, spoilt.  I showed them my bottom and hoped they liked it 
as much as I liked showing it.  I would make them lose themselves, just 
looking at me.  Like those girls in those magazines that guy had.  Cherie.  
Yes.  I would be Miss Cherie.  Princess Cherie.
         WHACK!
         �OH!� I cried.  Truly surprised, my head bolted up.  I clutched at 
my ass.  It felt as if a hot brand had suddenly been placed across it.  But 
there was nothing there now, just my naked seat.  Jane�s crop had 
struck it and bounced away.  The imprint of it remained.  �Ohhh, why did 
you do that?� I whined.  �I�m sleepy.�  I put my face down on the bed 
again, perhaps inviting more strokes.  But I kept my hands firmly 
clapped to my ass.
         �How darling she looks.  See how she moves it about,� Jane 
observed.  I realized she was talking about me.  I tried to still the 
movement of my hips but found I couldn�t.  My seat hurt too much, from 
being struck with her crop.  �Take away your hands, dear.  Let us see 
the working of your cheeks as you move it,� Jane suggested.  How 
obscene, I thought.  I should not wish for my bare bottom to be lurid 
entertainment.  Not like that!
         �No,� I said.  My face, pressed to the coverlet of the bed, slightly 
distorted my voice.  It made me sound younger than I was, like a sleepy, 
recalcitrant child.
         �Perhaps in a little while,� Rob said.  I heard the steps creak.  I 
felt someone mount the bed behind me.  Hands seized my hips.  
Calloused hands.  I felt an indriving between my bottom cheeks.  I 
gasped, loudly.
         There was a grunt.  Pressure.  Upon my rosette.  I put a finger to 
my lips and big upon it.  Hard.
         The pressure against my bottomhole was harder.  It urged.
         �Rob, you don�t even have a condom on!  You�re not lubricated,� 
Jane admonished her husband.
         �I don�t care,� Rob replied.  His voice was gruff.  I tried to rise 
and he shoved me down, hard, upon the bed.  He seized both my hips with 
his big hands and yanked my bottom up toward him.  My cheeks splayed 
apart, widened by his thick cock.  I felt an even greater pressure upon 
my anus and suddenly he had forced my sphincter.
         The head of his cock lodged in me.  I let out a shrill scream.  He 
was big!  There was a thump on the bed and I looked up to see Nick, my 
sometime boyfriend, with his own big cock bobbing freely before my 
face.
         �Sorry to intrude like this,� Rob said in a gruff, half-joking voice 
to Nick.
         �It�s okay.  We�re not married or anything,� Nick answered.  �I�m 
doing her mouth,� he said.  He lifted my chin.  I tried to keep my lips 
compressed.  I didn�t like being used in this way, without coddling.  Yet 
Nick�s fingers prised my jaws open.  He stuffed himself in.  I gagged.  I 
heard Rob and Nick laugh.  
         �Oh, you men will ruin everything!� Jane said, somewhere behind 
me.
         DING DONG!  
         �What th-?� I heard Rob say.  The sound of the doorbell surprised 
Nick.  His cock drew back a little.  I managed to lift my face.  I got his 
penis out of my mouth.  It hung wetly between his legs, near my lips.  I 
took a deep breath.  It felt good to be free of it.  I could breathe again.  
Yet, gazing at it, I found it a spectacular sight.  I kissed it, lightly.
         �Well I can�t just--!� Rob groused behind me.
         �You don�t expect *me* to, do you?� Jane asked.
         �Just fucking ignore it,� Rob said.  I felt my bottom eased off his 
prick.  There was a pop, as of a balloon being drawn off a helium 
inflation tube.  In this case, it was Rob�s dick, and I was being taken off 
it.  My bottomhole, widened on his cock, felt empty after he pulled 
himself free of me.  I shoved my hips back.  I wanted.  Despite his 
thickness, his rudeness, I wanted him, now that I�d come so close to 
having him.
         �It might be little Lisa,� Jane said to Rob.  �You know her parents 
drop her off sometimes, when they have a fight.  We can�t just leave her 
outside.  It�s raining, for God�s sake!�
         I heard Rob begin to descend the bed�s steps.  He dismounted them, 
as quickly as he�d come up them a minute earlier.  My bottom longed for 
his return.  My cunt was wet.
         Nick sat open legged on the bed.  His dick stood up straight.  It 
sparkled with my saliva.  Yet I paused, as he did, wondering what our 
hosts were up to.  Still crouching on the bed, I turned, gazed behind me.  
I saw my bare bottom reflected in a mirror.  It seemed silly, mooning 
myself like that.  In front of my reflection stood Rob.  His cock was 
hard and the knob of his penis showed moisture, from his precum and 
the excitement of my bottomhole.  
         DING DONG!
         �Get it.  She�ll catch cold,� Joan said.  Her husband balked.  �I�m 
not going downstairs naked,� Joan said.  
         �Well, what do you think I�m doing, wearing a suit and tie?� Rob 
asked.  His hard-on stood out painfully in front of him.
         �Just get a bath robe or something,� Joan said.  �You�re the man 
of the house.  I�ll see to our guests.�  She tapped his bottom with her 
crop.  �Get going.  You�re older than me too, by more than a decade.  I�m 
practically a child.  I�m only 19.�
         �Thanks a fucking lot,� Rob said.  �Should I stop off at the 
bathroom and jerk myself off first?�
         �No,� Joan said.  �Of course not.�
         �Well I�ve got a fucking hard on that�s a mile long!� Rob said.  
�What am I supposed--�
         �Men who are flashers put on raincoats and nobody sees theirs,� 
Joan said.
         �Men who are flashers don�t have big ones like I do, I�ll bet,� Rob 
countered.
         �Move your bare ass, sir.  Please?� Joan said.  She gave him an 
innocent, wide-eyed look.  It won his heart over, unlike her earlier 
scoldings.
         �Well, alright,� Rob said.  �I am older than you.�
         DING DONG!
         �DAMMIT I�m coming!� Rob swore.  �Or I hope not.  Damn my cock 
bounces around when I�m hard.  It�s like walking with a fucking sausage 
in front of me.�
         �You didn�t mind it earlier,� Jane said.
         �I�m going to kill your goddamn relatives,� Rob said over his 
shoulder, to his wife, as he left the room.  �Including that brat niece of 
yours.�
         �She�s only eight,� Jane said.  �She can�t help having bitchy 
parents.�
         I listened as Rob got a bath robe from a hallway closet and 
tramped downstairs.  We all listened, tensely, myself and Nick sitting 
on the bed, wearing our shackles, Jane standing beside the bed, holding 
her crop.         
         The door opened.  I heard the wind gush in the front door.
         �I�m collecting for the nudespaper,� I heard a high-pitched, 
female voice say.
         �The what?!� Rob asked.
         �The nudespaper.�
         �We don�t get any nudist�s paper,� Rob answered.  I saw Jane bite 
her lip, trying not to laugh.  It did sound funny.
         �The local paper.  Mind if I come in?  It�s starting to rain and I 
don�t wanna get wet!� the female voice said.  
         �Wait, you can�t just--� Rob protested.  The door shut.  
         �Oh, God,� Jane gasped.  I figured the paper girl had been shut out, 
but she sensed the girl had, in fact, been shut in.  Downstairs.  With 
Rob.
         �If my hair gets wet I�ll have to wash it again,� a female voice 
said.  �I just washed it before I started my collecting.�  
         There was a pause.  
         �Sorry, I didn�t mean for my bathrobe to fall open,� I heard Rob 
say.  I felt myself stiffen.  There was obviously a child downstairs.  A 
girl child.  Like me, except younger.  Had he accidentally exposed 
himself to her?
         �You�ve got a very big penis, Mr. Albert,� I heard the female voice 
say.  There was a tone of admiration in her voice.  �I always knew you 
had a really big one.�
         �Really, I�m sorry,� Rob said.  �How do you know my name?  I�ve 
never even seen you before?�
         �I�m your paper girl!� the soft, small voice said.  It sounded happy.  
�I was collecting for the nudespaper, but you can show me your thing 
instead.  You�ve still gotta pay me, though.  $4.95.  And not a penny less, 
like my manager says, or I�ll have to make it up myself.  Mind if I see 
your thing again?�
         �No--� Rob said.  �Don�t just pull open my bathrobe like that!� he 
sounded almost helpless.  I felt like giggling.  A big, hunky ex-football 
player like him, reduced to helplessness by a small child!
         �Wow,� the high-pitched voice said.  It was full of admiration.  
�Mind if I pull on it?  Will it squirt me if I do?�
         �No, wait--  Yikes!  Don�t yank on it.  It�s ATTACHED to me!� Rob 
said.
         �Yeah, just like my cousin�s,� the girl said.  �Except yours is 
about ten times bigger.  I always knew you had the biggest one in the 
whole world, Mr. Albert!�
         �Please, you�ll make me squirt on you,� Rob begged.
         �That�s okay.  My cousin squirted on me, once.  Just don�t get any 
in my hair, okay?  It�s really sticky.  I just washed my hair.  I don�t 
want to be out in the rain, because I�ll get it all wet.  But my mom told 
the babysitter to make me go collecting, rain or no rain, because I was 
lazy and didn�t do it all month.�
         �That�s very nice but--� Rob answered.
         �Of course,� the female voice said, sighing loudly.  �Now she�s in 
my basement, making out with her boyfriend.  They�ll *do* it all night.  
And I�m supposed to go collecting, out getting my hair wet.  Well, no 
way.  And I know where my mom is too.  At the Shady Oaks Motel.  She 
has a new boyfriend, you know.  The manager of the Shady Oaks-- his 
daughter is a friend of mine at school.  She tells me whenever she�s 
watching T.V. in the lobby of the motel, for her dad?  And she says my 
mom comes by, and checks in, with her new boyfriends.  She�s been 
doing it for a whole couple of years.  And all that time I thought my 
mom was attending PTA meetings.  Well, now I know better!� the girl 
declared.  
         �God, this is useless,� Rob said.  �Would you stop pulling on me?�
         �I thought you were gonna squirt on me?  That would be pretty 
cool,� the girl said.  �Just not in my hair, okay?  I�ll bet I could catch it 
all in my mouth, like they do in those movies my dad has, at his 
apartment.  Mom won�t let me go there anymore, since I found my dad�s 
movies.�  Another sigh.  �I miss my dad.  Do you suppose he has a big 
one, like you do?�
         Jane, inspired by the girl�s words, turned to Nick.  She grabbed 
hold of his cock.
         �Oh, God!  How sweet she sounds!� Jane breathed.  At once she 
popped Nick�s cockhead in her mouth, while at the same time placing a 
hand on her snatch and rubbing herself.  Nick, inspired, picked her up off 
the floor.  Jane barely stifled a shriek of surprise.  He plopped her on 
the bed and shoved his penis more deeply into her mouth.  For my part, 
seeing her slit so close, I began nuzzling it.  It smelled fresh, feminine.  
I wasn�t into licking girls but I felt a strange desire to, anyway.  I 
tongued her slit.  Jane jerked her hips in response.  I was shackled, yet 
she was the one under my command.  I tongued her more deeply.  She 
jerked again, begged me to stop.  I found myself enjoying her responses.  
I decided to bring her as close to the edge as I could, then leave her.  
She would suffer, begging to be fucked, but I�d leave it to the men to 
take her.  Perhaps they�d hold back, and �mistress jane,� would become 
the victim, instead of me.  As I licked her I rubbed my own slit.  I 
dreamed of seeing her tied to the bed, her legs splayed.  She�d be left 
abed all weekend, while we played around her house.  She�d beg to be 
brought off but we�d leave her to hunger and starve.  I would have both 
men to myself.  Downstairs, I vaguely listened as Rob�s conversation 
with the girl continued.
         �Mmmm, this is fun, pulling on you,� the girl told Rob.  �Go ahead, 
see?  I�ve got my mouth open.  AAAAAAA.  Squirt it right in, Mr. Albert.  
I can take all of it.  I�ll bet it tastes like toothpase!  I use lots of 
toothpaste when I brush my teeth.  Colgate-- it�s the best for kids!  
Even if I am 12, I still like the flavor.�
         �Please,� I heard Rob say.  Or was it Nick?  I wasn�t sure anymore.  
I was too lost in Jane�s slit, tonguing her, savoring her impassioned, 
hip-jerking responses.  I heard her ask me to take my mouth away.  It 
was a sort of yelp.  But, as she spoke it, she pushed her hips at my face.
         The girl downstairs was mesmerized by Rob�s cock.  He, for his 
part, was already primed, and needed little encouragement to cum.  
Somehow he managed not to.  Instead, with the paper girl still holding 
his dick, he walked in frustration up the stairs, and back into our 
bedroom.
         �What am I supposed to do with this little trollop?� he asked 
Jane.  She shrieked.  It was muffled, though, for Nick�s penis was 
jammed down her throat.  She managed to disengage her mouth from 
Nick�s cock.  She turned to face them.
         I lifted my face.  I saw shock in Nick�s eyes.  In Jane�s, also.  I 
expected Nick to sperm Jane�s face, his dick looked so hard and 
purplish.  I had Jane�s vaginal juice smeared on my cheeks.  I turned, 
and looked over my shoulder at the girl standing with Rob.  My breasts 
hung pendant and nude.  I was crouching.  My ass mooned her.
         �Rob, why did you bring her in here?� Jane asked.
         �Gosh, what�re you doing?� the girl asked.  I gazed at her.  She 
was, indeed, about 12.  She had gently swelling hips.  Breasts bulged on 
her chest, small, but growing big for a girl of her age and size.  She 
bore a remarkable resemblance to Amber.  Her hair was long, but 
brunette, whereas Amber�s had been blonde.  She had it pulled back 
behind her in an efficient pony tail.  Her cheeks were rosy.  She had long 
lashes, bee-stung lips.  They looked ripe for sucking, and I saw she was 
holding Rob in her small first.  His cockhead stuck out one end of her 
fist.  The remainder of his shaft extruded from the other end, where, 
eventually, it met with the hairy bush of his pubic hair, between his 
thick legs.
         I realized the girl didn�t know about sucking, else she wouldn�t 
have been begging Rob to sperm her.  She would simply have put her lips 
to him.  She held him innocently, by his cock, looking rather like a girl 
taking a pony from its stable for a ride.  Well, in Rob�s case, not a pony.  
A stallion.  He was big and brawny, and ex-football player.  She was 
small, just 12, with gently rounded, growing breasts, and hips poised 
halfway between childhood and womanhood.  Yes, she looked a lot like 
Amber.  I wondered if she�d prove as adventurous.
         �Why don�t you take your clothes off?� I teased.  �Then you can 
see what we�re doing.�  I felt myself blushing.  I knew it was 
embarrassment at being seen in the nude.  Well, let her undress, then, 
too.  I was only 13.  If I could be nude, perhaps she could be also.  She 
had the body for it.
         Challenging the girl to undress, I found, did little to relieve my 
embarrassment.  For I soon realized that she was not only marvelling at 
our nudity.  She was also taking note of my collar, and Nick�s, and the 
manacles we wore on our legs.  When I moved the bell round my neck 
jingled.  I felt like a jingle-bell.
         �Katie, we�re doing something very naughty,� Jane said.  Somehow 
the young woman had managed to get control of herself, despite the 
tongue-lashing I�d given her cunt.  She shivered.  Her bare bosoms 
jiggled heavily on her chest.  Her nipples remained erect, ready for 
more action.  Jane tossed back her long hair.  �I think you should go 
home, but--� she looked at her husband.
         �Rather late now,� Rob said.  He seemed to come to his senses 
too.  He stood with his cock still in the girl�s hand, his own big frame 
poised rather nervously between spending and not.  The girl, 
unhelpfully, began stroking his dick with her fingers.
         �You�re very long,� she whispered.  
         Rob made a decision.  He dropped his bath robe off his broad 
shoulders.  He flexed the muscles of his chest.  He gazed down at the 
girl.
         �You�ve got to either join us, or go home,� Rob said.  �Your choice.  
And quit yanking on my dick.  I don�t want to spend yet.  Especially on 
you.�
         The girl�s face fell.  �How about if I get naked?� she asked.
         �Okay.  Get naked, then,� Rob said.
         �Do I have to take off everything?� the girl asked.  Relief showed 
on Rob�s face as she let go of his cock, to undress.
         �Yes.  Everything,� Rob replied.  �When does your mom get back?� 
         �Not �til tommorrow,� the girl answered.  �Don�t worry, Mr. 
Albert.  I�ll be good.�
         �Actually,� Jane said, picking up the crop she�d dropped upon the 
bed.  �The point is to be bad.�  She grinned at me.  
         I watched the girl undress.  I was said her name to myself.  
�Katie�.  A sweet name.  I felt young, adventurous.  I certainly couldn�t 
get in trouble if the paper girl joined us.  Neither, I doubted, could Jane.  
If anyone got in trouble, it would be the men.  And, while I liked them, I 
didn�t possess a cock.  That�s what would do her in, in the end.  That�s 
what would cause trouble.  A penis.  Something I didn�t have.  And I 
cared about Rob, and Nick, but in the end they were just friends.  If 
Katie wanted to take a tumble in the nude, so be it.  Let the chips fall 
where they may, on her and them.  Anyway, I had shackles on my feet, 
and felt quite embarrassed about it.  Let her join us and perhaps she�d 
wind up shackled too, and quit looking at me with such curiousity.
         Katie pulled off her clothes.  She did it matter-of-factly, as one 
preparing for a bath.  When she was nude, she reached back and pulled 
the ribbon out of her hair, releasing her pony tail.
         �Okay, I�m ready!� Katie said enthusiastically.  She gazed at us.  
Her bosoms stood up perkily on her chest.  They were bigger than tennis 
balls, and each had an excited nipple at its tip.  They were pink nipples, 
childish in color, like mine, like Jane�s.  None of us were rosy red-
nippled women yet.  That would come in later years.  
         I glanced down between Katie�s legs.  Her pubic thatch was 
already growing in.  Soft, small wisps, decorating her strategically 
between her legs, covering up the childish bareness of her muffin.  Yes, 
she was ready.  I flexed my shoulders back, proffering my breasts.  I 
felt alert, quick-nerved.  If she came near me, and made me feel silly 
for having shackles on my feet, I�d dart my tongue into her snatch and 
make her pay.
         �Here, get up on the bed,� Rob said to the girl.  He escorted her up 
the bed�s wooden steps like a chaperone escorting a girl to her first 
dance.  Katie mounted them daintily, her boobies bouncing in front of 
her, her hips wiggling with childish glee.  She was aware of all our 
eyes upon her.
         �God, what a small, tight ass,� Rob said, gazing at Katie from 
behind.
         �Do you like my bottom?� Katie asked artlessly.  She gave it an 
extra wiggle.  �I�m going to be a model when I grow up.  That�s what my 
uncle tells me.�  
         Katie plopped down on all fours on the bed.  �Mmmm, it�s such a 
nice, big soft bed,� she said, admiringly.  She crawled across it.  She 
sat down next to Nick.  Her legs spread and crossed over each other, 
like an Indian�s.  Nick was sitting the same way.  She gazed between his 
legs.  She looked with open wonder at his cock.  
         �Wow, you�re as big as Mr. Albert!� Katie said to Nick.
         �Careful,� Nick cautioned, as the girl�s small fingers reached 
across his hairy thigh to touch him.  �I�m right on the brink of 
shooting.�
         �Yum!� Katie said.  But Nick caught her questing fingers, and 
lifted her hand, so that he couldn�t touch his cock.  Her hand wiggled in 
the air, grasping.
         �Katie, you must be very good, now,� Jane told the girl.  
         �Okay,� Katie agreed.  �What are we going to do?�
         Jane looked at me, at Nick, at Rob.  Then she laughed and looked 
back at Kate.  �Actually, we�re going to, like I said, do something very 
naughty.  We�re going to wet the bed.�
         �Wet the bed?!� Katie hollared.  �I do my best to try *not* to do 
that!�  She put her free hand, the one Nick wasn�t holding aloft, to her 
newly furred mount.  She rubbed herself.
         �Well, it�s a little different when you�re in bed with us,� Jane 
told the girl.  �At least, when you�re in this bed with us.  We�re all 
going to have drinks now, and we�re going to pee in the bed.  Okay?�
         �Will I get my hair wet?� Katie asked.
         �You might,� Jane said.  �But you can wash it again, afterwards.�
         �I don�t want to get my hair wet,� Katie said, still rubbing her 
muff which, I suspected, was already growing moist, wetting her pubic 
hair, if not the hair on her head.
         �Don�t worry.  I�ll wash your hair for you if it gets all wet and 
sticky, okay?� Jane asked.  She was clearly eager to get on with it, and 
no wonder.  Both our men were ready to cum.  She didn�t want to lose 
their loads to the sheets.  It was all a game, and they were to put 
themselves to us ere it was over. 
         Rob reached under the table holding the drinks.  He opened it.  I 
realized it had a small refrigerator sequestered under it.  He pulled out 
a bucket of ice and thumped it down among the bottles of liquor.  He 
pulled out several bottles of juice.  Pineapple, Orange, Lime.  He took 
out two bottles of water, and a spritzer bottle of selzer.  Then he 
reached under the bed, and took out shackles, a collar, and a leash for 
Katie.  He put them on the bed.  Then he hoisted himself up onto the bed, 
not bothering with the steps.
         Jane attached my leash to a clasp at the head of the bed.  I 
watched, wide-eyed.  I realized I wouldn�t be able to leave the bed 
without her permission.  My bell round my neck jingled with my every 
movement.  Rob poured me a drink and told me to drink it down.  I 
obeyed.  It was mostly juice and water.
         The same was done to Nick.  Jane attached him.  Rob poured him a 
drink.
         Little Katie was next.  
         �Why do I have to wear big chains on my feet?� Katie asked, her 
voice a mixture of curiosity and indignation, as Jane locked her ankles 
into manacles.  
         �So that you can be very good, like a slave; and if you�re bad, so 
you can�t run away from your punishement,� Jane explained.
         �Oh, I saw a movie about slaves the other night,� Katie said.  �Big 
men slaves.�  She looked at Nick, at his shackled feet.  �They looked 
sorta like him.  Big and strong.  It was called Parkus, or something.  
They all revolted and lived happily ever after.  Or at least I think they 
did.  It got kinda boring so I switched over to another movie, The 
Adventures of Gumby.�
         Jane put a collar round the girl�s throat.  It had a bell.  It jingled, 
like mine.  She hooked the girl�s leash to a clasp at the head of the 
iron-railed bed.
         �There,� Jane said.  �Give her something non-alchoholic, dear.  We 
don�t want to get her drunk.�
         �Mmmm, I�m thirsty from all my collecting,� Katie said.  Rob 
handed her a drink.  She drank it down lustily, asked for more.
         Nick, perhaps to avoid Katie�s questing fingers, rolled over onto 
his stomach.  He flexed the cheeks of his ass.  It was small, tight.  A 
male ass, with hair in all the places a woman finds seductive.  Jane 
struck him across his bottom.  
         �OW!� Nick groaned.
         �Roll over,� Jane said.  �We want to see your penis.  No lying on 
your stomach.�
         �Damn.  You could have just asked me to roll over,� Nick said.  He 
obeyed, grouchily, putting his bare butt to the sheets and letting his big 
cock spring free.  It stood up like a flagpole.  I wished I had a ribbon.  I 
would have tied it to his cockhead so he could fly it for me, like a flag.  
It would be the flag of Princess Cherie.
         �What�s that?� Katie asked.  She gazed with wide-eyed wonder at 
Jane�s riding crop.
         �It�s a riding crop,� Jane said.  �It was made for horses, to help 
them behave.  But you can use it on men too, if you wish.  Or bad little 
girls who ring their bells too much.  Don�t wiggle so much, darling.  
Just lie still and let my husband, Mr. Albert, pass you glassfulls of 
juice.  Would you like some more juice?�
         �Sure, and a riding crop too,� Katie answered.
         �Perhaps you can play with my riding crop later,� Jane said.
         �Or have it played upon you,� I said.  Katie didn�t catch my 
meaning.  Jane frowned slightly.
         �Pull up the covers, Bambi.  This is to be an elegant party.  We�re 
to be tucked into bed, just as if we were going to sleep.  Katie, settle 
down.  Quit trying to grab Nick�s cock.  You�ll get to have fun with it 
soon enough.  Rob, dim the lights, please, dear.  Nightie-night everyone.  
Keep our glasses full, Rob.�
         �Yes, dear,� the perennial refrain of the husband, was spoken in 
reply by Rob to his wife.  Yet she was no shrew.  Not yet, anyway.  She 
was 19, young and lissome and slender, with a long rope of black hair 
and adventurous eyes.  I liked her, even if she was a bit too fond of her 
riding crop.  I hoped to be like her when I was 19.  Married, to a wealthy 
hunk of a husband, with plenty of money to burn on whatever pleasures I 
wished.  She wore bits of jewelry.  Earrings, a ring, a diamond bangle on 
one of her wrists.  They sparkled as the lights dimmed, creating a kind 
of light all their own.  We snuggled down under the sheet and the cover.  
I made sure everyone got properly covered, reaching over and pulling up 
the covers until we were all snugly installed in the bed.  Jane had to 
warn Katie not to grope for Nick�s cock under the sheets.  Katie obeyed, 
reluctantly.  Then Jane had to tell her to lie still, and not ring her bell 
so much, by moving and squirming about.
         �This isn�t a slumber party for little girls, dear,� Jane told Katie.  
�It�s a mature, adult party.  Now lie still and enjoy your juice.�
         �Okay,� Katie agreed.
         We lay abed in the darkened room.  Nick and Rob made the covers 
stick up, tent-like, where their cocks were, for they were both quite 
stiff and not about to lessen until they�d cum.  It was strange, I 
thought.  Neither man seemed able to control his big, long, schlong.  It 
got hard of its own accord, when he became excited.  And, once hard, it 
stayed hard, until he�d spurted out his load.  There seemed no other 
state for it.  The poor man had no control over it.  I suppose it was 
rather like a girls� nipples.  Mine were stiff, atop my boobies, and 
Jane�s and Katie�s were too.  We were all either stiff nippled, or stiff 
cocked.  My slit was moist, and I knew Jane�s, and even Katie�s, were 
too.  The men�s hard cocks oozed pre-cum at their tips.  And yet we 
were all trying to be polite, discreet, lying in the bed with the lights 
dimmed and the covers tucked up around us.  I heard ice clink in glasses.  
Katie sipped her juice beside me.  I sipped my juice-laden cocktail.  
Jane asked if I wanted more.  I paused, finished my drink, and passed 
my glass to her.  She passed it to Rob, who refilled it.
         At one end of our bed lay Rob, who served us drinks in the dark.  
At the other end, perhaps to guard us three females, lay Nick.  Next to 
Nick was Katie, next to Rob was Jane.  In between Jane and Katie, I lay, 
snug as a bug at the center of the group.  I tried to let my thoughts 
drift.  It was pleasant, decadent, drinking in bed, knowing you were 
supposed to wet the bed.  I still couldn�t believe I�d actually do that.  
But I dutifully let my glass be refilled, and drank.
         �Do you guys have a bathroom?� Katie asked, her voice loud in the 
darkened, hushed room.
         �Why?� Jane answered.  There was a note of merriment in her 
voice.
         �Because I have to go,� Katie said frankly.
         �Has your juice filled up your tummy?� Jane asked.
         �Yes.  Most definitely,� Katie said.  �Where�s your bathroom?  
Could you unhook me from the bed?  And get this big iron chain off my 
feet?  I have to go pee.�
         �Then you can do that right here,� Jane said.
         �What?� Katie asked.
         �We�re all going to pee in the bed, darling,� Jane said.  �It�s a pee 
party, like I told you.�
         �You *want* me to pee in the bed?� Katie said.  �Oh, but I can�t do 
that.  I�m a big girl now.�
         �Still, you must do it.  That�s why you have an iron chain on your 
feet, little one.  Because you�re a slave girl, like in Spartacus.  You�ll do 
just as I say, or you�ll feel my riding crop across your bottom.�
         �Ohhhhh!� Katie sighed, a bit remorsefully, I thought, yet with a 
touch of excitement, too, at the naughtiness of Jane�s words.  She 
squirmed under the covers.  She grabbed her bottomcheeks.  Then, 
shifting one hand forward, she put it over her muff.  �Really, I do have 
to go.  Can�t you please unhook me?� Katie asked.
         �No, and don�t ask again,� Jane said.  �Mistress will unhook you 
when she chooses to, not before.�
         �Are you my mistress?� Katie asked Jane.
         �I have the crop.  So that means I am,� Jane said.
         �What if I steal the crop?� Katie asked.
         �They�d you�d be punished for it,� Jane said.  �Now lie still, and 
try to hold your pee inside your pretty cuntlips for as long as you can.  
Here, dear, let Rob refill your glass with more juice.�
         �Oh, but I shall REALLY have to pee then!� Katie whined.
         �Good.  Hold it as long as you can,� Jane answered, taking the 
girl�s glass.  I passed it to her and she passed it on to her husband.  
�Fill �er up, Rob.  We�re going to have a wet bed soon, and then we�ll 
move on to other erotic delicacies.�  Jane reached between my legs.  
She stroked her finger within my slit.  I let out a surprised shriek.  I 
snapped my thighs closed.  �Open your legs, Bambi,� Jane scolded me.  
�A girl�s legs must always be open.�  I complied.  She touched my slit, 
inquired within it.  I shivered.  In retaliation I put my finger between 
her legs and touched hers.
         �Yes,� Jane said.  She kissed my cheek.  �As long as you are here, 
your breasts will be free, and naked, without anything to cover them.  
And your legs will always be poised in an open position, whether I 
permit you to put a skirt round your waist, or not,� she said.  �Even if 
we go out to a fancy restaurant, as we do with our guests sometimes, 
you will not wear any bra, though you might wear something light, like 
a blouse, for the sake of modesty.  But you will keep your legs apart, 
always, never crossing them.  Do you understand?� she asked.
         �Yes,� I answered.  I shivered with my growing need to pee.  She 
diddled her finger in my slit, took my glass, had Rob refill it, then 
passed it back to me.  She watched me drink from it.  I held it with both 
my hands, so as not to spill it on myself.
         �And most of all, when we go out, you will have a sore bottom,� 
Jane said.  �Imagine that.  Sitting at a fine restaurant, everything 
elegant, but with your legs properly open, and your bottom 
uncomfortably sore.  Imagine the waiter taking your order as you try to 
sit still.  Imagine him wondering, perhaps, why the man has two women 
with him, Rob and myself and you.  One man, two women.  And me 
sitting quietly, as your mistress, while you strive to sit still, 
hopefully succeeding, lest I take you into the ladies� room and gag you 
and crop you some more.�
         �Mmmm,� was all I could answer.  Her finger in my slit, the 
fullness of my bladder, the words she wove, the decadance of being 
leashed to the bed, my feet bearing chains, it was all beginning to make 
my head spin with erotic sensations.  Did I really wish to be here?  I 
didn�t know.  I was excited by the squirming of little Katie beside me, 
all young and nude and needing to pee.  And by Jane, warmly placed on 
my other side, diddling in my slit as I drank yet more juice-laden 
cocktails.  And, with their penises standing up like sentries, Rob and 
Nick, guarding the far sides of the bed.  I was captive.  I had to pee.
         �I can�t wait any longer,� I breathed desperately to Jane, even as 
I sipped at the latest drink they�d handed me.  Her finger in my slit 
wasn�t helping.
         �Then we must all go at once,� Jane said.  �How warm and dry our 
bed feels.  How unlike that it will be a minute from now!�
         �I have to GO!� Katie said.  She squirmed beside me.  The bell 
hanging round her neck jingled loudly.
         �I don�t know how much longer I can hold it in myself,� Nick said.
         �Are you going to shoot your wad?� Katie asked eagerly.
         �No.  I�m going to pee,� Nick said.
         �PEE?!  I don�t wanna be peed on by a man!� Katie shouted.
         �Lie still, dearest.  We�re all going to pee in a moment,� Jane 
said.  �Finger her slit,� she whispered to me.
         I did.  Katie began giggling.
         �Ohhh, don�t!� Katie cried.  She spilled her juice on herself.
         �Keep your legs open,� I told her.  My voice sounded rough, 
demanding.  Surprisingly, she obeyed.  She widened her thighs and let 
me drive her crazy, giggling all the while, telling everyone her juice 
was spilt all over her face, at the same time.  Nick licked her cheeks.  I 
think she liked that.  He told her that her juice, as he licked it from her 
face, tasted good.
         �I can�t hold my pee anymore!� Katie cried.  She kept giggling as I 
fingered her muffin.
         �Then piss it out,� Jane urged.
         �Okay!� Katie said.  Then, a moment later, �Oh, I can�t!  It won�t 
come out!  Even though I have to go very badly!�
         �Yes, it can,� I urged.  I tickled her with light fingers in her slit.
         �Oh, nooooo!� Katie said.  And then, suddenly, I felt a wetness 
srping to my fingertips.
         �She�s peeing!� I cried.  A moment later I could feel a wet spot 
spreading under my hip.
         �Then we must all pee!� Jane cried.  �Rob, Nick, do your duty!�
         �Ahhhh, God!  That feels good!� Nick said, and I sensed he must be 
peeing also.  I lay back, stilled my hand within Katie�s wetting slit.  I 
felt Jane�s fingers plying within my own muff.
         �Here goes,� I breathed.  For a moment nothing came and then, 
irritated by Jane�s prying, I let her have it.
         PISSSSS!  I felt my cuntlips release all my glassfuls of juice.
         �Oh, you are wetting!� Jane cried.  I felt her fingertips, within my 
dell, wetten on my pee.  I felt across her tummy, down between her 
legs.  She pissed on my fingertips.
         �Oh, I can feel you.  You�re peeing too!� I cried.  
         �Yes,� Jane said.  �We are all peeing now.  Are you peeing, 
honey?� she asked her husband.
         �Uh, here goes,� Rob said.  
         �Yes!  He�s wetting.  Oh, god!  Such a big cock, and he�s wetting the 
bed with it!� Jane said.
         �Mmmm,� I breathed.  The bed felt quite wet under me now.  I 
continued to piss, and wished I was next to Nick, so I could feel him 
pee.  Or, better yet, next to Rob.
         �Is Nick peeing?� I asked Katie.
         �Yes, he�s peeing and it�s getting the bed all wet!� Katie said.  
�I�ll have to wash my hair again if he pees any more.  Stop, you!� she 
told Nick.
         �Not a chance,� Nick answered.         

30

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