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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
ENSLAVED TO EROS
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Chapter Three
I had arrived at Miss Wood�s made up, with my hair done up in
pigtails and a fetching cami doing its best to keep me modest. I�d touched
up my makeup behind the screen, in her pretend doctor�s office, and she
and Jane had attended to my dell, giving it a special beautification. Yet it
had all been utterly ruined by the lusty depredations of the three boys.
They�d left me with sperm oozing profusely from my cunt, and with
nipples so sore the air itself seemed to sting them. As I was undone from
the table by Miss Wood and Jane, and helped up, I felt like a complete
tramp. I could barely stand when they put my bare feet onto the floor.
Sperm ran freely down the insides of my cunt. I felt like a boy must feel,
when he�s messed in his pants. Except I was a girl. Girls didn�t have
sperm, unless they were slutty enough to let boys shoot it all over them
and up inside them.
�My, how messy she is,� Miss Wood told Jane. �She has no respect
for her body.�
�I agree,� Jane smiled. �She smells like a boys� locker room.�
�And a boys� latrine, too,� Miss Wood said. �Look. She�s let boys
shoot their jism all over her. Next thing you know, they�ll be peeing on her
too!�
Jane laughed and her eyes gazed at me mirthfully. We�d already
played that game, in her bed, with her husband and Nick, earlier in the
evening.
�She is a total slut,� Jane agreed. �And I�ll bet she�s pregnant too,
with all that sperm inside her.�
�No doubt,� Miss Wood said. �Fortunately a girl as young as she is
can still be dealt with. Let�s take her back to my classroom, where I can
deal with her properly.�
�Will it be sufficient?� Jane asked. �She has a poor posture. Look
how unsteadily she stands. Perhaps she needs to be put someplace she can
be tied.�
�Yes,� Miss Wood agreed.
�Oh, please! I can�t take anymore!� I whimpered.
Jane grasped me by my right breast, as if I were a sack of potatoes,
which, indeed, I felt very much like, at that moment, being so completely
used by the boys and left unceremoniously by them on the table, their jism
running down the insides of my thighs. I winced. It hurt for the air itself
to touch my tits, let alone Jane�s fingers. Miss Wood rubbed her hand all
over the bare skin of my bottom, savoring its nakedness.
�Love is firmness, Bambi,� Jane told me.
Miss Wood peered at me closely.
�She has had enough,� Miss Wood declared.
�Hmmm?� Jane asked.
�I will not take a girl beyond what she can tolerate,� Miss Wood
said.
�But with me you--� Jane began.
�You were older, dear,� Miss Wood said. �She is only 13.�
�You wish us to leave, then?� Jane asked.
�Yes, dear. Though I regret it, and have had no satisfaction for
myself,� Miss Wood said. She brushed a hand back through her hair.
�Yick!� she said. She pulled her fingers out of her hair. They were laden
with sticky jism that one of the boys, in his eagerness to stick himself
somewhere, had shot into it. She looked at her cum laden hand. �Save,
that is, for the bit of playing I did with the boys.� She smiled. �There
will be other nights when she can taste the cane.�
�It is a disappointment,� Jane said.
�I do not wish to break her down, but to build her up, through this
training,� Miss Wood said. �It is designed to enhance her wilpower. Were
we to proceed any further tonight, her training would have the opposite
effect.� Miss Wood kissed my cheek. �You have done well, Bambi. Feel
proud of yourself. You have shown great boldness in the face of the
unknown. You will make a very fine model, or whatever it is you wish to
be in life.�
I turned my head to her. Tears, already brimming in my eyes, began
streaming down my face.
�Miss Wood,� I stammered. �Will I-- Will we meet again?� It
seemed a very odd question, considering all she�d put me through. Every
fiber of my being wished simply to escape, to get out of that awful house,
and away from her. And yet, she had been merciful to me, in the end. And
she�d pampered me. She�d paid attention to me. She�d found needs I didn�t
even know I had, and filled them.
�Perhaps,� Miss Wood said. There was a sparkle in her eye. She
kissed my cheek. �Perhaps we will,� she said.
I was given a quick bath upstairs by both women, so I wouldn�t make
a mess in Jane�s car. Miss Wood wrapped a towel around her head to keep
from getting more of the boys� jism on me. Then, at the front door, she
kissed me goodnight. She did it right on my lips, with the front door
behind me. Jane was holding it open. I was wrapped in a big, fluffy towel,
but it was wrapped high on me, and as Miss Wood drew me up on my
tiptoes, kissing me, the towel rose on my body. It exposed the underside
of my fanny. It was nude. The wind blew in the front door. It touched my
bare ass. I shivered. I hoped nobody was passing by out on the road.
�Goodbye,� Miss Wood breathed, letting me part from her.
Impulsively I rose on my toes, on my own this time, and kissed her cheek.
�Night,� I said. Then I nearly collapsed, I was so exhausted. Miss
Wood caught me in her arms and passed me to Jane. She took my hand and I
walked unsteadily, a towel wrapped warmly round my head and another
around my body, but my heinie still showing its underside, down the front
steps. Jane carried her bag, that she�d brought things in; some played
with, some not. Diapers, a baby bottle. The camisole I�d worn. A pacifier.
Jane drove me back to her home. I fell asleep in the car. When we
arrived, she woke me, and led me sleepily into her house. Katie was still
there, with Rob and Nick. They were still in the living room. But the Clue
game had been put aside. Instead, Katie lay on the living room floor.
There was a container of Redi-Wip in her hand. She was lying on her back,
merrily squirting whipped cream all over herself as the two men bent over
her. They both had stiff erections. Their eyes showed hunger as they
lifted them to Jane and I.
�Are you boys having fun?� Jane asked.
�Yeah,� Rob answered. �How was your visit to Miss Wood�s?� I
began to falter, standing beside Jane, and she caught me.
�She has had enough for this evening,� Jane told her husband. �I�m
going to take her home.�
�Alright,� Rob said. He looked at me. But his eyes didn�t mirror the
passion I felt for him. I was just a girl. Young, attractive, but just a girl.
He�d had girls work for him before, in his flower shop, and no doubt I
wasn�t the last. I felt relief, in a way. I felt embarrassed at having peed
in the bed with him and now I wasn�t sure I liked him. Perhaps it was just
jealousy. He�d stayed behind, at the house, after all. With Katie. I looked
at her. She squirted cream into her dell.
�Some goes here too, of course!� Katie announced. �I saw this once
on Playboy!�
�You�re too young to watch Playboy,� Nick told her.
�Yes, but I�m not too young to *be* Playboy!� Katie assured him.
�I�m the dessert of the month.�
�Or of the night,� Rob sniggered. Katie, if she heard it, ignored him.
Instead she turned her head and looked back at myself and Jane. �I�m going
home too, just as soon as we have dessert!� Katie called out to us. Was
she afraid we�d leave her alone again, a 12-year-old, all by herself with
two grown, randy men? I did not know. As for myself, I was almost
beyond exhaustion. I could barely stand. I groped with my hands at the
sofa. Jane saw it.
�Yes, dear. You have had quite a night,� Jane said. �Was it scary
being bound to that table, while strange boys fucked you?�
�Very,� I said, almost inaudibly. She laid me down on the couch.
Katie rolled on her tummy on the floor. She handed the Redi-Wip to
Nick. �Put some on my bottom,� she told him. �I want it all over me, just
like I saw on T.V.�
�If you insist,� Nick said. �Mind if I cool down my erection first?�
�Yummy!� was all Katie said in reply. Nick pointed the can at his
dick and fired it.
�Ohhh!� Nick said. �That feel pretty good.� He levelled it at Katie�s
bottom. Slyly he reached out and parted the cheeks of her ass.
�Oh, not in my hole!� Katie screeched. Nick gave her a squirt right
between the halves of her bottom.
�Yoook!� Katie shouted. �Don�t!� She wiggled her bare heinie. Cold,
wet cream oozed up from between her tight cheeks. �That feels funny,�
she gasped.
�How about if I put something a little more substantial there?� Nick
asked. There was a touch of menace in his voice. Quickly he mounted her,
straddling her small body. He put his cock to the furrow of her behind.
�Noooooo! I can�t take any more that way!� Katie screamed. Her
scream was so loud it made my ears hurt. Sleepily my eyes closed, then
opened. Was Nick really going to force himself up her ass? She�d already
been violated there once tonight.
No, he was not. I watched, groggily, as Nick rolled Katie on her back.
She kicked up her legs. Her knees bumped his testicles. He squirted cold,
wet cream into the warm place between her legs. She�d already done
herself there, but not as thoroughly as Nick now did her. When she was
piled high with cream, almost as if she sported a cock, there was so much
of it piled between her legs, Nick bent and kissed her. His eyes flamed
with passion. Real passion, I thought. Not just lust, as Rob seemed to
show Had Nick fallen in love with Katie in the few hours I�d been gone? I
did not know. She was only 12. He was a grown man. Still, whatever his
eyes showed, it seemed better, I thought, than what Rob�s eyes had
offered, I thought, summing up the evening. I was half in and half out of
sleep now. Rob, it seemed to me, was only waiting for one more
opportunity to spend. Even Miss Wood had shown more real passion for me
than Rob had. But one had to experience things like this to know them
truly. I could have sworn, before the evening, that he truly loved me, and
was only waiting to rid himself of his wife to have me forever.
Something about Jane�s teasing got to me more deeply than I�d
imagined it had. Speaking to me in the bath, after we�d peed in her bed,
before we went to Miss Wood�s, I wasn�t sure if Jane was serious. About
bondage. And discipline. Real bondage and discipline. I knew I wasn�t. I�d
simply been passionate, confused aroused. Yet, a month later, shopping for
my mom at the grocery, I bumped into Miss Wood. She seemed happy to see
me. I wondered if I�d feel embarrassed, talking to her in the grocery. Yet
except for a blush I managed it okay. She asked me how I was doing. I told
her I would be on Christmas break soon. She asked if I had a boyfriend to
enjoy Christmas with.
�Yes,� I lied. I had several guys who liked me. Guys were plentiful,
for a girl like myself. But none of them were special. And I had Larissa,
of course, my girlfriend. And Katie, who called me once or twice, to ask
about Nick. I wasn�t sure if she was seeing Nick regularly or not. She
lived far from my house. But Nick, of course, being a man, could drive
wherever he wished. Perhaps he visited her, at her house. I didn�t know.
Sometimes I dreamt of her. She reminded me so much of Amber, who�d I�d
�done time� with, in the cave, as Larissa and I referred to our experience
there now. Once I dreamed that Katie and I went to Candyland together,
and made all the candy behave. A silly dream.
�The week after Christmas I am flying to California,� Miss Wood
told me. �I have a small cabin there, out in the desert. I have chickens, a
pig, a horse.�
�A horse?!� I asked. My heart jumped. I loved horses, though I�d
never gotten much of a chance to ride any, except once or twice at the
fair.
�Yes,� Miss Wood said. �I had planned to bring a friend but... she
isn�t able to cum,� Miss Wood said. She bit her lower lip. She seemed to
say the word �cum�, deliberately, as if to imply that the friend might have
come along, but backed out, at the last minute, due to some kind of mental
reservation. She looked into my eyes wonderingly. I found myself gazing
back, with equal curiosity. A kind of excitement passed between us,
unspoken. I knew if I accompanied her there would be more riding than
that what one does on a horse. She was honest about that. She didn�t say
anything, but I could see it in her eyes. I said nothing, only gazed up at
her. �Of course, you are only 13,� Miss Wood said. I nodded again. I was
about to turn away, to decline her, when I remembered how she�d indulged
me, even as she scolded me, at her house. I had felt quite special that
evening, with my hair done up in pretty pigtails, forced to draw cocks on
her blackboard.
�I-- I might be able to cum,� I told her. I tried to give the word
�cum� the same inflexion she had.
�Oh, that would be wonderful,� Miss Wood said. �It would just be
you and me, of course. After you�ve had a chance to enjoy Christmas with
your boyfriend.�
�Yes,� I nodded.
�Let me give you my number,� Miss Wood said. She drew a scented
slip of paper from her purse. She wrote on it. She handed it to me. I
looked at it. Her phone number was written upon it and, above her number,
the words, �Miss Wood.� I knew it wasn�t her real name.
�Raquella,� Miss Wood said. I looked up at her again. That wasn�t my
real name, of course, but she didn�t ask me for my real name. �You are
special to me. Really, you are. I shall hold the seat just for you, whether
you are able to make it or not. Right up to the last minute. Then, if you
can�t...� she paused. �cum, I shall go alone. I do not mind being alone.�
�I�ll try,� I told her.
�No one must know where we�re going,� Miss Wood said. �But you
will return safely, of course. You needn�t worry about that.�
�It�s possible I could--� I said, thinking.
�Only if you wish to,� Miss Wood said.
My mom got a new boyfriend for Christmas. They met in the bowling
alley. I didn�t like him much; he was overweight. But mom liked the
attention he gave her. I decided to slip away for a week and accompany
�Miss Wood� on her trip. I knew it would be unusual, and somehow that
intrigued me, even against my better judgement. There was something
magnetic about her. Something I seemed to have been looking for, without
even knowing it. Of course, it would have been more fun to be with a man
for a week, but a man hadn�t bumped into me and offered me what she was
offering. A week of... something. I wasn�t sure what. Just that I�d get
plenty of �riding� in, hopefully on her horse. The thought of abandoning my
mother for a week and going off into the unknown with Miss Wood sent
chills down my spine. And it revolted me a little, too, for it would just be
the two of us. Myself and another woman. And a servant. Miss Wood had
mentioned something about a servant, when I called her on the phone. But
it had been clear from our conversation that the week would focus on me,
and the servant wouldn�t be important. I guessed it wasn�t a man or, if it
was a man, it wasn�t a man I�d be interested in. It would just be myself,
and Miss Wood. And her horse.
I managed to make the flight. I�d let my mom worry for a week. I
left her a note, saying only I�d be back. Miss Wood gave me a kiss when we
met at the airport. It was an honest kiss, right on my lips.
�I like your tan!� she told me.
�I went to a tanning salon for the last week, like you suggested,� I
told her.
�Very well. You will look even more special in the nude, then,� Miss
Wood replied. She took my hand. I looked around to see if anyone in the
terminal had heard her comment. Apparently, they had not. My hips
wiggled nervously as she led me ticket agent and then on down the
speedway to our plane.
We flew on United to California. When we arrived, Miss Wood rented
a car. It was a convertiable. I liked it. I had not ridden in a convertible
before. Miss Wood put the top down. Despite there just being the two of
us, she continued to insist that I call her �Miss Wood.� I didn�t mind. I was
Raquella. We drove out into the countryside, through dry hills, along
California�s freeways until, at last, we turned onto a smaller road.
Miss Wood pulled off to the side of the road and looked at me. She
turned off the car�s engine.
�Raquella, I would like for you to take off your top,� Miss Wood said
to me. I felt myself jump in my seat. I stared at her. A bird circled
overhead and let out a screech. In the distance, cows grazed in a field.
�Why?� I asked. I tugged at the top button of my blouse. Yet I didn�t
open it. Not yet.
�It is unlikely we will see another car, from here on,� Miss Wood
said to me. �You are coming from a cold climate. New York is very cold
this time of year, as you know. I�d like you to feel the warmth of the
California sun on your bare bosoms as we drive along. It is not far to my
cabin from here. You will not be exposed long enough to the sun to burn.
Perhaps to tan just a little, on your breasts, but not much, because I
prefer a girl to have white breasts, as you do. But take off your top, and
your bra. I want you bare to your hips. I would insist that you be
completely nude, but sometimes the Highway Patrol does come back here,
though not as far back as I live, thankfully. If you are totally naked, and
we are seen, there might be too many questions, especially from a
policeman. But a topless girl, in California, that can be explained away.
Expecially in a car were there are only two women. Take off your blouse
and bra.�
�What-- what shall I do with them?� I asked.
�I�m going to get something out of my luggage,� she told me. �Give
me your blouse and bra when you�ve removed them. I�m going to put them
back here, in my suitcase, in the trunk.�
�But what if the Highway Patrol--?� I began.
�Like I said, dear, that can be explained,� Miss Wood answered. She
opened her car door and got out. Reluctantly I unbuttoned my blouse. I
pulled it off. The hot sun struck my shoulders, the flatness of my belly.
�Can�t I at least keep my bra on?� I asked.
�No,� Miss Wood answered. I reached back behind myself as she
popped the lid on the trunk. I unsnapped my bra. It was frilly, and white.
I took it off. She came round to my side of the car and took my clothes
from me. �Good,� she said. �I like your tan. It shows off your breasts,
the way they are white against your tanned shoulders and your tanned
belly.� She handed me something. It was a riding crop. �Lay it across
your lap,� Miss Wood said. �We�ll be using it presently, when we arrive at
the house.�
�On the horse?� I asked, taking the leather stick from her. My hands
trembled as I took it.
�No,� Miss Wood answered. �My horse is too valuable to be hit with
a riding crop.�
�Then--� I said.
�Put it in your lap, dear,� Miss Wood insisted. I obeyed. She put my
blouse and bra in her suitcase in the trunk and slammed shut the trunk�s
lid. She got back in the car. She stared the engine. We drove off.
We did not meet the Highway Patrol during the rest of our journey.
We drove under an afternoon sun, its rays hot on my skin, but not
excessively so, making the whiteness of my breasts stand out sharply, my
nipples stiff. The jellied mounds of my tits bounced exceedingly when
Miss Wood turned off the secondary road onto one paved only with gravel.
She looked over and me and smirked at the jostling of my bare tits. She
was wearing women�s business attire, complete with a jacket, blouse, and
bra. Her breasts jiggled in her bra cups but they didn�t bounce all around
like my nude ones did. I flushed.
�You blush very nicely,� she said to me.
�Thank you,� I replied. I put a palm on my bare belly. It felt warm.
Thankfully we passed between a grove of trees and fell into shade. I
fingered my navel. I couldn�t imagine what would happen to me. One thing
was for sure, though. I wouldn�t risk getting pregant. There would be no
men here, just she and I, for the entire week. Plus a horse and a servant.
And the servant, I guessed, wasn�t a man.
�Your servant--?� I asked, looking across at Miss Wood.
�You will not be my servant,� Miss Wood, misunderstanding, replied.
�You will be my slave. But I will be your mistress. A love slave isn�t like
a black African slave. It is the mistress who has the most work, in a
relationship like we will have for the week.�
�I-- I meant your actual servant,� I said. We passed again into
sunlight.
�Oh. She is a Mexican woman,� Miss Wood said. �She speaks very
little English, don�t worry. She will not divulge what she sees.�
�I see,� I said, gulping. I looked down at the riding crop across my
lap. I felt like reaching over and hitting her with it, but I feared she
might crash our car. That, at least, was the excuse I gave myself, at the
time. At her insistance, I wasn�t wearing a seatbelt.
About 15 minutes later we turned from the gravel road onto a gravel
drive. We drove through more trees. We pulled up before a small, wooden
cabin. It looked weathered and old. Chickens scattered before us.
�You�ll find it�s spartan, but sufficient for our purposes,� Miss Wood
told me. She stopped the car. She got out. I hesistated, sitting in her car.
She walked around to my side and opened my car door. She took my arm.
She pulled on it. I stumbled out of her car, clutching, ridiculously, at the
riding crop she�d given me. Just then the door to the cabin swung open and
a Mexican woman stepped out. She was middle-aged. She wore a maid�s
cap on her head, and a white maid�s apron.
�Margarit,� Miss Wood smiled to her. �This is Bambi. Bambi, meet
Margarit.�
The Mexican woman nodded to me. She seemed to take it in stride
that I was topless, without a blouse or a bra. If she noticed the riding
crop in my hand, she did not remark upon it. She simply bowed, slightly,
nodding her head. Then she turned and began rounding up the chickens and
throwing them grain from a pouch in the front of her apron.
�Here, chickeee, chickeee, chickeee,� Margarit called to the
chickens. Since she was tossing them grain, they didn�t need much
encouragement to heed her calls. Miss Wood took me by my arm and
escorted me into her cabin.
It was shady indoors, under the roof of the cabin. Miss Wood showed
me around. There was a single bed. It had iron bars for its headboard and
its footboard. There was a small bathroom. It had a sink, a bidet made of
porcelian, and an old metal washtub. There was only a tap, to draw water
from. There were no facilities for a shower or a regular bath, in a tub.
There was a small stove, a sink, a few cupboards for storing food. Out
back, on an open air porch, with the roof projecting back over it to give it
shade, was what Miss Wood called �my parlor.� It had a simple wooden
table and two chairs. The chairs were of wood but they matched neither
each other nor the table. Beyond, in a field, a large horse ran free.
�What do you think?� Miss Wood asked me.
�It is... quite natural,� I offered. My voice quavered.
�We will be getting to know each other quite well here,� Miss Wood
said. �But mostly, you will be getting to know yourself, Bambi. For I will
be dressed, almost always, as you see me now. That�s right. In a business
suit. This is no lesbian retreat. I hope you were not looking for that?�
�No,� I said, in a quavering voice.
�In fact, I have not shown you downstairs.� My eyes widened.
Downstairs? This was little more than a hut. �Yes,� Miss Wood nodded.
�I�d have to pay a larger tax if all the facilities were visible. Downstairs,
there is a proper bedroom for myself, and a full, complete bath. And
washing facilities, for clothes. And a gourmet kitchen. You will not see
those parts of the house. But I will attend to my own needs down there.
While, at the same time, you are enjoying the spartan life, up here.� She
laughed. �It was simple, my dear, building it. You simply dig a big hole,
build what you want, and then cover it up again. The cabin was placed on
top.� She ran a hand down my bare back. Her fingers played along my
spine. �I should like to whip you, now,� Miss Wood said. She prised the
riding crop from my fingers. �I want you to bend right over and put your
elbows on the table. Take your pants down first. This is to be a bare-
bottomed whipping.� She touched my back where my bra usually ran
across it. �You have done a fine job, tanning yourself. I can see where
your bra covered you, in the tanning booth. I trust you kept your panties on
too, while you tanned?� I nodded. �Good. Then your bottom will be as
white as your breasts are. And you did a perfect job, my dear, letting your
bra leave just a trace of a line across your back. You will train very well
as a slave, I believe, given how well you�ve carried out my instructions
already.� She kissed my cheek. �The essence of a slave, you know, is to
be able to carry out instructions to the letter. Please pull down your
pants. Let me see how well you�ve kept your bottom white, while tanning
your legs.�
I was wearing jeans and knee high fringed leather cowboy boots.
Somehow, I sensed she did not wish for me to sit down on a chair, and
remove my boots, and take my jeans and panties all the way off. There
seemed to be an urgency in her eyes. In the way she pressed on my back. I
undid my pants belt, looking up at her. As soon as I had the belt undone,
she pulled it out of my belt loops and off my pants. She dropped it on a
chair next to the table. Then Miss Wood helped me with the buttons at the
front of my jeans. When they�d been pulled open, she took hold of my pants
round my hips. She shoved them down. It was quite unceremonious, like a
parent stripping a child for her bath. Down they went, me pushing a little
to get them down, for they were tight round my legs. She pushed most of
all, shoving my jeans down until they circled my knees.
�Very well. Bend over,� Miss Wood told me in a no-nonsense voice.
�That�s it. We�re both girls. There�s no need to feel embarrassed at
showing me what we both have,� she said, pushing on my back with a
single finger now, as I bent slowly at the middle until my arms came to
rest upon the wooden surface of the table. �You have brought a nice belt,�
she said, glancing at the chair. �We will apply that to your seat also. Dip
your back. Present your bottom, Raquella. Shove it up at me.� She turned.
�Hello, Margarit. Of course you may watch, my dear. She will need
someone to daub her eyes, when I�m finished. And perhaps a cup of water.
No, no liquor beforehand. This is a mid-day spanking. We do not give
liquor to girls when they are being spanked in the middle of the day. Only
in the evening, and then only for the most severe tests.�
Quivering with fright, Miss Wood�s palm pressing down on the small
of my back, I was forced to offer up my bottom. I blinked. This was
utterly crazy, I thought, gazing out at the field beyond, at the strong horse
standing in the distance. It stopped. It sniffed the breeze. I heard the
chickens out front, squabbling over the grain they�d been tossed.
�She holds the position well, do you not think so?� Miss Wood asked
Margarit. They both stood behind me, gazing at my upturned ass.
�Yes, madam,� Margarit said. �She has a very fine bottom.�
�So round and tight,� Miss Wood said.
Nervously I wiggled my ass. �Oh, please,� I moaned. �Hit me and get
it over with!� Miss Wood laughed. Margarit copied her, laughing with her.
�My dear,� Miss Wood said. �It is the waiting for it that is almost
more important than it itself is. Gaze out at the fields. The horse is a
male. But there are no other males here. All your suffering will be
unobserved, unappreciated, by any males, except the horse. See how he
sniffs at the wind. Does he sense the presence of a young female? Oh,
look! He is coming our way. Perhaps he wishes to mount you, hmmm?�
I shivered with considerable fright then. For there was no railing,
between us and the porch. His field where he galloped came right up to the
back of the house.
As I stood hunched over the table, watching the horse, he came
trotting up to the porch. There was an eagerness to his gait. He put his
nose in and sniffed within a foot of my bottom. I could feel air from his
nostrils hit my tail end as he whinnied.
�Margarit, please restrain him,� Miss Wood told our maid.
�Yes, madam,� the maid replied. She walked behind me and over to
the horse. He wore no bit, no bridle. Yet her touch upon his neck seemed
to calm him. She was Mexican. She understood animals. She stroked the
underside of his large, powerful jaws.
�Tommorrow we will put you over a bale of hay and put a dildoe up
your bottom,� Miss Wood told me. I did not know whether she was teasing
or not. �And by week�s end you will have learned to wear a saddle. You
will be a properly broken-in young mare, fit for pleasing men�s worst
desires. Provided, of course,� she said, running a finger up between the
cheeks of my seat, �You wish to serve such a man.�
�Madam,� Margarit said, still restraining the horse. �There is a man,
in Mexico, named Solon. He buys young American girls and uses them to
entertain.�
�Yes, I know,� Miss Wood said. �He runs a prison farm?�
�Yes, ma�am. It is for American women. Some go there voluntarily.
Others, are induced,� Margarit said.
�I have heard of it,� Miss Wood said. She pressed the crop against
the middle part of my bottom. I could feel its hardness indenting my seat.
�Oh, no more!� I wailed.
�What? I haven�t even struck you,� Miss Wood replied.
�I know, but--� I began. My voice caught in my throat. How awful I
felt, my bosoms scraping the table, my ass uplifted, feeling the stiff crop
against my skin and knowing it must hurt me soon. Miss Wood put the crop
between my legs. She slid it up between my thighs until it lodged in the
slit of my sex. She rubbed it back and forth. �OH!� I gasped.
�The crop is giving you pleasure?� Miss Wood asked.
�A little,� I sighed. A wave of pleasure passed up through my
tummy.
�She is excited,� Margarit said. �See how her bare legs and her
knees tremble. She likes showing her bottom this way, with her pants
rudely pulled down.�
�I know,� Miss Wood said. �Of course there must be punishment, for
being such a bad girl. Did you know she rode all the way over here without
her top on?�
�Yes, I saw it. Showing her bare bosoms to all the world,� Margarit
said.
�So of course I yanked down her pants the minute we got here,� Miss
Wood said.
�A good idea, ma�am. Whoa, horse! She is not for you. Not today,�
Margarit said to the stallion. My hips rolled. Miss Wood�s free hand
returned to the summits of my back hemispheres and scouted between
them. �Do not tighten yourself, Raquella,� Miss Wood instructed, as my
bottomcheeks tensed against her finger. When I relaxed, she dipped her
finger between them. She pressed a fingertip to my rosehole. �Yes,� she
said. �I�ll force the dildoe up you right there. Out in the sunshine, where
anyone passing by might see. Although,� she added quickly, �nobody
should, back here. It is quite remote. That is why I�m free to spank you
out on the porch. Scream to the hills, if you like. Only Margarit and I and
the horse will hear you.�
�Please do it, if you must,� I said. I waggled my bare ass at her.
�Ah, she is showing it off now,� Miss Wood told Margarit. The horse
neighed.
�She is lewd, madam. Is that the word?� Margarit asked.
�Yes,� Miss Wood said. She kept sawing the crop in my cunt, making
me swoon, while at the same time fingering me deeply in my bottom crack.
I rotated my bottom about as if I were a model, whose behind was the
center of a fashion show.
�She belongs on the prison farm. She is lewd,� Margarit said.
�I couldn�t agree more,� Miss Wood replied. She pulled the crop from
between my legs. She withdrew her other hand off my bottom. I heard a
whistling. It was the crop being drawn back. I tensed. �Keep your
posture, Raquella,� Miss Wood warned. Then there was another whistling,
faster still than the first. Suddenly a hard, butt-wrenching smack, thin as
a pencil but deep in its impression, connected with my pert derriere.
�OoooWHOOOO!� I cried. The shock of it, after all that teasing and
waiting, nearly sent me flying across the table.
�She cannot even hold her posture, Madam,� Margarit said.
�Yes, she must go to the prison farm. She is disobedient and totally
untrained,� Miss Wood replied.
�She will fetch a high price there,� Margarit said.
�OOOOH! I don�t want to go to the prison farm!� I shouted. The
distant hills seemed to reverberate with my cry.
So much so that they laughed.
Jane was laughing. My eyes popped open.
�The prison farm?� Jane asked. �What dream have you been having,
dear?�
I lurched on the couch. I grabbed at it and almost fell off. Morning
was streaming through the windows of Jane�s living room. Fortunately,
the curtains were drawn, for I was completely nude.
�Oh! I dreamed I met Miss Wood in the grocery, and I went to
California, and I went to Candyland too, and I was going to be sold to a
prison farm, in Mexico!� I blathered.
Jane kissed my face.
�You must go home now, dear,� she said. �I meant to take you last
night but I fell asleep and, well, Katie wasn�t finished yet,� she said. She
glanced behind her. I saw Katie lying on the living room floor. She looked
well eaten. Tongue trails ran up her creamed thighs repeatedly, right to
her dell. Her fleecy pubic hair had been completely licked clean of all the
cream that had been squirted on it. Yet new cream was dribbling out of
her now, cream from the insides of men. It came oozing out from between
the lips of her pussy and grew in a slow pile between her legs on the
carpet. Her face, except for her lips, was smeared with cream. Her mouth
lay open, and I guessed she might be oozing cream there too, real men�s
cream, from the depths of her throat. Her titties, sitting plumply on her
chest, were covered with cream, save for their nippled tips, which had
been licked. They stood up pinkly, like cherries topping ice cream cones.
�Katie is finished now,� Jane assured me.
Later, driving home in her car, I gazed sleepily out her side window.
I saw horses. They were standing in a field. Eating grass. For a moment I
imagined they were big cocks, feeding on the grass with their pee holes.
And then I saw a woman step out from behind one of them. She had a
riding crop in her hand. She hit one of the fine stallions on his rump. I
clutched at my own. The big horse broke into a run. I watched it. As the
horse galloped across the field I wished I could be on top of it, riding it.
Even if the woman struck my own rump as we ran.
THE END
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