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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
THE FRUITS OF DESIRE
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Chapter Ten
It is always a dangerous thing for a man to take a woman for
granted. Even, perhaps especially, when she is a curious 13-year-old girl.
A week had passed since Mark had taken Kelli to the Bottom Party.
He was sitting at Waterland, enjoying the feel of wet swim trunks drying
against his loins as he watched Kelli frolicking on the slide in the baby
pool. She was helping toddlers go down the slide, several for the first
time. When a toddler seemed scared Kelli eagerly got on the slide and slid
down herself, to show the child that there wasn�t any danger. Two
mothers were there and they laughed and delighted in Kelli�s presence, for
the toddlers seemed to trust Kelli, as if she were not 13, but a child like
themselves.
The lights in the water park glowed in Kelli�s blonde hair, making
her look as if she were wearing a halo. Mark marvelled at the girl. She
was so exuberant! He and Amanda had insisted that Kelli wear a bra with
properly-sized cups to go to the water park, and Mark silently thanked
himself for insisting on the cups, for with each bounce of Kelli�s gleeful
frame her breasts wobbled. They were large, ripe breasts. They were big
enough for a woman but instead wobbling on the frame of a slender young
teen.
Kelli had wanted to go to the park in the afternoon, but Mark had
insisted they wait until dark.
�I don�t want your tan to be any deeper,� Mark had told Kelli. �And I
want your bottom to stay white, so I can see the marks on it when I whip
you.� Kelli had shivered, said nothing, and watched cartoons until evening.
As for Amanda, she did not complain, for she liked her tan exactly the
shade it was, and didn�t want any more sun. Later, when Amanda was
watching T.V., she�d said to Mark,
�I don�t know how I feel about you having my niece as your sex
slave.�
�Only my pretend sex slave,� Mark said, as the sun glared on the
swimming pool behind Amanda�s house.
�Yes, but the whippings are real,� Amanda had countered.
�She has not had anything since the Bottom Party,� Mark said.
�Yes, but--� Amanda said. She paused, was silent for a moment. She
arranged flowers in a vase. She picked up a pitcher. She poured water
from the pitcher into the vase. �Perhaps Kelli has had enough, don�t you
think?� Amanda asked Mark. The water, streaming from Amanda�s vase,
bumped a new blooming rose. �Ooops,� Amanda said. She stopped pouring.
She looked at Mark. �I mean, she has been opened now. She has tasted the
whip. I do not know if I wish for her to have more.�
�I�ve slept with you every night this week,� Mark said. He felt his
cock stiffen in his pants. �Aren�t I good enough for you anymore?� Mark
asked. �Do you want me to leave?�
�No, no,� Amanda said. �It�s just--�
From the next room, the T.V. could be heard announcing a new brand
of sugar-coated cereal.
�It�s just that she�s still a little girl, Mark,� Amanda said. �Perhaps
it�s not right for you to be attracted to her.�
�I like her, and I like you,� Mark replied. He walked up to Amanda.
He put his arms around her. She snuggled against his chest. Mark had no
shirt on, just trousers, and as he held Amanda in his arms he reached down
and unzipped his jeans. Amanda had begun stroking Mark�s chest hair with
her fingers, tracing the hairs and the hard muscles upon which they grew,
when Mark, undoing himself, thrust forth his penis. It bumped Amanda�s
thigh, hard flesh against soft.
�See?� Mark said.
�Yes!� Amanda answered. Immediately she dropped to her knees. She
took him in her hands. �You seem hard enough,� Amanda said. Gently she
stroked him. Her voice had a teasing tone. �But I don�t know,� she said.
�Perhaps you aren�t sufficiently attracted to women. I�m going to have to
examine you.�
�How?� Mark asked. He trembled in her small fingers. Amanda
smiled.
�Orally,� Amanda answered. She put her lips to Mark�s cockhead.
She put them right against his pee hole. Then she gently kissed him there,
and she remarked aloud that he tasted salty.
�Of course I do,� Mark said. �It�s either pee or semen, or sweat.�
�Yes,� Amanda said, her voice suddenly lower, almost husky. She
opened her mouth wide. Then she eased Mark into her mouth, and she
remarked to herself, as she did so, how her jaw always seemed to feel
like it was being dislocated by him, no matter how wide she opened her
mouth.
For the next several minutes, even with the T.V. blaring in the next
room, Mark did not think of Kelli at all.
And now there she was, wiggling on the slide, and shooting down it
to show the toddlers how safe it was, her arms lifted high in the air. Mark
licked his lips. He looked over at Amanda. She was talking to a young
woman, her eyes bright, her blonde hair as golden as her niece�s, her figure
as perfect. But she was not as young, not as enthusiastic. Mark scolded
himself for not sleeping with Kelli at all for the last week, but then
scolded himself for wishing he had.
As for Kelli, she had no reservations about what she wanted in life.
She had found the bottom party stimulating. The whipping had been
painful but she had recovered from it quickly. The penises had been
difficult but the men, despite their bravado, had been gentle, as gentle as
they could be, and she had managed to take them. She had not taken all of
them, some were too big, but she had taken more than one all the way to
its base and she was exceedingly proud of that. Silently proud, for she
knew her aunt had misgivings about having taken her to the Bottom Party,
and Kelli did not want to forfeit her chances of going to more parties by
being a brat. She had, in fact, been especially good during the last week,
and she had not even complained when Mark had begun sleeping with
Amanda again, and had left her to wiggle on her fingertips in the
loneliness of her bed.
Now, she was inwardly smiling, as she slipped down the slide yet
again. She knew Mark was watching her and she guessed he thought she
was thinking of him. But in fact she had her eye on another man. She
guessed Mark hadn�t even noticed him. He looked old enough to be a dad.
Maybe even a granddad. He had white hair. His physique was strong,
though. She wondered if he had once been a football player, or a wrestler.
He was sipping a berry ice cola as he sat conversing with a young woman.
A casual observer might have thought the woman was the man�s wife. A
trophy wife, picked up off a college campus when the man tired of his
original wife. Kelli�s aunt had dated a few men like that. She said they
were fun, and always paid for everything, but Amanda considered them to
be too old. But Kelli was not her aunt. She felt an odd attraction toward
men of that age. Perhaps it was because she had had a teacher once, in the
fourth grade, and he had grey hair. He had been very nice to her. He had
answered all her questions, even the questions she asked him after class.
Even the questions she asked him about sex, that her parents refused to
answer. She had offered him her virginity, at Christmas time, as a
Christmas present. He had laughed and refused it.
As for the man she was watching now, she had been watching him
since the moon rose. It had come up like a big lozenge, as if to wet her
appetite for him. Kelli had seen the man enter the park, just as the moon
flooded the park with moonlight. He came in alone. He walked over to the
drink stand and bought himself a drink. Then he walked to the toddler pool
and, after loitering a moment, he had sat down next to the young woman.
He�d introduced himself. It was obvious he was introducing himself for
the young woman had at first pretended to ignore him. But then he�d
gotten her attention. She�d softened, and then she�d begun talking with
him. No sooner had their conversation begun, however, than the man saw
Kelli. Frequently, after that, even though he kept talking with the woman,
his gaze wandered toward Kelli. Wherever she went in the park, his eyes
followed. And now Kelli had drawn close to him, choosing to play with the
toddlers, to give him a better view of herself.
Kelli shot off the end of the toddler slide and splashed into the
water. She submerged momentarily, under the surface of the pool,
escaping the man�s gaze. Then she popped back up again. Immediately she
got out of the pool. She climbed up out of the pool along the side, not
using the ladder, in order to give the man a front-on view of her breasts.
He smiled. She smiled back at him.
The man�s name was Patrick Falcon. He felt his swim trunks grow
tight as the 13-year-old girl smiled at him. She was so cute! Was she
really smiling at him, or was there someone, a young boyfriend perhaps,
standing somewhere behind him? He blushed. Surely she was not looking
at him. He was over 50. She was, what? What age would a girl like that
be? She had the height of a junior high girl. But such bosoms! They would
make any of the mothers hanging around the toddler pool proud. Patrick
tried to put the girl out of his mind. He looked again at the young woman
sitting beside him.
�You are really a millionaire?� the woman was asking.
�Yes,� Patrick said, trying to refocus on the conversation.
�What do you do for a living?� the woman asked.
�Oh, nothing,� Patrick said, and paused to sip on his berry cola. The
last of the juice entered his mouth from the cup and he looked down at the
ice that remained. Bare, white ice, drained of color. It reminded him of
his hair. �I�m enjoying the fruits of capitalism,� Patrick said. The woman
looked puzzled. He smiled. �I invested in Yell Computer and the stock
went through the roof.�
�Oh,� the woman said. �My father invests in stocks.�
�How�s he doing?� Patrick asked.
�I think he was buying stocks in Russia,� the woman answered.
�Oh,� Patrick said. He knew where those stocks had gone. Not up,
that was for sure. �I prefer the good �ol U.S. of A.� Patrick said.
�So what do you do with your time?� the woman asked.
�Ah, leisure!� Patrick said. �It will kill America�s Puritanism
sooner or later, don�t you think? The conundrum of capitalism! Successful
capitalism creates leisure which, producing idle hands, allows them to do
the devil�s work.�
�So you are a devil?� the woman said.
�No, a sadist,� Patrick answered. He watched her face. This was the
crucial moment, where the blades of conversational battle joined. Instead
all she said was,
�What�s that?�
Patrick cursed himself. He had chosen a woman too young. College-
age girls didn�t always work out. They were flighty, sometimes ignorant.
But he had not seen any businesswomen around. Just mothers with
toddlers, and he made a point of never discussing his passion with
someone when her children were present.
Patrick lowered his voice, so that the toddlers nearby would not
hear. He sipped on his drink and then remembered that all the juice was
gone. �You have never heard of a sadist?� he asked the young woman.
�Is-- is that some guy who, like...?� the young woman�s voice trailed
off, leaving only the laughter of the nearby toddlers in its wake.
�Yes,� Patrick said. �I provide discipline... to those who need it.�
�Oh,� the woman said.
�You may slap me if you wish,� Patrick said.
�No...� the woman replied. �No, I won�t do that. Have you been
slapped before?�
�A few times,� Patrick said. �But I prefer to do the slapping.�
�Oh,� the woman said. She thought for a moment and Patrick put his
cup down on the concrete beside his chair. If she denied him, he would
leave. Females could sometimes be unpleasant to a man who shared such
desires with them, especially if he was old enough to be their father.
�So, what is that like?� the woman asked. Inwardly, Patrick smiled
to himself. Perhaps she was not too young. Perhaps he had picked a good
candidate.
�I... have built a camp,� Patrick said. �As I said, I have a lot of
money. I have three girls at the moment. Two are in training and a third
is the mistress. I call my camp �The Reservation�.�
�The girls... are they my age?� the young woman asked.
Patrick glanced at Kelli. The girl seemed to be smiling at him again,
right at him, and quickly he looked away. He had to concentrate on the
female beside him if he was to take her home. �They are a few years
older,� Patrick said. �They are, you might say, harried business women.
One is your age, however. She�s not a college girl, though, but a secretary.
In the case of all three women, they tired of the workaday grind. They
agreed to stay at my reservation to enjoy some bliss. I give them every
luxury, anything they ask!� He smiled. �Of course there is a tradeoff.�
�A what?� the woman beside him asked.
�A tradeoff,� Patrick said. �For three days a woman is given the
utmost luxury. She does nothing for herself. The other girls attend to her.
Then, on the fourth day, she is brutally flogged.�
Patrick watched the woman�s expression. This was the moment in
the conversation when he was most likely to get slapped. Actually he
could be fairly discreet with a whip, and was not necessarily a brutal
flogger, but he had found something interesting over the years: by
promising a brutal flogging, he created a desire in some women for more
of the whip, not less. And he was always happy to give more of the whip.
�Brutal?� the woman said. Her eyes showed dismay. She shifted in
her chair.
�It is a proper judicial whipping,� Patrick said. �It is not play. It is
not for the purpose of love. I do not love my squaws, as I call them, on my
reservation. They provide me with delight by their physical beauty and I
help them free their minds from the stresses and strains of modern life.
They are soaked in pleasure, for three days, and then they are bathed in
pain. In this way a harried business woman, or an overworked young
secretary, can completely forget all of her responsibilities. I suppose I
have feminism to thank for providing me with such willing women. But it
is not for everyone.�
�No,� the young woman answered. �No, I don�t think so.� She rose
from her chair. �I-- I have to go now,� she said. She seemed slightly
unsteady on her feet. Then she regained her confidence and, with a quick
�Good evening sir,� she walked away. Patrick watched her ass as she
walked. It was lovely, and he bit his lip, wishing he could have it.
Patrick got up from his chair. He did not like staying after he failed
at winning a prospect. The woman might talk, and embarrass him. He
watched the woman as she strode quickly past the toddler pool. She
waved to someone near the adult water slide.
�DON�T LEAVE!� a young voice cried. Patrick was startled to see the
girl who had been smiling in his direction suddenly plop into the chair
vacated by the woman. �WHAT�S YOUR NAME?� she asked, loudly and
exuberantly, as if he were a mile away and hard of hearing.
�I�m--� Patrick was about to say �leaving,� but his eyes fell on the
girl�s breasts, and he felt his heart stop. Not literally, for he exercised
every day and he had not had that problem yet, despite several friends who
had.
�Patrick.�
�I�M KELLI!�
�Pleased to meet you, Kelli,� Patrick said. He sat back down. His
eyes lingered on the girl�s breasts.
�My boyfriend is sitting over there,� Kelli said. Her voice was no
longer a shout. She pointed. Patrick followed the girl�s finger. He saw a
man sitting on the other side of the toddler pool. Kelli waved to the man.
�He�s Mark,� Kelli said.
�He�s... older than you,� Patrick said.
�He took me to a Bottom Party,� Kelli said cheerfully.
Patrick looked at the girl. Had she said what he thought she said?
�A... Bottom Party?� Patrick asked.
�It was pretty fun, but it hurt too,� Kelli said. She wiggled in her
chair. �Don�t tell Mark I told you,� Kelli confided.
�I... won�t,� Patrick said.
They began talking. Patrick proved to be more reluctant than Kelli�s
fourth grade teacher. But eventually he opened up. Finally he confessed to
Kelli that he liked her.
�I�m glad,� Kelli said.
�You are?� Patrick asked.
�Yes,� Kelli said. �I want you to be my new boyfriend.� She gave
him a big smile.
�I-- I can�t be,� Patrick stammered. �I�m old enough to be your
father. Your grandfather, even. I have white hair. See?� Patrick pointed
to his head. �But most importantly, as I explained to you, I�m a sadist. I
take as much pleasure in whipping a woman as in fucking her. And you�re a
child.�
�I went to a Bottom Party,� Kelli said.
Patrick cleared his throat. �I�m not responsible for what some other
man does with you. Or for your fantasies,� Patrick added.
�Do you think I�m making it up?� Kelli asked.
�What?� Patrick said.
�The Bottom Party!� Kelli said.
�Shhhh.� Patrick answered. He glanced at the mothers, and their
toddlers. �Yes I think you�re making the whole thing up,� Patrick told
Kelli. �Frankly, I think you need a good spanking for saying such things,
and I�d give it to you myself if we weren�t in a public place.�
Kelli shivered. She wiggled in her chair and smiled.
�I�m serious,� Patrick told her.
�No you�re not. You�re just making it up!� Kelli said.
�Touche,� Patrick thought, but he didn�t say it. Since when were 13-
year-old girls so smart? And so smart-assed, for that matter? One
minute the girl is playing in the toddler pool and the next she�s on top of
him in an argument. An argument about sadism, no less.
Suddenly Patrick decided to treat the young girl sitting beside him
as a woman. He looked at her. He tried not to look at her breasts, which
were making his mouth water, but at her eyes, which were big and round
and lovely.
�If you think,� Patrick said, �That I�m incapable of spanking someone
as young as you, just know that I am restraining myself. Also, just for
your information, only the finest bottoms are accepted at my reservation.�
Kelli pouted. Patrick saw her lips turn down and he thrilled at how
cute she looked that way, with baby fat still in her cheeks, and her eyes
looking as if they might cry. At the same time he felt his heart break in
his chest, figuratively, of course, for he knew she was sad not because
he�d given her a red bottom but because he�d refused her.
Kelli stood up. She turned her back to him. Patrick tried to look
away. But he couldn�t, for it was the first time he�d gotten to look at
Kelli�s ass at such a close distance. It was gorgeous! Apple round, with
cheeks as chubby as those in her face. At the same time her hips were
narrow, still being childish hips, and so Patrick found himself staring at a
bottom whose beauty was only matched by Kelli�s sumptuous tits.
�WHAT DO YOU THINK?� Kelli asked, still standing with her back to
Patrick.
�Huh?� Patrick asked.
�WHAT DO YOU THINK?� Kelli asked again.
�For God�s sake don�t shout,� Patrick muttered. Two of the three
mothers in the toddler pool were looking at him. �You have a wonderful
bottom,� Patrick said. Then, hastily, hoping to dismiss the girl with the
words, he added, �But I would have to examine it naked, to be absolutely
certain. And that�s quite impossible.�
Kelli considered mooning the man. But she felt a little too old for
that, and she was standing next to the toddler pool, where the children
might see her. Still, she felt mesmerized by this strange, fatherly figure.
She wanted him, whatever he might do to her, and she was angry that he
didn�t believe she�d gone to a Bottom Party.
Kelli spun about. She looked at the grey-headed man. �I�m an adult!�
she announced to him. She stuck her thumb out, and jammed it into her
chest, as if to point to her bosoms as proof. �If you don�t want me I�ll find
someone else.� Patrick stood up.
�You already have a boyfriend,� Patrick said.
�He sleeps with my aunt,� Kelli said. �You would pay me more
attention.� Then, almost plaintively, she added, �Wouldn�t you?�
�Perhaps,� Patrick said. He felt his resistance soften. The girl was
so lovely, so lively! �But I told you I have three other girls. You would
just be the fourth.�
�But I would be special,� Kelli said. �You would like me the most.�
�Perhaps I would,� Patrick admitted, still marvelling at the girl�s
youth, and her brashness, and her figure. �Perhaps I would.�
�Then it�s settled,� Kelli said. �I�m your girlfriend. And I don�t care
what you do to me, as long as you like me.� She threw her arms around
Patrick. They wrapped around his ribs, for she was shorter than he was.
She pressed her head to his chest. She rubbed her cheek against his white
chest hair. �The most,� Kelli added.
�I wouldn�t have too much trouble liking you the most,� Patrick
confessed. He felt the girl�s young, warm body pressing against him. He
felt her breathing and he felt the softness of her, her cheek, her hands, her
lovely slim arms, and her ripe bosoms pressing against his crotch. Did he
really dare to dream of having her? Of whipping her? He glanced at the
man Kelli claimed was her boyfriend. He had gotten up. He was coming
towards them.
�Oh, shit,� Patrick swore, under his breath. With the luck he was
having today, first losing the woman he wanted and then getting a girl he
was scared to have, the �boyfriend� would turn out to be this 13-year-old
girl�s father.
30
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