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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                       LABORS OF LOVE

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                                          Chapter One

         They met shortly after dark, so the neighbors would be less 
observant.  Checking his necktie, Chip rang the doorbell.  He straightened 
his sport coat.  It was a large house, and it took a moment for any sound or 
lights to awaken within in response to his pressing the bell.  Chip glanced 
over his shoulder at his Corvette.  It stood about 20 feet away.  The 
house�s front yard was more for show than for depth.  But it was a big, 
expensive two-story house.  People preferred to spend their money on 
house rather than yard in this neighborhood.
         Chip waited.  He did not wish to ring again.  But he glanced sideways 
at one of the big display windows by the front door, modestly shrouded 
within by a curtain.  Then, as if in answer to his anxious glance, the 
curtain illuminated.  A light had been turned on within.  He thought he 
heard footsteps.  Suddenly, as if emerging from some silent tomb, like a 
liberated princess, the woman answered.  Chip broke into an immediate 
smile and she smiled back.
         �Hi, chip,� Annette said.  Her eyes twinkled.  She was a petite 
blonde, but with a generous bosom and curvy hips beneath her wasp-like 
waist.  Her eyes scanned his physique as if looking for something.  Chip 
tried not to stare at her low-cut blouse and was successful, at least 
momentarily.  Annette wore a peasant blouse.  It showed off the brown 
tanned skin of her thin fragile shoulders as well as the upper curve of her 
breasts.  Annette drew Chip indoors and closed the door quickly behind 
him.
         �Hi, Annette,� Chip replied inside the foyer.  In saying hello to her, 
Chip inadventently let his eyes fall to her bosom.  The overhead light in 
the foyer cast a rich glow onto her breasts.  They were sumptuous, lily-
white, full and firm, bouncing with every movement she made.  Annette, 
safe in her own house, wore no bra.
         Chip cleared his thoat and felt an immediate erection pop into his 
pants.  He was young and it was uncomfortable.  He wished he could 
control himself better.  Annette, being petite, had no trouble scanning his 
trousers below his belt.  She noticed Chip�s hard-on and her taking note of 
it, with a little flick of her tongue across her lips, made poor Chip even 
harder.  Then Annette, pretending quite sweetly as if she�d seen nothing at 
all, took Chip�s hand.
         �Come, I want you to meet my husband!� she smiled.  They walked 
together from the tiled foyer into a carpeted living room.  Beyond that was 
a den and, standing with his back to them, pouring himself a drink, Chip 
saw him.  He was as tall as Chip but with broader shoulders.  He had on an 
expensive pair of slacks and a shirt, but no coat.  �Dear, Chip�s here.�
         �Ah, yes, how nice to meet you, Chip.  I�m Dave,� Annette�s husband 
said.  He turned and for a moment Chip thought he had been introduced to 
Sean Connery, for the man looked very much like him, although he would 
have been the Bond-Connery, young and lacking a beard.  But he was at 
least a decade older than Chip.  
         �Pleased to meet you,� Chip said.  He almost added �Sir� from his 
four-year stint in the military but he but it off at the last moment.  Dave 
extended his hand and Chip took it and they shared a warm handshake.
         �I understand you met my wife at the health club?� Dave asked.  He 
stirred his drink and then took a swallow.  Annette, still holding Chip�s 
hand, squeezed it.
         �Uh, yeah,� Chip replied.  �I lift weights a lot.  I finally have time 
now that I�m out of the military.�
         �Excellent,� Dave said.  �We�ll have to lift together sometime.  You 
look like you could add some extra pounds if you keep it up.�  Dave, not 
quite able to check his pride at his own physique, flexed his shoulders.  
         �Yeah, I�m kinda skinny, but I guess with my broad shoulders... 
y�know,� Chip felt embarrassed talking about his goals.
         �The next Arnold Schwarzennegger I�m sure,� Dave said.  He grinned.  
�Drink?�
         �Just a beer,� Chip answered.
         �There�s some excellent Blue Boar Pale Ale in the fridge, by 
Weinhard,� Dave suggested.  �Why don�t you get it, honey?�  Dave looked at 
his wife.  
         �Sure,� she smiled.  Annette turned and sashayed quickly from the 
room.  Chip watched her depart, open-mouthed.  She wore a short skirt and 
every flick of her sexy ass threatened to show her undies.  Chip caught a 
glimpse of them; modest white schoolgirl undies that he had to laugh at a 
little, for their plans for the evening were most immodest indeed.
         �You have a great wife,� Chip said when Annette was gone.
         �Thanks,� Dave replied.  He hadn�t failed to notice Chip�s condition 
below the belt when the young man entered the room.  He knew the younger 
male wasn�t sporting a bulge in his crotch for him.
         �You�re not married?� Dave asked.
         �No.  I just got out of the Army,� Chip answered.
         �Yes.  Right.  Keep you busy, do they?�
         �I was in Bosnia two years, then, well, just busy and stuff, I guess,� 
Chip answered.
         �And shy,� Dave thought.  But he didn�t say it, for a soft-spoken 
addition to his relationship with Annette was just what the two of them 
wanted.  Someone young, not pushy, someone whom they could both enjoy 
sharing their love life with and then who would have the courtesy to 
excuse himself.
         �Here�s your beer,� Annette said.  She bounced back into the room, 
her shoulder-length blonde curls dancing and her bosom, so discreetly but 
deliciously displayed, shaking and quivering with her every step.  
         �Thanks,� Chip smiled.  The beer was already open and he took a 
quick swig.  It was sweet.  He hadn�t had much time for drinking beer in 
the army, being underage three out of his four years of his stint.  He still 
wasn�t terribly used to the taste.  
         �Were you guys talking about me?� Annette asked.  She seemed to 
love being the center of attention.
         �Not actually, dear,� Dave said in a voice that seemed to scold her a 
little.
         �Well, dinner�s ready, anyway,� Annette said.  She bowed her head a 
little to show she didn�t wish to be pushy.
         �Then let�s eat!  I�m starving,� Dave said.  �Chip?�
         �Sure,� Chip replied.  But inside his stomach was all tied up in knots 
for he hadn�t gotten laid since leaving the army.  Annette took his hand 
sympathetically.  He smiled at her and Dave waited for them to go ahead.  
She gave him a tug and he let her lead him into the dining room.
         Gallantly Chip seated Annette.  Dave watched.  Then the two men sat 
down.  Dave was favored with the head of the table, as the master of the 
house.  Annette sat right around the corner from him, and next to her, like 
an eldest son, was Chip.  He glanced again at Annette�s breasts and mused 
that the woman was barely older than himself; perhaps a year younger.  
She tossed her blonde curls back and reached for their salad.  It was 
Fennel and Endive Salad, with a light dressing of Wheat Beer.  Carefully 
Annette served Chip first, then her husband Dave.  Finally she served 
herself.  
         They ate quietly.  Annette revealed that she was taking a class in 
human anatomy at the local college.
         �Doctor?� Chip asked, his mouth full.
         �No, I�m just studying to be a dietician,� Annette answered.  Chip 
felt somehow relieved.  Dave was an imposing presence enough.  
         �How about you, Chip?  Are you considering college?� Dave asked.
         �Sure,� Chip replied.
         �Annette can probably help you fill out the forms if you decide to 
go.�
         �That would be great,� Chip answered.
         �You�d make a great doctor,� Annette smiled at Chip.
         �Thanks,� Chip answered.
         �My husband�s a vice president at a bank,� Annette said.
         �Oh.  Maybe I�ll need a loan to go to college,� Chip suggested.
         �The college would have that available,� Dave answered.  �Student 
loan office.�
         �Oh yeah,� Chip said.  He considered asking about a loan for a car, a 
new car to replace his aging Camaro.  But then he remembered that he was 
being loaned something much more valuable this evening, if all the right 
cards fell into place.  He coughed and forked another bit of salad into his 
mouth.
         �Are you okay?� Annette asked.
         �Yeah,� Chip replied.
         �Do you need another beer?� she asked.
         �No, really, I don�t,� Chip answered.  She seemed to sense his 
nervousness and smiled.  �Don�t eat if you can�t,� she whispered.  She 
squeezed his thigh with her small, pink-nailed hand.
         �It�s very good,� was all Chip could say in reply.
         Dinner consisted of grilled pork tenderloin with golden ale gravy.  
Chip wondered if all the beer was intended to loosen him up.  He felt loose 
enough, at least with regard to the decision they were all heading 
towards.  Just his stomach and his crotch were tight.  The beer did taste 
good, though.
         �Better than Budweiser,� he smiled at Dave.
         �She likes using beer on food,� Dave replied.  �Doesn�t drink much 
out of the bottle, but likes it on her food.�
         �Yeah, great,� Chip replied.  Annette took a small sip of Blue Boar.  
Her bottle was mostly full.  She savored the taste of it as if the boar 
might have added something extra just for her.
         �Have you ever tried swinging?� Dave asked as the meal wound down.  
         �Not really.  Read about it in the Army, though.  In Penthouse,� Chip 
answered.  
         �Of course,� Dave replied.  Annette giggled.  She excused herself to 
get their dessert and, for the moment, there was nothing but silence, the 
two men, sitting apart, eating, looking down at their plates.  Then annette 
returned with jello parfaits.
         �We try some swinging now and then,� Dave said.  Annette returned 
to her seat and sexily began spooning her jello into her mouth.  It was 
topped with whipped cream and the cream got on her upper lip.  She licked 
it off, then spooned in more jello and reacquired the white cream 
mustache.  She licked her lips again.
         �It�s hard to find the right person,� Annette said.  She looked up at 
Chip with wide, innocent eyes, as if discussing some relative�s marriage.  
Except they were discussing themselves, not someone else.  And it hardly 
fit within the Pope�s definition of marriage.
         �Yeah, I guess so, but...� Chip let his voice trial off.  He smiled 
sheepishly at Annette and couldn�t help admiring her exposed bosom.
         �It has to be someone handsome of course,� Annette said.  �And not 
some old fogey.  Preferably not even someone Dave�s age.�  She shot a 
glance at her husband.  �Sweet as he is.�  Her eyes returned to Chip.  
�When I saw you pumping iron, working so hard,� she smiled.
         �I looked like just your type, eh?� Chip smiled.
         Annette scrunched up her nose and returned to her jello.  �Well, it 
has to be someone who can Fuck,� she said in a sweet, schoolgirl voice.  �I 
mean, that�s mainly what he�s for.  Don�t you agree, dear?� she asked her 
husband.  Sexily she plopped a big gob of jello on her tongue.
         �Yes, that most certainly,� Dave said.  �But of course sometimes we 
invite a girl over, when it�s my turn to have my fantasies realized.  It�s 
too bad that stewardess left.�
         �Oh, you!� Annette scolded her husband.  She looked at Chip.  �He 
makes me have sex with a GIRL!  I don�t really like it.  Do you like seeing 
two girls make love?� 
         �Uh, well, in Penthouse I do,� Chip replied.  His penis felt absolutely 
engorged in his pants and he wondered if there was any way he could get 
some room for himself in his trousers.  He didn�t want to reach down and 
yank at his pants.  It would seem so immature, doing that.
         �So what do you say, Chip?� Dave asked.  �Care to spend the evening 
with us?�
         �Sure, I guess so,� Chip said.  He spooned jello into his mouth 
without looking at either Dave or his wife.
         �Well, dear, I guess we should show Chip our playroom, then,� 
Annette suggested.  �Should I do the dishes first?�
         �No, I don�t think Chip would appreciate that,� Dave replied.  Chip, 
unable to stand the pain in his groin, reached down and yanked at his 
crotch to try to give himself room.
         �Oh,� Annette said.  She glanced at Chip.  Her eyes seemed huge as 
saucers and her mouth was a little O, like a rosebud waiting to be forced 
to open into a rose.  
         Dave stood up.  Chip glanced at the man�s crotch and thought he saw 
a slight bulge.  Obviously ten extra years of sex helped a man keep himself 
down until it was time.  Chip stood up, expecting Annette to reach for his 
hand.  Instead, she sat like a little rabbit between the two risen men.  She 
stared at her jello but didn�t spoon any more of it out of the glass.
         �Stand up, Annette,� Dave ordered his wife.  �We�re not going down 
without you.�
         Chip, sensing she wished to be fey, reached out himself and stroked 
her bare shoulders.  He felt bashful but at the same time he sensed, like an 
errant schoolboy, that he could pull down her blouse if he wished.  He 
found the sensation irresistible.  Carefully pushing the sleeves of her 
blouse further down her arms, as if asking permission, he then drew the 
blouse down over her nipples.  They popped out erect and hard as coral.  
They were pink, pink as her glossy lips, with a touch of red.
         Annette sat unmoving.  Chip felt himself trembling.  He reached 
within the lowered blouse and hefted out Annette�s gorgeous bosoms.  He 
squeezed them.  They were delicious to touch and he wanted to bend down 
and suck at them like a child.
         Dave cleared his throat.
         Quickly, as if afraid of his own desire, Chip pulled Annette�s blouse 
back up.  He remembered once when he�d been in a girl�s bedroom and her 
father had come motoring up the drive.  They�d been furtive, quickly 
dressing, their love only half-complete.
         �I�m sorry,� Chip said in a broken voice.
         �It�s okay, Chip,� Annette said.  She clasped his hand to her bosom 
before it could dart away.  A silence followed, Annette still staring at her 
half-eaten glass of jello, Chip cupping her nearest breast.  As she held his 
hand he began to palp the warm full globe beneath his fingers.  It felt so 
deliciously feminine.  She held his hand, letting him feel her.  Her blouse 
remained a barrier between his hand and her breast but he had no trouble 
feeling the perking of her nipple.  He traced it with his fingers when he 
was done squeezing the globe itself.
         �Yes, that feels nice,� Annette said suddenly.  She slid his hand off 
her bosom and stood up quickly.  She glanced down at herself and 
straightened her peasant blouse, holding it where it covered her breasts 
and pulling it up a little to keep herself modest.  Her fingers were small, 
like little darts.  Her nails were sharp.  Watching her, Chip wondered if her 
nails might tear open the front of her blouse, but they didn�t.  She handled 
her blouse by its upper hem, carefully.
         �Chip,� Dave said, as the two men waited chivalrously for the only 
female between them to straighten her blouse.  �There may be a little pain 
involved in our lovemaking.�
         �I�m already in pain,� Chip replied.  He was full in the front of his 
trousers and he knew Dave could easily see how erect he was in his jeans.  
Dave pointedly cast his eyes to Chip�s groin.
         �Yes, well, obviously that�s got to be a little painful,� Dave agreed.  
�But I mean imposed pain, you know, bondage and stuff,� Dave said.
         �I-I think I can handle it,� Chip replied.  He looked with mesmerized 
eyes at Annette, who still stood with her back to them, at her place at the 
table, straightening her blouse.  She was fixing her sleeves now, pulled 
down by Chip.  Suddenly she dropped her hands and spun about, her curls 
flying.  She smiled at Chip.
         �You�ll like our basement,� she said.  She glanced at his trousers.  
�My you�re big.  I�d unzip you but I don�t want you drooling all over my 
carpet.�
         �Yeah.  Thanks,� Chip answered.  He felt a little like he was in a 
daze, with such a luscious babe standing in front of him, obviously sexy 
and not minding the least his big impolite boner.
         The three of them drifted out of the dining room.  There was a sense 
of urgency and yet they moved languidly.  Annette took Chip�s hand to 
reassure him.  Yet she seemed to seek a bit of reassurance from him, 
perhaps that she was acceptable, and Chip squeezed her hand to let her 
know she was the finest creature he�d yet laid eyes on in his 21 years.
         �How old are you?� Chip asked suddenly as Dave opened a door and 
let them pass.
         �20, not legal to drink yet,� Annette sighed.  Then she smiled.  Her 
breath was a sweet mixture of jello and beer.  She tugged on Chip�s hand 
and he needed little encouragement to walk with her down a steep flight 
of stairs.  As they took the first steps Dave, behind them, flicked on a 
light downstairs.
         Chip�s eyes nearly popped out to the size of his groin when he saw 
what Annette and Dave had waiting for him.  It was a dungeon, not a 
basement.  All around the room he saw equipment of various types, like an 
exercise room.  But the machines were made of wood and leather, and had 
chains attached, and straps.  In one corner pillows and cushions were 
piled, as if to give a resting place to the weary.  On the opposite side of 
the room, offering up a plume of steam, a jaccuzzi could be heard bubbling.  
Chip saw no bed, but he suspected a male rarely escaped this room without 
leaving something behind.  In fact, when Annette squeezed his hand he 
almost put something right into his pants.
         Annette let go of Chip�s hand and walked over to a small bench.  
There, piled neatly, appeared to be some bits of fabric.  She was joined by 
Dave, and the two of them fussed for a moment, choosing first one bit of 
fabric and then another.  Finally Annette walked over to Chip.
         �Here,� she said.  She extended her palm to him.  Draped within it 
was an inconsequential bit of nylon.  �Take everything off and put this on,� 
she said.
         Chip gaped at the little item cupped in her palm.  Slowly he raised 
his hands and lifted from her outstretched hand what turned out to be a 
minimal jockstrap.  It was too small to be a swimsuit, but nonetheless it 
had a flowery pattern on it.  Poinsettas, backed with ocean blue.  The 
jockstrap-swimsuit had a thong back.  Unlike a jock, it lacked the 
additional straps that circled the thighs.  Instead there was merely a 
waistband, less than an inch wide.  Hanging down from that was a pouch, 
much too small for his penis, though Chip realized he was expected to try 
to stuff himself in anyway.  Extending back from the barely-there pouch 
was a thong, which no doubt, in some fantasy, expected to cover his 
bulging balls and then run up between his buttcheeks to rejoin his 
waistband at the back.
         �How am I supposed to get into this thing?� Chip asked.  He shook 
the suit and hoped that a bigger pouch would somehow fall out for his dick 
to fit into.
         �That�s your problem, sweetie.  You should see what I have to wear,� 
Annette smiled.  �At least you don�t have to tie any bows.�
         �I hope not,� Chip said.  �Altough a bow would no doubt double the 
amount of material I have to work with.�  His cock felt painfully engorged 
and he tugged at the nylon pouch.  At least it wouldn�t be as imprisoning as 
his damn Levis jeans.
         �Oh, and put this on too,� Annette said.  She smirked.  She handed 
him a flanged plug.
         �What the fuck?� Chip asked.  �This is...  I�ve seen one of these...  
this is a butt plug!�
         �Just shove it in.  There�s some lube in the dressing room if you need 
it,� Annette said.  
         �I told you it would be a little bit painful, Chip,� Dave said.  He was 
still at the bench.  He was holding a pair of black lycra slacks for himself.  
         �But, sir,� Chip stammered.
         �You�ll hardly feel it when you�ve got yourself up my wife,� Dave 
replied.  
         �It actually makes the act of doing it more enjoyable,� Annette 
whispered.
         �Damn.  It won�t make me... gay or anything... will it?� Chip asked.  
His voice came out in a broken soprano, like a 15-year-old.
         �Not at all,� Dave reassured him.  
         Annette smiled and pinched Chip�s thigh encouragingly.  Her eyes 
begged him to be a good sport.
         �Shit,� Chip swore.  But he turned away, Annette beaming after him, 
still holding the plug as well as the nylon swimsuit.
         �Your dressing room�s over there,� Annette said.  She gave his ass a 
playful slap.  �Hurry, we want to start playing!�
         �Okay,� Chip agreed.  He walked over to the place Annette had 
indicated.  There was a simple curtain, covering what appeared to be an 
alcove in the wall.  He pushed back the curtain and saw it was a small 
alcove, with a wooden bench, a mirror, and a hook in the wall for his 
clothes.
         Chip spun his head about one last time, anxiously, but saw that 
Annette and Dave were already retreating into separate dressing rooms of 
their own, near to the bench where the clothes had been laid.  He wondered 
if there was anything better he might cop from the bench.  Squinting his 
eyes, he saw only female nightgowns.  Then, as if urging him on, he 
suddenly felt as if he might spill in his pants.  Quickly he darted into the 
dressing room.  Yanking at his belt, then his button and his zipper, he got 
his pants open.  He still held his swimsuit in one of his hands the whole 
time, it was so small.  And in his other hand he managed to grip the plug 
Annette wanted to see him put up his butt.
         With relief Chip shoved his pants and his underpants down.  His cock 
sprang out like a liberated snake.  Worriedly he gazed at it and then down 
into his underpants to see if he�d lost any of his load.  There was a 
wetness of pre-cum in his underpants but no sperm.  Chip breathed a sigh 
of relief.  Then, contemplating the swimsuit Annette had given him, he 
wondered if he wouldn�t be better off shooting his cum first before trying 
to fit himself into it.  Well, he couldn�t do that, he told himself.  Where 
would he put his sperm?  There was no toilet in this tiny dressing room.  
And he might prove less useful without his load.  He didn�t want to 
disappoint his hosts, especially Annette.
         Chip heard squeals across the room as he hung up his clothes.  He 
guessed Annette had gotten her nightie, or whatever it was, on and was 
getting her husband to tie her into it.  She�d said it had lots of bows.  
Quickly Chip stepped into the swimsuit she�d given him.  He pulled it up 
his legs and contemplated his erection.  How the HELL was he supposed to 
get this on?  Then he remembered the butt plug.  He dropped the suit to the 
floor and stepped out of one of the leg holes.  On the wooden bench, where 
he�d laid down the plug, was a jar of vaseline.  He picked it up.  It was 
new.  With some effort he twisted the jar�s lid open.  His hands were 
shaking.  He dipped the plug in the vaseline.  Drawing it out all gooey, 
except for the flange, he bent forward and looked at himself in the mirror.  
         �My Army buddies would laugh all the way to Russia and back again 
over this,� he told himself.  The mirror was full length and as he spoke to 
himself he couldn�t help noticing his big dick wobbling around in front of 
him, sticking out from his legs like the huge neck of a very long beer 
bottle.  His balls felt impossibly swollen and he had a deep desire to 
shoot.
         �Ungh,� Chip said.  He pressed the plug between his ass cheeks.  His 
anus refused to budge.  He�d never had anything go UP him before!  �God 
damn this is stupid,� he swore.
         Suddenly the curtain swooshed open.  Without bothering to close it, a 
beaming Annette stepped inside.  She was dressed in a darling teddy.  It 
was white, like a baby doll, and sported a little flutter-style bottom that 
tried, but failed quite spectacularly, to cover her bottom.  It hung down 
from her waist like some obscene skirt.  Underneath it, for it was see-
through, the teddy, also see-through, covered her pubis and dwindled to a 
thong that ran beneath her and then up the crack of her bottom.  In back the 
thong had been tied to her teddy with a big pink satin bow.  Pink bows 
served as shoulder-straps for the teddy, each being separately tied atop 
Annette�s shoulders.  Finally, where her bosom brooded, full and round and 
inviting, the teddy had drop-away cups that had been carefully tied up 
with pink bows to keep her bosoms from falling out.  The cups, though, 
were see-through like the rest of her teddy, hiding nothing.  Annette�s hair 
was put up in a sexy chignon.
         �Hi sweetie, having trouble?� Annette asked.  She gazed at Chip�s 
penis but was strictly business, taking the butt plug from him.  She 
stepped behind him and contemplated his bare ass.  Lightly she placed a 
palm on it.  He had a white bottom, from swimming.  The rest of him, 
except where his real swimsuit covered him in front, was richly tanned.  
�Bend forward more,� Annette advised Chip.  
         Chip�s penis was too desperate, and Annette too beautiful and 
promising, for him to refuse.  He felt like an idiot but nonetheless he bent 
over and put his hands on his knees.  He let her pry his ass open with her 
fingertips.
         �You understand that you must be a little bit below my husband to 
protect his ego,� Annette consoled him.  She spread his buns apart and 
seemed to relish touching him there.  Chip felt the smooth glide of the 
vaselined butt plug intrude between the halves of his seat.  It�s nub 
bumped against his tight anus.  �This helps show your position, relative to 
him,� Annette said.  �It�s nothing, really.  You�ll like the sensation of 
having it in you when we...� 
         �Ouch!� Chip roared.  Annette�s last word was drowned out by his 
shout.  With firm feminine hands Annette stuck the wide-mouthed plug 
with its wider flange up Chip�s bottom.  She twisted it a little to make 
sure it was in tight.  Then she let go of his seat.  There was a kleenex box 
next to the vaseline.  She drew a kleenex from it and wiped her fingers.
         �You�re tight,� she smirked at Chip.  �Was that your first?�
         �And my last,� he assured her.  She looked at his erection and 
blushed.  
         �Get your swimsuit on,� she said.  
         �I almost creamed in my pants, they were so tight,� Chip warned her.
         Annette put one of her small fingers against the pee slit on the end 
of his cock.  �I have confidence in you,� she said.  �Anyway, you�re bigger 
and older than me, so be a big boy and don�t lose yourself.  Do you think I 
don�t notice this little thong thingy?  It fits right between the lips of my 
cunt.�  Annette squatted a little and thrust her hips forward and lifted the 
frill-dress that circled her hips.  Chip caught a glimpse of the honeypot 
that waited for him if he did as they wished.  A small thong, perhaps only 
an eighth of an inch in width, bisected her cunny.  Her lips closed over it, 
it was so small, and he had no doubt that when she walked it rubbed quite 
noticeably against her.
         �Yeah but you�re a girl,� Chip replied.
         �Do you think I like being made wet?� she asked.  �I mean, you know, 
it just keeps on rubbing.�
         �I definitely want you wet,� Chip replied.
         �Oh, you!� Annette said.  She gave the cheek of his face a slap, but 
lightly, as if afraid she might hurt him.  Then she pranced from the 
dressing room and was gone.  Chip watched her small lovely bottom, 
hopelessly bared by the decorative frill of a dress she wore with her 
teddy.  It was designed to rise in back to cover her less there than in 
front.  As a result she looked more like some naughty show-pony, all 
decked out in pink ribbons, than a girl.  Chip pulled the curtain of his 
dressing room shut.  He could barely stand to watch her.  She made him 
stiffer than he already was, and he was already far too big for the little 
swim-thong she�d given him.
         Some time later, having somehow managed to struggle into his suit, 
Chip emerged from his dressing room.  The pouch which was supposed to 
cover his penis instead wedged in on it from all sides.  It balled his cock 
up and simultaneously lifted it.  He looked like a walking codpiece, nothing 
but manhood, his poor dick displayed in front of him in blue and poinsetta-
red nylon.  His balls hung out on either side of a little thong that 
traveresed between them, then ran back farther to wedge itself in his ass.  
Only the buttplug, sticking up from between his cheeks, managed to lift 
the thong out of his seat, where it crossed over the plug�s flange before 
descending briefly into his crack again and then escaping it to join up with 
his suit�s waistband.
         Annette stood across the room from him.  She had one finger in her 
mouth, contemplatively.  Hanging from her wrist was a handcuff, one of 
the metal cuffs still dangling free.
         �Well, you look all ready to party,� Annette said, smiling at Chip and 
taking her finger out of her mouth.  Then, all of a sudden, behind her, 
shocking her a little, her husband emerged from his dressing room.  Chip 
stopped in his tracks.  
         Dave wore a hood.  It covered his face down to the level of his mouth.  
There were eye holes cut into it and his eyes glared out first at Chip, then 
at Annette.  He cracked a whip and his wife leapt up where she stood and 
then retreated quickly from him.  She crossed the room to Chip and he 
found himself receiving her into his arms.  
         �Isn�t he gorgeous?� Annette asked, turning her head back toward 
her husband even as she looped her arms up around Chip�s neck.  For a 
moment Chip considered, not sure where she was asking him about her 
husband, or vice versa.  Finally he decided she might be asking her husband 
and, willing to take any compliment he could get, Chip said nothing.
         Dave advanced implacably toward Chip and his wife.  Absently, but 
with a sense of menace, he snapped a large bullwhip in front of him and 
out to the side as he walked.  His hood, leaving his mouth revealed, which 
was grimly set, continued down his back and over his shoulders to form a 
black cape.  Yet the cape stopped just short of his buttocks, leaving them 
bare in the cool air of the dungeon.  In addition to the hood and cape he 
wore tight spandex trousers.  But they lacked a zipper, and so the halves 
of the fly were open.  Through the unzipperable fly stuck Dave�s penis.  It 
was large, perhaps even larger than Chip�s, still stuffed so painfully in his 
poinsetta swimsuit.  In addition his balls showed, but they were tightly 
drawn up with excitement and simply rolled behind and a little under his 
dick, like a giant hairy softball.  Dave�s pants were stuffed into polished 
knee-length boots.  Chip wondered if Annette had polished them for him.  
Dick joggling like a long erect hose out in front of him, Dave approached 
the new couple, Annette and Chip�s.  Annette squeezed Chip�s groin 
hopefully, as if praying for rescue.  Chip felt like Tarzan, except Tarzan, in 
his animal skin loincloth, would have been much better clothed than he 
was.
         Fearing he might be struck right on his bulging groin, Chip 
nonetheless put himself between Annette and Dave�s whip.  He tucked the 
bosomy girl under his arm and got himself out in front of her.
         �I hope you�re not planning to do anything dangerous with that whip,� 
Chip said to Dave.
         �Or to your groin?� Dave asked.
         �Yeah, that too,� Chip replied.  Annette gave him another encouraging 
squeeze right where he needed it least.
         �It looks to me like you�ve got more trouble from her than from me,� 
Dave replied.  �She�ll have a sore bottom by morning, that�s all I can say.  
Won�t you, dear?�
         �I hope not,� Annette said meekly.  Chip reached down and gave 
Annette�s plump little ass a squeeze.  
         �She�ll be sore, I agree with that,� Chip said.  He stuck a finger 
between her legs, making her flinch.  Annette let out a little squeal as 
Chip dug into the lips of her labia.  The thong of her teddy managed to 
block his dig.
         As the two men faced each other down, Annette managed to slip free 
of both Chip�s encircling arm and his finger.  She danced quite happily over 
to a nearby table.  A moment later she returned with a bottle.  She kissed 
Chip on the cheek.  Then, with a quizzical look on her face, she put a finger 
into the front of his swimsuit.  She drew it open and, without warning 
him, she poured the contents of the bottle into his suit.
         �Yeeeow!� Chip cried.  It was more from surprise than from actual 
pain, but the lotion that Annette had poured quite quickly into his suit was 
hot oil!  Chip looked down at himself and watched as Annette let go of his 
suit.  It snapped shut, then opened again as his penis, ever more erect 
(though that seemed hardly possible) swelled within his suit.  
         �Oh, that oil is hot!� Chip announced.  He felt the oil run from within 
his crotch down the sides of his legs, escaping out the barely-there 
�legholes� of his suit.  �Why did you do that?� he asked Annette.
         �To lubricate you,� she smiled.  �You do plan to do something with 
that penis of yours, don�t you?�
         �You�re a slut,� Chip said to her.
         �That�s probably why I�ll be sore in the morning,� Annette replied.  
Screwing up her face like a child contemplating some punishment, she 
rubbed her hands on her bottom.  Her husband snapped the whip against the 
floor.  Annette shivered.  Then, composing herself, she tossed a loose 
blonde curl of her lovely hair from her eyes and smiled.  �I guess in the 
meantime, though, I�ve got two big bad men I�ve got to somehow keep from 
fighting each other.  Gentlemen, let�s have tea.  When I was a little girl my 
mom always had a tea party for me and my sister when we got into each 
other�s hair.�
         Quite bizzarely, but with both Chip and Dave mesmerized by the 
little blonde, Annette took first Chip by his penis and then her husband.  
She drew both of them over behind a rack, where perhaps she might later 
be punished, and Chip saw a tea set on a small purple and green child�s 
table.  
         Arranged around the table, which should have been in some children�s 
center, but was instead marooned amidst torture machines in a dungeon, 
were three small chairs.  They lacked backs, and, being of molded plastic, 
were in the shape of toadstools.  Annette made each of her paramours sit 
down on a toadstool.  Dave, turning away from Chip to sit down, revealed 
that his pants had no seat.  So both men sat down bare-assed on the 
toadstools, their bare hairy asses sitting where prim little girl�s dresses 
belonged.  Annette, herself lacking any covering over her bottom, except 
her frilly �skirt,� which was in fact too short in back to cover her ass, sat 
down bare assed on a toadstool of her own.  The three were quite crowded 
around the little table.  The men had to sit sideways, their knees drawn up 
to their chests and their penises sticking knob-like through their hairy 
legs.  Annette also sat sideways, but much more decorously, as if she�d 
continued to celebrate tea parties right through her teenage years.  She 
was facing toward Chip and with just an arch sideways of his head he 
could see her lovely thong-threaded pussy between her drawn up thighs.
         There was a hot plate on the table and some thoughtful soul, perhaps 
Annette herself while the men were �dressing,� had turned it on.  Atop the 
hot plate simmered a kettle of tea.  It was a Disney kettle, made to 
resemble some character from Alice in Wonderland.
         �Now I expect you guys to be on your best behavior at my tea party,� 
Annette said.  Then she noticed Chip had pulled down the front of his 
trunks before sitting down.  �Chip!  Put your penis away, please,� she 
admonished.
         �Well, his is out,� Chip said, pointing (in more ways than one) to 
Dave.
         �Dave is my husband.  He�s allowed to show his penis to me,� 
Annette said.  She smiled at him, but waited to pour his tea until Chip had 
managed to stuff himself back into his suit.
         �Thank you, Chip,� Annette said.
         �Mmmm, good tea,� Dave said, pouring some into his mouth.  Annette 
had added some brandy to it to give it more kick.  He looked at Chip.  �How 
many lashes on her bottom do you think she should get for pouring hot oil 
into your swim trunks?�
         �A lot,� Chip answered, making Annette give a little shiver.  �I won�t 
defend her bottom again from her.�
         �Well what are you going to USE, dear?� Annette asked.  �I mean it is 
cool down here but I don�t really need my bottom warmed too much.  
Especially if I�m busy sitting on it.�
         �I�ll let Chip decide,� Dave answered.  �He looks merciful.�
         Chip sipped his tea and considered.  He�d read about girls getting 
whipped, in Penthouse of course, but he�d never actually seen such a thing.  
Of course in the Army guys were always boasting that they�d whipped 
their girlfriend but he suspected it was mostly bravado.
         �Do you really want your ass whipped?� Chip asked Annette.
         �Of course not,� she answered primly, sipping her tea.  She hadn�t 
added the brandy just for the benefit of the men.  She guessed she might 
need it herself.  �But I have a husband who likes seeing it done.  I guess it 
comes with the territory.�  She glanced at her husband.  �I wish you�d told 
me about all your perversions before we got married!�
         Dave poured himself another cup of brandied tea and swallowed it 
down.  �Till death do us part, my dear.  Don�t complain,� he replied.  
�Anyway you need to be whipped to prepare you for the pain of childbirth.�
         �That�s what he keeps saying,� Annette confided to Chip.  The little 
blonde was shaking quite visibly now.  Chip reached out and steadied her 
teacup for her.  �Thanks,� she said.  She tilted it while Chip held it and 
sipped from it.
         �Get up!  Both of you,� Dave said with a menacing snarl.  Annette 
jumped up.  She nearly spilled the tea but Chip managed to steady the cup 
and put it down on the table.
         �Such a lovely white ass,� Dave said, walking behind his wife.  �How 
many weeks has it been since I�ve given it a good licking?�
         �Since you went away, dear,� Annette said.  She stood like a small 
little bunny before him, facing Chip, with her shoulders hunched and her 
face looking frightened.  Dave lifted up the back of her frill on her teddy, 
though he need not have, to admire her fanny.  Her cheeks bulged out at 
him, white and shaking a little, threaded by the thong that was tied off at 
her waist with a big pink satin bow.
         �Turn around,� Dave said to his wife.  Then he looked at Chip.  He 
nodded.  �Come,� he said.  Chip walked over to Annette and the two men 
stared down at her.  �Undo her ties and free her breasts.  Suck on them.  I 
want to put clamps on them.�
         �Daaaave!� Annette cried.
         �Behave yourself,� Dave replied.
         �But those clamps HURT!� Annette squealed.  Chip undid her ties.  He 
worked gently, as if he were undoing the threads that bound up jewels.  
Suddenly first one, than the other of Annette�s breasts popped from her 
teddy.  Delicately as Lancelot with his Guinivere, Chip bent and sucked at 
the tips of her teats.  First he wet just the tip with his tongue.  It felt 
rough to Annette and she shivered right down to her tailbone.  Her husband 
stood behind her, admiring her precocious bottom.  Then Chip swirled his 
tongue around each of Annette�s nipples and finally, at her husband�s 
urging, after he�d sucked with ever more pressure on them, he bit them.
         �Oh!� Annette yelped.  First one, then the other of her tensely erect 
nipples was bitten and stretched.  When Chip let go, Dave was ready with 
the clamps.  For a moment, her breasts wet at their tips with Chip�s 
saliva, Annette watched unmolested as Dave sprang open the clamps and 
then slowly fitted them to each of her teats.  Then, slowly releasing the 
jaws, he closed them over her sensitive tips.
         �Oh!  Ouch!� Annette squealed.  Dave laughed.  He tugged at the 
clamps to make sure they were on.  Annette, recovering herself a little, 
though there were tears in her eyes now, watched as her husband, and then 
Chip, simply curious, drew upon her breasts with their fingers by pulling 
on the tit-seizing clamps.
         �Tit torture,� Dave said.  �The easiest of the tortures she�ll face 
tonight, I assure you.�  Annette looked meekly down at her bosoms, then at 
both men.  A strand of hair had slipped from her chignon and trailed down 
over one of her eyes.  Chip reached up and gently brushed it aside.  At the 
same time, quite absent-mindedly, he reached for his groin.  He squeezed 
his own dick.  Dave, noticing, reached over and pulled down the front of his 
swimsuit for him.
         �Get it off,� Dave said to Chip.  �Tea time is over.  You�ve got serious 
work ahead of you.�
         �Thank God!� Chip crowed.  He thrust the swim-thong down his legs 
and happily tore it from his ankles.  He chucked it across the room and 
hoped he�d never see it again.
         �Not so fast,� Dave said.  He drew his wife�s hands behind her back 
and locked the cuff that had been dangling from her right wrist to her 
other arm.  �You were pretty handy with your tongue.  Let�s see you use it 
on her pussy.  She needs to be aroused first.�
         Untying the big satin bow at the back of his wife�s waist, Dave drew 
the thong between her ass crack and her pussy lips down until it popped 
free of her snug labia lips.  Chip knelt, eager for any action with such a 
luscious babe.  As he nudged Annette�s dangling crotch thong aside he 
noticed it was plenty moist.  But he dove into her anyway, using his 
tongue, reaching up and seizing her hips and drawing them forward.           
Annette let out a new squeal as she felt her cove invaded by Chip�s 
exploring tongue.  Despite being a wife she was very tight.  She was only 
20 and her cunt squeezed on his tongue as he stabbed it into her core.  Chip 
tasted honey.  He pushed deeper.  Annette, balanced precariously within 
the gripping of his palms on her hips, moaned and let herself sink onto his 
tongue.  But her snatch kept anxiously trying to close on him, and deeper 
within she squeezed herself on his tongue in an effort to force him out.  
Chip was only inspired to greater effort by such girlish misgivings.
         �Ooooh!  Oh!  No!  Oh, yes!  No!  Ohhhhh!� Annette squealed and moaned 
and pleaded all at once.  Chip, painfully desperate to get his cock inside 
her, nonetheless used just his tongue, as Dave had commanded.  Dave, 
meanwhile, passed the whip he possessed back and forth over the 
squeezing frightened cheeks of Annette�s ass.  They were just little 
swishes, letting her know what was ahead for her.  He held her as he 
swished the whip lightly across her behind.  It left no marks on her lily-
white bottom.  But Annette, trembling and holding her cheeks in as best 
she could, even as she was opened between her legs by Chip, knew many 
marks would be imprinted on little round behind before morning, and not 
just by the big bullwhip.  There was an endless supply of flagellation 
devices in their basement.  Her husband was fascinated by the marks all of 
them made.  And he was fresh, just back from his trip abroad, to Saudi 
Arabia, where he�d had neither booze nor women.
         �I-I hate to break up such a cool scene,� Chip said finally, lifting his 
face from the snatch of a swooning Annette.  �But is there a restroom 
down here?  I have to pee something awful.�
         Annette, her eyes glazed, placed her hand on his tousled locks and 
absently mussed his hair.  She�d been drawing him closer to her as he 
delved deeper and deeper, pulling on the hair on his head, his ears, 
anything handy, even catching at his tongue when he pulled back for air.
         �Yesss,� she said.  �Let me see you pee.  I want to see your big penis 
pee.�  Dave slapped her bottom lightly.  Chip rose up, his penis rising with 
him.
         �Get a cup,� Dave said to Annette.  �We pee into cups down here,� he 
said to Chip.  Annette, a little dazed, walking funny, wandered over to a 
table where she�d gotten the hot oil.  She opened a drawer and took out 
two cups.  She came back to the men, her breasts jutting temptingly from 
her teddy, clamped off at the nipples to keep her modest.  Between her 
legs her teddy was untied but the thong and the part that covered her pubis 
dangled down, showing her pussy only in glimpses, except that even when 
it was covered the fabric was still see-through.
         �Okay, boys.  Pee!� Annette, a little recovered now from her ordeal 
on Chip�s tongue, commanded.  Both men shoved their penises at her.  She 
carefully placed a cup under each.  �No peeing on me, guys.  Seriously,� she 
said.  �I don�t want to have to go take a shower.  Especially since someone 
will probably blame me for the whole thing and give me more stripes for 
it,� she said.  She cast a rueful glance at her husband.
         �Last time me and some guy pissed all over her,� Dave chuckled.
         Chip could barely hold back his sperm, thanks to all the alluring 
conversation, as he pointed his dick into the cup Annette held.  With some 
effort he managed just to pee without shooting his load into her cup too.  
It was a lucky thing.  He filled the cup right to the brim and a cumshot 
would have made a mess of pee and wasted cum on the floor.
         When both men had relieved themselves Annette took the cups away.
         �Try not to drip on the floor, guys,� she reminded them.  Dave and 
Chip cast rather awkward glances at each other.  Annette had waited a 
moment to catch any drips but, nonetheless, Chip felt a drip and he saw 
Dave drip too, after the cups were gone.
         �No matter how you shake and dance, the last two drops fall in your 
pants,� Chip grinned.
         �Even if you�re not wearing any,� Dave replied, gazing at Chip�s 
penis.
         �Or stupid ones,� Chip replied, gazing at Dave�s pants with their 
zipperless fly.
         �Zorro wore these pants,� Dave answered.  �They had no zipper at all 
until he got into a swordfight.�
         �Comparing penises, boys?� Annette asked.  She sashayed back to 
them, having stashed the full urine cups in a corner.  �I think Chip�s a tad 
bigger, Dave, if you ask me.�
         �I didn�t,� Dave replied.
         Annette lovingly clasped each male�s penis.  Her hands were small 
and feminine and she had trouble gripping such big shafts, but she did her 
best, stroking them a little as she got her hands around them.
         �God I have to cum!� Chip confided, generally to Annette but with 
Dave listening in.
         �So does he, Chip,� Annette said of her husband.  �But you must learn 
control.�
         �I AM controlling myself!� Chip cried.  �Sheesh!�
         �Could I stand here and rub you for 20 minutes?  I�d love to.  You�re 
so big and hard!� Annette said.  
         �No, and not for 20 seconds either,� Chip said.  He attempted to draw 
back from her hand but her loving caress gripped him quite suddenly, big 
as he was, and held him.
         �I know you need to shoot, Chip,� Annette said sweetly.  �But I have 
plans for such a big penis as yours.  Even if it costs me my bottom.�  She 
cast a quick glance at her husband.  �As I see it, if I squirt whipped cream 
all over your dick, then you can maybe get away with cumming without me 
noticing, while my husband has his way with me.  What do you think of 
that?� she asked Chip.
         �Just the thought of you doing that to me almost makes me spurt,� 
Chip answered honestly.
         �Then come, both of you,� Annette smiled.  �You have such rude big 
penises.  Maybe a little whipped cream will make them a bit more 
presentable.  After all, Ginger may want to come over and play with us.�
         �What?� Dave cried, even as Annette led both men to the table where 
the hot oil was kept.  She pulled them both by their penises.  �You told the 
neighbor girl about our sex life?�
         �She visits me, dear, and she kept wondering why I had such trouble 
sitting down on certain days.  You�re the one who whipped me.  How can I 
keep such a thing a secret when I can�t sit down in my own home?�  
Annette stopped both men in front of the table.  Then, bending down and 
showing them her bottom, she reached into a small refrigerator next to 
the table.  She took out a can of Redi-Wip.  She shook it, smiling and 
eyeing the penises the men presented to her.  
         SQUIIIIRT!  Chip felt a sudden coldness as Annette squirted a trail of 
cream onto his dick.  She began at the head, where his pee hole was, 
perhaps to stop any dripping, and continued back to where the hair of his 
groin obscured the root of his penis.  Chip had to grind his teeth to avoid 
coming within such a chilly, yet gently encompassing bath of cream.  When 
his dick had been coated Annette turned to her husband.  Chip watched 
Dave grit his own teeth as the lovely little blonde belle lathered him up.  
When she was done she replaced the cream, just as if she�d been at any 
party, using the cream for any ordinary purpose.
         Annette wiped the stray bit of cream on her hands away by licking 
them clean with her tongue.  Just as she was finishing both men heard a 
sound upstairs.  They listened.  Their penises quivered, all white within 
their cloud-like wet coating.  There was a key inserted into the lock of the 
door above and then, creeping down as if afraid to get caught, came small-
sounding footsteps.  Suddenly, peeking out from the steps and 
simultaneously emitting a shriek, was the head of a 12-year-old girl.  She 
wore pink bows in her hair, giving her pigtails.  The bows matched the 
color of the bows on Annette�s teddy.
         After a moment, perhaps gathering her courage, the brave young girl 
stepped farther down the steps.  She was revealed to be wearing nothing 
at all, saving her tennis shoes and her rolled-down pink socks.  Yet she 
held an umbrella in her hand.
         �It was raining outside,� the girl confessed.
         �You mean you came over here in the nude?� Dave bellowed.
         �Well I didn�t want to get my clothes wet,� the girl replied.  
�Anyways, Mr. Dobson, your wife said you have sex down here naked, so I 
figured....�
         �Good God!� Dave said.  He seemed to tremble, as if visions of police 
sirens were already wailing inside his head.  Chip, on the other hand, being 
only 21, and just out of the Army, felt more like a kid, and the 12-year-
old had perfect budding breasts just like his kid sister�s friends all had 
when he joined up with the military.  Now that he was back home they all 
wanted to date him.  They were 16 instead of 12, and their promising 
breasts had blossomed into tits almost as big and lovely as Annette�s.
         Ginger saw Chip looking at her breasts.  �I still have some growing 
to do,� she admitted.  She glanced down at her tits.  They were pointy but 
had a swelling fullness to them, nonetheless.  They stuck up very pertly, 
as if raising themselves to get some coach�s attention.  Chip remembered 
he�d volunteered to coach at Ginger�s junior high.  Perhaps she was 
growing her breasts just for him.
         �Why do you have clamps on your breasts, Annette?� Ginger asked 
her older friend meekly.
         �Well, because, my husband insisted,� Annette answered.  Looking at 
her husband, she implored, �My nipples are really starting to hurt.�  
Suavely he reached out and drew the clips off her, one by one.
         �They hurt most when the come off, and the blood rushes back in,� he 
said, with a sly glance at Ginger.  Annette howled.  She clasped her 
breasts but, as soon as the clips had been removed, Chip lunged at her 
teats and sucked them solicitously.  He loved her big bosoms and he loved 
even more any chance that presented itself to suck them.  As Ginger 
watched, twirling her umbrella, Dave took Annette�s other breast.  The 
men suckled at Annette�s teats like hungry newborns.  Ginger placed a hand 
on first one of her nipples, then the other.  She teased the stiff teats, 
excited.  Then she placed her hand on her belly and, after dipping a finger 
absently in her navel, she dropped her hand between her legs and massaged 
her small slit.
         �We�re corrupting her,� Dave said aloud to his wife when he finally 
took his mouth from her hurting nipple.  He looked at Ginger.  Quietly, still 
standing on the basement steps, holding her dripping umbrella over her 
head, she fingered her spot and her slit.
         �I�m okay,� Ginger said.  �Can I lick you clean?�  She smiled.  Dave 
looked down at himself.  
         �Um, yeah, I guess,� Dave answered.  Then muttered:  �I�ll pay in Hell 
for this.�
         Ginger danced over to Dave.  Then she neatly set down her umbrella 
next to him.  Finally, she dropped her to her knees.  Annette, taking a cue 
from the precocious young girl, dropped to her knees in front of Chip.
         �I thought the cream was to keep us--� Chip protested.  But as he 
felt Annette�s petal-soft mouth close over his cockhead he lost the desire 
to speak the word �modest.�  A warm licking sensation came to his 
purplish knob.  He urged himself forward into Annette�s mouth.
         �I�ll have to spank you for this,� Dave warned Ginger.
         �I don�t mind,� the girl replied.  She licked at his big sausage-like 
cock as if it were a new lollipop.
         �I--� Chip began.  He wanted to pull Annette off himself, to preserve 
his seed for his cunny.  But as she continued to clean him he instead forced 
himself more eagerly into her face.  He stabbed at her cheeks and even 
poked at her eyes and, when she drew him within her mouth, he tried for 
the back of her throat.  Dave seemed to suffer from the same perplexity, 
not sure whether to encourage Ginger�s efforts or resist them.
         �You�re getting a faceful,� Dave said at last.  The child�s hands 
clasped his manhood and Ginger looked up at him wide-eyed.  Suddenly he 
spurted onto her face and she shrieked.  She tried to stop him, putting a 
finger over his pee slit.  But he was too powerful for her and the big white 
jets of sperm spurted from him like a geyser.  Chip, meanwhile, was 
already inside Annette�s mouth at this moment.  Seeing Dave cum, he could 
no longer control himself.  He shot lustily into the mouth of Dave�s wife.  
He tried to stab himself down her throat and Annette, choking, had to fight 
to keep him from going to deep.  As he watched the lovely Ginger sprayed 
all over her face with Dave�s seed, he gave Dave�s wife a present of his 
own lusty sperm.  Both girls shrieked (Annette gagging a little as she 
shrieked.)  At last both men were done and they pulled back.  The females, 
still on their knees, gazed first at their white-soaked hands and fingers 
and then at each other.
         �Lick her clean,� Dave said to his wife.  �I don�t want my sperm 
wasted.�
         Annette stood.  She took Ginger�s hand.  Instictively Ginger stood up 
when she saw Annette stand.  Annette took Ginger, the girl�s face coated 
with semen, over to the pile of pillows.  Gently she laid the pig-tailed girl 
down in the pillows and then she dropped down beside her.  Fingering the 
young girl�s developing teats and stiff nipples, Annette began licking 
Dave�s sperm off her face.  Ginger was compliant.  When she got a chance 
she extended her own tongue and licked Chip�s sperm off Annette�s face.  
         �Now we must both be punished for making them cum,� Annette said 
to Ginger when they were finished.  She rose and pulled Ginger up with her.  
The girl was more hesitant now.  She led Ginger over to where Chip and 
Dave sat on a wooden bench.  The men were relaxing, drinking beers.
         �Don�t get any splinters in your asses,� Annette said.
         �I lacquered this bench yesterday,� Dave replied.  Then he put down 
his beer and got up.  He took Ginger�s hand.  He drew her close and kissed 
her face.  She clung to him as he kissed her.  Her bottom wiggled.  Annette 
stood behind her.  She caressed the girl�s fanny.  Then, quite 
unceremoniously, Dave put Ginger over his knee.  He raised his big 
calloused palm and brought it smartly down on her childish bottom.
         �Oh, noooo!� Ginger cried out.  But she only kicked her legs and didn�t 
fight too hard to get up.  Chip flinched, watching her get spanked.  He knew 
Dave had big hands and he was spanking her quite hard and deliberately.  
Yet the girl, despite breaking instantly into tears, did not try to bite at 
Dave or scratch him, as some other girl her age almost certainly might 
have done.  Perhaps it was the already swelling penis between Dave�s legs 
that rose as he spanked her and bumped against her soft belly.  Something 
kept her from fighting with all her strength.  Annette, proud of the girl, 
though she knew her bottom was next and would suffer worse, knelt down 
beside her and kissed her.  Dave kept on spanking her.  Annette kissed her 
nose and her cheeks and her gasping mouth.  Chip, unable to restrain 
himself, and finding himself newly erect, shifted himself on the bench and 
then got off of it and knelt before the girl, low and close to her mouth.  He 
stuck his rising penis into her mouth like a pacifier.  Annette leaned back 
to let him in.  She scolded him but didn�t stop him.  Ginger looked like a 
baby caught by surprise.  Her cheeks swelled over his intruding dick and 
her eyes popped open wide.  Then, accomodating herself to it somehow, 
despite the hand that kept slapping her bottom, she began to suck.
         Chip, who thought he�d be out of commission for at least 20 minutes, 
found himself spurting in no time into the pigtailed girl�s mouth.  He was 
quite unable to resist the luring sucking of her childish lips.  He let 
himself relax and he enjoyed the full measure of her suckling, not fighting 
it, simply accepting his discharge and hoping, somehow, he�d find the 
strength to rise yet again afterward.  Annette, impressed, caressed his 
bare ass and toyed with the butt plug in his anus.  She twisted it about, 
and when Chip came she pulled it out of his clenching buttocks (as soon as 
his steel buns relaxed a little).  
         �Very good, Chip,� she teased.  �I�m glad you�re not afraid of a little 
girl�s mouth.�
         �No,� Chip grunted.  
         �Is she still a virgin?� Dave asked, lifting his hand to spank the girl 
yet again.�
         �Of course, dear,� Annette grinned.
         �Well, I�m hard,� Dave replied.
         �Only Chip may, if anyone does,� Annette said.
         �Damn.  I thought you�d say that,� Dave answered, and he brought his 
hand down very hard on poor Ginger�s bottom.  The girl, stuffed full in her 
mouth with Chip, yelped and accidentally bit him.  Chip howled but kept 
himself inside her clenching mouth.  He discharged the last of his seed.
         �God damn, what a pretty face she has,� he said, gazing down at her 
puffy childish cheeks.  They swelled even more fully as he flooded her 
mouth with his seed.  Ginger choked on the discharge.  He drew himself 
out, still spurting a little, to give her air.  Some of his cum shot up and hit 
her on the tip of her nose.  Immediately Annette took his place.  She licked 
at the girl�s face and within her mouth.  Dave began to spank her more 
lightly.  Chip looked at the girl�s bottom.  It was beet red.  Her thin white 
legs kicked, her balled fists struggled, but she let Annette lick in her 
mouth and even managed to return a few kisses and licks.
         �Whoa, this is amazing,� Chip said.  He stroked his dick and hoped it 
would rise again.  Ginger�s bottom would be a fantastic place to put 
himself if he got hard again, he speculated, and it would preserve her 
virginity.  Eagerly he stroked himself more quickly.  He wasn�t sure he 
could get himself in her, but if he did he knew her very warm little bottom 
would be the best place he�d ever been.
         The poor child, still an innocent when she�d first set foot into the 
basement half an hour before, at most a graduate of games of Post Office, 
now lay heaving over Dave�s knee.  Her small upturned bottom bore the 
marks of his big brutal hand.  Sperm dribbled from her lips where Chip, 
quite ingraciously, had chosen to discharge himself into her little mouth.  
Her childish lips, too young for lipstick, now bore a creamy white 
moustache.  Dave settled his hand on Ginger�s bottom.  She shrank from it, 
fearing another blow.  Instead he rubbed her anxious bottom a little, as if 
polishing it.  
         �Ooooh, don�t-t-t!� Ginger pleaded.  Even the lightest touch sent 
spasms of pain through her now.  She shivered as Dave lifted his hand.  For 
a moment he contemplated striking her again, to show her he ruled here, in 
this basement of his castle-home.  No doubt if she�d been older he would 
have hit her again.  But in deference to her tender years, he settled his 
hand on her thighs.  Her reprieve did not last long.  In substitution for 
striking her he instead began prying between her legs into her virgin cunt.
         �Don�t tear her hymen!� Annette warned her husband.
         �I just want to feel it, that�s all,� Dave replied.  �I�ve never actually 
felt a hymen.  I mean, you know, in junior high I felt some with the head of 
my cock, breaking through them.  But I never actually felt one up with my 
finger.�
         �Ooooh!  Please!� Ginger spluttered.  Dave dug deeper into her 
clenching core and seemed to find what he sought.  
         �Yes,� he breathed aloud in a husky voice.  �There it is.  Hmmmm, 
would you like to be devirginated, Ginger?�
         �Oh, noooo, not till I�m married!� Ginger sighed.  Her breasts hung 
naked underneath her and a tremulous sigh sent them shivering like young 
fruit on a tree in the winds of early March.  April dew sprinkled itself on 
the tips of Dave�s fingers.
         �Her bottom must be attended to,� Annette said.  Perhaps she spoke 
up to save the girl.  A man with an erection couldn�t be trusted with a 12-
year-old over his knee.  Ginger, after first squeezing her thighs together, 
and making much ado about her hymen, now scissored them wide apart.  
Chip remembered being given swimming lessons with toddler girls when 
he was six.  Afraid of the pool, they would lie prone on towels beside it 
and practise their strokes.  The coach would watch, correct.  Now Ginger, a 
novitiate at love, seemed to emulate the same approach.  She straightened 
her legs, let her toes sink to the floor.  She arched her bottom a little.  
She drew her hands back against Dave�s thigh.  
         �Ooooh.  No!� Ginger whimpered.  Yet, clutching at Dave�s big thigh, 
she stuck up her bottom at him.  With her toes pressed against the floor 
for purchase, her sudden movement had the effect of forcing his exploring 
fingers deeper into her.
         �Careful, girl!� Dave gasped.  He seemed suddenly afraid.  �I think I 
might have stretched her hymen a little,� he confessed to his wife.  
         �Oh!  Oh!  Oh!� Ginger cried.  They were gaspy cries, tentative, 
searching.  Like a child pressed up against some new exotic boundary she 
bucked her hips again and again, shoving her apple-round ass into the air 
and making Dave�s fingers press hard against her hymen.  Gallantly he kept 
his fingers stiff within her cunt and did not jab at her but rather let her 
bang herself against him.  He was intrigued.  Chip was intrigued.  Annette 
tutted but did not interfere.  The girl had paid the price, letting her 
bottom be smacked beet-red.  Let her play now, test her limits.  The tissue 
membrane of her hymen suffered under the intrusive test, yet held; Ginger 
was playing still, not quite able to break it.  She dared, Dave held his 
finger tight within her letting her.  He felt her honeyed juices lubricate 
his digits.  He rubbed his stiff erection on her flat soft child�s belly and 
longed to make her bear a baby for him.  His pre-cum stained her satin 
skin.
         �Enough!� Annette said suddenly.  �Bad girl!� She gave Ginger a slap 
upon her tushy.  
         �Ouch!� Ginger yelped.
         �Get up, sweetie, it�s your bedtime,� Annette scolded.  She drew the 
girl off her husband�s lap.  Ginger balled her hands into fists and beat 
lightly upon Annette�s breast.  She did not want to leave her male 
tormenter.  Dave sat back, sighed.  His cock, freed from the weight of her 
belly, rose up stiffly from between his thighs and stood like an obscene 
flagpole.  
         At a nod from Annette Chip strode forward and received the girl.  
Ginger�s fisticuffs receeded as she felt herself dropped into Chip�s 
muscled arms.  Instead of Ginger�s soft loving breasts his steel-hard 
chest pressed against her.  She seemed to prefer it.
         �Up we go,� Chip announced.  He caught Ginger�s legs up and held her 
aloft like a captured princess.  Then, his own cock dangling between his 
legs most enticingly, if momentarily spent, yet still tumescent, he 
marched to the stairs.  He mounted them with Ginger clasping to his neck, 
her bare arms looped about it, her face pressed to his shoulder and her 
mouth emitting little sighs.  Her legs kicked a little, then hung quiet.  Her 
bottom bulbed beneath her, all red and rosy.  Between her thighs she was 
tight and virginal as ever but wet, honey-wet, and her trembling breaths 
invited what she could not bring her mouth to ask for.
         Annette followed.  She was oddly dressed for a chaperone, but she 
feared for little Ginger�s hymen, even in the arms of a man who was 
momentarily unfit for duty.  She walked primly with her teddy undone 
between her legs, hanging down and fluttering behind her like some 
abbreviated wedding gown train.  Annette�s bosoms bounced on her chest 
like big round gourds ready to be sliced and bitten into.  Thanksgiving-
gourds, each a feast in itself.  Her nipples, despite the earlier pain of the 
clamps, stuck up nude and excited, stems of pleasure.  She knew her 
husband was planning to pierce them soon and each time they played she 
wondered if tonight would be the night they were forever altered.  At the 
same time, with her bottom wobbling full and moony behind her, brazen in 
its nudity, she knew she was only minutes away from a strapping.  Going 
upstairs wouldn�t be an escape for her, only a respite.  She cast a sidelong 
glance back at her husband when she heard him clear his throat and, sure 
enough, he was looking directly at her.
         �You�ll pay for involving such a young girl in our games,� he said to 
her in a hard, uncompromising voice.  She knew he hated pedophiles and 
vowed to kill them every time he saw one on T.V.
         �Yes, dear, I know,� Annette said sheepishly.  �But don�t tell me you 
didn�t enjoy giving her a spanking.�
         �I was trying to discipline her for being such a little tart!� he said.
         �Oh, pardon me.  I guess I didn�t see the hard-on you got doing it.  Try 
not to jerk off while I�m upstairs, dear.�
         �Fuck you,� Dave growled.
         �Yes, please do.  I�d hate to cum back downstairs and find you�ve 
spilled yourself on the floor.�  Annette replied.  Then, giving him a glare of 
her own, she tossed her half-undone chignon and proceeded up the steps.  
Each time she lifted a foot her assets gave another jiggly display.  Her 
husband was a passionate man and she hoped he kept his passion in his 
penis.  Once he�d struck her face, bruising her.  She hadn�t liked that.  At 
the top of the steps, to reassure him of her love, she turned around and 
blew him a kiss.
         Dave sat disconsolately on the bench.  He felt like following his 
wife, and Chip, and yet he had somehow been left behind, as if he wasn�t 
needed, wasn�t wanted.  He heard the door to the basement close yet noted 
that his wife didn�t lock it.  He could join them if he wished.  Perhaps she 
hoped he�d stumble onto them all making love, without his permission.  
That was adultery, wasn�t it?  He could shoot Chip then, dispose of the 
young interloper once and for all.  But what about Ginger?  She 
complicated things.  A man could always shoot another man for loving his 
wife, especially in his own bed, and keep his wife quiet about how the 
tryst began.  But Ginger would tattle and tell all:  �He paddled me and he 
finger-fucked my hymen,� she�d prattle to her friends at school.  
         Dave got up with disgust.  Chip was safe with Ginger present.  He 
couldn�t shoot both of them.  12-year-old girls didn�t seduce a man�s wife, 
even if they did visit in the nude.  He spit on the floor and cared not that 
Annette would scold him for it when she saw his lugey.  He felt 
compromised.  He should be the ruler of his house, even with another man 
in it; but with Ginger in it, her bottom red and his own hand sore from 
paddling her, he had no options.  He had to tolerate Chip and he had to beg 
her not to tell.  Forever after when he saw her on the sidewalk and she 
whispered to her friends he�d worry.  And she�d give him a little smirking 
smile.  He knew that smile of hers.  She�d been giving it to him ever since 
she moved next door at the age of eight.  He�d be out back chopping wood, 
doing honest Man�s work, minding his own business, and little Ginger 
would come visiting.  Of course it was all so Pure, so highminded, little 
Ginger visiting his wife, asking for sugar for her tea party.  But somehow, 
despite the sugar being in the kitchen, little Ginger would wind up in the 
back yard.  And she�d insist on climbing up in the wood pile so that Dave, 
in bringing down the axe, bending over, would get a glimpse of her white-
pantied bottom or her puss as she stood atop the logs.
         �Mr. Dobson, why do you have wood?� Ginger would ask him, 
interrupting his work, her finger perched within her open rosebud lips.
         �Winter�s coming,� he�d grunt in reply.
         �Oh, not THAT kind of wood, Mr. Dobson.  The other kind, the kind 
Beavis and Butthead have.  Why do you have THAT kind of wood?� Ginger 
would ask.  And her voice would be high and childlike and innocent, yet 
when he looked up and met her eyes she�d smirk at him.
         �All men have wood,� he�d grunt.  And of course, being a child, like 
any two-year-old, she was entitled to ask follow-ups.
         �But WHY, Mr. Dobson?  I don�t have any wood between my legs.  I sit 
down when I pee.  But I hear boys stand up when they do it, and they pee all 
over the seat.  Sometimes my big brother pees on the seat and then I have 
to wipe it before I can sit down on it.�
         �I hear your mother calling,� Dave would answer.  And, leaping down, 
believing him, feeling a little guilty perhaps, Ginger would run home.  But 
after awhile that trick didn�t work anymore, and Ginger had learned a trick 
of her own.  She�d get atop the wood pile and then bend over to inspect the 
clover that wedged itself between the pile and the backyard fence.
         �I�m sure there�s a four-leaf clover down there SOMEWHERE!� she�d 
declare.  Her dress, too short, would lift right up and show all her bottom, 
and her panties were smaller, too small, wedging deep into her little 
crack and showing the lovely swell of her seat-cheeks where they bulged 
out, whiter even than her panties.  Her legs were always deep brown from 
swimming.  She�d swim in her pool from early spring until late autumn, 
when the cold finally drove her from the water.  Her mother called her the 
�pool-nymph,� but to Dave she was a wood-nymph, standing high upon the 
logs and bending down to inspect the budding clover.  �I feel lucky today.  
Don�t you feel lucky, Mr. Dobson?� Ginger would ask innocently.  And the 
most embarrassing thing about it for him, staring at her small uncovered 
ass, was that he KNEW she knew she wasn�t asking him about the clover.
         One day he told her a bee had landed on her bottom.  He was going to 
reach out and pinch her naughty little ass, but she was too quick, leaping 
from the wood pile and darting back inside his house.  Later when she 
returned he told her he�d taken up bee-keeping, and she was too sweet for 
visiting him in his back yard, that the bees would sting her, though they 
left him alone.  She believed it for awhile.  But one day he found her out 
back with a whole troop of little girls.  They were wearing empty gunny 
sacks over their heads.  Being small girls, still prepubescent, the sacks 
covered them down to their waists.  Apparently the girls thought this 
sufficient, for they were boldly marching about the yard, spraying bug 
spray whenever they thought they saw a bee.  Dave had to laugh at the 
sight of the little girls prancing and dancing about, their short skirts 
flapping, their fannies as vulnerable as ever, but feeling quite safe, and 
being quite safe, for he did not keep bees in his back yard.  At last, puffing 
with proud gasps, the girls marched into his house.
         �All the bees have been vam-ooosed, Mr. Dobson!� Ginger told him as 
he sat drinking a beer at his kitchen table.  She still wore burlap over her 
head, despite being inside his house.
         Dave glanced out the backyard window.  �I don�t see any dead bees on 
my lawn,� he mused.
         �We didn�t want to kill them!� Ginger said.  �We just scared them.  
But they won�t come back!  They were scared of us and all our bug spray.�
         Dave nodded, drank another draught of beer.
         �Now you have to pay us, Mr. Dobson!� Ginger told him.  She extended 
her little palm and held it before him, expectantly.  Finally, when he made 
it quite clear he was just going to enjoy his beer, despite all her valiant 
efforts on his behalf, she added:  �but you can let us sip some of your beer 
if you don�t have any money.�
         �Scram!  Vamoose your SELF!� he�d yelled at her.  He wished he could 
yell that now, he mused, uncapping a new beer.  Blue Boar Pale Ale.  He 
ought to take her up on her offer now, and send her home so drunk she 
didn�t remember anything.  
         �She deserved that spanking,� Dave said aloud to himself.  And she 
had.  But it wouldn�t help any.  �Yes, your honor, I paddled her because she 
used to stand on top of my wood pile and look at my clover.�  That would be 
his winning argument.  He�d rest his case with that.
         Ginger, meanwhile, lay in Dave�s bedroom on his bed.  She was 
flopped on her tummy.  Her face was buried in the big pillow Dave 
sometimes put under his wife�s belly to arch up her hips for him so he 
could sink more deeply into her glorious backside.  Ginger coughed.  Little 
mewing sounds escaped her throat as Annette, solicitious of her bottom, 
uncorked a stoppered bottle and soothed oil over her seat.  It was a chilly 
oil.  It made Ginger�s flaming bottom hurt a little less.
         �Mmmm, that was quite a spanking my husband gave you, wasn�t it?� 
Annette asked the girl.
         �Yeth it hurt,� Ginger breathed.  Despite the sensitivity of her seat 
she arched it up a little.  Lying on her other side, opposite Annette, Dave 
sported a new erection.  It bumped sideways against the small of her back, 
like some overgrown cucumber, when Ginger drew in her knees and pushed 
her ass up.  Had she known it was there, hovering above her little waist?  
Now she did, if she hadn�t before.  She sighed and seemed to accept its 
presence.  She wiggled her bottom a little and made Chip�s penis saw 
across her delving waist.    
         Annette smiled at Chip.  He lay like a nude Adonis across from her.  
Precum oozed from the tip of his excited penis and Ginger shrieked when 
she felt it drip onto the small of her back.  Yet, after shrinking down a 
little, she lofted her bottom higher.  She shoved Chip�s penis up with her 
and made it angle away from him like some cockeyed cock.
         Chip looked at Annette.  He had already cum several times this 
evening.  He had enough for one more emission, he guessed.  Without 
speaking, his eyes asked if Annette understood this.  She smiled, a little 
sheepishly?  She nodded.  She gave permission.  He still looked to her first.  
She was the reason he had come tonight, not some spoilt girl from next 
door who didn�t know what she wanted, and probably wouldn�t appreciate 
it when she got it.  
         Annette lifted her oil-drenched palm from Ginger�s bottom.  She 
stroked Chip�s erection lightly with her fingers, greasing it, leaving 
streaks of oil wherever her fingers smoothed across the big veined pestle 
of flesh.  Ginger, sensing something had been taken away from her, lofted 
her bottom a little higher.  She bumped against Chip�s penis again, making 
it angle so far to one side that he had to readjust his hips.  He rolled back 
a little onto his seat.  His penis stuck into the air, waved about, a flagpole 
without a flag.  Annette followed the movement of Chip�s cock and kept 
stroking it.  She leaned across Ginger�s small lovely bottom, pressed the 
girl�s seat back down a little with her free hand.  She kissed the head of 
Chip�s cock.  Ginger mewled with disappointment.  She was no longer the 
center of attention.  She wanted to be.
         With an impetuous jolt Ginger shoved her soft little ass upward.  Her 
seat bumped Annette with such force that it knocked Annette�s mouth off 
the tip of Chip�s cock, where she�d begun to suck at his pee hole.  
         Annette tossed her head.  Her chignon was almost completely undone 
now and her blonde hair kept getting in her eyes.
         �Bad girl!� Annette scolded.  She slapped Ginger�s bottom, but only 
lightly.  There was a remedy for a bumptious girl like Ginger.  
         Ginger squeaked at the slap but her bottom barely retreated from its 
arched-up position.  Instead she waved the bulbous seat around.  It was 
full and glossy and incredibly satiny soft and taut, the skin like stretched 
rubber across the surface of a ball.  Down the middle of her seat it was 
split, a lovely crack offering twin openings.
         Chip stared at the gyrating butterball of flesh.  How sweetly it was 
warmed, the white skin slapped to a hue of tomato red.  While her bottom 
was (formerly) white, flecks of white still showing here and there where 
Dave�s hand had failed to strike, her legs were golden.  Hours of playing in 
her backyard pool had tanned them to twin sticks of cinnamon.  Her back 
too, so thin and small, with her ribs sticking out and showing whenever 
she drew in a tremulous breath, was cinnamon-colored too, and above that, 
her arms, tense and drawn close to her body, her hands by her face, were 
suntanned.  Yet across the mid-point of her back, there was a single white 
line.  She wore her bra there, lying by her pool, but tonight her bra was 
forgotten at home, and her small lovely breasts were crushed beneath her 
as she stuck up her bottom at him.
         It was an invitation Chip couldn�t refuse.  With a final glance at 
Annette, letting her know he wouldn�t be able to service her this night, he 
stuck his knee between Ginger�s long legs.  They kicked at him.  He 
managed, nonetheless, to get the rest of himself between her, like a man 
moving heavy equipment to where it was needed to do the work it had been 
assigned.  His other leg joined the first.  The presence of his legs kept 
Ginger from closing hers.  His balls and cock hung suspended over her 
bottom.  
         �Get them apart,� he snarled.  He shoved at the girl�s thighs.  He 
wasn�t happy at losing his chance to fuck Annette.  Yet, with such a 
virginal bottom wiggling under him, offering, inviting, he felt compelled 
to fuck her. 
         Ginger�s lovely little seat shrank from him as she felt him position 
himself to mount her.  But she had noplace to go now, this teasing 
recalcitrant girl.  He was towering over her, his cock huge and pointing 
right at her, his balls slung up under his crotch, full with the last of his 
cum and ready to go.
         Chip grabbed Ginger�s extremely small waist and yanked her down a 
bit, closer to his waiting loins.  In the same motion he pulled her bottom 
back up high into the air again, lodging the head of his cock right in her 
buttcrack.
         �Yeek!  No!� Ginger cried.  And her voice was quite serious.  She�d 
have called 911 in that moment.  Chip widened the spread of his knees, 
kneeling upon the bed, and his knees in turn forced her long legs wider 
apart.  Barbie was about to get a present from Ken. 
         �Wait,� Annette said.  She touched twin fingers to Chip�s cock.  She 
held him back.  She tossed her golden-blonde hair and slipped from the bed.  
Chip watched her walk to a nightstand beside the bed.  Her luscious mature 
bottom rolled, invited.  Her crack was deeper, her cheeks fuller.  How he 
longed to plunge himself into her knowing seat, to ride such a luscious 
mare!  She would appreciate his every stroke, his every thrusting 
movement.  Yet instead, somehow, he�d become tasked with deflowering 
this anxious maiden.  She would buck and moan and complain, and 
afterward frown at him ruefully.  She would not appreciate, except in 
some disguised girlish way, sticking her tongue out at him, showing him 
her lollipop tongue in a gesture of childish defiance.  �You bested me,� her 
tongue would say, sticking out at him, �I teased you and resisted you but 
you bested me.  Now pray I don�t tell my daddy.�
         Annette returned with a small dog�s collar.  She regained the bed 
and, kneeling upon it, bent over Ginger�s face.  With expert hands she 
collared Ginger�s neck.  The girl, startled, twisted her neck about, puppy-
like, but Annette was too sure and too quick for her, and the collar was 
buckled securely around her.  
         Chip�s eyes darted to two straps laid down by Annette on the bed as 
she remounted it.  Beside them lay two sticks.  All had been brought from 
the nightstand.  He wondered at them.  What was their purpose?  Their 
presence excited him and he shafted his cock within the soft open crack of 
Ginger�s bottom.  The girl tried to yank her hips away, shocked, but he 
moved his big sausage-like prick back and forth between her squeezing 
seat-cheeks.  He was not fucking her, he was not inside her.  He was 
simply shafting his cock along her furrow, yet she resisted.  The oil 
Annette had so carefully spread all about and within Ginger�s seat now 
eased Chip�s passage.  He felt as if he were buttering his big cock, sliding 
it back and forth within Ginger�s oiled fanny.  
         �God this feels good,� Chip confessed.  He looked at Annette.  She 
reached back and took one of the straps she�d deposited on the bed, 
wrapped it around one of Ginger�s small wrists.  She smiled.  Ginger let 
out a cry of alarm but, conveniently, kept her hands pressed close to her 
face, unmoving.  She was like a rabbit caught between headlights, stone 
still, just her ass moving, in wiggling little resistance-movements.  The 
stirring and shifting and bouncing of her seat only served to heighten 
Chip�s excitement.  He sawed his cock within the clenching halves of her 
tushy more eagerly.  He was so big that he split her bottom apart to its 
widest extent just by laying his penis within her furrow.  She could not 
hold him within her split seat, instead she was opened by him, just the 
underside of his cock actually pressing down within her.  Yet it was 
enough for the two of them to each be innervated by the other.  He was as 
mesmerized by the moving ball of flesh beneath his cock as she was by the 
big sausage-like thing pressed down into the intimate furrow of her seat.  
And, through it all, tingling up to her tailbone even as it sent shudders 
through him, they both knew what lay ahead.  A contact this intimate 
would not simply abate.  It must be completed.  They must run their course 
together, joust upon the bed, and both lose, and gain from it.
         She would lose her hymen and be filled with his maleness, his seed.  
He would lose his cum but gain a notch on his belt, and her blood would 
anoint his cock.
         With grim efficiency, knowing she would share none of this, Annette 
closed a strap around Ginger�s remaining wrist.  Then she picked up the 
twin sticks and, attaching each at one end to Ginger�s collar, she attached 
each at its other end to one of Ginger�s wrists.  The effect was to bind 
Ginger�s wrists with the sticks.  They held her hands close to her face, 
while keeping them away from her neck, lest she undo the very collar that 
was the centerpiece.  Once locked in to the collar, the sticks were caught 
and held by it so that they could not move at all.  Not forward, or 
backward.
         Ginger lifted her neck.  At the back of her collar there was, sewn 
into the collar, a tube.  It was into this that the end of each stick fitted.  
The twin ends of the sticks, fitted into the back of her collar, felt like a 
yoke across the back of her neck.  She was an animal now, yoked and ready 
for the stud to inseminate.  She let out a cry of despair.  Her childhood 
was about to end.
         Chip raised himself slightly, drawing his cock from where it had 
settled so pleasantly between Ginger�s seat.  He repositioned himself.  He 
lifted her bottom up more, presented her cunt to his loins.  Then he 
stabbed his prick down within the folds of her pussy.  
         Despite the welling up of his seed, so urgent, so importuning, so 
eager to rush forth even now, though his penis-tip was just splitting the 
outer folds of her cunt, Chip hesitated.  A moment of circumspection 
washed over him.  She was but 12, he was 21.  He could spend the rest of 
his life in prison in the Land of the Free for what he was about to do.  Yet 
what man could resist such a sweet ball of flesh, so perfectly exposed and 
waiting?  Ginger bumped against him, lodging him a little deeper.  Had he 
done that, or had she?  Her sucking tightness enveloped half his cockhead 
now.  She was wet.  He was oiled.  His precum drooled, for a moment he 
became startled, fearing his seed was erupting.  But it was just a drooling 
pre-emission, wetting the way, anointing the passage.  
         Chip shoved himself deeper.  Ginger cried out.  He could feel her 
hymen now, his cockhead splitting her, a big walnut on a stick trapped 
within the clutching fig of her pussy.  
         Gazing down at his shaft, still nude, still free of her, only his 
cockhead trapped within her, Chip once again considered his options.  He 
was an adult, an ex-serviceman.  She was just a bored child, looking for 
something to do in the rain.  Had Roseanne been a rerun?  Had Gilligan�s 
Island failed to hold her interest?  Had the Nintendo game been in her 
brother�s bedroom, where she couldn�t play with it?
         �Aghggh!� Chip cried out.  She was bumping her tissued hymen 
against his pee-hole, stretching herself on his cockhead even as he held 
himself back.  Yet he knew, after he�d fucked her, she�d blame it all on him.  
She�d hold him responsible and, if she wished, she�d hold him accountable 
to the Law.  Yet he was male, a stemming, excited male, and she was being 
a very naughty girl and knew it and loved it and gave him another inviting 
little bump with her hymen, he lodged just inside her, she waiting so 
sweetly, yet so impatiently.
         �Please, let me go!� Ginger piped up.  Yet even as she spoke she gave 
him another little bump.  Her bottom was a ball that she used to knock him 
in his loins.  She was hitting him below the belt, and he loved it.
         He took command.  She screamed, feeling him draw her up, his hands 
clasped to her waist, holding her, lifting her even as he plunged himself 
down through her hymen and into the depths of her cunt.
         �Noooooo!� Ginger wailed.  With grim vengeance he speared her.  His 
huge cock split her virgin tube and lunged down into the private sanctuary 
of her womb.
         �OOOOOOOH!� Ginger shouted.  He knew she must feel like a stuck pig, 
and like a pig prancing its way to market she�d now gotten more than she 
bargained for.  The hatchet had fallen.  Her puss was virgin no more, and 
she was feeling, for the first time, just how big and huge and massive a 
male cock in her little 12-year-old body could be.
         Annette sat patting and stroking Ginger�s hair.  She had chestnut-
brown hair, streaked with gold from being out in the sun.  It was pulled 
tight into twin pigtails, tied with pink bows.  Chip wanted to reach 
forward and grab the collared, yoked girl by her pigtails and use them as 
leashes to ride her across the bedroom.  Instead, he used her hips.  He 
yanked her up by her waist even more, shoving her almost into a pretzel 
shape, her back half lofted up while her front half sloped down, her wrists 
caught by her collar and her legs kicking.  If her knees bumped her wrists 
she would be a pretzel, a human pretzel, and her lovely upturned bottom 
would be the violated base of the pretzel.  Yes, violated.  For just the 
thought of her little tormented body beneath him, all scrunched up and 
offering, showing him her most intimate parts and being impaled on him, 
sent Chip into a frenzy.  With hard, merciless strokes he began to shaft 
her.  He was a Mongol.  He was the Devil himself.  He would ride this little 
pony till she dropped with weariness and then he would cast her aside and 
go fuck Annette.  It was the woman he wanted, yet somehow he�d been 
tricked into spending himself in this little girl.  Well, she would pay for 
that.
         �No-oh-Boo!  Hoo!� Annette broke into tears.  Chip pounded her with 
his desperate loins.  He gave her no quarter, though she was quartered.  He 
drove his rock-solid cock deep into her precious soft squeezingly-tight 
little cunny.  Again and again he hammered her with his hardness.  He was 
a lightning bolt, streaking down explosively into the earth.  She received 
him.  She had no choice.  She began crying, yet Annette simply patted her 
head.  As the fucking continued Annette plucked at Ginger�s pigtail�s.  She 
unbound the girl�s hair.  She was a child no more.  She was a woman.
         �Unh!  Unh!  Unh!  Ohhhhh!� Chip grunted out his pleasure and, quite 
unexpectedly, cuming before he meant to, he gasped out a delicious sigh of 
relief.  He felt his testicles tighten.  The death grip.  The wonderful full 
sensation that flooded a man and stiffened his cock, just as he realized 
he�d passed his point of no return.  
         Chip savored the moment.  He sighed out a great marvelous sigh, 
tight within Ginger, so deliciously held by the depths of her small child�s 
body.  Then his seed rushed forth from his balls.  It shot down the 
enormous length of his cock.  It was quick as rain in a sudden mid-summer 
thunderstorm.  He flooded her.  He seeded her.  He spilled into the depths of 
her womb and prayed she�d taken a pill.
         Ginger�s hair flowed down over her back, covering her collar, 
Annette unbinding it from her pink bows.  Her wailing quieted, ceased.  She 
received him like a shocked child.  For a moment not a sound issued from 
her and then, breaking into a series of moans, she banged her bottom 
against his loins.  In response Chip began shafting her again, enjoying the 
hardness of his cock even as he spilled out the very essence that kept it 
hard.  In a minute he would be done, he would begin to soften inside her, 
but that moment was not yet here and he burrowed his still-hard strength 
within her.  She clenched and clutched at him with her virginal cunt.  He 
noticed his penis had turned red with the blood of her broken hymen.  He 
leaned forward, he collapsed upon her.  She squeaked as the heavy weight 
of his body came crushing down upon her.  His breath was hot and he 
shoved his face down beside hers and sought her tongue.  Ginger twisted 
her head, offered her lips.  Her tongue extended to meet his.  Together they 
thrashed upon the bed.  
         Annette rose.  She moved to Chip�s hips and slapped his bottom hard.  
Chip let out a cry and shafted Ginger even more deeply.  Ginger squawked 
at the new intrusion.  He forced himself down even harder within her.
         And then, his seed gone, he began to soften.  His hips stilled.  Ginger 
thrashed less violently beneath him.  Her legs ceased their aimless 
kicking.  Yet their tongues stayed together, searching, touching their tips, 
their lips kissing.  
         Slowly, after many minutes had gone by, Chip raised himself up from 
Ginger.  Her small body lay still on the bed.  A tremble passed through her 
and her face, twisted to one side, offered a lolling tongue.
         �You did well, Chip,� Annette praised him.  She was standing beside 
the bed, still wearing her white teddy with its pink bows, her crotch thong 
undone, hanging down.  Her big full bosoms, round and milk white, offered 
themselves.  The triangles of fabric that had once been slung up over her 
teats dangled hopelessly underneath her swelling breasts, untied, 
forgotten.  Chip, rising from the bed, seized Annette.  He sucked hard on 
one of her breasts, grabbing both.  He was a child again, needing milk.  Yet 
between his legs he was no longer hard.  He was spent.  Annette pushed 
him away.  She had no use for him now.
         �Another time,� she said.  �Another time, Chip.  We will play again.�  
Then she touched his penis, stirred it with her fingertips.  Just in case.  
But he had no more to offer.
         Suddenly Dave was there, standing in the bedroom door.  He wore his 
hood still, masking his face, and his long black boots that stretched up to 
his knees, and his pants that sheathed his powerful thighs but left his 
loins quite naked.  He held a whip in his hand.  His cock was big and fine 
and ready.
         Chip, surprised, stepped back from Dave�s wife.  
         �Did you fuck her?� Dave asked Chip.  The young man didn�t know to 
which female Dave referred.  He looked blankly at Dave.  Then, finally, he 
murmured:  �Ginger.  I fucked Ginger.�
         �Well, she is not my wife,� Dave replied.  He gave Chip a grim smile.  
Then he stepped forward and grabbed Annette by her lovely blonde hair.  
�You have a date with a strip of leather,� he growled to her.
         �No!  Oh, no!  Please, Dave!� Annette cried.  But he yanked her by her 
hair and dragged her by it, frog-marching her from the bedroom.  She was 
taken stumbling down the stairs to the first floor of the house and then, 
Chip listening, he heard them go into the basement, shutting its door with 
a slam.
         �I�m telling my mommie,� Ginger said.  Chip whirled about.  Ginger 
lay prone on the bed, still yoked within her collar, her face twisted 
toward him and frowning.  She stuck out her tongue at him.  It was a sweet 
raspberry-colored tongue.  
         Chip walked over to her.  He sat his bare buns down on the bed.  He 
reached through her hair and grabbed the back of her collar.  Abruptly he 
yanked her up so that she knelt spread-legged on the bed, but with her 
back straight.  She gazed open-mouthed at him.  She was still trapped in 
her collar, her arms held aloft, her hands beside her face.  Her breasts, 
young and still growing, stuck out like fleshy points from her chest.  Her 
belly drew in and then swelled in a flat little swell, then drew in again.  
Her pubis, just coming in, grew in soft fleecy curls where her legs met.  
         �Do you want me to undo the straps or do you want me to just leave 
you like that?� Chip asked her matter-of-factly.
         �Undo-- Undo the straps,� Ginger replied in a small, tremulous voice.
         �Okay,� Chip grunted.  It seemed to settle the matter.  Ginger 
remained quiet, poised on her knees, her back straight, her cunny arched 
forward invitingly, as Chip undid her collar and straps.  Out of the corner 
of his eye he noticed his seed dripping from her cunt, mixed with her 
blood.  It stained the white sheet on the bed.
         �There, you are undone,� Chip said when he�d finished.  Ginger shook 
her head like a dog emerging from water.  Her hair flew about, looking so 
lovely even in its tousled, unkempt state, all mussed from playing and 
fucking.
         �Where are my ribbons?� Ginger asked.  Kneeling still, she glanced 
around.  She seemed to value her hair ribbons more than her hymen.  She 
stretched back, a leonine cat stretching after a good fuck by her husband-
tiger, and fetched up her bows from where Annette had dropped them.  She 
retied them into her hair.  �I have to go home now,� Ginger said.  Chip 
nodded.  
         Quietly, like a prisoner stealing past a guard, Ginger slipped from 
the bed.  She padded to the door of the bedroom.  Chip watched her bottom.  
It rolled sweetly like a small child�s beach ball, colored red from where it 
had been slapped, white where Dave�s hand had not left an imprint.  At the 
door Ginger turned and blew Chip a kiss.  �Bye,� she called.
         �Goodbye,� Chip replied.  Then, feeling a little afraid, he added, 
�Don�t you want to take a bath first before you go home?�  But Ginger was 
gone, slipped through the door and rushing fleet-footed down the steps.  
Before he could even rise from the bed he heard the front door open and 
close.
         Chip got up from the bed.  He felt drawn to the bedroom door and then 
to the steps beyond.  As he descended them, nude, his cock dripping, the 
front door reopened.  Ginger stole within.  She was as lovely as before, her 
hair pinned up again in pigtails, her body soft and lissome, a cat, a kitten, 
a 12-year-old sexual tigress.  All three at once, Chip mused, and the sight 
of her made him stiffen, though, sensing himself between his legs, he 
guessed he was not hard in the one place he wished to be.  For a moment 
his mind thought she might be leading in her father, or the police.  But it 
was just her, little Ginger, all by herself.
         �I forgot my umbrella.  It�s raining outside,� she said.  She gazed up 
at him standing on the stairs.  Quietly she crossed the living room and 
tried the basement door.  It opened.  She stepped within.
         Chip heard a scream.  He bolted down the stairs.  There was the 
crack of a whip and another scream and then, emerging from that horrific 
melange of sounds, little Ginger reappeared.  She was holding her umbrella 
aloft over her head.  Quietly she closed the basement door again.  There 
was another scream, but the closed door shrouded it, so that it sounded 
only like a ghoul wailing far out at sea.
         �Bye.  I have to go home now,� Ginger said to Chip.  He was standing 
by the door and he stepped back reluctantly to let her pass.
         �Don�t-- Don�t you want me to walk you home or--?� he asked 
solicitously.  But Ginger only put a finger to her lips and smiled.
         �Nobody�s home.  I can sneak in and they�ll never know I was gone, if 
I hurry.  But they�ll be home soon.�  She seemed distressed a moment and 
reached down and cupped her pussy.  She grinned.  A sheepish, surprised 
grin.  �Your stuff is dripping out of me,� she said.  �I never went this far 
before.  I guess I�ll-- I�ll have to hold myself.�
         �Take a bath when you get home,� Chip said.
         �Sure.  O.K.  But I have to go or they�ll get home ahead of me,� Ginger 
said.  Then she hurried for the front door.  She held her umbrella in one 
hand, over her head, and with her other hand she held herself between her 
legs, catching the drips of Chip�s seed that dripped out of her.  Somehow 
she got the door open again and, in a flash of brown pigtails, she was gone.  
For a moment Chip heard the rain outside and then the front door closed 
and he heard nothing.  
         Chip felt his cock dripping between his legs.  He looked down at his 
feet.  The house was quiet.  He hoped Annette had a maid to clean up after 
them.  He wiped away a drop of sperm from the tip of his penis.  He should 
go too, he guessed.  He could stay and watch Annette be whipped but he 
was quite thoroughly spent and he didn�t want to be upstaged in the cock 
department by Dave.  
         Beckoning, perhaps, a wail arose from the basement, a female wail, 
but Chip decided to go upstairs instead.  He went back into the master 
bedroom where he�d fucked Ginger and looked at their bed.  Yes, it was 
theirs now too, as well as Annette�s and Dave�s, for they�d shared it to 
deflower her.  He went to the dresser and opened it and rummaged around 
until he found some of Dave�s underwear.  To his chagrin he discovered 
that Dave wore underwear a size bigger than he did.
         �Fat ass,� Chip assured himself.  He stepped into the underpants and 
pulled them on.  Then he went to the closet and fished out one of Dave�s 
shirts, and a pair of pants, trying to pick items Dave wouldn�t mind losing.  
He put them on, got socks for himself, went downstairs.  He felt awkward 
tying on Dave�s sneakers but he didn�t want to go down into the basement 
for his own clothes.  He didn�t know why, he just didn�t.  Perhaps he 
couldn�t bear the thought of seeing Annette whipped.  She had such a 
glorious bottom, so white, so perfect.  He tried to dismiss it from his 
mind.  He got the shoes tied and went to the front door and opened it.
         The rain met him.  As he stood on the front porch, admiring his 
camaro, hoping the rain would stop, standing half in and half out of the 
open front door, he saw a police car roll by.  It startled him, but the car 
kept going, moving purposefully but with no sense of purpose, patrolling.  
The car disappeared in the rain.  
         Dave pulled the front door shut and decided to take his chances with 
the rain.  He darted across the wet lawn.  He remembered that he�d left his 
keys and his wallet inside but his car was unlocked, and he knew where he 
had a second set of keys in the car.  Let Dave and Annette keep the wallet.  
He only carried money in it, and not much, for he knew he�d be laying it 
aside while he partied at their house.  He opened his car door and slipped 
inside.  He shut it quickly.  He was wet!  He could feel the rain streaming 
down his face and it had wet his hair and Dave�s shirt was matted to his 
chest.  
         �Damn, that was great,� Chip admitted to himself.  He�d partied a 
little before, but never like that.  He reached over to the other seat and 
wedged his hand down into it where the back of the seat met the seat 
itself and, searching within the seat crack, he fished out the extra pair of 
keys to his car.
         Dave started his car and wheeled it about on the slick street in the 
rain.  He looked once more at Dave and Annette�s house, wondering if she 
was still being whipped.  Then he saw a light come on upstairs in the 
house next door.  Ginger.  He smiled once, and then he floored his Camaro 
and was gone.                

30

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