---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LABORS OF LOVE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Six
It is a common thing among lovers. The male is built to dominate, to
impale. The female is made to receive and submit. In their little night-
time games, in their liasons during the day, a dervish of lust can overcome
them. It can push them to push each other to new heights of dominance
and submission. And so it was with Chip, and with Ginger.
They lay together in her bed. Her big Raggedy Ann doll stared
senselessly at them from her bedroom chair, the one she used to sit in
when her mother would count her toes and braid her hair for her.
Chip stirred. His cock felt like it would become rigid again. He liked
the feeling and he felt her legs draw apart a little beneath him. Her
tummy was hot and smooth and soft and his belly pressed against it. He
had hair on his belly but hers was like satin. Only a sheen of her sweat
covered it, from their lovemaking.
Their breath mingled. Chip kissed Ginger on the lips. She opened
them and he thrust in his tongue. His hands ran along her body and he
found them under her wiggly ass. Delightedly he cupped the soft childish
cheeks and he pulled them hard apart and he heard her yelp. He lifted
himself up off her to give his growing cock room. He lengthened, filling
the space between them. Despite her discomfort at being so harshly
separated, the cheeks of her fanny feeling like they would pop apart, she
opened her thighs for him and offered him her virginal dell.
She was tight. He had to work hard to get his erection inside her.
She moaned and lifted her legs and kicked her heels against his ass, as if
to protest his entry, but she was quite helpless now, pinned under him. In
a series of short, urgent strokes he filled himself with her. And then he
set himself to the labor of shafting her as many times and as hard as he
could without spilling into her small little womb.
They bathed together afterward. He hoped she was keeping up with
the Pills Annette had given her for, in a frenzy of lust, he�d cum in her, and
he had no idea how he�d explain to her father why. Yet his lust for her was
growing and when she knelt in front of him and washed his cock, he felt an
unbearable desire to possess her forever.
�There�s a club downtown,� he said to her. His voice was deep and
her hands upon him were small and infinitely gentle, washing his penis as
if it were her favorite toy which, since she was only 12, it may well have
been. As she handled him so carefully it inflamed him and he felt a
roaring need to make her completely subservient to himself. One might
have thought that a small, delicate creature, treating him kindly, would
arouse compassion in him. But instead it heightened his need to utterly
and totally dominate her and to force her, somehow, into the most obscene
demonstration of submission to him that his wicked mind could envision.
After their shower, as she stood naked, letting him pat her dry with
a towel, he told her how he wished to make her his complete and total
slave. It was the most perfidious form of slavery, for it was not a slavery
of mere work but of the body itself, of her body, of her sexual organs. It
would involve her breasts and her tongue and her bottomhole and her
pussy. And it would necessitate him forcing her to his will and beyond her
will, for there was no point in being a slave if everything was agreeable.
Ginger bit her lip and nodded. She consented. But of course she was
only 12 years old, and could hardly consent to what they�d already done,
let alone this, being his private, personal sex slave. He stroked her cunt
and he watched her shiver and it scared him, for suddenly he had her
completely to himself, and he felt a strange sense of responsibility wash
over him. But he was determined to force her to submit to a total and
complete slavery all the same, for he was young and lusty and increasingly
wild.
Since Chip had gotten out of the Army he�d let his hair grow. It was
almost shoulder length now, and Ginger�s, which had been shoulder length,
now hung halfway down her back. She�d started out with short pigtails but
now her pigtails were long and sensuous. He glanced at her in his car. He
hadn�t shaved and he had a rough look. He felt increasingly lawless. The
Army, which he�d joined at 17 with his parent�s permission, sick of
school, sick of being in their house, had trained him well. He was never to
have anything to do with minors, or men�s wives for that matter, or,
increasingly, any of the women who were in the service with him. Yet
since getting out of the Army he�d played with Dave�s wife, Annette, and
now he had little Ginger sitting beside him in his Camaro, and he was not
taking her to the playground. They were going downtown, and she looked
lovely in her starched white blouse, like a little Catholic school girl,
except now even girls like her, who went to public school, were made to
dress in uniforms, so men seeing them walk home from school would know
most definitely that they were not women but only little girls.
Ginger had some taffy and she drew it from between her lips and as
Chip watched her play with it, he knew the uniform, in her case, was quite
superfluous. Even a blind man would have been able to tell that she was a
minor.
�Try not to get that taffy stuck to the inside of my car,� Chip
warned her.
�Why, will you punish me for it?� she asked without looking at him.
Her voice was high and there was no mistaking it for a child�s voice.
A police car passed them, in the other lane, heading down the street.
Her school was two blocks behind them. Large trees dappled the
windshield of Chip�s car with shadows. They ran up the glass and darted
on over the roof unseen and more raced up behind them up the polished
hood of his car. He always washed it just for her and he�d spent hours
waxing it and although he couldn�t afford a new paint job for it he was
proud of the work he�d done on it.
�Just don�t get my car all sticky, okay?� he asked her. Just then she
pulled her taffy a little too far and suddenly it was stuck to the inside of
the roof of his car.
�Yikes!� she proclaimed. She let go of it and then grabbed it anew
and tried to pull it off the ceiling but it only stretched farther. Chip hit a
bump and the taffy dangled about like some stalactite hanging down, or
perhaps like a penis. Ginger laughed.
�Damn bitch,� he swore. But he didn�t strike her, despite a sudden
desire to, for he knew she�d be quite sore before the night was out.
They arrived downtown. He parked across the street from the club.
He walked her across the street feeling like her uncle, hoping he looked
like her uncle. Her long luscious auburn pigtails bobbed around her
shoulders as they walked, dancing down her back. She�d learned to walk by
crossing her legs and her bottom wiggled salaciously. She had on a skirt
from last year and it was shorter than it was supposed to be and it hugged
her hips. Her blouse was soft and he watched it press up against her
bosoms when the wind caught them from the front. She had breasts that
seemed to grow by the day. He felt his palm growing moist as he held her
hand. She squeezed his tightly. She had no idea what he had planned for
her. Her taffy still hung inside his car. It was, perhaps, her last act of
independence. From now on she would be completely and totally his.
It was �New Couples Hour� at the club. Because it was mid-afternoon
there were less people there than usual, and it was a specialty of the club
to devote this time to people who were new to bondage. They could come
and experiment, without being excessively pressured. They could explore,
test their limits, and not have to go beyond them if they didn�t wish to.
Another advantage for Chip was that the owner was more liberal with the
ages of the participants. As Chip entered the club with Ginger he saw
some couples who were clearly just kids, not even out of high school yet.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. But still he was a little worried, for
his girlfriend was the youngest of all, a mere 12-year-old. No one would
mistake her for 17, or even 16, and she squeezed his hand with the quiet
fright that you�d expect of a mere 7th grader, even a precocious 7th
grader, in a place like this.
The club was tastefully decorated. Like the club that sponsored
group gropes, it could only be entered secretly. An elevator in the lobby of
the building went down instead of up if you pressed all the buttons in
rapid succession and then entered 7-11-13. The numbers reflected the
philosophy of the club�s owner. Age 7 for playing doctor, age 11 for
petting, age 13 for sex. Well, Ginger was short a year, but he hoped the
club�s owner didn�t mind. The Blonde Widow had told him about the club as
he sat on his hands in her Prowler.
�Such a little boy you are,� she�d teased him, purposely hitting
bumps in her Prowler to make his journey more painful. He had only half-
listened at the time, thinking she was just taunting him, but somehow,
despite his scorched buttocks, he�d remembered the building the club was
in, and the code for the elevator.
�You should go downtown to Club Virgin,� she�d laughed. �That
would be the place for you. You�ll have to take someone with you, though.
Stags aren�t allowed. Perhaps you can find some little miss on the
playground who wants her cherry popped. Hmmmm?�
�Fuck you,� Chip had replied, not knowing she�d dump him out when
they got back to his car, and he�d never see her again.
�Newlyweds go there, and teens sometimes. Just hop in the elevator
and press 7-11-13.� She�d explained the numbers� meaning. �Mostly it�s
just a regular bad-ass bondage club, but in the early afternoons �newbies�
can play there. The code changes for regular business hours.� She didn�t
tell him that code, only the one for �virgins and �newbies,�� as she�d
laughingly put it. He�d dismissed her chatter from his mind at the time.
He thought she was making it up.
Yet here he was! The walls were panelled in oak and there were
tables made of expensive cherry wood, with carved wooden chairs that had
plump cushioned seats. Up on stage a woman was stripping. She looked
like someone�s new wife, and seemed a little nervous. Chip watched her
with interest, almost forgetting Ginger for a moment. She tugged on his
hand to remind him of her presence and pointed at the entryway to a
bathroom.
�Sure,� Chip replied, as he watched the woman on stage reveal a pair
of sumptuous bosoms. Ginger darted away. He found a table for them
amidst the half-crowded room and sat down. A waitress appeared. She
wore hotpants that were made of white fabric and slit unhelpfully up the
sides, showing her bare hips underneath right up to her waist. She had on
a blouse that she�d tied under her breasts to leave her belly bare. It was
flat and her body was slim and she looked no older than 19. She had a
small hat perched on her head and her hair, which was red, was pinned up
underneath it. A smattering of freckles decorated her cheeks. She wore
too much lipstick.
�Hi!� she said brightly. �Are you new?� She set down a drink which
Chip thought was a glass of water but when he picked it up and tasted it,
he found it was gin.
�Yeah,� he said.
�I saw you come in with your girlfriend,� she smiled. �Can I get you
anything?�
�Do you, like...� he swallowed hard. He hated asking but he wanted to
possess Ginger more deeply than he had before. They�d made love in her
bed and shared some adventures together and now he had a no-nonsense
feeling about her, and about himself too, and he wanted to cut to the
chase.
�Hey! No pervs allowed!� a harsh voice rang out. Chip flinched. But
then he saw the voice, which he somehow thought might be directed at
him, was instead being directed at a man who�d just entered the club,
alone. A bouncer went up to the man and ordered him out. The man
protested. A second bouncer appeared, and between them they got the man
back out through the club�s entryway and onto the elevator that was never
supposed to go down, unless you knew the code.
�They�ll have to change the code soon,� the waitress mused. She
turned and watched and Chip was torn between watching the commotion
and staring at her ass. Her hotpants were excessively short in back and
they left the luscious lower halves of her ass exposed. She turned back to
him. �The bouncers are supposed to stay by the elevator,� she said.
�Unfortunately the bartender lets them sit and drink at the bar when the
owner�s not here. I guess since she�s got the head of the Vice Squad on her
payroll they figure they can loaf at the bar instead of guarding the door.
Would you like some pot or coke or anything?�
�Nah,� Chip replied. �But I was wondering if you had, like some
bondage stuff we could play with?�
�Sure, there�s plenty in back,� the waitress answered. �I will have
to ask you for the $500 cover charge at this time.�
�$500.00?!� Chip blurted. That could completely repaint his old
Camaro in whatever color he chose, even gold, perhaps, or at least silver.
�Or you can have sex onstage,� the waitress continued. She smiled
at him. �I�m sure people would love to see you naked. I know I would.�
�Thanks,� Chip breathed. He wondered if she was somehow inviting
him to get into her hotpants after work.
�But I�ll get you a mask if you want to go the free route, dancing
onstage and making love to your girlfriend,� the waitress said. Ginger
emerged from the women�s bathroom. She had apparently omitted to use a
paper towel after washing her hands and was flinging her hands around in
the air to dry them. �She�s pretty young, you know. Almost too young to
be here, but I�m feeling generous, and you�re very handsome. Put on a mask
when you go onstage.�
�Okay,� Chip said. The waitress left. Ginger sat down. The woman
onstage was having sex with a man now. Ginger turned and watched them.
�She�s lovely,� Ginger said. Her voice sounded strangely mature.
The woman lay on a mattress that was placed on an elevated platform on
the stage. A man who looked like he might have been her husband entered
her and she bucked her hips up at him. The crowd, half adults, half
teenagers, applauded. Ginger clapped her hands and then slipped from her
chair and went over to Chip and sat on his lap. Chip stroked her long
pigtails.
�I want to do that,� Ginger whispered. She wriggled her bottom and
he felt himself grow hard underneath her ass.
�Well,� Chip replied, stroking her hair. �I guess we�re going to have
to. I don�t have any money for the cover charge.�
Ginger turned and looked at him. Onstage, the couple climaxed.
�You need to get a job,� she said to him seriously.
�Yeah,� he said. �I just wanted, you know, to kind of get my feet
back on the ground first,� he said. Actually he�d been too busy fucking her
and every other female his penis led him to, but he didn�t want to admit
that to her, or himself. He was getting pretty damn low on money.
�You could be a gigolo,� Ginger said. She put a finger to his face and
stroked it. The couple onstage was having another orgasm but they were
both ignoring them now, Chip hard underneath Ginger�s soft ass and she not
unaware of his state. �I like it when you don�t shave. Even if it does mean
you�ve got yet more hair on you,� she said. The music accompanying the
couple�s performance reached a crescendo. Yet it wasn�t the loud,
deafening music heard in some clubs, as if some quiet space needed to be
left for the audience, so they could make plans for themselves.
�I want, well, I need to take you up on stage and...� Chip began. He
hiked Ginger�s dress up her thighs. She had lovely tanned skin from
playing out by her backyard pool. He pushed her dress up more, so he could
see her white panties between her legs.
Ginger kissed him. A small, child�s kiss. He eased her down off his
lap. �Come on,� he said throatily.
There was a locker room in the back, unisex. The waitress showed it
to them. She pointed to metal lockers, a bare wooden bench. The room
was clean but spartan. There were a pair of sinks against one wall and
three toilet stalls. A small curtained cubicle held a shower.
�Naughty or nice?� the waitress asked Chip. He stood with a hand
behind Ginger�s head. His fingers played with her pigtails.
�Huh?� Chip asked. Ginger stared at the waitress� hotpants.
�Accessories, silly!� the waitress laughed. �You can�t just go out
there completely naked. You have to, you know, be playful.�
�Naughty,� Chip grunted.
�Good,� the waitress answered. She leaned forward and pecked him
on the cheek. Then she turned and left. Chip drooled at the sight of her
ass.
�Quit looking at her bottom!� Ginger scolded Chip. To get his
attention she slapped the bulge in his trousers.
�Sorry,� Chip said. Then, looking down at Ginger, he added, �Show
me yours instead. Get undressed.�
Ginger lifted her hands to the top button of her blouse, obediently,
where a small black bow circled her throat, completing her schoolgirl�s
uniform. She loosened the bow, asked, �Are you getting undressed to?�
�Yeah,� Chip said. He unbuckled his belt. She looked down at his
hands, her eyes growing wider, watching his fingers on his belt.
�I may have to whip you a few times with this onstage,� he said to
her. He drew the belt out of his trousers. But she didn�t say anything, just
kept undressing, turning away finally from him when it came time to unzip
and draw down her skirt.
The waitress returned with a small tray. Ginger was naked, hanging
her clothes neatly in a locker next to Chip�s. He was naked too, but he held
the belt from his pants in one hand.
�Oh, my! You�re huge!� the waitress said to Chip. He looked down at
himself. His cock was erect. Ginger turned and clasped a hand over the
head of his penis, her fingers spreading apart to accomodate the thick
throbbing bulb.
�And he�s sticky,� Ginger commented. Chip felt pre-cum ooze onto
her palm.
The waitress set down her tray on the bench. She picked up a black
mask and tied it around Chip�s face as Ginger watched.
�What�s that for?� Ginger asked.
�He�s going to be Zorro,� the waitress answered. �And you, my dear,
are going to be a little maiden in peril, hmmmm?�
�We�ve had sex before,� Ginger answered.
�Good. Then you must not be a virgin anymore,� the waitress said.
�I�m glad to hear it. How old are you?�
�12,� Ginger replied.
�Well you�re getting started early,� the waitress said. She finished
tying Chip�s mask on.
�We�ve already been to a bordello and I even went to some clubs by
myself,� Ginger said. She poked Chip in his belly button. �Without him.�
�I see,� the waitress said. �Well, I�ve got something special for you.
Have you ever seen nipple clamps before?�
�Hmmm,� Ginger said. She followed the waitress� gaze down to the
tray she�d brought in.
�These are junior-type nipple clamps,� the waitress said. She lifted
one from the tray and let it dangle from her fingers. She looked at Chip.
�It ties on her instead of clamping, to protect her little teats. But it�s
still weighted.�
�Ummm,� Chip grunted. He almost spilled onto the tray, looking at
the nipple attachment the waitress held up in front of him. She was still
properly uniformed, he was buck-naked, Ginger was surprisingly docile and
willing. He wanted to just grab himself and ejaculate on the two of them,
but he instead took the nipple weight from her fingers.
�And this,� the waitress continued. �Is for her tongue.� She picked
up a sheath. It was in the shape of a tongue, or rather half a tongue, for
that was the amount of one�s tongue it was designed to enclose. At the
tongue-tip it had a spring, to allow it to be snapped shut. The open end of
the tongue-sheath was designed to bite down on the tongue across its
middle.
�And finally,� the waitress said, picking up a small G-string, �This
is something for her puss.� She ran a manicured nail along the part of the
string designed to go between Ginger�s legs. It was round, like a rope. It
looked soft as cotton but gnarled, as if designed to rub her between her
legs and arouse her. The waitress handed the G-string to Ginger. �I
expect you to do a sexy little dance in this,� she said.
�I don�t like it,� Ginger said. �It looks silly with this big pink bow
attached in back.� She ruffled a pink bow sewn into the back of the G-
string�s waist belt where it connected to the part that ran up through her
ass. �Where�s the rest of it?� she asked.
�It�s a G-string, silly,� the waitress replied. �There is no �rest of
it.� You�re going to put it on and wiggle around in it onstage, with your
pigtails flying, and then you�re going, I think, to get a good strapping for
being so naughty from Zorro here, and then hopefully he�ll fuck you with
that big thing of his.�
Ginger blushed. She turned red from her toes to her forehead. �I
could never do that,� she sighed. But Chip saw she was simultaneously
excited by the prospect of being seen by so many people, of being the
center of attention.
Chip snapped his belt and it almost hit Ginger�s bare bottom. �Get it
on,� he growled at her. She shivered and looked at him and he looked quite
ominous unshaved, with his hair growing long on his head, and his chest
hair standing up because the room was cool and both their bodies were
chilly.
Like a nude little baby Ginger stepped into the crotch belt. She drew
it up her thighs and it was made of elastic and it became tight on her as
she got it up around her hips.
�It was tough finding a size that small,� the waitress admitted to
Chip. He nodded. He felt impossibly criminal watching little Ginger fit
herself into a G-string, but she was absolutely darling in it. Her
bottomcheeks were split by the string, looking like twin apples ready for
polishing. It sliced between her pussy lips. She complained immediately
that it made her feel all wicked between her legs. She pulled the string
out of her pussy and looked down at it.
�It won�t stop RUBBING me!� Ginger whined.
�Let go of it,� the waitress admonished. She unhooked Ginger�s
little fingers from the string and it snapped back into place within her
cunt.
�Ooooh, I�m getting wet!� Ginger sighed.
�Good. You�ll need it for his big thing,� the waitress told her.
Chip was a man, but he was a young man, and he couldn�t help
grabbing himself, looking at Ginger snug in her little G-string. Holding his
belt in one hand, but otherwise naked, he put a fist to his cock and began
masturbating himself. The waitress smiled. She put her hands to the
front of her hot pants. She unsnapped them.
�Do you think you could handle both of us?� she asked Chip. Her eyes
were warm, bright.
�Sure,� Chip groaned. He felt a tremor of need rush through him,
right to the end of his cock, and he had to quickly let go of himself, lest he
shower them both with his seed.
�Good,� the waitress replied. She bent forward a little and skimmed
her hotpants down her legs. Her bottom bulbed out at him, high and firm
as Ginger�s was, but wider and more fully developed. She dropped her
pants to her feet and stepped free of them, still wearing the new white
sneakers that were part of her uniform. �I think it will be better for both
of you if I appear onstage with Ginger. We can annouce that we�re sisters,
and people will be less suspicious.�
�Okay,� Chip agreed. He was hungry for her. Ginger pouted.
�I don�t like sharing,� she said. The waitress sat on the bench in
front of her and picked up a nipple attachment.
�Just be good. We can�t let him get in trouble,� the waitress told
her. She reached for one of Ginger�s nipples and caught it between her
polished fingers. She tugged on the girl. Ginger stepped closer. The
waitress tied the nipple attachment onto Ginger�s erect tit-bud. The girl
looked down, watching.
�Ooooh,� Ginger sighed, when the tit attachment had been securely
knotted around her nipple. A small weight hung by a thread from her right
breast. It made her high, firm pointy breast tug downward a little. Chip
almost shot off, watching her. How lovely her perfect tit looked, drawn
down by the thread, springing up in resistance, then sagging down a little
again, then up! A precarious balance appeared between the weight and her
tit, the weight fighting to pull her breast down, her breastflesh
responding with an upward lilt. Every time Ginger moved her breast
wiggled anew, and the weight and her teat fought a new battle.
Carefully the waitress tied on the remaining weight. When she was
done Ginger looked like some white-fleshed African princess, a captured
Jane adorned with lewd ornaments. But Chip, her Tarzan, wasn�t about to
save her. Instead he continued to aimlessly thrash his belt by his leg,
while rubbing himself with his free hand.
�Ooooh, I hate you!� Ginger scolded him. But those words were her
last for the waitress picked up the tongue sheath and made her open her
mouth and clipped it smartly to her tongue, making her gasp.
�I- don- li- thi-,� Ginger protested, but the waitress only laughed,
and Chip laughed, for she was quite captive now, unable to talk and with
weights dangling tortuously from her breasts and a belt rubbing her
snatch. Ginger flung her head about and her pigtails went flying. Perhaps
she was trying to rid herself of the sheath, but it was quite impossible,
that way. The waitress held her hands as she tossed her head about and
when she was finished with her little soundless temper tantrum the
waitress snapped a leash to her captive tongue so she could be led around
by it.
�Best use of a girl�s mouth I�ve seen in years,� Chip said. The
waitress removed his hand from his cock and made him take Ginger�s
mouth-leash in his hand.
�It�s better than piercing, for a girl her age,� the waitress replied.
She looked at Ginger. �You are too young for that, my dear, so don�t even
think about it. No tattoos, no piercings, and no weird hairstyles either,
okay?� Then, impulsively, the waitress bent forward and kissed Ginger�s
belly. She had a small, soft child�s belly, one that stuck out a little, until
the waitress leaned forward to kiss it.
�Oook!� Ginger protested, drawing in her belly. She felt over-loved,
as if both of them were about to have her for their afternoon snack. The
waitress ignored Ginger�s protest and yanked on her crotch belt, pulling it
up. �Yeek!� Ginger cried. The belt was already tight in her pussy and the
waitress pulling it up only made it rub her even more snugly.
�I want to get pregnant and have a baby soon,� the waitress told
Chip.
�I- no- a ba-eee,� Ginger gurgled within her tongue-gag. The leash
hung from her mouth and Chip tugged on it.
�Come on, Little Miss Colorado,� he teased. �I�m not going to
fracture your skull but I think I�m going to ram myself up your cunt.� He
throbbed, his erection hard between his legs, his knees working back and
forth a little from his lust to ejaculate. �Or sperm your thigh, if we don�t
hurry,� he said. He looked at the waitress. �Are you coming?� She smiled
and impulsively she rubbed her pussy.
�Yes!� she breathed. She stood up, still wearing her waitress� cap,
and her blouse, which was still tied neatly under her breasts, covering
them but baring the belly she hoped to get impregnated soon. She took
Ginger�s hand and Ginger felt a little bit like a circus monkey walking
between them, the shortest and smallest of them, with weights adorning
her teats and a crotch belt rubbing her slit and being led by a leash hung
from her tongue. But she walked docilely, bowing her head a little. The
couple that had been enjoying each other onstage came down the small
flight of steps from the stage, holding hands, the woman carrying what
remained of her clothes in one hand, the man unassumingly naked. His
cock, once hard, now hung limp between his legs. She walked with a
pronounced wiggle, as if unaccustomed to having him between her thighs,
or the recipient of what must have been a very vigorous fucking.
The music stopped. Applause drifted down the stairs after the
couple, they passed Ginger and Chip and the waitress, whose name Chip
still didn�t know, and whose name he cared little about, watching her
gorgeous jiggling ass. There were teenage whoops and hollars from the
crowd beyond. Boldly, with brave little Ginger walking beside him, Chip
mounted the steps to the stage. He could feel his big erection all swollen
and stiff between his legs and he wanted to just throw Ginger down on the
steps right there in the stairway and bang her brains out, but he knew
there must be a performance first, featuring his Penis, Onstage. Either
that or he had to very quickly come up with $500.00.
Suddenly the stage came into view. Chip saw two maids hurriedly
changing the sheets on the mattress that waited for them. Plastic
sheeting, then white sheets were stripped off and new ones put on. Chip
stepped onstage and heard wild applause and it was perhaps fitting, for
his dick was joggling wildly and stiffly between his legs. He�d never felt
so hard in his life and he felt Ginger lean in close to him, excited and
scared at being seen in the all together by so many people.
The maids finished making the bed and departed down stairs
opposite the dressing room entrance. Chip turned, confronted the crowd.
He wasn�t sure what to do with himself, standing there naked, so he
bowed. His cock bobbed as he bowed and the females in the audience loved
his gallant gesture. Bras and panties suddenly flew onstage. A bouncer
barked out that the audience wasn�t supposed to strip. Chip felt himself
blushing and he wondered if his dick was blushing too but he had no time
to look, for the waitress took him by his penis and batted her deep blue
eyes at him and Ginger was looking at him all scared. He was led by the
waitress over to the bed and Ginger tripped along beside him, led by her
tongue-leash.
The waitress slapped Chip on his bare buns. �Get up, both of you,�
she told them. Chip picked up little Ginger like a sack of potatoes, rather
ungallantly, after his noble bow to the audience, and tossed her onto the
fresh bedding. Ginger yelped out some kind of a protest but the sheath
over her tongue kept her from being understood. It made no difference;
Chip was hard and desperate and he needed her legs apart. She squeezed
them together but he grasped them and felt their exquisite softness and
then, rudely, he yanked them wide open.
�Eeep!� Ginger yelped. She looked at him with big eyes. He kneed his
way up onto the matress on the platform. He knelt over her and, perhaps
because the girls in the audience were screaming now, he humped the air,
making his cock waggle all about like a big fleshy totem pole. The
waitress came round to the head of the bed, still demurely in her hat and
tied-up blouse. She held Ginger lightly by her frail thin small shoulders,
tanned from the summer sun. Chip grabbed at Ginger�s white breasts and
stabbed his penis between her legs.
The crotch belt stopped him. Chip swore. He let go of Ginger�s teats
and grabbed the belt round her waist and yanked it down her thighs. It was
wet with her dew but he was too busy to notice. He had to back himself
down her legs a little to get it off her feet and as he did she kicked at his
groin lightly, as if to protest her fate, but not hard enough to stop him. He
had planned to spank her for the audience but now he was like a starved
lion and she was wet and he�d lost his belt, leaving it somewhere on the
floor, on the stage, out of reach. Instead of making Ginger turn over and
show her bottom to him and giving her a good swatting, perhaps even
plunging himself up her ass to her utter mortification in front of the
audience, he simply tossed her crotch-belt at them and reclaimed her
breasts with his hands.
�Ooooh!� Ginger howled. Chip mounted her. Ginger�s heels found
themselves behind him again and she kicked them against his bare ass.
�Unnnhhh!� Chip groaned. He stuck her with his cock and he leaned
forward hard. She was small, and wet. He was heavy. His length stabbed
into her and he felt like a wild beast, eating prey. Ginger screamed. Her
tongue was already sheathed but the waitress put a hand over her mouth to
silence her further.
Desperately, urged on by the crowd and feeling absolutely wild and
unstoppable, Chip fucked Ginger mercilessly. She wailed and cried out but
he knew she�d had him before and could handle him, tight as she was,
small as she was. He ignored her flying pigtails and her wet teary eyes.
He paid no attention to the way she tried to squirm out from under him.
Chip plowed her. He was like a machine making deep furrows in the
soft soil. He battered her with her cock and the waitress kept her hand
helpfully over Ginger�s mouth. After he�d jetted once into her, finding
himself still hard, still within her, he slowed his pace a little and gave
Ginger kisses on her face. She began to buck against him in response. The
waitress let go of Ginger�s mouth and, gaspingly, Ginger kissed Chip back,
still gurgling under a flood of tears. But they were happy tears now, not
frightened, woeful, pettish tears.
�You never did spank my bottom,� Ginger said to Chip in the car on
the way home. Her taffy still dangled from her ceiling.
Chip smiled. �Do you want me to now?� he asked.
�No,� she replied. �I don�t like spankings. Anyway, I lied about my
mom and dad not being home tonight. I was hoping you�d spank me and I�d
come home crying and then you�d get caught and have to explain yourself.�
�What?!� Chip asked.
She looked at him. Her snub nose stuck up at him. Her eyes glowed
in the darkness of the car. Passing streetlights flitted across her face.
�Well, you�re my boyfriend, aren�t you?� she asked.
�Yes, but--� Chip said. �I�m 21! I don�t even like picking you up at
school. I�m not sure your friends think I�m you�re uncle.�
�Well, anyways,� she said. �I liked the club you took me to tonight.
It was weird, but--� she put a hand over her dress and he saw her wedge it
down between her legs. �Wow.�
�You liked that, huh?� he asked. She wrinkled her nose. She rubbed
herself lightly.
�I won�t admit I liked it,� she said frankly. �But I�m not going to
trick you into getting caught by my parents.�
�Thanks,� Chip said.
�You need to get this taffy off your ceiling before you take me out
again,� Ginger told him. She tugged on it.
�Yeah.�
�And get a job, too. I�m running out of candy,� she said.
�We already discussed that,� he told her. �I want you to quit eating
candy and eat healthy foods, like celery, and carrots, and--� He stopped
his car in front of Annette�s house, so she could run home without her
parents knowing she�d been out driving around with some guy in his car.
He looked at her breasts. They bulged nicely into her starched school
uniform blouse. �And drink lots of milk,� he told her.
She leaned over and kissed him. �Get a job,� she said. She patted
his crotch even as she deftly rubbed her own, her skirt between her
underpants and her hand. �And get that thing all ready again, okay? I
think I�ll be needing it soon.�
�I love you,� he said to her.
�I don�t know if I love you or not but you are really cool,� she said.
�Did you ever think of getting a new paint job for your Camaro, though?
My girlfriend says it needs one.�
�I think I better get a new car if any more people catch on that I�m
dating you,� Chip said worriedly.
�Yeah. Get a job and then you can have a new car every time you pick
me up from school,� Ginger told him.
�Sure,� Chip said. She kissed him again.
�Bye,� she whispered. And a moment later she was out of his car.
He watched her dart across her lawn. Behind her the long brown pigtails
that her mother wanted to cut streamed out behind her.
�Bye,� he answered, quietly, only himself hearing. But he knew he�d
be back in a day or two, perhaps sooner, and one way or another he was
going to repaint his Camaro for her. And he was also going to somehow
get her damned taffy off his ceiling.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browser�s �Location� window. Press your �return� key.
Click on �Power Search� in the middle of the screen. Next,
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears.
Click on �find� (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges� Radiant
Identities and David Hamilton�s The Age of Innocence. Support art!
- JOIN the world�s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION Need a book? http://www.amazon.com