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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                 PUNISHED FOR PLEASURE

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                                          Chapter Four

         It�s easy to be led to your fate if you permit yourself little 
apprehension of it.  And I, it must be admitted, wasn�t following what I�d 
been taught on Safe Street.  I was with strangers.  I was nude.  I was 
underground.  For all I knew, the only people who knew of this place (who 
were still living) were us.
         Bridget�s eyes grazed across the slick wet surface of my skin as tea 
was served.  We lay on flat rocks, grateful for the smoothing of Nature 
that had taken place over millions of years in this rock-hewn room.  I took 
her gaze as one of Platonic (well, erotic) admiration.  Sure, we were both 
girls.  Sure, we shouldn�t compare nipples and admire, with open eyes, how 
they stood so readily to attention.  But our lust was gentle, appreciative.  
Soft stares, embarrassed comparisons.  We even admired, together, the 
swing of Amber�s bottom as she served us tea.
         How could I help not feeling a bit decadent?  I had been a normal girl.  
I had not pursued girls as lovers, only as playmates.  And the joy of having 
a girlfriend is the intimate secrets you share.  About everything.  
Especially things having to do with sex.  Every girl knows this.
         Bridget reached over and stroked my nipple.  
         �Mmmm,� I whispered.  
         �They think this is just a toy,� Bridget said to me quietly.
         �A what?� I asked.
         �The men.  They think our nipples are just toys,� Bridget said.  She 
blew across mine.  I shivered.
         �Yes I know,� I said.  My voice felt quick.  I didn�t want her to stop 
and yet I was beginning to feel embarrassed at our intimacy.  We had 
touched.  We had admired.  Wasn�t that enough?  Even among friends, there 
was a limit to touch. 
         �Let�s show them it isn�t,� Bridget said.  Her face pressed close to 
mine.  I heard her voice in my ear.  She kissed me.  Lightly.  Encouragingly.  
As if to say, �I know you won�t let me down.�
         I turned my head.  I pulled my face a little back from her.  We were 
too close.  Her breath was sweet but I didn�t want it flowing up my nose.
         �What could we do?� I asked.  I lifted my body slightly, pulled it just 
beyond her probing fingers.  She lifted her hand, arched her fingers.  She 
caught my nearest tit.  At the tip.  She squeezed, enough to remind me of 
her earlier display of power on one of my nipples.
         �Let�s give them a demonstration of breast feeding,� Bridget told 
me.  I looked at her fingers on my tit.
         �Okay,� I answered.  It seemed the best answer.  I didn�t want to 
displease her.  
         �Good,� she said.  She let go of my tit.  Lightly she brushed it with 
her fingernail.  Then, as if not to cheat me, she touched my other nipple as 
well.
         �I want some MILK!� I heard Amber shout.
         �There�s just tea, and some champagne, but we might go swimming 
later and--� Sherry replied, when Amber issued her demand again.
         �No chocolate milk, no white milk...� Amber began ticking off the 
faults of the fridges� contents.
         �It may not be the London Bridge, but she expected it to carry that 
much food anyway,� Jim remarked to Walter.  
         I brushed a strand of hair back from my face.  Bridget patted my flat 
tummy.
         �Roll over,� she said.  I had no idea what that had to do with breast 
feeding, but I obeyed.  I felt the worn rock against my freshly wettened 
skin.  My bottom stuck up behind me.  The warm water of the pool lapped at 
my body, reasurringly.  I kicked my feet freely in the deeper water beyond, 
slowly, enjoying the floating feeling it gave me.  I was a beached whale, 
my upper part on wet, water-washed land and my lower part still 
available to the open sea.
         Bridget took one of my hands.  It lay palm upwards along my bare hip.  
Lightly she lifted it, I let her.  I still felt soft, receptive, I kept my legs 
apart as I slowly kicked so that I would enjoy the luxury of the water 
washing between them.  Its touch upon my unprotected wet slit.
         My hand, Bridget�s new toy, was laid to rest in the small of my back.  
Then she lifted my other one.  It was made to join the first.
         �I must tie them.  Please be still,� Bridget said.
         What?  We didn�t even have bikinis, let alone string bikinis, in this 
room.  It was for bathing!  For--
         Eating breakfast?  I could smell my tea and the aroma of the 
sausages, now joined by eggs, as Bridget passed a rope with expert fingers 
around my wrists and bound them.
         �But I want to eat!� I squeaked.  The pressure of my chin upon the 
rock distorted my ability to speak.
         �Of course you will eat breakfast,� Bridget replied.  Her voice was 
soothing.  �Mommie will feed you.�
         �Mom-- ?� I asked.  
         �Yes,� Bridget soothed.  Not without meaning, I thought, she traced 
across my bottom where I had been whacked by Erica�s crop.  My fanny�s 
tattoo had faded.  It was almost white now, my bottom, perhaps entirely 
so, but Bridget knew I remembered the line, without or without its mark.

         I ate the entire breakfast lying flat on my belly with my food passed 
through opened lips by Bridget�s fingers.  Amber squawked when they put 
her in the same pose.  She cried a little.  But Sherry, the same who had 
met me and induced my compliance, so easily, there upon their big bed in 
the bed room, worked upon Amber.
         �But its MY cave!� Amber shouted.
         �There are still rooms you have not explored,� Sherry answered 
soothingly.  
         Bridget�s finger stroked its way down between the cracks of my 
bottom.
         �Mmmm, we must dress you afterward,� Bridget assured me.  �We 
might be nude, but the fatted calf must always be decorated for the 
slaughter.�
         �I don�t want to be eaten!� Amber screamed.
         �The knife is for the sausages, dear.  It is not for you,� Sherry, 
giving her kisses, said reassuringly.  �Settle down.  I must spoon your eggs 
between your lips and I don�t want your place getting all messy.�
         �My place...� I said to Bridget.  I meant the spot right in front of my 
face.  My place mat, that is, as she began feeding a big, uncut sausage into 
my mouth.  The rest of my sentence was swallowed as the big round beef 
pushed past my lips.
         �Hmmm?� Bridget asked.  �Your place mat?  There are no placemats 
here, you know that,� Bridget told me.  �Bite now.  Carefully.  Use your 
lips, use all your mouth.  I don�t want sausage crumbs all over your �place 
mat�, dear.  Rocks have rights too.�
         I chewed.  The big sausage remained beneath my nose, pressed to my 
lips, waiting for me to take another bite.  It was tasty sausage, just an 
awkward way to eat it.
         �There, see?  Look what Erika found for you,� Sherry said somewhere 
to a belly-eating Amber.  �Stop crying.  Don�t cry, dear, we only have your 
best interests at heart.  See?  Erika found Trix Cereal.  All the fruity 
flavors.  I�ll pop them in your mouth one at a time so you can follow your 
nose.�
         �That�s the Froot Loop Bird!� Amber protested.  The offense of 
mistaking one cartoon for another stopped her crying.  �The Froot Loop 
bird has a big nose,� Amber explained.  I was shocked at how quickly she 
went from hysterics to calm.  �The Trix Wabbit has big ears,� Amber said.  
Her voice became small, almost too quiet to hear.  I realized Amber had 
perhaps explored the whole cave, after all, and knew its potential.  She 
knew more than me, at any rate. 

         I stood admiring myself in the mirror.  Beside me, Bridget was nude.  
The sleek lines of her body met at inviting points.  Yet nothing hid what 
lay there.  No scrap of cloth.  No top, no bottom.  Just the flesh, all white, 
letting itself be seen like pale expanses of ivory.
         My skin was covered at least with a tan.  But zones of promise 
showed where my swimsuit usually covered me.  There my flesh, like hers, 
was white, and unprotected.
         There were close to a dozen of us in the room.  The bedroom.  Where 
we�d mated.  Yet despite our pleasures earlier in the night, despite our 
satisfactions, we were still nude.  There was not a stitch of clothing 
between us.  We were like lost children in Eden, bare, our genitals exposed 
and shame unknown to our eyes.  
         I felt my breakfast in my belly.  I felt satisfied, safe.  Yet it was an 
illusion.  My hands were still tied.  I was still Bridget�s prisoner.    
         I looked frankly between Bridget�s legs.  She saw where my 
wandering eyes rested and smiled.  Quickly I looked away.  I looked back at 
myself.  In the mirror.  Hers was black.  My nest was gold.  As I looked 
from her pubis to mine I noted how my curls were glinting in the light 
cast in the bedroom�s corner.
         Bridget reached down to a pillow lying in front of the mirror.  She 
picked up a small triangle of cloth.  It was white.
         �You�ll wear this little bikini over your private until we arrive,� 
Bridget said.  She presented it to my pussy.  She threaded my legs with it.  
She lifted it, arranged it over my bush.  The cloth pushed against my 
springy curls.  My slit and the panty crotch touched.  Bridget tied the 
garment�s drawstrings.  My bare hips felt the bite of tightened string.  I 
was held.  
         �Why do we have to dress if we�re just going to be nude again?� 
Amber, standing next to me, asked Sherry.
         �Don�t wiggle,� Sherry replied.  
         �You�re being prepared, dear,� Erika told Amber.  Larissa, already 
dressed, stood silently just to my side.  Her hands were bound behind her 
back.  Panties were tied round her hips.  They hid as little as mine did.  
She was the men�s property.  The three of them had dressed her more 
quickly than Bridget could dress me.  She�d spent breakfast a free woman, 
but with penises for her side dish. 
         �Why are they underpanties?� Amber asked in a high-pitched voice. 
         �For the same reason you have ribbons in your hair,� Erika answered.  
�You belong to us for a little while, okay?  We can do as we wish with you.  
Don�t whine or I�ll give you a reason to whine, girl!�
         Amber said nothing more.  
         Bridget fingered my slit.  The fabric protecting my snatch did 
nothing to stop her intrustion.  It was too thin.
         �You must make them wet,� Bridget said to me.  
         �I- I�m not...� I lost my words.  I felt a wave of pleasure wash over 
me. 
         �Mmmmmm!� a high-pitched voice squealed a moment after mine.  
�Stop tickling my pussy!�  It was Amber.  They had fitted her panties on 
and were pleasuring her.  
         �You are tied but it is good, hmm?� Walter asked.  
         Beside me, I felt Laurie give a quick, desperate nod.
         We were touched until they were sure that our scent would be left in 
our panties.  Then they stopped.  I watched Bridget�s finger as it withdrew 
from me.  She touched it to her lips.  She kissed it.
         �You excite me,� she confessed to me.  Her voice was husky.  I 
glanced at her soft, feminine body.  How could such supple flesh hide what 
I now heard burning in her voice?  My eyes darted up over the slopes of her 
breasts, past her nipples, to her neck.  Her face.  She was eager for me.  
         I blushed at the fire I saw in her eyes.  Consolingly, she kissed my 
cheek.
         �You will learn,� she whispered.  �You will learn to love another... 
woman.�  She kissed me again.  I felt my knees go weak underneath me.  
She smiled.  She touched my slim shoulder and steadied me.  �Yes,� she 
said.  �You are mine to do with as I please.� 
         �Look, mommie bought you something else,� Erika said to Amber.
         I turned my head.  
         �A collar?� Amber squawked.
         �Yes, don�t you like it?� Erika said to the blonde.
         �I don�t need a collar, I need a bra!� Amber answered.  But Erika 
simply put the collar around her neck anyway.  I received one from Bridget.  
Larissa was given one by the men.  Our necks were buckled like suitcases.        

         We were led from the bedroom.  We followed the hall.  Like gazelles 
we walked, gazelles sought by men, captured now, being taken off for 
slaughter.  The innocence of such animals even in their greatest hour of 
danger showed in our eyes.  We were large-eyed, observing all, yet driven 
forward, hoping for reprieve from our captors as they gazed at the 
succulence of our bodies.  We were a good catch.  Well fatted where the 
meat was tenderest, long and lean on our limbs.  I could feel the weight of 
my breasts bouncing heavily on my chest.  My nipples stood hard.  My bush 
sprouted invitingly between my young legs.  My snatch was a wet promise.  
Panties, some joke of civilization, ringed my hips, hiding nothing with a 
wisp of expensive cloth.  My dell sucked against the intruded material 
Bridget had jammed up into my snatch in her explorations.  My body was 
hers, theirs.  Only my eyes, large and frightened, remained free of their 
control.
         They took us down the tunnel toward the two pools that served as 
potties.  Then, where the bath tunnel began, they turned in.  But no sooner 
had we turned to go to the bath than we turned again!  I had not seen this 
hidden crevice in the rocky wall that jutted in on me from the left.  
         Bridget�s fingers took hold of me.  �You will have to turn,� she said.  
�The crack is quite narrow.�  And indeed it was.  Larissa, going first, was 
guided by the men.  They had to be careful following her.  Their cocks, 
jutting out in front of them, sought to scrape the rock walls every 
direction they faced.  Bridget, when my turn came, clasped my breasts and 
eased me through.  Sherry followed with Amber.
         The cave widened.  Enough to walk.  I listened to my bare feet make 
contact with the rock underfoot as we followed a path.  It was a natural, 
cave grown trail, where rock had thrust itself up from the warmth of the 
earth and then, later, lonely at its fate in the night, exposed and cold 
under the fixed staring starlight, it had split.  We were in such a split and 
as the razor walled rock fell away from me, I found a sense of 
claustrophobia pass.  We were let go.  Not by our human masters, but by 
the rock.  The path between the rock became quite wide.
         I felt my feet touch wood.  I looked down.  Around the corner, amid 
the gloom, I found myself on a board.  A makeshift bridge.  It was about 
two feet long.  A foot wide.  Carefully I crossed it.  A watery fluid passed 
underneath it.  Water, I guessed, but it had a sulfer smell.
         �Don�t get your feet wet,� Bridget chided me.  
         A room opened.  To my surprise, it was another room that played 
host to a pool.  But along the edges of this pool the walls gradually closed 
in so that, at the far end, there was only flat wall.  I saw, poised in the 
far wall like an entrance, a dark hole.
         �Yes, we�ll have to swim across,� Bridget said to me.  �We can�t 
walk around it.�  She gestured toward the hole in the wall.  �That�s the 
entrance to the training room.�
         I stared at the hole.  It was big, menacing.  It looked like a giant 
maw waiting to swallow me up.  Within I could see light glimmering.  I 
felt a tremor pass through me.  Somehow I would cross the lake, and find 
myself in there, or...  or what?  I guessed they�d find a way to make me 
cross.
         �Line up, girls!� Jeff called out.  He made Larissa and Amber and I 
stand shoulder to shoulder.  He took the pose of a drill sergeant in front of 
us.
         �Girls,� he said.  He put a drawl in his voice.  Larissa broke into a 
giggle.  
         �Are you laughing at my cock?� Jeff snapped at her.
         �No,� Larissa answered.
         �Well if you do, I�ll make you lick it!� Jeff said.  He put his hand to 
his dick.  He stroked it.  It bulged from his fist at either end like a fire 
hose.  
         Larissa stared at it.  She blushed.  Then, remembering her breakfast, 
she said, �I think you already did.�  
         �Yes,� Jeff nodded.  He grinned.  Then he again passed his eyes over 
all three of us.  He pointed at the hole in the rock beyond.  �Girls, that 
there is the trainin� room.  We are going to cross this lake single file.  You 
will not find it easy.  However, nothing in the training room is easy either, 
so we may as well get started.�  He cleared his throat.  He looked at his 
cock.  He seemed for a moment to waver between saying more, and needing 
to concentrate lest something untoward happen.  �Don�t shoot on me yet, 
ol� boy,� he finally muttered under his breath to his penis.  I looked at the 
trembling erection aiming itself at us from between his legs.  I felt like I 
was under a gun.  One move, and he�d shoot me.   
         �He has to go to the bathroom,� Amber, next to me, confided to 
Sherry.  
         �Want me to lick it some more for you, sir?� Larissa offered.
         �No,� Jim answered.  �Wise of you to ask, though.  A drill sergeant 
does have to keep his primary weapon well-polished.  You�ll be called to 
the head of the class if mine needs any polishing during our stay in the 
training room.�
         �Thank you, sir,� Larissa said.  Her voice was respectful.  I realized 
she would play along no matter what they had planned for us.  She was 
committed.  To the whole thing.  I wasn�t sure I was.  I still liked 
preserving my options, at least in my head.  I might, I might not.  I was 
still free to choose, wasn�t I?  I looked at Larissa.  Her eyes were bright.  
She glanced at me, then away.  I felt my belly sink.  She had fallen in love 
with Jim.
         I glanced at the others.  I saw them only as friends.  They were eager 
to try something.  It had been fun so far.  There had been teasing, touching.  
There had been more.  Last night had been fun.  There had been no 
inhibitions then, just as there were none now, and we�d all gotten to 
experiment on each other.  
         And now there was going to be... training.
         I felt a tremor.  My nipples, already stiff, grew more.  I felt a wave 
of yearning in my belly.  What could they mean, training?  Couldn�t they 
just tell us?  We could learn by listening, not by doing.  
         �Let�s step over here to the water�s edge, girls,� Jim said.  We 
obeyed.  Me because I was too curious not to.  Amber because she knew 
something, or perhaps nothing, about how she felt in the cave, and wanted 
to go on feeling it.  Larissa because she loved Jim.  A man we�d only just 
met a day before. 
         Jim arranged us along the edge of the pool.  Then he told us to step 
into the water.  It was cold.  Bridget touched her fingers to my hips.  �I 
must take these off now,� she said to me.  I watched as she undid the ties 
of my panties.  They fell down my legs.  They struck the water and floated 
upon it.
         �Now let�s go forward, girls,� Jim called out.  He led the way.  Like 
Tarzan, but without a loin cloth, he turned and walked into the deeper part 
of the pool.  
         We followed.  We stepped away from our panties.  They remained 
behind, floating on the water.  They floated placidly.  I looked back at 
mine, over my shoulder.  But for a million years, and the permeability of 
the fabric, already becoming waterlogged, they might have floated forever.
         �Single file, girls!� Jim called.  He made us rearrange ourselves into 
a file.  The men took command of Larissa again.  Bridget, grinning, stepped 
up beside me.  Amber walked between Erika and Sherry. 
         We went forward toward the hole at the pool�s far end.  Water 
sluiced quietly between our legs as we put ourselves farther from the 
shore at our rear.  As we did, the water grew higher around our bodies.  It 
rose to my knees.  Then to my thighs.
         �No!  It�s cold!  I�ll get my pussy wet if I walk any farther out,� 
Amber told Erika.
         �Yes, dear.  You�ll be swimming in a moment,� Erika answered.  Her 
voice was calm.  
         �But my hands are tied!� Amber protested.
         �So?  Use your feet,� Erika said.  
         �You like wiggling, don�t you?� Sherry said.

         They made us go forward, despite the water.  I felt myself sink 
deeper and deeper into the pool.  The water rose on my body until it lapped 
at my waist.  Then my ribs.  Then my breasts, supporting them.  Finally my 
nipples were submerged.
         And then my shoulders!  My neck thrust above the water like the last 
hope of a giraffe in a flood.  Behind me, Amber complained that she 
couldn�t stretch her �tippie toes� any farther.  
         Larissa let out a shriek.
         �No!  I�ll drown!� I heard her cry.  
         �Forward!� Jim yelled.  �You must swim across.  It is only a few feet 
for you.�  
         Like gasping puppies, we made the crossing.  My eyes bulged.  My lips 
sought.  I sucked in air no less precious because it was from between the 
walls of rocks.  We emerged wet on the other side, and frightened.  If they 
could do that to us, what wouldn�t they dare?
         �You did it.  Life is a challenge,� Bridget told me.  She kissed my 
cheek.  She was happy for my success.  I was simply scared.  
         �Now let�s go up into the hole,� Jeff said to Larissa.  He pointed to a 
small set of steps in front of her.  She mounted them.  I watched her feet 
go up them, one by one.  Then she stood atop the makeshift stairs and 
looked inside.
         �Ohhh, it�s scary in here!� Larissa said.  She drew back.  She looked 
over her shoulder at me.  I stood behind her, waiting to climb the stairs 
after her.  �Hold your breath,� she said.  �We�re about to get what�s coming 
to us.�
         I felt a chill at the end of my spine.  I gazed into her eyes.  She 
nodded, briefly.  Then she turned away.  I felt the cheeks of my fanny 
tighten.  

         �Yes, it is quite the place to bring a young woman, isn�t it?� Erika 
said.  We stood in a bare rock room, with a flat floor.  Someone had taken 
care to ensure that all the roof�s stalactites had been shorn away.  I gazed 
at the walls.  At the ceiling.  All the room�s surfaces had been smoothed 
so that they possessed a kind of regular uniformity.  We were in a square 
chamber, deep inside the mountain.  We were in a place where man�s hand 
had definitely intervened.  No one could mistake it for a natural formation.  
It had a flat roof, a flat floor, square corners.  This room, despite being 
hewn from living rock, was intended to reflect the best man�s discipline 
had to offer.  No matter how beautiful the natural rock may have originally 
been.  All the earth�s natural variation was broken and sanded and swept 
clean.  It was as if we were in a box.
         What the box contained was even scarier.  My throat was raw from 
the way I�d screamed upon seeing it all.  Whips, chains, implements of 
harm everywhere!  Yet intermingled with it too, as if the two might be 
fitted together, were items of pure luxury.  Bath soaps, piled in a corner, 
next to a bubbling jaccuzzi.  Pillows, a teddy bear, tubes of oils and rolls 
of condoms.  This was truly a weird room.  And it was large, too.  Able to 
accomodate twice our number in any imaginable style, be it the pain of an 
inquisition or the soft nursing touch of a mother tending a newborn.
         �Yes girls, you may have a bath or confess your sins,� Bridget told 
myself and the rest.  �I�ve done both here.  And not too long ago,� she 
added.  She placed a quick hand to her own fanny.  �But today its your turn.  
You are, after all, our newest friends.  And we can�t just let you into our 
secret without exacting a price.�  She looked at Jim.  He grinned.  She 
smiled and glanced at Amber.  �You too, dear.  Nothing�s free.�
         �Kids under 10 are,� Amber countered.  Her eyes were wider than if 
she�d seen a ghost.  But I saw her nipples were stiff, all the same.  Just 
like mine.  Was her snatch wettening like mine was, too?  Why?  Oh, I 
didn�t know!  But something had drawn us here, and now we were going to 
find out about it.
         �So?  You�re not 10.  Quit bringing up irrelevancies,� Bridget told 
Amber.  �All day long you�ve whined and complained and needed to tell us 
all something more.  About yourself, of course.  Well you�ll tell plenty 
here, little Bitch Babe.  Plenty you�ll be glad your mommie doesn�t find out 
about when I finally see you off at the end of the weekend.�
         �That wouldn�t be...� Amber began, but she seemed to lose her voice 
in her thoughts and we found ourselves in silence.  There was not much to 
hear in the depths of the cave.   
         �Look how perky all three of you are,� Sherry smiled.  Her eyes 
passed over the tips of my breasts to Amber�s teats, then to Larissa�s.  
�Aren�t you frightened you might lose your sweet nipples in a room like 
this?  Well, you�re right.  You won�t.  You don�t have a thing to worry about 
as long as you do just as you are told.  Always remember girls, whenever 
you�re here, it�s good behavior that counts more than anything else.  I 
learned to be very, very good here.  That�s why I cook so well!�  She 
laughed.  She looked at Bridget.  �Did you like my breakfast, girls?� she 
asked us when her eyes returned to ours.  All three of us, myself, Amber, 
and Larissa, nodded vigorously.
         I was aware of my naked breasts bulging out brazenly in front of me.  
I wanted to cover them.  But I kept my hands by my side.  Bridget had 
searching eyes, eyes that were looking for a pretext to begin our games.  
She scanned our faces, our bodies again.  More slowly, as if sizing each of 
us up.  I felt other eyes upon me.  My breasts were young and ripe and 
warm.  My nipples sought attention.  Beside me, Amber was no different.  I 
sensed a desire on our part to break free of our childish ways, to conceive, 
to nurse, to feed millions with our awkward, large, obvious breasts.  Our 
bosoms that were suddenly too big for the little girl bodies we still 
thought we carried with us.  Our paps had grown to teats and our �titties,� 
as they were briefly called, had ballooned into full-fledged, womanly 
breasts.  Now we stood revealing them, seeking permission to use them to 
console men, to breed with them, to offer ourselves as incubators for 
hungry newborns.  I felt a tightness in my belly.  It was empty.  It wished 
to be filled.  I squeezed the cheeks of my bottom.  I was ready.  Let them 
do what they might.  I would be brave.
         �My, how your mothers would remark at your attire!� Bridget 
laughed.  She glanced conspiratorially at Erika, then returned her eyes to 
us.  �Yes, such sweet little outfits,� Bridget remarked.  Her eyes fell on 
me.  �You�re collared, leashed, and your hands are tied behind your back,� 
she said.  �And such sweet panties!  But they hide so little, and you got 
them all wet crossing the lake.  And such company you keep!  Men with 
penises hard as rock.�  Bridget broke off her speech in mid-sentence and 
glanced around at the guys.  �Come here, gentlemen,� Bridget beckoned.  �I 
shall command us today.  Yes!  The victim can become the oppressor.  I 
know you�re all dangerous.  Do you think I can only receive?  No, I can 
deliver the pain also, and the pleasure.  So come, stand in a straight line 
over here, next to the girls.  There must be games, and contests, and 
ceremonies.  No wild orgies today.  Not yet, anyway.  We had our fun last 
night.  Now we should strive for more exacting pleasures.  After all, we 
are not animals, but human beings.
         To my surprise, all three men shambled over to where I stood with 
Larissa and Amber.  They looked us over, closely, and might have taken us 
right there, standing up or pushed to the floor, but Bridget let out a 
scream.
         �No!  No!  Stand in a straight line beside the girls!  You aren�t to fuck 
them!� Bridget protested.  The men left off their inspections and formed a 
line beside ours.
         �What is this, the fucking military?� Jim groused.
         �In a manner of speaking, yes,� Bridget answered.  Her eyes 
twinkled.  She surveyed the men�s dicks.  �My, what eager beavers,� she 
said.  �Or eager for beaver, as the case may be.�  Bridget cast her eyes 
across to Erika again, then to Sherry.  �We�ve got some heavy equipment 
here, girls.  Come look!  Better yet, let�s huddle.  We must decide what to 
do with it.�
         Amber leaned forward a little.  She gazed, her eyes growing quite 
huge in the process, at the line-up of penises beside her.  Jim�s was 
closest.  It throbbed with his pulse.  He grinned down at her.  She shrank 
from his gaze.  Yet, a moment later, she was sticking her neck out again, 
leaning forward and surveying the row of penises displayed so freely just 
to her left.
         Bridget and Sherry and Erika had formed a three-woman huddle.  I 
could just hear their whispering voices.  Sherry�s bottom stuck out 
invitingly toward us.  She waggled it aimlessly as she listened.  Bridget 
did most of the talking.
         When the huddle broke, the three woman gazed at us 
enthusiastically.  They had made plans for us.  For our bodies.  Their eyes 
passed to the men.
         �Ah, yes.  You three,� Bridget said.  �The sperm boys.  Well, we�re 
going to see just which of you has the strongest penis.�  She smiled.  
There was a sensusous glow in her eyes.  �We must shackle you, though.  
All three of you.  You�re men.  The simple ropes that bind the girls� wrists 
you might find a way of breaking.  So, no ropes for you, boys.  Heavy 
shackles, on your hands and feet.  But your penises will be given free 
reign.  In fact, they�ll be put through quite a few paces.  But I want you to 
focus, men.  Just on your dick.  forget your arms and legs.  Your past.  Your 
future.  You�ll be judged in here solely by what your penis can do.  Can it 
keep from shooting?  Can it hold out a minute?  Three?  We�ll see which of 
you explodes and which of you doesn�t.  Think of it this way, men.  You�re a 
sea captain.  But you don�t travel the ocean.  You travel in time.  Through 
time, minute by agonizing minute, until you reach �tommorrow.�  
         �That�s right,� Bridget continued.  �You must transport your precious 
cargo of sperm from one end of the night to the other.  Don�t lose it!  But 
don�t expect an easy ride, either.  You�ll see your poor Ship Penis smashed 
between the Goddesses Skylla and Charibdis.  They used their faces by the 
way.  They kissed, with a big male penis trapped between them.  
         �But don�t be too disappointed if you cum,� Bridget advised the men.  
�You can, after all, make more sperm, can�t you?  But be warned.  Don�t 
shoot casually.  I know there�s an upper limit on how much sperm you can 
produce in one night.  So hang on tight to what you�ve got.  There�ll be no 
let up in the action.  And at the end of the evening, when you�re ordered to 
discharge your cargo, your ejaculate will be weighed.  The man who shoots 
the most wins.�
         Bridget grinned.  She walked to a table and picked up a small golden 
scale.  It was made of gold.  It sparkled.  She held it aloft.  �Here�s the 
scale, gentlemen.  But we will only use it at the end of the evening.  Only 
your end of the night discharge will be weighed.  So do a good job keeping 
yourself in �til then, and you just might win.�
         I looked over at Amber to see her reaction to Bridget�s erotic 
soliloquy.  It gave me hot flashes but Amber, perhaps, was too immature 
to listen.  She was struggling with the rope that kept her hands securely 
behind her back.  Her body, just touching maturity, was utterly 
defenseless to whatever depredations might befall it.
         It was still possible to see her 9-year-old figure within the more 
curvaceous lines of her 12-year-old�s body.  I tried to picture her on a 
swing, jumping off, teasing a boy, running away (successfully).  I saw her, 
in my minds eye.  She was small of form.  She had long, golden hair.  A 
petite midriff with budding nipples topped breathtakingly long legs.  
Despite slim hips she had a provacative bottom.  When she felt sexy she 
tied a scarf around her neck.  Slowly, her belly button became revealed as 
the months slid past.  Then her shirt grew even smaller in relation to her 
growing body, exposing almost her entire tummy.  It grew tight upon her 
ballooning breasts.  It was her favorite shirt, with a Care Bear on it, but 
given her nude tummy and her ever-larger, shirt-moulded breasts, her 
mother finally had to insist that she not wear it anymore.  Too many men 
were drooling over her.  Even the previously chaste father of two next 
door.
         The men in our company were drooling.  But not, like a pervert, from 
the mouth.  Rather it was their elongated, sexually-charged penises which 
drooled.  Pre-cum.  The very description of this overabundance of male 
semiotic fluid sent a shiver up my spine.  Were they really to keep their 
seed all bottled up in their testicles for the entire night?  Pondering this, 
I realized that despite the different textures of condoms and sex toys, 
despite the differnent flavors of the various sexual aids on display, this 
room was not about pleasure.  Not primarily.  It was about testing.  
Pushing ourselves to the limit, sexually.  Testing ourselves against the 
room�s equipment and against each other.  It was, in the case of the 
equipment, an unequal contest.  Unfeeling machinery (and toys!) against 
raw flesh.  And not just anyplace on the body, but a test of one�s most 
sensitive parts.  The nipples.  The clitty.  The soft, expansive, and inviting 
roundness, pierced in its center by a small hole, of the bottom.  My 
derriere tightened against the inevitable; I would have one or more things 
up my ass before the night was over.  Seeing what was on display in this 
room, I guessed those who oversaw my denoument would choose 
uncomfortable things.  They would make me receive them.  They would 
make a game of it.
         As for testing ourselves against each other, I felt the contest was 
unequal in the case of Amber.  Still, she would have to ask to be relieved 
of her duties.  Perhaps even plead.  And despite her disconsolation at being 
tied, I didn�t yet sense a willingness on her part to back out.  If Amber 
were to back out, I might try it myself.  After all, she was 12 and I was 
only 13.  Yet as I licked my lips at Bridget�s soliloquy I felt infinitely 
more mature than Amber.  I felt a need for the men�s cocks.  She appeared 
to only feel a need to be untied.
         I thrust out my bosoms.  I gazed at my nipples, at their display, then 
looked sideways to see if any of the men were noticing my arousal.  They 
were not.  They were mesmerized by Bridgette, by her descriptions of 
what would be required of them in their denuded state, their cocks all 
stuck up and their balls balled up, straining for release.  Bridget, oddly, 
did notice me, however.  
         �Yes, dear, your nipples will be seen to,� she said.  She tossed back 
her straight black hair with a flick of her head.  She regarded my tits for a 
moment and then nodded to Erika.  The blonde stepped over to a shelf.  Her 
body was lean, athletic.  She had a jaunty air as she walked.  She picked up 
what looked like two jewelled clothespins and brought them over to me.  
On closer inspection I saw they were plastic, mounted with gems of cubic 
zirconium.
         �Have you worn nipple clamps before?� Erika asked me 
conversationally.  I shook my head �no�.  My hair streamed back and forth in 
front of me with my urgent denial.  �Hold still, then,� Erika told me.  
�They shouldn�t hurt too badly.�
         �Oh, please don�t,� was all I could muster in words.  I wished to 
retract my nipples but they were febrile with lust.  I watched, swallowed, 
as the first of my tender pink points was clamped.
         �Oh!  It stings!� I cried.  It felt like a bee had stung my right breast.  
It didn�t let go.
         �Of course it produces a certain... feeling,� Erika replied.  Lightly she 
brushed a fingertip over my other nipple to ensure that it was fully 
extended.  I felt wet in my slit, still wearing my panties, and yearned for 
a more substantial, and less painful bra.
         �Ooooch!� I cried out.  The other clamp was applied to my left tit.  It 
bit into me mightily and made tears spring from my eyes.  �How long must 
I wear these?� I asked in a panicked voice.
         �Why, you will be proud to display them on your most intimate parts 
until permitted to do otherwise, of course,� Erika answered.  Woefully I 
turned my head to the men.  I had their attention now.  Jim smiled.
         �You�ll survive,� Jim said to me laconically.
         �I don�t feel like I can!� I answered frantically.  
         �Hang bells upon her titties,� Bridget commanded Erika.  �That will 
increase her pride of ownership.�
         �Ohhhh!  I�m not a cow!� I answered.  But Erika, impressed with the 
idea, went to the shelf that had borne the clamps and returned with twin 
metal bells.  They were small, silver, suspended from threads.  She used 
small clips at the pointed end of my clamps to affix the bells.  I shivered.  
A silvery sound tinkled from my breast buds.  My bosoms, despite their 
mature size, had been reduced to trinkets.  
         Worse awaited the men.  A straw was inserted into the pee hole of 
each man�s penis.  Rubberized thread was fitted behind the flange of his 
cockhead so that the straw woudn�t pop out.  Then each man was 
encouraged to drink large volumes of water.  It was proffered to them by 
the ladies; the men drank in a manner reminding me, at least, of horses.  
Each of their mouths supped at a shared bottle while their hands remained 
conveniently bound and out of the way.
         �Yes, you will pee through the straws,� Bridget told the men.  �It 
will be like a human fountain, watching you.  A penis fountain.  And you�ll 
all pee together, of course.  To make the fountain more interesting.�
         While the men were being fitted with cock-straws, Erika explained 
to Amber and Larissa and myself the rules of a devilish game.  There was a 
collection of padded wooden trestles.  Each was a foot wide.  But one end 
of each trestle was lower than the other.  Picture, if you must, six 
sawhorses.  With wide tops.  The top of each is covered in leather.  But the 
top doesn�t go straight across, horizontally, as with a normal sawhorse.  
Instead, it is angled downward.  Rather like a slide.  A kitten might 
mistake these sawhorses for playground slides, in fact, and slide down 
each one.
         However, despite the soft leather padding covering the top of each 
sawhorse/slide, it had an ominous aspect to it.  Near the �falling-off� end 
of each sawhorse/slide, a large dildo pushed up through the leather 
padding.  It stuck up straight and Erika explained to us that it was our job, 
as girls, to race from sawhorse/slide to sawhorse/slide and shove the 
penis up each of our asses.  Conveniently, perhaps, the dildo mounted on 
each of the sawhorses varied in size from sawhorse to sawhorse.  The 
nearest sawhorse bore a small dildo, the size of a boy�s penis.  The middle 
sawhorses held man-sized dildos.  But the final sawhorses each held a 
dildo fit for a perverted queen.  Huge, and ominous.  
         �Only the biggest and best for you, hmmmm, girls?� Erika teased.  
�We�ll proceed one at a time.  You�ll each be timed.  The girl who can shove 
each dildo up her ass in the minimum amount of time wins.�
         �I-I can�t possibly take such a huge thing!� Amber protested.
         �There might be a small dispensation for you, Amber, if you try your 
very best,� Erika answered.  She walked up to myself and Larissa.  She 
poked a finger into each of our tummies.  I didn�t giggle.  I was too scared.  
My bosoms heaved, though, against the sudden intrusion into my flesh, and 
their nipple-hung bells tinkled.  �As for you two,� Erika said to Larissa 
and I, �You�ll be expected to take the full length.�  She smiled.  �Again, it�s 
effort that�s most important, just like with Amber.  Effort and enthusiasm 
for doing the job.  Do you understand?�
         �Yes,� Larissa and I answered in quavering voices.  We sounded like 
small children agreeing, before a long car ride, to be good.
         �Fine,� Erika said.  �Don�t worry.  I�ll jam plenty of lubricant up your 
asses before we begin.�  She tugged on one of my breast-borne bells.  
�Come.  I want each of you to place your chin comfortably on the high end 
of a sawhorse.  Bend over, spread your stance, and give your chin a rest.  
Hmmm?  So I can drill into your behinds with cream-laden fingers, of 
course!� 
         �Ohhh, I don�t want to,� Amber said.  She sounded, curiously, like a 
child in a candy shop, I thought, disagreeing with the choice of candy but 
not with having a sweet tooth.  Erika gazed at her, Bridget too.  Then they 
glanced at each other.
         �I can see we�ll have to take care of you first,� Erika said, looking 
again at Amber.  She said it in a soft, knowing voice.  It sounded not the 
least bit threatening, just a statement.  But it was one she fully intended 
to carry out.  Amber shrank from her gaze.  Bridget licked her lips.
         �Alright, little Amber,� Bridget said.  She tossed back her jet-black 
hair.  Her sumptuous tits swayed, elegantly, as she walked with long-
legged grace to where the 12-year-old neophyte stood.  Gently Bridget 
cupped the girls� breasts.  They were so young, so tender, I wanted to dash 
forward to protect her from Bridget�s grasping hands.  Amber, her hands 
tied securely behind her back, her bosoms ripely displayed, uncovered, 
unprotected, gave out a small wail as Bridget suddenly squeezed down on 
her tits.
         �Yes, little one.  Sex can hurt as well as being pleasurable,� Bridget 
breathed.  She kissed the girl directly on her unwilling lips.  �Here you 
will learn, I hope, that it is a mixture of the two that gives one the 
greatest pleasure.  Hmmmm?� Bridget concluded her statement with a 
question mark, directed her gaze at Erika even as she held Amber�s tits 
tightly.
         �Mmmmm,� was all Erika said in reply.  She dipped her right hand 
into the front of her bikini panties.  She touched herself.  I watched as her 
nipples became stiffer.  Her fingers played in her slit.
         �I�m going to put you in the corner,� Bridget said to Amber.  The girl 
stiffened.  Bridget smiled.  �Unspanked.  With a white bottom,� Bridget 
assured her.  She let go of Amber�s breasts.  She glanced at the rest of us, 
both male and female.  All of us who were captives.  �Please turn around,� 
she said to us.  Walk to the wall and face into it.  The girls and I have 
some preparations to make.�  She fixed her gaze on me.  �Do not think your 
little race will be forgotten,� she said.  She glanced at Larissa, then back 
at me.  �In fact, as you stand facing the wall, think of me, squeezing 
vaseline up your ass, for your own good, your own protection.�  She 
laughed.  �And you thought your health class was a pain-- in the ass.�
         Erika took hold of me.  She turned me around so that I faced the wall.  
She brushed back my blonde hair and, leaning in to me from behind, 
whispered, �Don�t worry, I�ll see that Bridget doesn�t mistreat you.�
         I was shoved forward then, by Erika, as if to make up for what she�d 
just said.  So that Bridget wouldn�t suspect?  I stumbled and made my way 
forward across the bare floor to the wall.  Something fell into the water 
outside, beyond our big stone cell.  I listened to the splash, wondered at it.  
Did something live in the water we�d just crossed through?  We still had 
to go back.  And we had nothing on, save our soon-to-be-removed little 
panties. 
         The men, already naked at the hips, had the straws pulled from their 
cocks.  Bridget assured the men that they�d soon be bedecked by the 
straws again.  At the moment, though, more important matters beckoned.
         �Be submissive for a little while, and let me handle all our affairs,� 
Bridget said to the men.  They complied.  I felt it was strange to see them 
so visibly eager, yet so docile.  But they were, and that sealed my fate.  
Only they knew I was being held captive here.  But I could hardly be 
rescued if they were going to let themselves be made into slaves.  If they 
were submissive, I must be too.  I tried to accept my fate.  I stared at the 
stone wall.  It was implacable.  Facing it, I could see back into the 
centuries.  But at the same time I was prevented from seeing what was 
happening in �real time�, right behind me!   
         We were put in a straight line, like soldiers at revielle, against the 
wall.  Three males stood to my left, presenting their erections to the bare 
stone.  The girls made them press the tips of their penises to the wall.  
Nick, who�d brought us, farthest from me.  Then Jim, whom I had a crush 
on.  And finally, uselessly close, since I had no interest in him, was 
Walter.  Perhaps I�d have sex with him, given our undressed state, but it 
would not be �making love�.  It would simply be sex. 
         Next to me, on my right, stood Larissa.  She shivered at what lay 
ahead for us.  I watched, briefly, her boobies, her bottom, as she stood 
facing in to the wall.  It was like gazing at fresh jello.  She was curvy and 
cute.  Beside her stood the ever-desirable Amber.  She was placed in one 
of the room�s four corners.  She stood contritely, her legs straight, her 
back stiff.  She was being reprimanded for nothing, save her desire to 
preserve her innocence in the face of such awful depravity.  I admired her 
courage in speaking up.  Then, with her hands softly grasping my neck, 
Erika turned my head so that I was forced to look at the wall in front of 
me.
         �Behave,� Erika told me.  �Don�t give Bridget an excuse to spank you.  
God knows, she�s good at inventing reasons.  You dont need to provide her 
with extra incentives.�

         Time passed.  I heard activity behind us but only managed half-
glances to my left or right.  I didn�t wish to be punished.  Not any more, at 
least, than was already planned.  I shivered.  I felt the cheeks of my 
bottom press together.  My ass crack became a slim, delicate line.  Oh, how 
I wished I could take everything back now.  Both my promises to them and 
to myself.  I would be little again, just a small girl, in the swing in her 
front yard.  Alone.  Protected by her daddy.  Strangely, thinking of my 
father made me more aroused.  I wished, suddenly, to fling myself upon the 
floor and dare Jim, despite his restraints, to plunge himself into me.  But 
the party was all about waiting.  Denial.  We were being inflated like 
balloons, stretched, teased.  Last night was for fun, today was for 
something else.  I wasn�t sure what.  Penance... for our fun?
         We were permitted to turn around.  Or perhaps we were commanded.  
Bridget�s clear voice sounded in the quiet room.  We obeyed.  When we 
faced out into the room, I saw some things had changed.  Bridget was 
without panties.  Her pussy showed its soft curls.  Lightly she stroked 
within it, using her fingers.  They were gloved.  The gloves covered just 
her fingers, her hands.  Nothing more.  They were made of black silk.  It 
was patterned with designs.  There was a large silk bow attached to the 
back of each of her gloves.  Upon her thighs, stockings rose above her 
knees.  They were of the same material as the gloves.  Each had a big bow 
on it, hung from the outside of her stockinged thigh, at its apex, as if she 
were a Christmas tree in need of decoration.
         Except for a scarf, tied tightly around her throat, matching her 
gloves and her stockings, Bridget was naked.  I gazed at her lily-white 
skin with amazement.  Her cherry tits poked up at me from across the 
room, inviting me to sample them.  Involuntarily, I licked my lips.  She 
caught the movement of my tongue and smiled.
         �Come, we must have our afternoon tea before you are punished,� 
Bridget said to me.  Her voice was gay.  She was in total command.  I was 
but a leaf, blown by the wind.  Larissa was the head of a dandelion.  Amber 
was but a puff of pollen.  Bridget, despite her nudity, held a big, 
demanding-looking horse whip in her hand.  It had multiple thongs.  Each 
bore, at its tip, a small jewel.  I wondered if they were real, or fake like 
the gems hung from my nipples.
         �Oh, this whip is quite valuable,� Bridget said.  �Much more so than 
your ass, I can assure you.�
         Assured that we would be punished with only the finest of 
implements, we allowed ourselves to be led over to a table set out for tea.  
The china pot holding the tea looked delicate; blue with swirls of bird-
shaped color on it.  The cups, exactly the correct number for our group, 
matched the pot.  Bridget seated herself at the table and put me on her 
knee.  Erika took Amber.  Sherry, better endowed than any of us, sat 
Larissa in her lap.  My friend, inexplicably, snuggled up against Sherry�s 
big mother-like tits and seemed to wish to nurse at them.
         �Oh, she wishes to have milk with her tea!� Sherry laughed.  She 
guided Larissa�s mouth to her nearest teat and began suckling the girl.  Of 
course, she wasn�t pregnant, Larissa could get nothing but comfort from 
Sherry�s tits.  But she sucked lustily anyway, and I envied the relative 
safety of Sherry�s lap, compared to the lap I sat in, that of the Vampire-
like Bridget.
         �Would you like a taste of my tit?� Erika asked Amber.  She took the 
girl�s chin and pressed it close to her bosoms.
         �No, I--� Amber began.  But then, seeing how relaxed Larissa looked, 
despite our situation, she suddenly grabbed Erika�s nearest tit begween 
her teeth and began sucking furiously.
         �Oh, hungry baby!� Erika said, startled.  She gasped out a sigh.  �Yes, 
feed, suck all you please,� Erika said.  I did not pay Bridget the same 
compliment.
         How embarrassing it would be for one girl to suck another�s tits in 
the normal, everyday world!  Yet here all was different.  I was being 
served tea, in delicate cups, yet my bottom must be scourged, and plied 
with vaseline, so I could partake of wicked games ramming dildos up my 
unwilling ass.  I gazed at the men.  They knelt round the table, showing us 
their penises.  Their nude promise was my only reason for not screaming 
out at once that I must be let go, released, sent home like the little girl I 
felt, deep down, I still was.  Oh, to be impaled on such cocks!  Even 
Walter�s took my breath away, if I let myself concentrate just on his 
member.  They were all well-hung, and desperate, and I was wet to receive 
them.  It�s most unfeminine to discuss one�s feelings in such matters but, 
reduced to a pair of wet panties, I couldn�t help but think of giving myself 
to their lust.  They would take me, in any case.  I had no doubt of that.  
Bridget�s games were only a way station to a ravaged fulfillment at their 
hands.
         �You must drink your tea in a ladylike manner,� Bridget advised me.  
I sipped.  I gasped, not at the heat of the tea, but because as I leaned 
forward to take a sip, my breasts tinkling with the bells hung upon them, 
Bridget pressed a finger between my legs.  She began massaging my slit 
with it.  �Keep your legs open,� she reminded me.  �Always you must be 
ready for whatever might transpire.�
         It was difficult to drink my tea with Bridget diddling her finger in 
my slit.  Beside me, I heard Amber gasp as the same trick was performed 
on her sex.  And Larissa, who had found Sherry�s breasts so comfy, so 
reassuring, nonetheless was suffered to entertain her host�s digit in her 
pussy.
         The men had accepted being bound and facing into the wall.  Now, 
kneeling before us, watching us have tea, I could guess at their reason for 
remaining compliant.  Just beyond the tea table lay a large bed.  It was a 
bed on wheels and our Mistresses of Crime, Sherry and Bridget and Erika, 
had taken advantage of the wheels on the big bed to roll it right up to our 
tea table.  It waited, like a promise, its covers already drawn back.  It was 
beautifully outfitted, with satin sheets and matching pillows.  But I saw, 
as did each of the other girls, gazing at it, cords upon the bed.  They were 
black.  There was one tied to each bedpost.  I could guess their use; one of 
us, at least, was to be tied into the bed after we were done with our 
delicate tea cups and our feminine party.  We might sip like ladies, but we 
would howl, I surmised, like banshees on that bed.  Would we be tied face 
down?  Face up?  I guessed it would be with legs wide apart, for the cords 
at the bed�s footboard were widely separated.  The cords at the headboard 
had the same amount of distance between them.  Spread-eagled.  That was 
it, I saw.  But still I didn�t know whether it would be belly-down or 
pussy-up.  I trembled.  My trembling made the bells on my breasts shake.
         �Oh, my!  It�s way past little Amber�s bedtime,� Erika said with a 
smirk when we�d all drunk our fill of tea.  We girls, those of us who were 
captives, had been made to drink tea till our tummies were sloshing.  The 
men got nothing, just watched, on their knees.  Amber, hearing her name, 
sighed with relief that she would have to drink no more tea.  But at the 
same time her head shot up, worriedly, her neck straightening out, for she 
had seen the cords.
         �I�m not sleepy!� Amber said.  �But I will have to pee soon.�
         �Then tonight�s a good night for you to learn bladder control,� Erika 
said.  She patted Amber�s head solicitously.
         �Indeed,� Bridget agreed.  Frantically Amber looked at me, then at 
the men.  I was sympathetic but the men were not.  Their eyes glowed at 
the prospect of seeing little 12-year-old Amber tied down to the bed with 
a tummy full of tea.
         �Yeek!� Amber cried.  She struggled.  It was no use.  Erika was tawny 
and athletic and handled the girl easily.  It only made Amber look more 
childish to protest.  A minute later, Amber was tied to the bed.  Her back 
pressed to it, her face looked pleadingly up at us.  Bridget, standing over 
the bed, admiring her, reached out and stroked the girl between her split-
apart legs.  �Oh!  You shall make me have to pee!� Amber said.  I marvelled 
out how, despite her full belly, her tummy actually sank below the level of 
her ribs.  She was young, thin, with long, coltish legs, slim thighs, a 
childish face.  Only her bosoms gave her away as being something other 
than a girl in primary school.  They ballooned on her chest like ripe, round 
fruit, a twin pair, each sprouting a nipple at its tip.  I found myself 
desiring to lick her cherry-tipped nipples and lick her cunny with my 
tongue until it wet me.
         It was good that my hands were tied behind me.  I would have 
fingered my slit, impulsively, gazing at such a young, tender creature, 
spread out before me.  Erika wasn�t restrained.  She indulged herself with 
a finger up her cunt.  Bridget did the same, as did Sherry.  
         �Oh, how sweet she looks!  I should wish to nurse her and protect her 
and make her my own child!� Sherry exclaimed, both her motherly and 
sexual instincts aroused simultanously as she looked at poor vulnerable 
Amber.  The men, wickeder in their plans, were kept from massaging their 
aching pricks, or from pouncing upon her.
         �At least I still have my panties on!� Amber said.  Her voice was 
rueful.  She didn�t like being tied up and yet, I sensed, she was not utterly 
averse to being the center of attention.  We were all staring at her, 
admiring every curve of her young, newly grown body.  She had no reason 
for embarrassment, she was tied up, and could no more have prevented our 
admiration than if she�d been a babe in a crib.  We blew kisses to her, we 
complimented her, we spoke of her tits as if they were mounds of delight 
and wished for a body as slim as hers.  Despite her bonds, she blushed.  
Then she wiggled and complained that she needed to visit the toilet.
         �Oh, I�m afraid they forgot to put one in down here,� Bridget said, 
with false sadness.  �Morning�s not too far away.  Sleep tight.  And don�t 
pee in your nice new satin sheets or Daddy will give you quite a whaling 
for ruining them.  Not to mention your Mommie.�
         �I can�t-- I have to go NOW!� Amber declared.  She wriggled her hips 
violently.  Erika laughed.  Bridget smiled, and displayed the multi-thonged 
whip to the girl�s eyes.  �Please!� Amber cried.  Her eyes grew big as 
saucers.  Her pretty thighs tried to clamp upon each other but they were 
wide-spread and firmly held by the cords.  �Ohhh, this is awful!� Amber 
said at last, resigned to her fate and knowing it would cost her dearly 
when her pee came spurting from her panty-clad nether lips.
         �Tickle!  Tickle!  Tickle!� Erika said.  She didn�t even have to touch 
the girl to make fear run up her spine and her mouth gape.  When she did, 
Amber writhed like a small snake on the bed and howled.
         �Noooooo!  You�ll make me peeeeeee!� Amber begged.  The men 
laughed at the outrageousness of it all.
         �Don�t wet your panties!� Jim cried.
         �Perhaps she�d prefer that I eat them for her?� Walter said.
         �No!  Panties are for wearing, not for eating!� Amber shouted.  Erika 
continued to tease her.  The girl wrestled against her cords but couldn�t 
escape.
         �Tinkle, tinkle, Little Star-let,� Erika sang in a lilting voice.  At the 
same time, Bridget, reminding the girl of what awaited if she gave into 
her natural impulses, dangled the gem-encrusted whip over the girl�s face.
         �Oh!  The jewels are so beautiful!� Amber cried.  She gazed at them 
with childish wonder.  And then it happened.  Staring at the whip, working 
her hips against the diddling intrusing of Erika�s fingers, Amber suddenly 
began peeing.  We saw the crotch of her panties suddenly wetten.  Then the 
fluid escaped her lovely, stretched-tight garment and flooded the bed 
between her legs and under her bottom.  
         �Ooooooeeeeeek!� Amber blurted.  I don�t think she could believe, any 
more than I actually could, that she�d wet the bed.  She wriggled, trying to 
stop.  It was no use.  Her legs were tied in a wide vee and she, feminine 
creature though she was, had tea in her belly that was yearning to get out.  
And so it did.  She made a big, wet spot right in the center of the satin-
covered bed.  When she finally shuddered to a conclusion she lay gazing at 
us with fear-struck eyes.
         �Oh, my.  My, my.  Poor Amber,� Bridget said.  �Such a mess you�ve 
made, girl!�
         �I didn�t know a little girl like her could hold so much pee in her 
bladder,� Erika remarked.  
         Amber began crying.
         �Shhhh, we are only playing,� Sherry said.  She leapt onto the bed, 
next to Amber�s head, where the pee had not, fortunately reached.  She 
glanced at the girl�s hips, where there was a big stain, then back at her 
face.  She stroked the girl�s cheek.  Amber�s sobs softened.  She began to 
hiccup.
         �Hold your breath,� Sherry told her.  �No hiccuping allowed in the 
dungeon.�
         �You must put sugar under my tongue if I�m - hiccup! - s�posed to 
stop -hiccup!- hiccuping,� Amber told her.
         �Lick my cunt.  It�s sweet,� Sherry said.  She straddled the girl.  I 
watched as her big bottom settled over Amber�s chin.  It swallowed it up 
in its divide, leaving only her neck showing.  I watched as Amber�s neck 
strained and then, to my surprise, moving forward slightly, I saw Amber 
sticking out her tongue to lick the woman�s snatch.  A hiccup seized 
Amber.  Then, when it had passed, she began to dutifully lick at Sherry�s 
slit.
         �Oh!� Sherry cried, delighted.  Her large bosoms shook on her chest.  
Amber�s body sighed.  Perhaps she hoped to avoid a whipping by bringing 
plasure to one of her tormentors.  Sherry clapped her hands behind Amber�s 
head.  She lifted it from the bed.  She begged the girl to tongue her more 
deeply.
         Amber obeyed.  She licked for all she was worth as we gazed at her 
slim, alluring form, at its suppleness, its lightness, and at the pee-soaked 
panties which wreathed her hips.  Mostly she was just skin and bones, 
save for her sumptuous young titties.  She was a perfect, albeit junior-
sized Barbi, laid out for our pleasure, naughtily wet between her 
flamingo-like legs.
         �Ah, if only we could all be as young and innocent as she,� Bridget 
said in the very first of her heartfelt statements of the evening.  She let 
the whip dangle aimlessly from her fingers.  
         �She is truly lovely,� Erika agreed.  �Young, but lovely all the same.�
         The men made less gallant comments.  You�d have thought you were 
in a restroom, listening to them.
         When Sherry had taken her pleasure, she dismounted, rather 
blushingly and awkwardly, from Amber�s face.  She stood beside me.  She 
kissed my cheek.  �One to be punished, and the other yet to be tested,� she 
said, apparently in reference to Amber and myself.  Larissa, forgotten, 
shrank back from the women, hoping not to be missed.  Jeff grinned at her.
         �Don�t forget Larissa,� he said.
         �Ohhhh, you!� Larissa scolded.  Sherry laughed.
         �So many newcomers to be put to the test, I forgot my favorite 
nurseling.�  She walked over to the girl, oblivious to her own wet, post-
orgasmic snatch, and pressed my friend to her.  Larissa resisted, then 
relented.  She tilted her head down and kissed Sherry�s right bosom.
         �Please, help yourself.  My body is yours,� Sherry offered.
         �Mmmmm, thanks,� Larissa replied.  She nibbled at a tit, perhaps 
thought of biting it, then finally settled on sucking it instead.  Sherry 
gasped with pleasure.  The men, watching, made desperate comments 
about our beauty and their need to fuck it.
         Amber was untied from the bed.  Gently she was helped to her feet.  
She stood contritely, eyeing the many-thonged whip.  She let the women 
pat her head.  I admired her panties.  They were still lovely, despite being 
peed in.  I looked at the wet spot in the satin sheets of the bed.  It was her 
mark.  Her sign that she had been there.  
         �It is time for your torture,� Bridget said to Amber.  The girl 
swallowed.
         �Pretend you are a heretic, and must be made to repent by the 
inquistion,� Bridget suggested.  Hardly helpful, I thought, a comment such 
as that.  It made butterflies rise in my tummy.
         Amber, however, merely, said,
         �What�s a hair-tic?�
         �Someone who believes bad things,� Erika replied.  She stroked the 
girl�s blonde mane.
         �Well, I don�t believe bad things, but I certainly *do* them,� Amber 
answered.  She shivered.  I felt a sense of shock run through me.  Was she 
being complicit?
         �Yes, yes you do,� Bridget agreed.  �But I should so love it if you�d be 
a little heretic, and need to confess something,� Bridget said.  She stroked 
her jewel-tipped whip up the back of the girl�s thighs, then over her 
pantied ass, making the girl quiver.  Her unadorned nipples jiggled upon her 
breasts.  My own bosoms, weighted down by the clips, shook out a quick 
jingle as I felt a shudder run through me.
         �Well I s�pose I could think of something bad and then confess to 
thinking that,� Amber said.  She popped a finger contemplatively between 
her lips.  I watched, stunned, thinking she ought to run while she was 
untied, her hands and feet free.  She could dart out of the dungeon and, 
despite the splash of whatever I�d heard outside, probably swim to safety.  
Instead, the attention she�d gotten, or something, made her stay, rooted 
next to the bed, thinking of bad things to think, while the women, 
beguilingly, paid her the utmost attention.  I wondered why she was not 
simply put over at once and punished.  Bridget was strange, with her black 
hair and sleek, Vampire�s body.  She promised tortures, then skipped them, 
keeping all of us, including me, on tenterhooks about what must happen to 
us next.  The men, conveniently bound, ached to spend.  I gazed at their 
hard cocks and would have dived to the floor to have them, or onto the 
pee-stained bed, but knew they�d only consider me a slut for doing it, for 
giving myself to them, and so I waited for direction from Bridget instead.  
We all waited.  She, I think, indulged herself minute by minute, with no 
plan save her own personal pleasure.
         �What was the first boy you ever did it with?� Bridget asked.
         �Oh!  I could never tell that!� Amber said.  There was a serious look 
on her face.  Despite all she�d been through, she�d suddenly placed in a 
postion where she was not about to give.
         Of course, that gave Bridget just the entry she was currently looking 
for.
         �Then you must tell us,� Bridget said.  �And be tortured if you don�t.�
         �What?!  It�s-- It�s my secret, and mine alone,� Amber protested.  
She looked up at Bridget with her pug nose and her eyes defiant.  �Who did 
*you* do it with first, hmmmm?� she asked.
         �I asked first,� Bridget replied smoothly.
         �Oh!  I�m not telling!� Amber cried.  For in that moment Erika, 
sensing an opportunity, had picked the 12-year-old up, and tossed her with 
a lithe, quick movement over her shoulder.  Amber�s slim legs kicked.  
Erika laughed.  The woman�s bosoms shook and Amber�s tits, hanging down, 
brushed over Erika�s.  Both females grew more aroused, but it did not keep 
Erika from hauling little Amber into the depths of the dungeon.
         She was plopped down, wet panties and all, next to a medieval rack.  
Amber�s eyes widened.  �I learned about these in school,� she said.  �In 
hist�ry.�  Reverentially she ran her fingers along the surface of the rack.  
It was a wooden machine but someone had taken the trouble of padding the 
bed of the rack, where the victim was to lie, with leather.  The leather 
was well-polished.
         Amber gazed at the chains waiting to bind hand and foot at either 
end of the rack.  The links looked old, as if used many times.  But their 
weakest link had not yet been found.  Amber�s bosoms stood out from her 
chest, all round and perky.  Her tummy dipped inward, just under her ribs, 
and above her hips, giving her the look of being underfed.  At her waistline 
her legs began, stretching in slim columns down to her dainty feet.  Her 
wet panties clung to her hips.  From the front I could see a few stray 
wisps of her pubic hair where they escaped out the top of her too-small 
panties.  From behind, I saw most of her bottom, left uncovered by the 
undies.  Yet Bridget commented that she would have to lie nude upon the 
rack.
         �We must bare ourselves before our Lord,� Bridget said.  Erika 
nodded, but had to put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.  The men 
looked on with hungry eyes.  They would not save Amber from whatever 
she got herself into.
         �Be careful, Amber,� I thought to myself.  She was getting 
marvelous amounts of attention, but she was entirely on her own, and neck 
deep in uncharted waters.  Did she really wish to play a heretic in the 
Inquisition?
         �Oh, I�ve had many bad thought,� Amber said reflectively.
         �Mmmm, I know you have,� Bridget agreed.  She patted the girl�s 
bottom with her hand.  Amber shivered.  She gazed again at the big chains 
mounted at the head and foot of the rack.  At the large, spoked wheel that 
would, or could, be used to stretch her to pieces if she should be unlucky 
enough to find herself bound down upon the leather bed of the device.  And, 
gazing to the wall beyond, she saw several metal saws.  They hung 
innocuously from the wall, but one was reminded, upon seeing them, of 
magical shows where poor girls have to get themselves cut in half.
         Amber sat her pantied bottom down on the leather bench.  
         �Oh, I think I�m having a bad thought right now,� Amber confessed to 
Bridget.  The black-haired woman laughed.
         �You�re not to confess so soon,� she said.  She gave a flick of her 
whip.  It�s jeweled tips struck her thigh, lightly, but making her wince.
         �What-- what should I do then?� Amber asked, wide-eyed.
         �Tell us the name of the boy you first did it with,� Erika suggested.
         �Oh, no.  Not that!� Amber said, quite seriously.
         �Then we have our answer,� Erika said to Bridget.
         �Yes,� Bridget agreed.
         �But it would be too embarr--� Amber began.  She was seized by 
both women, head and foot, and shoved down onto the bed of the machine.  
�Yook!� she cried, and quite honestly, I think, as she felt her wrists and 
feet made fast to the device.  When her screams had subsided, and the 
women stepped back to admire their handiwork, Amber was once again 
stretched out for us, this time on something that could make her shout 
much more urgently than tickling her ever had.  I found myself shaking, 
could do nothing to stop it.  The bells on my bosoms jingled.  Bridget told 
me to quiet myself or I�d be punished.  That was fruitless.  It simply made 
me more nervous, and my tits noisier.  Bridget ignored my tinkling titties 
for the moment, but my heart sank, for now I�d earned my stripes, so to 
speak, and knew I stood little chance of not having them applied.  My ass 
burned with the memory of my previous encounter with the whip.  Its mark 
was gone now, but hardly forgotten.
         As if in anticipation of my transgression, and my need to be reproved 
for it, male fingers grasped at the drawstrings of my panties.  Quickly I 
turned my head.  My eyes darted back over my shoulder, fearful, seeking my 
assailant.  It was Jim!  He grinned.  I tried to suppress smiling in 
response, found I couldn�t.  Oh, why would I smile at a man intent on 
seeing me punished?
         �Jim, please...� I said.  My voice quavered.  I lost my thought as I felt 
his big fingers on my hips.  Gently he stroked my flaring thighs, savoring 
their bell shape, and the tiny bit of stringy cloth wrapped about them.  He 
did not pull my panties apart at once, but rather savored how delicately 
they clung to my hips, held there only by the feeblest of bow-tied strings.  
Gradually he began to draw upon the ties of my undies.  A tug.  Another.  A 
third, and I felt my panties begin to give way.  I gasped as they suddenly 
came undone.  They drooped.  They fell.  But a bit of the crotch material 
was caught in my snatch.  I looked down.  I saw my panties, untied, 
literally hanging by my cunt.  Jim eased a hand between my thighs.  He 
grasped the small panties.  He pulled.  They popped out of my sex and fell 
into his hand.  He took my panties from me.  I was left stripped completely 
nude, save for the collar around my throat, the leash clipped to it, and the 
metal handcuffs round my wrists.  Plus the devilish nipple clamps that bit 
at my titties.  I expected then to be raped, or at least pawed and molested 
by my manly thief.  Instead, he touched me not at all, leaving me to shiver 
in the nude, apprehensive, as Amber�s punishment continued.
         �Mmmm, nice,� I heard a female voice say, somewhere behind me.  I 
recognized it as Sherry�s.  Had she uncuffed Jim?  With three females in 
charge, there were endless possibilities.  I wished to turn, to beg her to 
untie me too, and most of all to get her away from Jim, so I could have 
him to myself.  Instead, worried about that jewel-encrusted cat o� nine 
tails that Bridget kept gaily swinging about, I kept myself attentive to 
her.  She was the most dangerous, in my opinion.  She was willing to 
suffer, and to cause others to suffer in turn.  And yet there was a certain 
intiguing quality in that.  Somewhere deep inside me I wished to be like 
her, to be willing to suffer and to inflict suffering.  Sexual suffering.  
Long, drawn out, exectued with the best intentions.  To give a strange kind 
of pleasure, mixed with just the right tang of pain.  Was pleasure 
heightened when there was pain sprinkled in with it?  I was beginning to 
fear it was, and that I was desiring just that for myself.  Oh, I was only 
13!  To have such thoughts at such a tender age!  Yet Amber, little seventh 
grader that she was, already had plumbed deeper depths.  She wished, it 
seemed, to have attention above all else, and was even willing to seek it 
from Bridget.  And from the randy men who, despite their bondage, or 
sometime bondage, were complicit in Bridget�s plans.  I drew closer to 
Amber, hoping perhaps to dissuade her, and thereby myself, from the 
wicked things we were falling into.  We would escape and be best friends 
together, she and I, and confine our adventures in the cave to picking 
flowers.  The magical flowers she�d spoken of when first I�d met her.  Yes.  
Just she and I.  We would hold hands and explore the cave safely together, 
fleeing at the first sign of danger.  Ah, but it was too late.  My legs 
bumped against the leather-covered rack where she lay.  I gulped.  It was 
too late, for us all.  We were captives, at the mercy of masters we barely 
knew.
         Amber gazed up at us with large, liquid eyes.  They looked like big, 
round marbles, searching for God.  She�d gotten her wish.  She was the 
perfect center of attention.  We all crowded round her; myself, with my 
jingling, bell-laden bosoms, Larissa (despite her desire to remain as 
unnoticed as possible), Sherry, with her bosoms big as pumpkins, hanging 
heavily on her chest and inviting, it seemed, a milking with their every 
savory bounce.  Next to her Erika, with her lanky, perfect body, beautiful 
yet surprisingly athletic.  Bridget, with her jewel-laden whip, sizing up 
the pretty victim she and Erika had laid out for us all to see.  I wished to 
clap my hands to my cheeks.  I wanted to cover my eyes, but due to my 
cuffs I was not able to.  Behind me I felt the throbbing cock of a man bump 
my bottom.  He crowded close to me.  I guessed it was Jim.  I gasped as his 
dick invaded between my heinie�s soft cheeks.  But he hardly noticed, it 
seemed.  He was eager to look past me, to see Amber.  She lay stretched 
out before us.  She quivered.  I gazed upon her figure.  She struck me as 
utterly vulnerable and yet, somehow, utterly safe.  Every nuance of her, 
every breath, was noted by the close-pressed group.  Nothing would happen 
to her, nothing would be permitted to happen, without the group�s 
approval.  One could only hope they would be kind to her, and that the pain 
they inflicted would be outweighed by pleasure.
         �Yes, little Amber, the rack.  To make you tell,� Bridget said in a 
soft, but ominous voice.
         �Oh no please don�t--� Amber said.  She wriggled upon the leather 
padding.  It was strange, seeing her lie there.  The leather padding was 
thick, comfy.  And yet she was stretched out upon it, tight-stretched, her 
hands and feet yanked to their limit.  
         Bridget swung the cat o� nine tails over Amber�s body.  The girl 
shivered.  She, truly, did not wish to tell us about her first love.  Yet she 
liked keeping a secret from us, that we might pay her the utmost 
attention.
         Bridget touched Amber�s belly with her fingertip.  Her nail gleamed 
against the soft skin.  She pressed it into the girl�s flesh.
         �Ooh!  You need to cut your nails,� Amber suggested.  She winced at 
the sharpness of the touch.  Her nipples stood rigid upon her plump, bare 
breasts.  
         Amber�s breath quickened as Bridget, still touching her skin, trailed 
her finger down to the girl�s waist.  Her panties clung there.  They were 
wet but still tied, still keeping her modest.
         �You must be nude before God on the rack,� Bridget said.  
         �No-- please, they are just--� Amber began, but Erika placed a stiff 
finger over her lips.
         �Shhhh,� Erika said.  �When you wish to tell, simply tell.  Otherwise, 
keep quiet.  Not a peep.  We have gags for girls who...� Erika couldn�t help 
laughing.  �Pee.�
         Strangely, Amber grew quiet.  There was no sense in pulling her 
panties down.  Her legs were spread and the panties would have been 
stretched beyond their limit in no time.  Instead, they had to be untied, or 
simply ripped off.  Bridget grasped the white bows that formed the 
panties� drawstrings.  I marvelled at how much of Amber�s bikini, very 
similar to my own, was simply string; drawstring.  Tied into a bow at her 
hips.  Only where her triangle of venus grew was there a patch of cloth, 
and then only just a swatch, as if the tailor permitted it simply to rid 
himself of a useless scrap.  The same was the case in back, where her 
bottomcheeks were left to hang freely, save for what little the 
overstressed cloth could contain.  Yet even this must be removed, for the 
morsel of cloth, though small, kept our eyes from seeing her slit.
         Like a mother undressing a babe, stripping off its too-small diapers, 
Bridget tugged on Amber�s bow-tied drawstrings.  She held the whip as 
she gave a tug, letting the girl feel it pressed to her hip, then drawing it 
slowly away as her panties were undone.
         �Ooooh, I--� Amber began, but her voice died as she felt the chill of 
the room invade her sex.  She was wet, open.  Our eyes peered at her bared 
muff, her slit, wondered at the soft undercurve of her bottomcheeks were 
they pressed into the leathered table.
         �Yes, gentlemen, there she is,� Bridget said.  She lifted Amber�s 
panties into the air and gave them a ceremonial flourish.  It was as if they 
represented her hymen, though that had been taken already.  Bridget looked 
at Amber.  �If you were pregnant, I might beat the child out of you, with 
this whip,� she said.  She waved the jewelled cat before the girls eyes.  
Each gem glistened, oblivious to the awful harm it could inflict.  �But you 
are not,� Bridget said.  �So instead of flogging your stomach, I shall whip 
your sex.�
         I clapped my hands to my ears as the first shower of jewels was 
brought to bear upon Amber�s crotch.  The girl screamed as I�d never heard.  
Bridget applied the whip gently, yet �significantly,� as she later told me, 
so that the girl would not think her too soft.
         What girl wouldn�t love to have such jewels?  Diamonds, rubies, 
sapphires; all real, all natural.  Yet to have them in such a way, impressed 
upon one�s sex, how horrid!
         �Yes, dear, I know it hurts,� Bridget said, flinging the whip�s 
expensive jewels down on Amber�s pussy.  �It is meant to.  And no one can 
hear you, down here.  So indulge yourself.  Scream as if your life depended 
on it.  God knows, your sex certainly does!�
         When Bridget had given Amber several lashes, she chose to show 
mercy.  She ordered Erika to find something to cool Amber�s wounded slit.  
Perhaps she knew in advance what Erika would choose.  It was wicked.  It 
was Redi-Wip, fetched from a cool hole in the ground at the back of the 
dungeon.  The hole contained ice.  I guessed it had been brought in, hours 
before, by the men.  The ice, and the cool whip.  The latter was applied in 
short bursts until it completely covered little Amber�s muff.  Then each 
man, unshaven though he was, was permitted to lick between her legs 
until the Redi-Wip was all gone.  
         �Not bad for a damaged cunt,� Jim remarked cruelly.  Amber was 
sobbing, pleading to be let up, but no one paid her any attention, except 
Larissa and myself, and we were bound, and torn between the eroticism of 
her suffering and its wickedness.
         The whip was applied again, this time to the flatness of Amber�s 
belly.  Each stroke made her jerk, cry out, beg.  Like an animal she begged, 
but it only made Bridget harder in the application of her whip.  Red lines 
appeared across the smooth expanse of Amber�s tummy.  Sharp lines, 
marks that were more deeply made than those that had been placed within 
the split of her legs.  Each time the jewelled tips hit they left tiny, deeper 
marks of their own.  
         When Bridget commanded it, Erika squirted whipped cream across 
Amber�s belly.  They were long, loving bursts, able to cover a wider 
expanse of skin.  Then the men fed in her navel and licked her entire 
tummy clean.  Amber watched, sobbing, over the rising, falling nudity of 
her breasts.
         We all dreaded what must happen next.  Her bosoms.  Her upstanding, 
perfect nipples had to taste the whip.  She had such lovely, young bosoms.  
I pleaded with Bridget to put me in her place.  I didn�t wish to see her 
beautiful young teats marred, even at the risk of my own.  
         �No, my dear.  Each to her own,� Bridget smiled.
         �Yes!  I did it with my -hiccup!- my foist cousin!� Amber wailed.  It 
was truly a wrenching, heartfelt wail, and for a moment Bridget�s face 
showed disappointment.  She hadn�t given a damn who the girl had slept 
with first.  She had wanted to test her skill with the whip on her bosoms.  
Striking them, hurting them, yet not making them bleed.  A jewelled cat 
could inflict serious injury if not applied with just the right finesse.
         �So you choose to rat on your cousin, eh?� Bridget asked, hoping to 
revive the need for punishment.
         Erika, however, bent over the girl and clapped a tender hand to her 
cheek and kissed her lips.  �Oh you poor, poor dear.  How much you�ve 
endured.  And for a cousin?  I did it first with my first cousin too.  At a 
picnic.  Get up, silly.  All that for a cousin!�  At once Erika, shedding a tear 
for all little Amber had suffered, reached for her wrists.  She began 
untying them.
         �There are other breasts,� Bridget said.  She eyed me.
         �You have proven your merit.  Put that awful thing away before you 
truly hurt someone with it,� Erika scolded Bridget.
         �I should use it on your ass,� Bridget retorted.
         Calmly, still untying Amber, Erika gazed at Bridget, tossed back her 
blonde hair and said, �I could take you, dear, if I had to.  And you know it.�
         Bridget tossed down the jewelled whip upon the stone floor.
         �Hey!  That�s expensive!� Walter cried.
         �So�s my pussy!� Amber managed to say, though her face was hidden 
under Erika, who was bent over her, untying her wrists.  I bent forward and 
examined the girl�s dell.  It was red-marked, no doubt of that.  Little 
whip-printed lines covered the insides of the girl�s thighs, right up to her 
sex, and upon the soft, moist tenderness of her labial lips.  I prayed her 
clit, hidden somewhere in her curls and within her lips, had escaped the 
whip�s touch.  I pressed my face to her muff.  I planted a kiss within it.
         �Oooh!  Amber cried.  I began to lick her.  She tasted sweet.
         �Forgive me.  I must,� Jim said.  It is to his credit, I think, that he 
was able to surprise me, despite his tied hands, with a sudden, 
upthrusting of himself between my legs and into my cunt.  The head of his 
cock rammed up; I shouted, so surprised was I, then I gasped prettily.  He 
grunted.  He was surprised himself, I think that he had aimed his organ so 
well at my dell.  I had my legs open a bit already, so as not to win 
punishment for modesty.  Now I spread them more.  I returned my tongue to 
Amber�s cunt and feigned helplessness at my fate.
         �Oh, you beast!� Bridget, who was not impaled, cried.  Did she wish 
to suffer my fate?  It was I who bore the discomfort of it.  Jim shoved, 
hard, and paid no heed at all to my virginal tightness.  I shrieked as his 
organ split me apart.  I was riven like a tortured prisoner, forced to sit on 
a spit.  
         Another shove.  Another.  My twat was filled.  Gasping, I managed 
somehow to put my face back upon the small comforting triangle of 
Amber�s muffin.  I kissed her curls there.  She sighed.  I invaded her 
wetness with my tongue.  It was nothing compared to Jim, piercing me to 
my core with his cock, but it made her shout in a quivering cry of joy.
         Jim fucked me.  There is no ladylike way to put it.  No modest way 
for a schoolgirl of 13 to state it, save to say, �he fucked me.�  He drew 
back, relieving me a little of the pressure of his being, only to jam 
himself up me again.  He was, indeed, an animal.  Like a horse in a barn.  I 
was his new mare.  I tried to console myself by making Amber shout with 
invasions of my tongue into her nest.  We screamed our way to orgasm.  
She honeyed my tongue, quite thoroughly.  I received a deluge of Jim�s 
juice up my quim.
         Yet the games were to continue.  Bridget picked up her jewelled cat.  
She looked at me.  I straightened up, my bosoms jingling, hurting from 
bouncing so much under the strain of fucking, whilst hung with bells.  I 
licked the honey from Amber�s cunt off my lips.  I realized Bridget�s eyes 
were on me and blanched.
         At the time, though the clamps on my titties weighed upon me, and 
made me sore, I didn�t realize I�d been more �decorated� than �clamped.�  
They were just tight enough to keep them on, and me mindful of them, 
while not being any tighter.  Clamps can be adjusted, and mine had been 
fixed to my titties in the lightest of the adjustments.  In this way, since 
clamps do reduce blood flow, I was able to wear them as long as I did.  
Now Bridget determined to free my tits, but only to whip them.  That I 
could tell just by looking into her eyes.  She�d been deprived of Amber�s 
breasts.  She wished, as I�d promised, to have mine in substitution.
         Frantically I looked at Jim.  He only grinned in response.  Men!  He�d 
just had my cunt, yet now he would not even help me avoid a tit-lashing!  I 
turned my gaze to Erika, but she was too busy getting Amber untied.  She�d 
waited �til I finished fucking her with my tongue to get her undone.  A 
victim must have some pleasures, I suppose, and having your wrists bound 
while a friend licks your cunny must, if trust is there, be one of life�s 
better pleasures.  Or at least one of its wetter ones.  That she had so 
recently relieved herself there, wetting her panties, had not even crossed 
my mind, I was so intent on consoling her.
         Now I was to be punished, and none stepped forward to save me, not 
even Nick.  Bridget came to me and removed the first of my nipple clamps.  
I howled as the blood, decreased in volume, returned to my teat.  Ah, how 
it hurt!  And the worst of all, as I danced around, shouting at the pain of it, 
was that, with one clamp remaining, I knew I must endure it all a second 
time.
         As I stood sobbing, gazing down at my naked tit, checking its 
condition as best I could, Bridget removed my other clamp.  Again I went 
into a kind of nude, handcuffed rain dance.  I cried.  Erika and a newly 
released Amber calmed me with kisses and dried my tears.
         �My titties hurt!� I said ruefully.
         �Alligators and alligator clips tend to do that, dear,� Erika said.  Her 
voice was nonplussed. 
         �Are they alright?� I asked of my nipples.
         �They�re fine,� Erika said.  
         �You�re just saying that,� I answered.  She held me still.  I hiccuped.  
She bent and kissed each of my nipples in turn.  I shouted, winced.  But 
each kiss was long and as she suckled my teats, one at a time, they began 
to feel better.  Amber helpfully rubbed my cunt with her fingers.
         �You�re sticky,� Amber said, feeling up between my legs.
         �Of course I�m--� I gasped.  I hiccuped.  Amber giggled.
         �You�ve caught my hiccups,� she said.
         �Just so I don�t catch that whip that connected with your muffin,� I 
said.
         �Ah, it is too harsh for the bosoms, in my opinion,� Erika said.  I 
sighed.  �But that doesn�t mean they can be spared,� she added.  �You did 
promise--� she kissed one of my tits, lovingly, possessively.
         �Mmmmm,� I breathed.  Bridget stepped behind me and patted my 
bottom.  �This will be good also,� she said.
         With mincing steps I was led on a tour of the dungeon.  Bridget 
wanted to find something to punish me on.  She led me along with her, 
pulling me by my leash, as one leads a pet.  With my hands cuffed behind 
me, I could do little to stop her.  Hopefully I glanced at Amber, for help.  
She was loose, looking a little like a small pet herself, but without 
restraints binding her any more, without even her panties.  They lay 
crumpled under the rack where she�d been stretched.  Perhaps they would 
be left behind, a souvenir for other, future visitors.  I still remembered 
Bridget�s scheme to have Larissa and myself compete in jamming dildos up 
our bottoms.  My eyes darted to Larissa.  She was submissive.  She gazed 
at the floor.  I saw she was feeling the effects of the tea in her belly for 
her hips were wiggling excessively.  My own tummy felt full, and I 
quivered.  I had to pee too!  Oh, I didn�t want to do it in front of them, and 
yet, how could I not?  I felt wicked, silly, both at the same time.  I let my 
hips sway expansively.  A shiver ran down my spine, shook the hinds of my 
bottom.
         �Do you have to pee?� Bridget asked me bluntly.  I flushed red with 
embarrassment.
         �mmmmm, yes,� I finally admitted.  I wished I could clap a hand to 
my cunny to hold myself in but my wrists were still locked behind my 
back, tight in the cuffs.  I tugged at them.  They wouldn�t give.
         �How delightful,� Bridget remarked.  �But we must continue our 
tour.�  She tugged on my leash.  I was pulled forward.  I stumbled.  Jim�s 
hand darted out and caught me.  I looked at him.  My eyes were wide.  They 
showed worry.  He smiled.
         �Enjoy it,� he said.  He touched a finger to my bosom.  He trailed it in 
a tight circle around one of my nipples, newly released from the clamps.  
It was stiff.  He tickled it.  I winced, fearfully, but felt only pleasure.  
�Feel the need for relief course through you and hold it and savor it,� he 
said.  �Doesn�t your school start again soon?� he asked.
         I nodded.
         �So, you will be back in school soon,� he said.  �I can just imagine 
you in a soft, pullover sweater.  And it will be cold, not warm like it is 
now.  And there will be books, and homework, and lessons,� he said.  He 
traced a circle round my other nipple.  �But for now, for these few 
minutes, there is just you.  And us.  And you are free and you need--�
         In deference to me he did not state what I needed to do.
         �Yes,� Jim said.  He stroked my flat belly.  He passed his hand lower 
and tugged at a wisp of my pubic hair.  �Gaze around you,� he said.  �Do not 
be afraid.  You and the other girls have been quite brave so far.  Hold up a 
little longer, and I will rescue you in the end, I promise.�
         I gazed at Jim�s penis.  It had come up swiftly again, after his first 
discharge.  Already he was ready to take me again.  I smiled, blushed.  I 
turned from him.  Bridget pulled again on my leash.  I was drawn deeper 
into the dungeon.
         Hooks and chains dangled loosely in the dungeon, waiting for victims 
to bind.  I passed under some, stood beside machines bedecked with others.  
I saw a bondage bench, guessed at its use.  One might be bent over it, or lie 
upon it.  A crank underneath it could raise or lower it so the bent female 
might be made to stand with her legs bent, or straight, as her master 
wished.  Near it, incongrously, was a table for medical exams.  I gazed at 
the two metal stirrups sticking out from the table�s base.  They waited to 
receive my feet.  Bridget had only to lead me there.  Or perhaps I would 
visit the dentist.  A dental chair stood in a corner, with equipment for 
filling cavities.  I might be made to lie nude in it, striving to contain my 
pee, while Bridget played oral games with me.  Near that another chair 
stood.  It hung from the ceiling.  It was a big rattan chair reminiscent of a 
bucket seat in a sports car.  But there was a big hole cut in the base of the 
chair, where one�s bottom promised to fall through.  Underneath the hole a 
wide range of dildos stood ready for use.  Behind them a box of kleenex 
waited, in case the poor victim had a bowel movement while she sat in the 
chair, I supposed.  A suppository and a bottle of castor oil sat on the floor 
near the dildos.
         Casting my eyes farther afield, I spied a barber pole.  Next to it sat a 
big leather barber�s chair.  There was a hairdryer poised on a small table 
next to the chair.  Beside the hairdryer was a big, battery-operated 
vibrator.  The table also possessed a razor and a can of shaving cream.  
One might lose more than just one�s modesty down here in this dungeon, or 
one�s clothes.  I shivered.  I didn�t want my muff shaved.  I�d just grown 
hair on it, within the past year.  I didn�t want my sex made to look like a 
little girl�s again.  I looked at Amber.  She had a fleecier sex than myself, 
hers only just grown in lately.  She grinned.  She was loose as a cat, 
wearing only her collar.  I looked away.  In her happiness she seemed to be 
looking forward to seeing me punished.
	I tripped along behind Bridget.  Her eyes danced as she pointed out 
all the different instruments of torture to me.  I felt everyone�s eyes upon 
me.  They watched me react, savored my blushes.  Where my swimsuit 
normally was my skin showed white.  My nipples, sprouted, wiggled their 
tips freely in the air.  My bush displayed itself to their inquiring eyes.  My 
pussy lips, snug between my legs, wettened in anticipation of more 
intimate surveys.  I glanced at the men�s cocks.  They saw my glance and 
grinned like cats observing a parakeet.  I would endure each of them up my 
twat this evening, I knew, my tummy sinking.  Jim was my favorite, but he 
would insist on sharing me with his friends.
	Worst of all, looking away from the randy men and back at all the 
tortuous items the dungeon possessed, I knew none of us would leave this 
place without marks upon our body.  We must have souveniers.  They need 
not be permanent, but they needed, I knew, to be painfully applied.  It was 
the essence of the place.  I suppressed a desire, suddenly upwelling, to see 
the men shout as their asses were flayed, making their cocks bobble like 
loose swords.  Finally I could stand it no more.  I asked Bridget to stop, 
almost at random, before a machine whose evil I could only guess at.
	I swallowed.  I looked at the machine, at Bridget.
	�This one,� I said.  I felt brave in saying it.  I had no idea what the 
machine did.  I shut my eyes.  I swallowed again.  I would have patted my 
chest, so nervous did I feel, but the restraints on my wrists made my 
hands captive behind my back.
	�Ah, such an Amazon!� Bridget complimented me.    
	�What is it called?� I asked, my voice quavering, my eyes opening to 
regard anew my choice.  It was a large and looked like a gallows.  Two 
upright posts rose from the floor.  They supported a crosspiece.  One might 
stand between the posts, and be hanged, for all I knew.
	�This is a �Natural Birthing Tree�,� Bridget told me.  I felt myself 
exhale and a sense of relief came over me.  Well, it was a womanly 
machine, then.  Perhaps I had little to fear.  I would not, at least, be 
swinging from it by my neck.
	�And?� I paused.  I was afraid to ask, yet suddenly dying of 
curiousity.  I wanted to have a baby someday.  Would I need one of these?
	�Kiss me to show you�re ready to proceed.  Then you�ll find out, as 
we strap you into it, how it�s used,� Bridget replied coyly.  I glanced at 
her breasts, so incongrously large on her slender, model�s body.  Then I 
looked up into her eyes again.  I did not know what to do.  Should I trust 
her?  I felt a shudder in my tummy.  It made my hips wiggle.  I had to go to 
the bathroom quite badly!
	�Oh, yes!� I said.  I stood on tiptoe, my hands still restrained behind 
me, and pressed my breasts to hers.  My chin lifted.  My lips sought hers.  
She tilted her head down to meet me and we kissed.  Her tongue pressed 
apart my lips and invaded my mouth.  �Oh!� I breathed.  I drew back.  Our 
kiss was broken.  I had sensed lust in her mouth, her tongue.  A man�s sort 
of lust, except she was all woman.  How strange.
	�I�m ready,� I said, trying to avoid blushing again.
	�Very well,� Bridget said.  She gestured at two sturdy-looking milk 
crates placed against the inside of each of the upright posts.  �Mount up.�
	Anxiously I stepped forward, between the two posts.  Then, with 
Bridget steadying me, her hand on my bare hip, I stepped up onto one of the 
crates.  I glanced at the other one.  It was separated by the one I was 
standing on by a good three feet.  I would spread myself quite wide, if I 
was to actually stand up upon that other crate, while still keeping my foot 
placed on the first.
	�Mount up,� Bridget told me again.  She nudged my bottom with the 
handle of her cat.  She placed a hand to my back, steadying me, lest I fall, 
for I was still cuffed.  
	I drew in my breath.  I lifted up my other leg.  I placed it on the 
crate.  Ah, how spread apart I felt!  I was straddling two widely-separated 
crates.  I felt like Wonder Woman but, I suppose, I was a captive Wonder 
Woman, due to my handcuffs.
	�Very good,� Bridget said.  I hoped she might uncuff me.  Instead, she 
unfastened a long rope that was wrapped round one of the posts.  I 
swallowed.  Was that meant for my throat?  As I gaped at it, Bridget slung 
it under one of my arms.  She lifted the end of the rope and wrapped it 
around a hook high up on the post.  She had to stand up on one of the crates 
with me to do it and it was then I realized the crate was firmly bolted 
into the floor.  When the rope was secure, Bridget got down.  But she 
immediately went to the other post and undid a rope there and put it under 
my other arm.  
	Standing before them, my body slung up by twin ropes, I shivered.  My 
bosoms wobbled freely on my chest.  I looked down at my taut nipples.  
Why were they so excited, when I was being displayed like a roast mutton 
in the market?  The ropes rubbed me under my arms but, thankfully, they 
were sheathed in rubber where they made contact with my body.  
	I felt my breath inhaling and exhaling.  Each movement of my lungs 
made my bosoms quaver.  I felt like an animal, about to be served, eaten.  
Suddenly my head was yanked back by my hair.  Someone forced a gag into 
my mouth and tied it behind my head.  I yelped, tried to protest, but the 
gag shoved my tongue back so far into my mouth that I could barely utter a 
sound.  Tears sprang to my eyes.  My bosoms juddered ripely on my chest.  
	�Be brave,� I heard Bridget say from somewhere behind me.  
	Erika, nude as myself but without restraints, pranced over to a table.  
It had various sexual items on it.  I averted my eyes.  In my condition, 
exposed as I was, I couldn�t bear to contemplate the possibilities inherent 
in my new position.
	Returning with a feather, Erika handed it to Bridget.
	�Thank you, Erika,� Bridget said.  She looked at the men.  She passed 
the feather underneath the erect glans of the nearest one.
	�Whoa!  You�ll make me sperm the air!� Walter cried.  Despite his 
protest, Bridget passed the feather under Nick�s penis as well.  He was as 
hard as Walter and the feather, so light, so soft, tickling his cock made 
him shudder.
	�I can�t hold on if you do that to me,� Nick warned in a breathless 
voice.  Bridget smiled.  Jim was unrestrained, but she placed a hand on his 
bare hip and passed the feather under his sturdy penis as well.
	�Ah, nice,� Jim answered.  He�d shot off once, in me, and was better 
able to enjoy his erection now, having taken the edge off his sexuality.
	�Now, gentlemen,� Bridget said, regarding our nude male companions.  
�And you are ever gentlemen, tonight, I see, though you got out of hand 
with me the last time we were in here,� she added.  �Keep your bearing 
proud, kingly.  Don�t shudder so when I pass a mere feather under your 
cock.  Does it torture you?  Tut.  tut.  To think what martrys went through, 
in the Inquisition, and you men can�t even entertain the pleasure of a 
simple feather without begging me to stop.�  She smiled.  �But be that as 
it may, we�re going to make some honey to reward you three for being so 
nice and hard.  I know its difficult, retaining your seed under trying 
circumstances.  Don�t think I�m not proud of you.  Now, you may ask, what 
sort of honey?  Why, natural honey is the best, of course.  And I�ll bet my 
feather can make some, right here,� Bridget said.  She turned to me.  She 
walked over to me and touched the tip of the feather to my slit.
	�Ahkkk!� I cried within my gag.
	�See?  She�s wetting my feather with honey already,� Bridget told 
the men.  �How cooperative she is.  But she must needs pee soon.  Come and 
lick up the honey between her legs, before she spoils it by peeing through 
these pretty cuntlips of hers.�
	The men needed no further invitation.  Though two of them were 
cuffed, as I was, nonetheless they came forward and crowded in around 
me.  At once Bridget withdrew her feather.  The men nuzzled their 
unshaven faces between my legs.  I gasped, wrenched.  I could do nothing 
to stop them.  I was splayed, my legs quite well apart, my sex exposed.  
They attacked me with their tongues.  
	My eyes rolled in my head.  I sought help, gazing first at Erika, then 
the other girls, but no one tried to intervene to save my modesty.  Little 
Amber, seeing me, actually broke out into giggles.  She covered her face 
with her hands.  Erika scolded her.  Yet she giggled on and on, watching me.
	I wriggled atop the men.  I must have looked like a dancer.  My chest 
heaved.  My bosoms bounced.  My derriere ground against the air.  I was 
bare, nude, and now utterly defiled.  Like hungry, rooting pigs the men 
shoved their hungry tongues up into my twat.  I was made to gasp, to shout 
within my gag and, finally, blushing as I did it, I was made to orgasm.
	My honeyed climax did nothing to abate the men�s evil appetite.  They 
hunched below my pelvis and continued their attack.  I spasmed, came 
again.  A third time.  A fourth.  And as I rode from hip-waggling climax to 
climax, I felt my need to pee increase.
	�Do not pee on the men�s faces, you dirty girl,� Bridget warned me.  
She reached out and tickled my titties with her feather.  I began crying, 
my pleasure and torment were so intense.  And then, collared and bound 
and spread like a turkey, I tried to shout.
	I was going to pee.  I could feel the need increasing inside me with a 
frantic, unstoppable urgency.  I was a child again, in preschool, waking 
from a long nap and running to the bathroom.  Except I was tied, and could 
go nowhere.  I didn�t even know where the bathroom was down here in this 
awful dungeon.
	It proved to be the men�s mouths.
	�Ack!  She�s peeing on me!� Walter cried suddenly.  Nick echoed his 
surprise.  Jim, shouting, opened his mouth wider and received my feminine 
tribute.  The other two men withdrew, shocked, surprised, and telling Jim 
to take his face away from me lest �that bitch turn you into a human 
toilet�!
	They were jealous, I think.  For the next embarrassing minute, Jim 
and I shared the most intimate moment I ever have yet shared with a man.  
I peed.  He received.  My pee overflowed his swarthy face and went running 
down his chest.  It gathered in the bush of his pubic hair.  It ran in rivulets 
along his stiff penis and dripped off the end of it.  We were one.  I peed and 
he seemed to, with me pee making its way to the tip of his cock, and 
thence to the floor.
	�Such a bad girl!� Bridget said when at last Jim took his face away 
from my cunt.  At once I felt her cat connect with my bottom.  Where a 
moment before Jim�s tongue had assauged me, now the cat came inquiring.  
Its jewelled tips bit into my sex.  I screamed.  My eyes sought help from 
Jim but he merely stood back, accepted a handkerchief from Erika, and 
wiped off his mouth.  
	�Ahhhhddkdk!� I cried in my gag.  The cat struck again.  Its sinuous, 
curling cords came sweeping up between my legs and peppered my sex 
with stinging, hard-edged jewels.  I was being expensively assaulted, but 
assaulted nonetheless.  New tears sprang to my eyes.  I wondered how 
Amber had managed to bear up under such a wicked attack.  
	The cat struck again.  This time it scorched my bottom.  Its tips 
explored the divide between my cheeks.  They found my anus, stung it.  I 
shrieked within my gag.  I grabbed at my bottomcheeks as best I could 
with my hands.  Bridget took hold of my cuffed wrists and yanked them up.  
My fingers slipped off my bottom.  I felt the bareness of my ass, and then 
at once the cat, covering it, so briefly, with a pass of its leather thongs.
	�Ackghghkkk!�  How horrid it was!  I couldn�t defend myself.  I could 
only weep, scream, try to shout.  I worked my mouth but the gag blocked 
all but the most gutteral of sounds from escaping.  I was, truly, an animal, 
strung up, denuded, being basted now by the fire-tipped thongs.
	Bridget relented when she chose to, and when the condition of my 
bottom, well-striped, demanded it, lest she break my skin.  That wasn�t to 
happen, but only for a reason so wicked I half-wished she had chosen �to 
draw�, as I�ve since learned its called, when the whip master chooses to 
hit you so hard you bleed.
	I hung exhausted from the ropes.  My chin fell to my chest and rested 
there.  With half-lidded eyes I regarded my bosoms.  My nipples, despite 
all my pains, still stuck up like twin little thorns.  My bottom cheeks 
throbbed from the basting they�d taken.  My sex burned.  And, strangely, it 
wettened itself still, as if excited by all I�d been through.  Had the men 
attacked me again, I�m sure I could have served them honey anew.
	�Yes, men, we must put your straws back in.  How long they are!� 
Bridget said somewhere behind me.  I paid no mind.  What happened to the 
men was no business of mine.  Or so I thought.
	Erika came up to me and kissed my cheek.
	�You are doing very well,� she breathed in my ear.  �You will make a 
good mother someday, when you have to bear up under much more pain to 
have your first child.�
	�Ackghlg,� I answered.  My gag blocked all speech.  Erika kissed me 
again.  �Would you like something warm and wet to soothe your poor 
bottom?� she asked me.
	Vaguely I managed to nod.
	�Very good,� Erika answered.
	�Men, you look so enormous with those straws stuck into your 
cocks,� Bridget declared.  �You�re big already, and then to have ten inch 
straws sticking out of yourselves, how delicious!  Now, if you please, Miss 
Bambi here would like something warm and wet for her poor, spanked 
bottom.  Please relieve her suffering.  And yourselves.�
	My head shot up off my chest.  My bosoms joggled on my chest.  My 
hips launched forward, but, since I was constrained between the posts, 
fell back again.  Did Bridget mean what I think she meant?  My eyes gaped.  
I noticed Amber was looking at me and giggling uncontrollably again. 
	�Yeeeeeeek!� I shouted within my gag.  For, suddenly, three unwanted 
streams of male pee struck my bottom.  In unison.  Like a fountain.  I was 
inundated by Jim, Nick, and Walter.  They hollared out their delight at 
turning me into a human urinal.  I could only scream in reply, and work my 
limbs, fruitlessly, which made my bosoms bounce on my chest and my 
bottomcheeks flex.  I was told later I looked most alluring, trying to 
escape the pee by dancing around like that, between the sturdy posts.  The 
men gave me the entire contents of their bladders.  They held back nothing.  
All of themselves was exuberantly pissed across the scorched cheeks of 
my ass.  Amber, watching, giggled her seventh grader�s head off.
	�And now for the titties,� Bridget said when the men had relieved 
themselves and retired.  She sounded like a surgeon, saying it.  Detached.  
Uncaring, almost, as if I were only meat, pink and warm and wet, strung up 
for whatever needs be done with me.  I feared she might fetch a knife, and 
cut me, she sounded so clinical.  Butterflies rose in my tummy and, deeply 
blushing already, I felt myself almost faint.  Erika darted up to me, placed 
a hand to my forehead.  At last, seeing me recover a little, she turned her 
head and nodded to Bridget.  
	The raven-haired woman walked up to me.  Bridget was not carrying 
a knife.  But, as I gazed with a bit of relief at her hand, I felt a new fear 
seize me.  Though it wasn�t sharp, the implement she held aloft in her hand 
had an ominous look about it.  It was long, and straight, and there was 
something small and round at its tip.  Innocuous-looking enough, but it 
reminded me of something I�d seen, somewhere... where?  In a film at 
school?  Suddenly I remembered.  It had been a film about cattle.  And 
they�d been moved about in their herding stalls with an item just like 
Bridget now held.
	�Yes, darling, your nipples are so nice and young and perky,� Bridget 
said, gazing at my tits.  �How nice.  But you never know, they might be 
longer still, and sharper.  More erotic even than you can imagine.  
Provided,� Bridget smiled.  �Provided they get a little help in their 
growing, hmmm?  A little stimulation.  This cattle prod should do the 
trick.�
	Gently she touched the tip of the rod to my right nipple.  I screamed.  
An electrical charge jolted my tit.  I gasped.  New streams of tears sprang 
from my eyes.  I gazed at her bug-eyed, frightened out of my wits.
	�Yes, we do cause a few growing pains with this method, but then 
nothing�s without a price,� Bridget smiled.  I was in agony.  How dare that 
woman put a cattle prod to my tits?  As if reading my thoughts, she 
touched my belly button.  I jerked.  She grinned.  �Yes, I can touch more 
than your nipples with this, can�t I?� Bridget asked.  She gazed down at my 
thighs.  �And how about between your legs?  Is there anything for me to 
touch down there?  A button, perhaps?�
	�Yeeeeeeoooooch!� I tried to cry, gagging on my gag as I screamed.  
She had touched the cattle prod to my clit.  She nestled it again in my slit 
and found me once more.  I shrieked.
	�And behind?  Between the cheeks of your bottom?  Do you have a 
little hole back there for me?� Bridget asked.  Wickedly she slipped behind 
me and stuck the prod up into my ass.  I yelled, hard, feeling the wicked 
thing as it touched my anus.
	Bridget passed round to my front again.  She touched my other nipple.  
I responded, crying and yelling into my gag.  She touched my right nipple 
again.  I screamed, but it was no use.  I was at her disposal.
	�You are so sweet,� Bridget said.  �How you jump when I touch you.  
Perhaps you shall be my servant, hmmm?  My lover-servant.  Yes.  You�re 
so responsive, my dear, I�d be remiss not to hire you.�

	When at last I was taken down from the posts, I collapsed.  Jim 
caught me.  I hardly felt it was heroic, though, for he hadn�t saved me from 
the least bit of torture.  He kissed me.  I turned my face away, exhausted.  
I felt like jelly, a jelly fish.  He carried me to the bed in the dungeon and 
tossed me down upon it.

30

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-END OF story EMISSION
    

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