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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PUPPY LOVE
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Chapter One
I sat in the office pool typing. With some annoyance I found that I
had mispelt some words in a letter for my boss. The spell checker was
bombing my writing program on my computer, so I�d dismissed it. Now I
felt like dismissing the entire letter. I reached for the paperback
dictionary beside my desk. Flipping through it, I reflected on my life. Why
hadn�t I made contact with Helga on my return to Buenos Aires? I guess I
was just young and rebellious. And I was pissed at Kimberly too, for
getting me into my whole misadventure. Still, I found myself feeling a
little homesick all of a sudden. I looked up. I gazed at the huge pane glass
window that fronted our office. It was raining outside. People hurried
along the sidewalk. The wind blew at their clothes. Water streamed down
the outside of the glass, blurring everything a little, making it seem like
another world.
I shifted in my chair. I glanced at the other girls. Did they suddenly
feel restless, like me? I�d been content with my little job for two months
now. I made a lot more than any of the rest of them did, though only my
boss knew that. It was because of my special service that I�d performed
for the Argentinean government, in London. There were beginning to be
intimations, though, from above, that I needed to �put out� more. Not on
the job, of course. After hours. Argentina is not known for having the
most perfect government.
I felt ambivalent. I tugged at the hem of my miniskirt. And then,
suddenly, I decided. Yes, I was safe and dry here, warm, comfortable. Yes,
I had a nice desk. But it was boring. They made me work every day, eight
hours. Home every night, back every morning. I pushed back my chair. I
got up. I tugged on the hem of my miniskirt. I picked up my little purse
off the back of my chair, and slung it over my shoulder. And then, without
a sideways glance, without looking back, I walked out.
The rain hit me in the face. It was warm. I tossed my head, didn�t
mind, didn�t hurry like the other people on the walk. I felt the wind whip
past and lift my skirt. I smiled. I pulled down the front of my skirt, but
the back flew up with the wind, showing off my pantied bottom. I ran
then, hurrying just like the others, trying not to slip on my five-inch
heels.
I arrived at the safety of a bus stop wet and dripping. I waited a
moment, hoping I looked no worse no sillier, than the other pedestrians
who had crowded inside. Then, seeing the rain abate a bit, I stepped back
out onto the walk. I rounded the corner of our office building. It was a
huge building, a block long. There, down the street, was my small red
sports car. I�d bought it with the money I�d made working for the
government. I dashed to it. It felt good running, my skirt flying, my
bottom stopping traffic as the wind made my undies show. I fished out my
keys from my purse. Reaching my car, I got it unlocked and slipped inside.
I would go find Helga, I decided. And Kimberly.
***
Helga sat in Kimberly�s living room. She looked ambivalent. We�d
reunited the day before. There�d been warm hugs, kisses, tears. I was
older now, she could see. I wasn�t a little schoolgirl anymore. I was a
woman like her, though still 15. I�d kept them up late, recounting my
adventures. I�d edited my stories some, made them palatable for a
mother�s ears.
�I want to go on assignments,� I said. My voice was high-pitched,
insistent.
�Darling, you are too young,� Helga said again, for the thousandth
time. She wore neat, conservative clothes, mom clothes. She twisted her
hands in her lap. She sat on the couch like a middle-aged woman, though
she was barely 30.
�If she really wants to,� Kimberly offered. �I was 15 when I met
you...�
�That was different,� Helga answered. �The times were different
then.�
�They were?� Kimberly asked. Her face had a kind of incredulous
smile on it. �They seem the same as now to me.�
�Well, I was younger, more daring, more irresponsible,� Helga said.
�I didn�t care if I got some 15-year-old, some CHILD, into sexual stuff.
Now I do. I understand more.�
�Well, I don�t understand,� I answered, rebellious. Only two days
home with her and already we were fighting. �You go on assignments.
What do you do on them, hmmm?�
�She plays Risk,� Kimberly smiled.
Helga blushed. She put her face in her hands. Kimberly sat
uncomfortably, silently. When Helga finally raised her face her eyes were
wet.
�I-I can�t stop you,� she said to me. �The number is in my purse. Go
get it, and call it if you wish. Then let�s hear no more of this nonsense.�
I hustled into the kitchen. Her purse was there, on the table. I knew
she might change her mind at any moment. I opened the purse, looked
inside. I rummaged around. There were hundred dollar bills inside,
crumpled, as if they meant nothing. Amidst the money and other things, I
found a little slip of paper. It had lipstick on it. 472-1920. That was it.
No identifying information, nothing describing what it offered to connect
you to. But I knew, just by looking at it. I went to the notepad on the
kitchen counter and copied down the number. Then I put it in the pocket of
my denim vest. I sidled back out to the living room, sat down.
�I thought it would be hidden away somewhere,� I confessed. �I
should have just gone and dug in your purse when you weren�t looking.�
�Thanks for not,� Helga replied. �And now I want to hear nothing
more of it. Call me if you get in trouble, otherwise not. And I want you to
start school again, young lady.�
�Yes, mother,� I answered. �I have a car now, so it will be fun to
drive there.�
�Try not to mention why you were away,� she told me. She shot a
glance at Kimberly. The blonde put a hand to her mouth, failed to suppress
a giggle. �I told them you had found your father, and went to America to
spend some time with him.�
�My father, Lazarus,� I smirked.
�Enough!� Helga said. She was not angry, simply wanted to close off
our current conversation. �Let�s go out in a few hours, get something to
eat.�
�That sounds fun,� I answered. Kimberly agreed.
***
I woke up bright and early the next morning. I was ready. I�d heard
all the advice why I shouldn�t, all the warnings, and now I�d made up my
mind. I kissed my teddy bear, stepped into the shower, did my makeup
afterward, my nails, brushed my hair until it glowed.
I put on my most daring micromini. There was no use kidding around
with these people. Then I slipped into a blouse that seemed to show more
of me than it hid. It left my belly bare, did little to conceal my bosoms,
but constricted my throat and my arms in tight, stretchy fabric. Then I
put on my shoes. They were new. I�d bought them yesterday evening,
shopping after dinner with Helga and Kimberly. I think Helga had known
where I would wear them. She looked away as I strutted around the store,
trying them, feeling their fit. Kimberly insisted on paying for them, and
told me never to take them off, unless I was asked to. She didn�t explain
why, just said not to. I nodded.
I drove myself to the agency. That�s what it was called, simply �the
agency.� I found the building where it was located, a tall skyscraper
downtown, and parked underneath. I took my parking pass with me so they
would validate it. On the elevator up to the 11th floor, I wrapped my
jacket tight. The men in the car glanced at me. My jacket was as short as
my mini, leaving my thighs, my legs, stretching nakedly down to my heels.
I didn�t need stockings. The women in the car were jealous of me. When I
got to the 11th floor I exited quick as I could. I felt their eyes pasted on
my ass as I walked with rapid steps down the hall.
I buzzed the door marked �Agency.� It was a small sign, posted on
the door in paper, as if temporarily, though the office had been here for
years. The door unlocked, and I let myself in. A woman at a desk greeted
me. I smiled. She was gorgeous. She wore a bow tie around her neck and,
strikingly, a string bikini top. I could not see whether she had anything
else on. Her hair, brown and glossy, was piled atop her head. She wore
small, conservative earrings.
�Are you Barbi?� she asked.
�Yes,� I replied.
�Kimberly called. She said you�d be coming,� the woman answered.
She seemed very nice. She handed a clipboard across her desk to me.
�Would you please fill this out?�
�Sure,� I answered.
�Would you like some coffee?�
�Okay,� I said. She rose. Instinctively, childishly perhaps, I looked
at her to see if she had anything else on. A bikini bottom. Of course.
Perfect for the office of the 90�s. Stepping around from behind her desk, I
saw she wore long black boots, above the knee, with little gold spurs
fitted onto them. The spurs seemed to bring out the blonde highlights in
her auburn hair, I thought.
�Please don�t mind my �uniform,�� she smiled, as if feeling a little
silly under my stare. �Boss�s orders.�
�Men,� I agreed.
�They can be so difficult sometimes,� she said, and walked away,
into another room, her hiney swaying, nothing but a thong in her ass crack
keeping me from seeing all.
I sat down on a leather couch and filled out the form. It asked my
name, my age, and other questions, rather probing ones. I contemplated
them and filled some out, wondered at others.
�Just do the best you can,� the woman answered, returning with two
steaming cups of coffee. She sat down beside me and I queried her about a
few questions. She explained them, helped me answer them. We chit-
chatted a bit, mindlessly, enjoying each other�s company.
�I like your dress,� she said after a bit. �Do you have panties on?�
�No,� I answered.
�Would you please pull it up for me a minute? I have to do a visual
inspection.�
�Alright,� I replied. I set my clipboard aside. I bit my lip and raised
my mini.
�Would you spread your legs for me?� she asked. I complied. She
stood, walked to her desk. She returned with a little pencil-shaped
flashlight. She knelt between my legs. She opened my cuntlips and flicked
on the flashlight. She peered into me.
�You have a nice pussy,� she said finally. She let go of my private
lips, my softness, my most secret place. �Sorry, but I had to check. You�ll
be using it a lot, you know, on your assignments. Would you pull down your
blouse for me?�
�Okay,� I answered. I yanked it down, felt my boobs pop out. I
looked down and saw my nipples were sticking up, hard and ready. The
woman put her hands to them. She palped them. She squeezed them
firmly, like they were melons. Her thumbs tweaked my nipples.
�Good,� she said. �No breast cancer or anything, and they�re natural.
Our customers will like that.� She picked up my clipboard, her clipboard
now, and wrote on it.
�What sort of assignment would you like?� she asked. She looked at
me. �You can pull your skirt back down,� she smiled.
�Oh yeah,� I answered. I repaired my clothing. �I guess, well, I�d
like an assignment...oh, something challenging.� I said. She grinned.
�Kimberly says you�ve spent the last two months being bored to death in
an office.�
I nodded.
�Well, I think I might have just the thing for you,� she told me.
***
He was an older man. That�s what the woman had told me, anyway.
It was late afternoon. The sun had about an hour of life left before it
would sink back beneath the horizon. I�d dressed conservatively. I
assumed he had conservative tastes, given his age. I had no idea what he�d
do with me, but the woman had hinted I might be surprised.
I knocked at the front door of a large home. A woman in an evening
gown answered.
�Oh, you must be the young lady from the agency!� she smiled at me.
I nodded. �Please do come in, we�ve been expecting you,� she invited.
�Sorry I�m a little late. I got lost driving over,� I grinned
sheepishly.
�You�re not too late, nothing that can�t be accounted for,� she
answered. I wondered a little at her answer, followed her into the
interior of a large, lavishly decorated home. Fine art hung on the walls.
Curtains of lace shrouded the large bay windows. Sumptuous furniture
beckoned, but she drew me on, leading me through the house. We stepped
out back. I saw a lawn, garden furniture, and other guests, all in evening
clothes, the women in shimmering dresses, the men in tuxedoes.
�Here is Barbi, from the Agency,� the woman called. She introduced
me to the other guests. I was given a drink, sipped it. I met the host. He
was close to 50. His name was Albert. He did not tell me his last name. I
was permitted to chat awhile. Everyone was very pleasant, very polite,
although there seemed to be a bit of tension in the air. The women were
all older than me, though still quite young and pretty. The men were in
their 30�s and 40�s. Several told me they were diplomats, from foreign
countries.
�Come, dear,� the woman who had greeted me at the door said
finally. She drew me over to a the table with the food and punch. �Would
you be willing to put on something a little more revealing for us?� she
asked. I gulped. I had almost forgotten why I was here.
�I-I guess so, I mean, of course, sure,� I answered. She opened her
purse. She drew from it a little handful of cloth and strings. �You don�t
mind being seen in a bikini, do you?� she asked. There was a smirk on her
face, as if she were somewhat amused. I heard a woman behind me laugh.
A man cleared his throat.
�No,� I answered. I stuck out a finger, poked at the bit of cloth,
received it into my hands.
�Step behind the bushes, there�s a trellis there, you can hang your
nice dress up,� she told me.
�Okay,� I answered. I felt childish. I took the little bikini,
wandered back behind a stand of rose bushes. I could smell their perfume
on the air. It was sweet. Within their enclosing protection, feeling
precious, I removed my dress. I guessed they�d want everything off,
except my shoes. And my earrings, of course. No use taking off those. I
had nice hoop earrings, silver. They matched the silver accents in my
heels. There was a hanger hooked into the trellis. Ivy wove along its top,
along its sides, but the interior of the trellis was bare. It was as if it had
been specially designed for a girl to hang her clothes up on.
I untangled the bikini they�d given me. A miniature bra, plus teensy
panties. The parts that were fabric were white and very soft, almost
furry. The rest was nothing but frustrating strings. They all needed to be
tied. Nothing could just be slipped on. Feeling a little frustrated, I got
the bikini tied onto myself. It took several minutes. For all my effort, it
hid very little. I tugged at the bra cups. They were undersized, leaving
the fleshy undercurves of my breasts quite bare and unsupported. I hoped
they wouldn�t want me to do my cheerleading routines in this. As for the
panties, they were so small in back I knew they�d dip entirely into my
buttcrack the minute I started walking. In front, a little triangle of fuzzy
cloth did its best to hide my pubis. It barely managed, leaving all else
quite naked.
I lifted my chin. I told myself to have confidence. This was my first
assignment, and I didn�t want to blow it. With a toss of my head to give
myself assurance, I stepped out from behind the roses.
�Ah, how cute!� a woman exclaimed. There was a round of applause.
I blushed, walked as straight as I could, was aware of my hips swaying
nicely. My boobies were bouncing almost as freely as if they were
uncontained, and I glanced down to make sure the bra still held them. It
did.
Albert handed me a big straw bonnet, with a ribbon and large bow of
blue silk. I guessed he wanted me to put it on. I did, then spun once on my
heels for him to let him admire me with it.
�You design the most delicious little bikinis,� a woman said to
Albert. Ah, he was a fashion designer, I guessed. He smiled. At her, at
me.
�The hat is my design also,� he replied.
�So it is,� she answered, but her eyes remained on my swimsuit.
�It�s best not to get this material wet,� Albert said to her.
�No, but what self-respecting girl swims at the beach anyway?� the
woman answered. She stuck out her finger, hooked the front of my
panties. She pulled them open, my bush showed. She let go and the panties
snapped shut. �Nice pull on the strings.�
�Yes, they have a certain elasticity to them, though not too much,�
he replied. �The bikini is mainly for show, as you said, to attract
attention.�
�Speaking of which, I know a certain creature who hasn�t gotten any
attention at all this evening,� the woman said. Albert nodded, as if giving
permission. �Jill, please let out Popeye, its time for his weekly bath,�
the woman called. A second woman nodded, disappeared a moment. I
thought nothing more of the exchange, let someone hand me a glass of
sherry and was just sipping it when a small terrier came bounding out
onto the lawn. He startled me by barking at me and made a beeline for the
grass between my heels. He leapt up and sniffed actively at my crotch.
I nearly dropped my glass! It was so mortifying, me in a little
nothing bikini, everyone else lavishly, expensively dressed, with a pooch
sniffing out my pussy as if I were a bitch in heat!
�Barbi,� the woman with Albert said to me, drawing my attention
from the dog even as he stood and put his paws on my thighs and sniffed
my cunt up close. �Please take your bikini off to keep it from getting wet,
and give Popeye here his bath.� Albert handed me a small copper bucket
for bathing the dog. It was empty. He pointed to a marble-topped table
nearby.
�You can wash him there,� he said. �Popeye expects the very best
treatment.�
What could I do? I was embarrassed, but then I couldn�t say no,
could I? I hoped they�d be paying me well for this. I reached down and,
with a grunt, picked Popeye up in my arms, still holding the bucket. At
least in my arms he wouldn�t sniff my cunt, I figured, but the rude dog
immediately began pawing my breasts. With him struggling, clutching him
as best I could, I walked over to the marble table. I put him gently down
on it. I didn�t want to just drop him. His owner obviously thought the
world of him. Popeye stood on his four legs atop the table, ardently
sniffing at my breasts, as if I might feed him. Stepping back,
remembering what Albert had said about the bikini, I reached back and
reluctantly untied my top. My breasts spilled free. Popeye showed as
much interest in them as did the guests. My nipples stuck out invitingly. I
kept back from the table so he wouldn�t try to take one in his mouth.
Next I undid my panties. Again, I felt the eyes of the guests stare
appreciatively, smugly perhaps, as I revealed myself to them, me all naked
while they remained dressed to the nines. Carefully I hung my bikini up on
a little iron railing that formed a fence running behind the table. It
separated a part of the yard from some valuable private vineyard grapes
that grew just beyond; a small collection of grapes that Albert used to
create his own wines.
Bucket in hand, I traipsed across the lawn to a faucet set in the
outside wall of the house. I had not removed my heels. I remembered
Kimberly�s advice. I bent down, was conscious of my bottom splaying out
behind me, showing all, leaving nothing to their imagination now. The
guests watched me, sipping their drinks. Popeye stood on his table, his
tail wagging furiously. I turned on the tap and filled my little copper
bucket. Then I stood, hefted it, and returned to Popeye. He was eager to
see me. I found that someone had placed a bar of Hartz flea soap on the
table, already unwrapped. I did not see any gloves for my hands. I guessed
I was to use my bare fingers. I tossed my hair. I brushed it from my eyes,
wishing I had barrettes or something to hold it up. The dog watched me. I
saw that he had an erection between his legs.
�Alright, Popeye,� I said to him, feeling awkward, silly. �It�s time
for your bath, boy, and I want you to behave for me, okay?� He was a cute
little critter, I had to admit. I just wished he didn�t have his thing
sticking out between his legs. I lifted him up. He poked his nose
enquiringly at my stiff nipples. I stood him in the bucket. His legs
separated widely. I could only get one paw in, the bucket was too small
for both, with his antics. �Come on, boy, be good and sit in the bucket,� I
scolded. But he would not comply. His legs remained wide, he humped his
hips at me, hoping to make contact with his thing.
I set him back on the table. He wagged his tail. The table was low
enough that he could stand and sniff my pubic hair, and he did so with
relish. I picked up the copper bucket and doused him with some of the
water in it. He wagged his little tail, still entranced by my cunny. I
picked up the bar of soap and began rubbing him with it.
�Alright boy, it�s time for your doggie bath, stand still,� I ordered
him. I had to let him sniff at my pussy to keep from dancing about on the
table. I rubbed him fast as I could, hoping to finish quickly.
�Take your time, dear, he likes lots of loving tenderness,� the
woman with albert admonished me. I glanced over my shoulder at her.
�Alright,� I answered. I rubbed more slowly. Popeye seemed to grin
up at me, pleased with my handling of him. His erection remained quite
noticeable.
I scrubbed away. Popeye wriggled from my grasp occasionally,
making me dash about the table to recapture him. Thankfully, he did not
jump down to the lawn. I worked my fingers deep into his fur and bent
once to rub noses with him, just to keep him from acting up on me. Finally
I rolled him over, and doused him again, then set to work on his ribs and
tummy. He seemed to like this best. He let his legs lie open and didn�t
fight me as I massaged him generously all over, avoiding only his cock.
�Do his balls too, please,� Albert�s woman told me, seeing I was
missing his thing. �And his penis. Don�t mind that it�s out. Just rub along
it like you would a man�s. You have washed a man�s organ before, haven�t
you?�
�Uh, ummm, yeah,� I answered, not sure actually, just trying to
comply. I felt awful, my ass sticking out as I bent over the table, my
breasts dangling down, full and heavy. Popeye brushed them with his
tongue.
�Down boy,� I said, though he was already on his back. I rubbed his
genitals then, and he wriggled blissfully. He lapped at my breasts. He
ejaculated into my hands.
�Ewww, yuck!� I cried, standing up quickly.
�If your hands weren�t soapy I�d make you lick them clean,� Albert�s
woman told me. �He�s our favorite dog, and you�re only here for the night.�
�Yes, ma�am,� I replied. God! Eat a dog�s sperm?! I wanted to run
from the yard right then, but realized I had no clothes on at the moment. A
slight deterrence, to be sure.
I picked up the bucket and poured its remaining contents onto
Popeye, cleansing his genitals. I was going to go get more water when
Albert�s woman came up behind me and tapped me lightly in the small of
my back.
�Kneel up on the table,� she said.
I turned my head, my hair flying in a whirl of surprise. �What?!� I
asked. There was a look of shock on my face.
�Kneel up on the table, doggie-style,� she said again.
�But, he�s...� I looked at Popeye. He was on his feet again, all fours,
looking eager and wagging his tail. I saw that his little ejaculation a
moment ago had done nothing to dim the ardor of his cock.
I heard a brief whistle, felt a sudden sting burn itself into my
bottom. I stiffened. The woman had a riding crop!
�ON the table,� she said again. I complied. Fearful, surrounded by
my former friends at the party (or so I�d imagined them, though we�d
exchanged only first names), I got on the table. I felt the cold,
uncompromising marble under my hands. Someone moved the bucket away
and put a small pillow for me on the table. Sensing I must, I lowered my
face to it. I grabbed the corners of the pillow with my sperm-sticky
fingers.
�Oh no, please don�t,� I begged. The woman pressed upon my back,
making my bottom bulb more, offering it to the dog. Happily he sniffed at
my cunt, able to enjoy it directly now, in its most advantageous position.
The woman placed her palms on the insides of my thighs, pushing the dog
aside a moment, and prepared me for him, opening my legs nice and wide.
�We would never fuck you, darling, but you are good enough for our
dog,� she teased. I was humiliated beyond my wildest imaginings. I
shuddered, I begged for them not to do it. I gazed into the eyes of the
guests, so recently my equals, or so it seemed, and they stared back,
uncaring. Uncaring but deeply, profoundly amused.
Popeye got up on his hind legs. Several women giggled. He presented
himself.
�No, GOD!� I begged. I felt his awful thing nudge my cunt. And then
it pushed within. �Aaaack!� I cried. I wanted to leap up, but a woman had
gripped me by the back of my neck, and held my face pressed down. Behind
me I heard Albert�s woman swishing her crop menacingly. I knew the
punishment would be severe, worse than I�d ever had, if I denied her doggie
his after-bath treat. Trembling uncontrollably, I felt him thrust inside.
He had a small thing, it didn�t go very deep. He pressed close, mounting me
proudly. I felt his paws pressing down on my rump. Vigorously he began
spearing me.
�No! No! No! Oooooh, God!� I cried suddenly, and popped my thumb in
my mouth. I tasted his cum. It revolted me, but I was more terrified my
his thing in my cunt. In a few moments I felt him spurting. And then,
after a few more strokes, he got down again.
I leapt up. I dropped to the grass and went running into the house. I
ran to where I thought the kitchen might be, found it, and furiously I
rinsed out my mouth. Albert�s woman found me there.
�Come upstairs, I will bathe you,� she said to me. She spoke
nonchalantly. She still held her crop. I rose from the sink and followed
her, feeling utterly, totally abject and despondent.
***
My bath was long and loving. Albert�s woman, telling me I�d done
very well in the yard, introduced herself as Elspeth. A strange, uncommon
name, I felt, for a strange, uncommon woman. The suds of the bath got on
her. She knelt outside the tub, insisted on washing me with her own
hands. With no washcloth. Just her fingers, long, expert, playing over my
tummy, my breasts, delighting in the stiffness of my nipples. She douched
me too, an intimate experience. I felt tender, vulnerable. She kissed me
when she was done.
Elspeth got me out of the bath and dried me with a rough towel. She
brushed my hair. Then, walking me to the medicine cabinet, she opened it.
I saw a dog�s collar lying there. It was black with little silver studs. She
made me stand still while she buckled it around my neck.
�Come, time for bed,� she said. She took me into the next room.
Someone had undone the bed while we were in the bathroom. The sheets
looked cool, inviting. She picked up the bed�s pillow and fluffed it. She
told me to put my heels back on. They were standing by the bedside, new
and fresh, cleaned up after my adventure in the yard. Someone had taken
care of them for me. I put them on, sat on the edge of the bed and buckled
myself into them.
�You have another canine friend who�d like to meet you,� Elspeth
said to me. I started, looked up. A big dog came bounding into the room.
My legs were spread slightly and he sniffed at them. I patted his head, not
knowing what else to do. Elspeth hovered over me. She had her crop again.
She held it twixt her fingers like some valuable, which no doubt it was,
for otherwise I would have fled from the room at once.
�Please get in bed,� Elspeth told me. �And don�t deny yourself to
Rover, here. You two will be spending the night together.� I looked up at
her. There was no possibility of a change of heart, I could see. Two
guests entered the room, both male, big strapping fellows. I looked at
them. They saw my resistance.
�Get in,� one of the men ordered me. I stood. I turned and crawled
into bed. Rover jumped up on the bed beside me. I put my arms around him
to try to settle him. I lay back. Licking my face, he got himself on top of
me. I kept my thighs pressed tightly together, lest he should get any
ideas.
�What do you think, gentlemen? Is she a fair mount for him?�
Elspeth asked the two men.
�Good enough,� one of them answered, infuriating me. Rover lapped
my nose, oblivious to their presence.
�Let�s let them enjoy each other�s company awhile,� Elspeth said.
�Take out your cocks, men, and I�ll rub them a little for you.� I glanced
over at her. Rover licked my nose, tried to get his belly as firmly against
mine as he could. I felt a pressure upon my pubis, a probing. �When you�re
ready, darling,� Elspeth said to me. �I enjoy playing with a dog all night
before I let him mount me, but you may be more eager. Get up on your
hands and knees when you feel the moment has arrived. I like seeing a girl
getting it from behind.�
I returned my gaze to Rover. He licked me ardently. His tongue
tickled my nose. I giggled, despite myself. The men got out their cocks. I
looked, cursing myself. They were big. Elspeth seated herself on a chair
between them and, with them standing on either side of her, she began
frigging them.
After a bit the men were groaning. Drinks were brought by a maid
and Elspeth ceased her ministrations so that the men could enjoy a
breather. I was allowed to get up too, and I sat on the edge of the bed,
sipping Sherry. The men drank standing up.
�Is it not wonderful?� Elspeth asked me, honestly, as Rover helped
himself to a tongue-lapping drink from my glass.
�Rover!� I shouted. I whacked his nose with my hand.
�Don�t be mean to him, darling, or I�ll flay that lovely hiney of
yours,� Elspeth warned me.
�You don�t really expect me to let a big dog like this fuck me?� I
asked.
�Either that or the crop,� she answered.
�How many strokes?� I asked. Absently I raised my glass to my lips
and sipped, then spit it back out, realizing I�d drunk from the same glass
as a dog.
�I must be in a forgiving mood,� Elspeth said, considering. �Thirty
strokes, all well-delivered, no easy ones. What do you say?� I sat
balancing my glass, wondering if I might steal away for a bath before she
got underway.
�Anything would be better than getting fucked by this dog,� I
answered at last. It seemed strange, bartering for my bottom. Did I wish
a dog�s cock up it, or a crop across it? Neither seemed very pleasant to
me.�
�You�re being paid, darling,� Elspeth said to me. �I intend to amuse
myself with you, and that�s all there is to it. You didn�t come here for a
slumber party, you know.�
�Alright,� I said at last, feeling a strange, grown-up feeling. �But
not TOO hard.�
�Just for that I�ll give the last three extra hard,� she replied. I
stood. I set my glass in the bed, precariously, the covers holding it in an
impromptu arrangement of curves and bulges. Rover and I had quite
distinctly messed the bed up, with his antics and my resistance.
�May I take a bath first?� I asked. �He�s been licking me all over.� I
felt his tongue lave up the crack of my hiney and batted it away.
�You may do whatever you like first,� she answered. �But you won�t
get paid any more for staying longer, however long you dawdle about.�
�A quick one, then,� I answered. I hurried into the bathroom, got the
water on, stepped in. I felt free in the shower. I let the steam engulf me,
felt the water cleanse me all over, thankfully. Espeth�s two gentlemen
friends stepped into the bathroom to monitor me.
�Don�t play with yourself,� one warned me. He drew back the shower
curtain to make sure I complied. They watched me soap myself. I liked
being watched. They could not fuck me. They were achingly, drippingly
hard. But they could only look at me. And they could not play with
themselves, either. Their cocks were reserved for Elspeth�s fingers. They
were, in their own way, as much her slaves as I was. I wondered if they
might liberate me, kidnap me and steal away with me. But they did not.
They seemed to enjoy their slavery. I was probably just one of many young
girls they got to enjoy in their slavery to Elspeth. They obeyed her in
every respect, and she fed them cunts in return. Young cunts, like mine.
When I was done they dried me. Then they took me back out to the
bedroom. The dog was gone. The sheets had been changed. Elspeth,
wearing a long, flowing black gown, with a high collar, waited by the bed.
She lifted her hand, took mine, helped me into it.
�On your knees, dear,� Elspeth told me. �This bed isn�t for sleeping
in, not tonight, not for you. It is merely a platform, hopefully a
comfortable one. I see no need to discomfit you, save where it is intended.
You may rest your pretty head on this pillow. Your knees may push into the
softness of the mattress. Only your bottom is to suffer.�
�But why, oh why?� I asked.
�Because I want to see such young, beautiful flesh respond totally to
me,� she replied. �It is a matter of domination, of control. You will weep,
you will cry, you will beg. But there will be no diminishment of your
punishment. When I am done the men will fuck you. One in your cunt, and
one up your ass. Then you will be dismissed from the premises.�
�Oh, no,� I sobbed. �Please.� Even as I spoke, I was already on my
knees, that was how much persuasive power she had over me, standing
there with her crop in her hand, gazing at me with fiery eyes. The men got
hold of my wrists and bound them into restraints at the headboard of the
bed.
�Open the window,� Elspeth ordered. �I want the neighbors to hear
her screams. And all my guests, they will enjoy them, as they while the
night away, playing bedroom games of their own. Women will shiver in the
arms of their men, hearing little Barbi�s shouts and pleadings. No one will
come. I am well-connected.�
One of the men sauntered over to the window and thrust up the sash.
The evening air blew in, cool and fresh. I felt its chilliness upon my bare
tushy.
�Are you ready?� Elspeth asked me.
�Oh, this is so humiliating!� I cried. My eyes were panic-stricken.
To be heard, as it happened! To be laughed at, ridiculed. Tears were
already streaming down my face.
�I will give you one more humiliation,� Elspeth said to me. �I will
not begin until you tell me to.�
�Oh, God!� I sighed. Then I drew in my breath. �HELP!� I cried.
�HELP! HELP!�
�Three more strokes will be added for that,� she replied calmly.
�But if you wish to yell until you�re hoarse, that�s your affair.�
I squeezed my eyes shut tight. �You are a bitch,� I moaned.
�I know,� she tittered. �Girls tell me that all the time. It does not
spare their bottoms, though.�
�Do it. Get it over with,� I gritted through my teeth.
�You must say, �Please mistress, spank my bottom.�� She replied
suavely.
�No,� I answered. I gazed at her hot-faced. It was a test of wills.
�You wish to be a slave,� she said. �I can see it in your eyes.�
�No! No I do not!� I cried out, sure of every word.
�Some girls do, some don�t,� she answered. �But you do.� I shook my
head �no� as vigorously as I could. �You are in luck,� she said. �I have a
guest, he watched you from his room, in the garden. But if I spare you, if I
give you to him, you will be his slave forever.�
�Spare me, then,� I replied.
�You didn�t join the agency for the money, did you?� she asked. �You
wanted to submit. You wanted to find a master to love you, and care for
you, and give you your liberty, but always within the confines, the
perimeters, he might select. Isn�t it true?� Again I shook my head �no.�
�Ronald, go get Lord Shaftsbury,� Elspeth said. There was a wicked
twinkle in her eye. Immediately Ronald left, naked, his cock waggling out
in front of him, hoping for pussy. The sooner my fate was concluded, he
would have some, from some female, I guessed. He probably did not care
who. She would be lovely, whoever she was.
I shifted my wrists, hoping to free them somehow from the
restraints. Otherwise I kept my pose, on my knees, my face down, my
bottom high. I did not dare change my posture, lest Elspeth flog me.
�Hurry,� Elspeth teased. ��Please mistress, spank my bottom,� is all
you need say. If I whack you even once, the strokes will be delivered, all
of them, even if I have to tie you more fully to do it. But you will be free
of Lord Shaftsbury. He will not be permitted to enter. If he does, my dear,
you are lost. I can see in your eyes what you want. A love slave, a
chattel, that is what you want to be. Opulent, elegant, but not a liberated
female. Not in the truest sense. You wish to be endowed with the supreme
female beauty, that which comes only from submission to a male. A
strong, powerful male. One who will love you, and force you to submit
completely. I wished it once too, and I was such a slave. At 16, just as
you will be soon. That�s what you really want for your birthday, isn�t it?
A collar, a leash, and the strong whip-hand of a perfect male master.�
30
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