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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
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Chapter Nine
We went into a living room, John leading the way, Pauline guiding me
as I walked with cuffed hands in front of her. I still had a feeling of being
protected, despite her desire to see me flogged, for her hands were very
gentle in handling me. The two young men who�d met us at the front door
to their house stood in the living room. Their loin cloths were gone.
However, they still wore their �male chastity pins,� as I heard someone
refer to them. Big, emerald-tipped tweezers, one end stuck up into their
pee hole while the other clamped the underside of their cock�s head. It
was hoped, at least, that by being plugged up like that the two boys would
not spend. I wondered, though, if they got excited enough, if they couldn�t
manage somehow to shoot out their jism anyway. Already I could see pre-
cum oozing out around the emerald stuck at the end of each boys� dick. The
tweezers, I guessed, were more a device of torture, perhaps to discipline
the mind, than a device that could keep all their sperm in them if they
suffered an orgasm. The pin in their penis was a way of telling them that
they were not permitted to cum.
One of the young men set down a large silver bucket. It was packed
with ice. Inside it was a smaller bucket. It had clear fluid in it. Pauline
leaned over one of the sofas in the living room. There were lace doilies on
the armrests of the sofas in the room. She picked one up. She walked me
over to the bucket. She dipped the doily in the bucket. She drew it up,
dripping with the clear fluid. She put it to my face. I smelled wine. It
was cold, from being in the bucket packed with ice. Pauline rubbed it all
over my face, cleaning it of the ice cream she�d so rudely smooshed over
my nose and eyes. Then she handed the lace doily to the nearest boy slave.
He took it, and left the room.
�I�m sorry,� Pauline said to me. She kissed my wine-wettened
cheek. I was thankful for her cleaning my face, but the rest of me she left
untouched. I was still messy all down my front. Food, syrup, melted ice
cream decorated the stiff stems of my nipples, the outswell of my
breasts. It ran down the flatness of my tummy to moisten me in the
inviting place between my legs. However, the rest of me was still clean.
Since Pauline had washed my face, it no longer had ice cream on it. As for
the hair on my head, it was decorated only with small bits of food. They
clung to loose strands, hanging down past my eyes, that had been
unfortunate enough to get caught in the corners of my mouth. My smooth
back and round little bottom had escaped entirely. It was a strange sight;
the front of me splattered while the back of me was unblemished.
�I want a bath,� I said frankly to Pauline.
�Then you shall have it,� she replied.
�In the living room?� I asked.
�Yes,� Pauline said. A smirk of a smile lifted up the ends of her lips.
She kissed me. �You are so sweet,� she murmured. �You�re good for
practising having a baby, do you know that?� she asked me.
�No,� I said. �I don�t want to be a baby.�
�Sit down on the couch,� Pauline said. I did, and at once she scolded
me. �Not like that,� she said. �Sit on the edge of the couch, so that only
the back of your bottom is resting on it. Sit with your legs splayed, so we
can all see your cunt. We�re going to have a bath, just as you�ve
requested.�
I complied. Pauline told Rebecca and Chrissy, who were messy like
me, though not as badly, to sit as I was sitting. The men also were made
to sit with their legs apart, showing us their equipment, their butts
perched on the ends of the couches where they sat.
�Steve, you must sit with Rebecca,� Pauline told Chrissy�s husband.
�Brad, you sit with Chrissy. I�ll handle Chloe. John,� she said, looking up
at her husband, who still towered over us, �You may do as you please, for
you are master of all of us.�
�Indeed I am,� John answered, his big penis hanging off the front of
him. He picked up a pair of black leather gloves off the surface of a table
holding a lamp. He drew them on. He flexed his fingers, wearing them, and
looked directly at me. �You have a nice ass,� John told me. I swallowed
hard. The slave boy who had left with the soiled doily now returned with a
coiled black leather whip in his hands. He gave it to John.
�Kneel down, white boy,� John said. �I need an ass to practise on.�
The boy was beautifully-formed. His skin was golden from being
naked on the island. His cock stuck out in front of him, competing in size
with that of John�s. He gulped.
�Don�t hit my balls,� the boy said. Then, with a quick glance at us,
he knelt down on the floor.
�Legs apart,� John told the boy.
�No!� I shouted. Pauline put a stiff finger over my lips.
�Shhhh,� she said. �He is paid well to be our slave. John must have
target practise on someone, if he is not to hurt you. He must limber up,
you know.�
�Ohhh, I�m frightened for him,� I said.
�It is not his first time,� Pauline told me.
�Oh, please don�t,� Rebecca murmured, in a soft, quiet voice,
watching from across the room.
�I want to see his ass glow,� Chrissy said. She grinned.
John raised his big whip. It had a very long tail. It had a big handle,
made of black ivory, that he gripped in his gloved right hand.
�I must kiss him first! He is so brave!� I cried. Still handcuffed, I
leaped out of Pauline�s lap. I ran over to where the boy was kneeling, in
the center of the room. Oblivious to the danger of John�s whip, which he
now had lifted in preparation to strike, I dropped to my knees. I knelt
behind the boy. I gazed with wonder at his big pair of balls between his
legs. I leaned forward. I kissed them, letting the hair growing on them
tickle my nose. Then I kissed each of the cheeks of his ass.
John reached down and grabbed one of my arms. He yanked me to my
feet.
�Get out of my way,� John growled. He pushed me aside. I stumbled
back toward Pauline, who stood up and caught me before I could fall to the
floor. She drew me back to the couch. We sat down again. I was made to
open my legs, so that my cunt could be seen by all.
THWAAACK! The whip struck. The boy howled. We all watched with
mesmerized eyes. I felt myself suddenly wishing to cry. Pauline held me
close, kissed me on my cheek.
�Don�t worry,� she said.
�But what if he hits his balls?� I gasped.
�He is not a novice,� Pauline answered. I didn�t know who she spoke
of; the boy? Her husband? I was too scared to ask.
The whip struck again. It made the boy gasp. He lurched forward.
Yet he did not try to rise. He remained kneeling, taking each lash bravely.
�That is good,� John said, after striking the boy again. �You!� he
called to the other. �Kneel in his place. It is your turn.�
The one boy rose, the other knelt down. The boy who�d just been
whipped clutched the cheeks of his bottom. He massaged them fiercely.
He sniffled a little. But, thankfully, despite his scorched bottom, I
guessed that his balls had been spared. As for his penis, it was as stiffly
beautiful as ever. It stuck out in front of him like some lewd ornament.
The emerald was still poked in his pee hole.
We watched, fascinated and appalled, as the other slave boy received
a whipping from John. Each stroke of the awful whip caused the boy to
lurch forward on his knees. He cried a little. His dick swung forward and
back, like a pendulum, under the force of the blows.
When John was finished he told the boy to stand. He did. He rubbed
his ass, smarting at the hurt. John laughed.
�Get what we need for our bath,� John told the boys. Obediently, the
boys left the room. A minute later one of them returned. He was carrying
a tray. He brought it over to Pauline. On the tray were several plastic
teddy bears. Pauline picked up one of the bears.
�Steve, do you know what this is?� Pauline asked Chrissy�s husband.
�Sure,� Steve answered, sitting across from us on a couch with
Rebecca. �It�s a fucking teddy bear.�
�Very good,� Pauline smiled. �And where might you see a teddy bear
like this?�
Steve furrowed his brows.
�I dunno,� he said finally. �But I�ve seen them before.�
�I know!� I said suddenly. �You buy them at the grocery. They come
with honey in them. Clover honey!�
�Very good,� Pauline said to me. She unscrewed the cap off the bear.
She dipped him down into the bucket with the chilled wine in it. She filled
him with wine. There was a small folded towel on the tray the boy had
brought her and she used it to dry off the bear when she had filled him
with wine. Then, setting him back on the tray, she proceeded to submerge
each of the other bears in the wine, filling up each one. She dried them all
off when she was through.
I looked at the tray the boy had brought out. It now had a half-dozen
plastic bears on it, each of them filled with wine.
�Pass them out,� Pauline said to the boy. She took one of the bears
for herself. The boy walked round with the tray and made everyone else in
the room take one.
�Now, we are going to use these to bathe,� Pauline said. �However,
as you can see, our water supply,� she giggled. �I mean, our wine supply,
is limited. So only the most important parts can be washed on everyone�s
bodies. On the men, the penis. On the women, the tits and,� she glanced at
my open legs. �The cunt.� She looked up at John. �Dear, would you please
supervise us? If any of us disobeys, and starts squirting his or her
partner indiscriminately, please order us to be punished. Just like you
punished the two boys.�
�Sure,� John said. He turned the teddy-bear bottle he was holding
upside down. He squirted his penis with it. �Ahh, that feels good,� John
said. In his other hand he still held his whip. �Do as my wife says,� he
told us. �Otherwise you�ll find yourself on your knees in the middle of the
room, with my whip to answer to.�
Pauline smiled. She took the honey bottle she held and aimed it
between my legs.
�Let�s get you cleaned up a little, hmmm?� Pauline asked me.
�Oh, not like that!� I gasped. I watched as her delicate fingers
squeezed the honey bottle. A shot of wine suddenly squirted out of the
bottle and hit me between my legs.
�Keep them apart!� Pauline warned me.
�Ohhh! The wine is so cold!� I gasped. It struck my cunt. I wanted
to squeeze my legs shut but I feared John�s whip. Pauline grinned and
squeezed her bottle again. Another spurt of wine fired into my cunt.
�Eeeeek!� I heard Rebecca cry, across the room. Steve was firing
champagne up into her cunt. Chrissy, too, let out a screamy gasp as Brad
bathed her cunny with shots of cold wine.
�And now your nipples,� Pauline said to me. Deftly she raised the
bottle and, squeezing it anew, fired squirts of cold wine over my cherry-
tipped tits.
�Oh! I can�t stand it!� I pleaded. The wine was so cold! All the rest
of me she left untouched, just squirting my tits, and then down between
my legs again, where my cunny lay in soft withdrawn folds between my
legs.
�Yes, you must take the whole bottle,� Pauline smirked. She kept
squirting me. At last every drop of wine from the bottle she held had been
squirted over my tits or into my cunt.
�There,� Pauline said. �Now, girls and boys, it�s time to switch.�
She looked round at the others. But, as it turned out, there was no need to
instruct them. Already, they were taking turns anointing each other�s
privates with the wine. Steve would shoot a long squirt up between
Rebecca�s legs. Then, with her own bottle, she would squirt his penis.
Each couple, squirting the other, remained relentlessly focused on the
other�s sexiest parts. No wine was wasted on faces, or bellies, or arms.
All of it, every last ice-cold drop, was used to torment the other where it
would be felt most. On the nipples, and down between the legs.
�Let�s use up all the wine,� Pauline suggested. She requested keys
for my handcuffs, pleased that I, like rest, had proven so obedient to her
wishes. A boy brought her keys for my cuffs and my wrists were released.
I wanted to dash around the room, grabbing a bear and squirting everyone,
but I did not. It seemed there was more fun to be had in listening to
Pauline, and doing as she asked.
We switched partners. The bears were refilled. I found myself
sharing a bear with Brad. I squirted his dick and then, giving him the bear,
he squirted my pussy. Others, both armed with bears, squirted each other
simultaneously. Rebecca got down on all fours and had Chrissy squirt her
between the cheeks of her ass. It was a tense, but languid affair. We
tortured each other for perhaps an hour that way, all of us filled with
lust, yet not hurrying, taking our time, savoring what we could do to each
other with just plastic bears, and cold wine.
�How pleasant,� Pauline said at last. She looked in the wine bucket.
It was empty. We�d used it all up, slowly squirting each other. She
grinned at us.
It was then that my boyfriend embarrassed himself. Pauline noticed
that I and Rebecca and Chrissy were still wearing our bibs. She also saw
that my boyfriend was still confined in his cockrings.
�Take those off,� Pauline said, and reached to untie my bib.
�Don�t. I like it,� I said. Tweety-Bird had gotten some food stains
on him, but I felt attached to him, for some reason. Perhaps he made me
feel childish, and there was a kind of security in that. After all, they�d
spared me the dental anesthesia. I was too young for some things, and I
enjoyed knowing that they had to be careful in handling me. My bib
reminded them of my youth.
Rebecca gladly undid her bib, however, as did Chrissy. They tossed
them onto the floor.
�I can�t get these damn rings off. They�re locked on to my dick,� my
boyfriend complained.
�Get the key, honey,� Pauline told her husband. He did, and she tried
again to undo my bib, but I stopped her.
�No,� I said. �Leave it on.�
�Oh, suit yourself,� Pauline said. She placed her fingers in her cunt
and rubbed herself. �Ohhhh. I�m so hot and horny. You look like a little
baby wearing that bib, you know that?� she asked me.
I diddled my pointing finger in my slit. My other hand lifted a finger
to my mouth and I sucked on it, gazing at the men�s cocks.
�I know,� I said, over my finger. �Oooch.� A tremor coursed up
through my belly and down my thighs as I shuddered very near to an
orgasm.
�Don�t,� Pauline cautioned me. She reached between my legs and
pulled my hand away. �There�s a pleasure in waiting,� she said. �Even if
it is an agonized pleasure.�
�Ohhh, I can�t wait for it anymore,� I told her. My voice was frank.
My finger distorted my words but there was no mistaking my desires. �I
want it NOW!� I said petulantly. I shoved my hips out at her. I widened my
legs, letting all who cared to look get a very alluring view of my saucy
cunt.
�Soon,� Pauline murmured.
�Chloe, do as you are told, or I�ll spank you,� my aunt said to me.
She was lying on the floor, her face pressed to the rug. Her bottom was
hoisted up and her hand palmed the flatness of her belly.
�I want to be fucked, auntie,� I said to her. I tried to put my finger
back into my slit but Pauline kept a hand on my wrist, restraining me. I
still sucked on my other finger. I shut my eyes and sucked harder.
John Silver returned with the key for my boyfriend. He gave it to
Pauline. My aunt saw that I was going to make myself cum just as soon as
I got the chance and she reluctantly got up from the rug, where she was
making a display of her fanny, and walked over to the couch where I was
sitting. She plopped her bare bottom down beside mine. She tossed back
her long brown hair and said to John,
�She needs cuffs. She is too naughty to be left to herself.�
�Ohhh! I don�t want to be handcuffed again!� I cried.
But a moment later I was, still wearing my babyish bib, with Tweety
Bird on it, and a steel pair of handcuffs binding my wrists behind me. My
aunt made them tight and they hurt.
�Oh, please auntie, let me go!� I cried. I wiggled in my cuffs, making
my boobies sway in front of me. My nipples were risen and I felt, in my
too-tight cuffs, extraordinarily tender and vulnerable. I watched, my legs
splayed, as Pauline bent over my boyfriend to undo his penis from the
rings.
Suddenly, with her fingers caressing him inquisitively, looking for
the hole in the ring around the base of his cock, so she could insert the
key, my boyfriend began orgasming right on Pauline�s leg.
�Oh! Brad! You�re cumming!� Pauline cried. We all watched as long,
ropey spurts of semen shot out of Brad�s penis. They splattered across the
lovely tanned flesh of Pauline�s thigh. She stood over him, Brad sitting on
the couch, herself standing but bent at the waist, her lovely breasts
hanging down pendulum-like as she touched his cock in hopes of unlocking
him.
The men laughed. We girls broke into laughter too, hearing the men.
Brad watched shamefacedly as his organ continued to spontaneously spurt
out sperm.
�Hey, white boy! You�re getting white stuff all over my living room
rug!� John cried.
�Not to mention your wife,� Steve said. Pauline, feeling sorry for
Brad and not quite sure what to do, crouched down in front of him. His
spume spurted onto the nest of her pubic hair as she crouched and speckled
her belly. Her breasts, swaying in front of his organ, received the last
spurting tribute from his cock. She smiled at how messy he made her.
�That was quite a load,� Pauline said to Brad.
�I�m sorry,� Brad said, looking down at his dick.
�It�s alright,� Pauline said. �You can�t always control your
emissions.�
We watched as his cock slowly began to shrink. The rings confining
his organ became less burdensome as his dick decreased in size. Pauline,
as it turned out, didn�t have to unlock him. His penis slipped out of the
twin cock rings as it grew small and soft.
�Turn around. Let me pull that big dildo out of your butt,� Pauline
said to my boyfriend.
�Thanks,� Brad said. He hopped down off the couch. He turned, and
presented his small, hair-festooned ass to Pauline. Crouching behind him,
showing us her own glorious, perfect bottom, its ass crack glossy and
lovely in contrast to his hairy one, she yanked out the fake cock. It was
covered with a sheen of anal fluid. She asked her husband to hand her a
box of handkerchiefs. He did, along with a wastebasket. She wiped Brad�s
bottom and dropped both the big cock and the soiled kleenex in the
wastebasket. I guessed perhaps they might retrieve the cock later, to use
it again, on some future guest. Or perhaps not. They were wealthy. They
could afford to simply throw out dildos, if they wished.
Pauline was given a moistex by her husband and she wiped her hands.
They worked well together, I thought. I wondered what other tortures
they had played at. The thought made me shiver. They looked rather like a
doctor and nurse, tending my boyfriend�s butt. They were efficient,
concerned but not to the point of losing their objectivity. He was just one
more guest, in a long succession of guests they�d entertained. Suddenly I
longed to be completely at their mercy; to suffer whatever erotic
torments they wished for me, to cum and cum again under their wicked
supervision.
�John?� I asked. He looked over at me. I sat on the couch with my
legs apart, my bosoms bare and hanging down under my too-short bib. My
eyes focused on his big thing and I asked, �Do all niggers have dicks as big
as you do?�
�Chloe, don�t call me a nigger,� John answered. His voice was low
and steady. My aunt, though, blurted,
�Chloe! Bad girl!� She struck me on the side of my face with her
hand. My ears rang. A red mark burned on my cheek where her hand had hit
me.
�Nigger,� I said again. I didn�t care if my aunt slapped me again,
even if it did make me hear bells in my head. I wanted to see John get
angry. I wanted to torment him with his blackness and force him to take
out all his repressed feelings on me.
My aunt lifted her hand to strike me again but John leaned out and
caught her. He held her by her wrist. Seeing her small hand imprisoned in
his big one, she lifted her face and stretched out her neck and kissed his
fingers.
�Ohhhh. I think you�re a nigger too,� Rebecca said to John. She
darted a hand inbetween her legs and rubbed herself.
�Girls,� John said. �If either of you calls me a nigger again, I�m
going to discipline you both like you�ve never been disciplined in your life.
Only the code word you memorized, in the invitation I sent you, will be
able to save your asses.�
�What code word?� I asked. I hadn�t seen the invitation my aunt had
gotten. She looked at me. The dog collar was around her neck, as was
mine, under my bib. She looked like a pet. With an animal lust in her eyes,
she leaned over to me, and spoke a word in my ear. It was �safety.� Then,
as if to release herself from any further responsibility for me, she turned
me quickly and undid the handcuffs on my wrists. Gratefully I put my
hands out in front of me. I took hold of my wrists and rubbed them.
My aunt kissed my cheek. I felt like she was bidding me goodbye.
Then she looked up at John. �Sir, I still think you�re a nigger,� she said.
�What if I forget it?� I asked her, about the code word. But she was
already gone, mentally. She was totally focused on John and she was
intent on making him mad.
John growled. He pulled my aunt up by her hair. She shrieked. Her
bosoms bounced with a lusty freedom as John made her stand in front of
him. She bowed her head submissively.
�Girl, you are going to be so sore by morning you�ll wish I killed
you,� John said to my aunt. We all watched wide-eyed as his big black
hands, in a strange show of affection, caressed her slim shoulders and her
white, frail limbs. He seemed to be sizing her up, taking her measure,
before subjecting her to his will.
My aunt reached for the box of kleenex that had been used to wipe
Brad�s butt. She pulled several fresh kleenex out of the box. She wadded
them into a ball. Then, standing with her head bowed before John, who
towered over her, she impulsively stuffed the kleenex into her mouth.
�You can�t say the code word if your mouth is full of kleenex,� John
said to my aunt. His voice was gentle, but his hands gripped her now, by
her shoulders. He made her wince as he pressed his hands hard against
her. My aunt looked up at him. Over the kleenex, her cheeks bloated by
them and her voice distorted, she said,
�Nigger.�
�That does it!� John growled.
You can tell I was only 13 by what I did next. I grabbed one kleenex
after another from the box, until I had a whole big handful of them. I
smooshed them together. Then, staring up at John from my leg-spread
perch on the couch, looking quite cute in my Tweetie Bird bib, I said to
him,
�I think you�re a nigger too!� I laughed at the look of anger that
spread over his face. At the same time, I opened my mouth as wide as I
could and jammed the wad of kleenex into it.
John pulled me up by my hair. He grabbed the handcuffs and grabbed
my wrists. He spun me around. He locked the handcuffs onto my hands. I
was amazed at how quickly he worked. Then he turned my aunt around
also. There were no handcuffs for her, but he made her pull her hands
behind herself anyway and hold her hands there, as if they were locked
together. She obeyed. I felt a strange relish as John marched us together
out of the room. I stumbled as he pushed us ahead of him. I almost fell.
John had to catch me with his big hands to keep me from falling and
hitting my head on a table. I felt special as he gripped me and directed my
steps. Yet I knew I was in deep trouble. I shivered. Our �game,� if it could
be called that, was going to hurt. Plenty. I suddenly regretted what I�d
done. Oh, why did I have to be such a brat?
John led us downstairs. He ushered us into a room full of exercise
equipment. We gaped up at him, our mouths stuffed with kleenex, me quite
unable to free myself from my handcuffs but my aunt standing
submissively with her hands clutching her arms behind her. He patted both
of us on our bellies.
�You�ll both be full of sperm by morning,� John said. �Nigger sperm.�
My aunt and I both stared at his enormous cock. I wiggled my hips. I
wondered how I�d accept such a huge organ up between my legs. My aunt�s
eyelashes fluttered. She almost swooned, feeling his hand on her belly and
standing bare and naked before him. We were both collared, our necks
tightly bound, our legs invitingly open. Our bosoms hung off our chests
with nipples so stiff we could barely stand it. I wanted him to bite me
and eat me and make me his little slave forever. His white slave, forced
to do his bidding, forced to obey his wickedest fantasies.
Suddenly I dropped to my knees. It was impulsive. There was no
thought, just a sudden desperate need to try to take his cock in my mouth.
My aunt, seeing me kneel, squatted down beside me. With difficulty we
both spat out our wads of kleenex. Then, wild eyed and wanton, we groped
at his big black cock with our mouths. My aunt, who wasn�t handcuffed and
could have grabbed him with his hands, instead competed fair and square
with me, keeping her hands behind herself and using just her mouth. With
our lips and tongues we battled each other. Both of us wanted to catch and
contain him. I licked at the flange of his penis. She got her lips round his
pee hole and sucked it.
�Yes,� John said. �Suck me hard, slave girls. Make me cum in your
mouths.� I felt his big, hard thighs tremble. His penis throbbed.
�I want him!� I blurted to my aunt.
�Noooo,� she told me, and managed to get John�s big, pulsing
cockhead to penetrate her mouth.
�Oooooh! I want some TOO!� I gasped. I licked heartily at the rest of
him, his big straining shaft. But she had the head in her mouth and it was
she who, a moment later, received the first jets of his sperm.
�Mmmmm! Hmmmm! Ummmm! It�s too much!� my aunt cried
suddenly. Her arms flew out from behind herself, where she�d been holding
them. She pulled John�s spurting cockhead from between her lips. It was
like a big fire hose, squirting out loads of white spume.
�I�m thoisty!� I cried. I struggled, stretching my neck, to get some
of John�s lusty sperm for myself. My aunt�s mouth was overflowing with
it, yet she was greedy. She couldn�t take all he had to give, yet she didn�t
want to give him to me.
Somehow I managed to get my small mouth around the end of John�s
dick. My eyes gaped as, suddenly, his sperm-shooting penis filled up my
mouth to the bursting point. I tried to hang on. But just as he�d proven too
much for my aunt, he was too much for me. I gasped out my relief as my
aunt managed to pull his cock from my mouth and place it back in her own.
�Ooooh! I almost drowned!� I said frankly. John laughed.
�Suck, bitch!� he ordered my aunt. She drew him more deeply into
her sperm-filled mouth. She sucked and swallowed with as much
expertness as she could manage. I watched. I was learning. John�s sperm
dribbled hotly over my lips and down my chin, down my neck. I was glad I
still had my bib on.
The sperm welling up in my aunt�s mouth overcame her ability to
swallow and exploded from her lips. She gasped. John continued to spurt
as his cum ran down my aunt�s throat. It decorated her lovely white
bosoms with white, fast-running rivulets. At last his spurting subsided.
She gave a small cough. He drew himself back from her and she tried to
speak. A spermy �thank you� came from her lips.
�Mmmm, you taste wonderful!� I said. I was overwhelmed with my
passion and even though he tasted a bit too salty I complimented him
anyway. I smacked my lips.
�Get up, both of you,� John said. �We are only beginning.�
�Well, I see my husband is enjoying himself,� Pauline said. Rebecca
and I, standing up awkwardly, sperm dripping wantonly from our mouths,
gazed over toward the stairs. She was there! We both blushed, looking at
her. But there was a smile on her lips, for she held both Steve and my
boyfriend Brad by their erect penises. I gasped at how hard Brad had
already become again. But he was young. The environment was
stimulating in the extreme. I saw wetness on Pauline�s lips and guessed
she�d sucked him to make him stiff again, being rewarded by an emission
of pre-cum into her mouth.
�Oh, what are we going to do down here?� Chrissy asked. She
followed the men. There was ambivalence in her eyes. She was shy, now
that it was too late to do anything to obey. I felt like her but I also felt
frisky, as if I might do anything, needing only to be asked, or told.
�This is my husband�s a my own private health club,� Pauline said.
�And, first off, we must take both men�s blood pressure, so they don�t
strain themselves when I command them to exercise. Come here, lads,�
she said. She let go of their penises. She walked over to a blood pressure
cuff. She picked it up. She took it over to my boyfriend. I thought she
would put it around my boyfriend�s big, muscled arm. He watched the
swing of her nude breasts. He was eager to do whatever she wished. She
returned his smile. Then, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she wrapped
the blood pressure cuff around his thick penis.
�What?� Brad asked.
�You�re big enough,� Pauline said. �Now I must inflate it,� she said.
She picked up a black rubber squeeze ball. She pumped it with her small
fist. Brad watched in amazement as the cuff inflated around his penis.
�It�s cutting off the blood,� Brad gasped. I stared, wide-eyed. John
patted my fanny. With his other hand he gave my aunt a push, on her
bottom. She stepped up onto a treadmill.
�I want you to reach up and grasp that bar over your head,� John told
my aunt. I continued to watch as my boyfriend had his blood-pressure
taken, on his penis. Slowly the cuff around his cock deflated. Pauline
watched a glass dial and told my boyfriend his blood pressure when the
cuff had completely deflated.
�Is that good?� Brad asked.
�I think so,� Pauline said. �But I�m not real good at blood
pressures.� She giggled. �Your turn, Steve!� Randily he presented his
cock to her and she unwrapped the cuff from my boyfriend�s organ and put
it around his.
My aunt, meanwhile, was holding on to a cross beam above her head
while John fitted restraints around her wrists. If she let go of the beam, I
guessed the restraints would hold her, although I wondered why, standing
on a treadmill, she needed to have her hands bound above her.
�It�s so she doesn�t run with her hands clutching her bottom,� John
told me. My aunt looked back over her shoulder at me. She waggled her
bottom.
�I told you this party was for adults,� she said to me.
�Quiet,� John said. �I�m going to put a rubber bit in your mouth.�
�I won�t be able to say the code word,� my aunt said.
�I know,� John said.
My aunt said nothing in reply. In the distance Steve shouted as the
cuff, tightening around his penis, made him suddenly spurt on the floor. It
was his first orgasm.
�Make sure you clean that mess up,� John told his wife. �I don�t
want my exercise room stinking of white boys� sperm.�
�Don�t worry, dear,� Pauline answered. She and Chrissy giggled as
they watched Steve spurt himself all over the floor. Steve blushed but the
girls assured him that it couldn�t be helped, that his dick had been on a
hair trigger from all the excitement and it was okay if he needed a little
relief. �You�ll have better control now that you�ve let off a little steam,�
Pauline assured him. �Right, Brad?�
�God, I hope so,� my boyfriend answered. His own cock stuck out
forthrightly. He�d survived the blood pressure test so I guess Pauline was
right about males needing to shoot some sperm out in order to better
control themselves.
�I�ll lick it up,� Chrissy said, looking down at her husband�s sperm
on the floor. She knelt and, with cat-like grace, began feeding upon the
pale puddle of fluid.
�Mmmm. Good girl,� Pauline complimented her. She put the blood
pressure cuff away.
My aunt opened her mouth and passively accepted the rubber bit that
John fitted between her lips. He laced it with cords to the back of her
neck. He drew out her mane of hair so that it hung freely down her back,
uninhibited by the lacings around her neck. She stood on her toes, on the
treadmill, clutching at the bar over her head. Her wrists pulled at the
restraints buckled around them. They were made of leather.
�I�m going to turn on the treadmill,� John told my aunt. �You will
run, as fast as you�re able. I know you girls like to wear a bra when you go
jogging, to protect your bosoms, but today you will not have any bra. Your
breasts will bounce freely from your exertion.� He touched each of her
nipples, making them stiffen even more against the press of his calloused
finger. �And I have another treat for you,� John said. �Have you ever
needed to pee when you�re out jogging? Well, you can�t expect me to stop
the treadmill just so you can go use the potty. I expect a good, hard run
from you today. Not the usual sort of half-assed run that I often see girls
perform, at the health club I sometimes go to on shore. You girls--
sometimes I think you only go to a health club to pick up guys. Not today,
Rebecca. Today you will actually have a good, long jog. And so you can pee
while you�re jogging I�m going to insert a catheter up into your urethra.
I�ll inflate a ball when it�s reached up into your bladder, so it doesn�t fall
out.�
�No!� my aunt cried. Her eyes swam wildly in her head. She looked
to me, to Pauline, for help, but I only stared, awe-struck my John�s
maliciousness. His wife laughed.
�It will be good to see her having a nice run,� Pauline said. Chrissy,
on her lips licking up her husband�s spilt sperm, said something in
agreement, but she was too busy licking to say it properly, and I didn�t
hear it.
Soon my aunt hung from the overhead bar with a greased catheter
threaded up between her long legs. The plastic tube hung down in front of
her, like some weird female substitute for a man�s dong, and it was
connected to an empty bag that waited for her pee to fill it. John undid my
handcuffs. He placed a whip in my hands. I stared at my aunt, standing
barefoot on the treadmill.
�Chloe, you�re going to whip you�re auntie�s bottom as she runs on
the treadmill,� John told me. �Do it hard. Don�t spare her. She�s going to
have a good long run today and she�s going to make her boobies bounce all
around for my pleasure and entertainment. And just so she knows she�s
been bad, by calling me a nigger, I�m going to film her having her run. The
boys at my all-black bar will enjoy seeing her this friday night, when I
show them sports flicks. She�ll make a nice intermission.�
�You�re going to make a movie out of her?� I asked, my voice
quavering.
�Yes,� John said. �She may grow old in time, but she�ll be forever 19
in the movie I�ll make of her. Young and boldly running, trying to escape
the whip you�re going to lash across her behind.�
�You�re evil,� I told him.
�I�m starting the treadmill now,� he said. John walked to the front
of the machine. He leaned over it. My aunt, her hands cuffed over her head,
watched with fearful eyes as John selected a running course for her. Then
he asked her how much she weighed. My aunt mumbled a response through
the bit. �Hmmm,� John said. �I forgot about the gag. I guess I�ll just have
to figure your weight myself. He glanced back at me, standing behind her,
holding the whip. �Chloe, do you know how much your aunt weighs?�
�Um, 257 pounds,� I said. Then I broke into giggles. �Minus her butt,
of course. But if you add in her butt, then it�s more like 457.� I looked at
him, still laughing delightedly, and added, with a glance down at his penis,
�Nigger.�
John refused my invitation. Perhaps I wanted him to chase me
around the room. Perhaps I hoped he�d attack me, and I�d be sufficiently
dexterous with the whip, slashing at his cock, that I could actually keep
him at bay. But instead of neglecting my aunt and coming after me, he
simply figured my aunt�s weight himself.
�You�re pretty skinny,� he said to my aunt. �Look! I can see every
one of your ribs sticking out. And you have a small little butt. Nice and
round, though. And you have long, slim legs. But you have big, bouncy
bosoms. Hmmmm. And a lovely mane of long hair. Okay, there,� he said.
He punched in some numbers. Then he pressed the �start� button.
�I�m sorry I called you a nigger,� I said to John, meekly.
�You�re still going on the treadmill next,� he said impassively to me.
A shiver raced up my spine.
�Me?� I cried.
The treadmill began moving and my aunt began walking on it. Then it
went faster. She had to begin jogging. Her large, succulent breasts, their
nipples stiff and high, began bouncing rhythmically on her chest.
�That�s it,� John said to her. He gazed at her with warm eyes, like a
trainer guiding a pupil. His penis began to stiffen. He glanced back at me.
�Use the whip,� he said. �But only on her bottom.�
�I-I don�t know if I can control it. I�ve never done this before,� I
said. Awkwardly I dangled the whip in front of me. I gave it a slight flick
and it sailed out away from me. It made just the slightest nipping contact
with my aunt�s behind. She gasped audibly. She jerked in her steps. Her
lovely white bottom cheeks, looking like a rabbit�s tail in contrast to her
tanned back and thighs, contracted visibly.
�Mmmm, lovely. Isn�t she jumpy, though?� Pauline asked, sauntering
over to us. She dropped a handful of creams and lotions on the floor next
to the treadmill. �You�ll both need these for your bottoms after my
husband is finished giving you your run,� she said to me. I looked down at
the creams and clapped a hand over the back of my ass.
�Ooooh! I don�t want my bottom to hurt!� I said in a jittery voice.
Pauline kissed my cheek. �It�s lovely, don�t you think? Sometimes
we invite a couple down here, not telling them of our plans, and we say,
�C�mon, let�s work out.� And since they didn�t bring any work out clothes
we all strip down to our underpants and bikini panties and bras. And then
the men start working out, sweating and groaning, and all the girls playing
on the equipment and watching them, and pretty soon someone, perhaps my
husband, says, �Why not work out in the nude? The ancient Greeks did.�
And so a girl boldly takes off her top. Or a man, feeling constricted by his
underpants with females adoring his every movement, peels down his
shorts. And the next thing you know we�ve got a ball-busting, cherry-
popping party going on down here!�
�Yes, very good,� I said, listening to her only distractedly. I was
still palming the back of my ass and looking worriedly at the creams
waiting for me on the floor. Waiting for my butt to be flogged!
�Last week, we had a minister and his wife over,� Pauline said. �He
was big and strong and she was quite a beauty, but they�re not the sort of
people who necessarily know how to party, you know what I mean?�
Pauline asked me. �And you can�t even really say, �Do you want to cum sit
in our sauna?� because everyone knows you have to basically get naked to
do that. The same with the jacuzzi. It�s so warm and comfy. They were
both Calvinists. You know how they are. So we said, well, you know,
�Health! Isn�t health important? Let�s work out!� So we did, and that
minister, once his collar was off, proved to have a very healthy penis, let
me tell you!�
�You�ll corrupt everybody on the whole planet,� I said to Pauline.
She kissed me again.
�It�s all in the wrist, dear,� she said. �Here, give me the whip and
I�ll show you.� She took it from me. I was grateful to get rid of it. The
long, black leather with its sharp tip scared me. Pauline smiled at my
aunt�s heinie as she ran on the treadmill. She pulled the whip across her
palm and studied my aunt�s bottom for a moment. Its cheeks flexed in
time to the thudding motion of her feet upon the moving rubber track.
SWWWWIIIICK!
Pauline let the whip fly. It struck my aunt�s behind. She let out a
shrill mewling sound. She leapt up onto her toes as she continued to dash
forward. Her hands tried to yank themselves down from the overhead bar
but the cuffs held them. She could not protect herself. Her bosoms
bounced more frantically as she increased the speed of her running, trying
to escape the whip.
�Here. Now you try it,� Pauline said to me. Calmly she handed the
whip back to me. I took the big knouted handle in my small palms and felt
its weight. It was carved from ivory. It was black and highly polished. It
had been lewdly carved in the shape of a penis. I handled it with
trepidation. �Don�t be frightened of it,� Pauline told me.
�I am-- because it�s going to do me next!� I told her frankly. Pauline
smiled.
�Perhaps you can lessen the number of strokes you�ll receive, by
applying it correctly and forcefully to your aunt�s bottom,� Pauline said.
Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and I should have known her suggestion
was only a ruse, but I was 13 and naive. In addition to that, a strange
excitement was beginning to fill me. Imagine! Getting to whip my aunt on
her big bottom! Well, perhaps it was a decidedly pert bottom, but it was
the bottom of an older girl, and so bigger than mine, so that qualified it as
a big bottom, in my opinion. But if she were worried about her bottom
getting too big, all this exercise would surely prevent that!
�I guess I would be helping her,� I said, feeling my nipples lengthen
and the space between my legs grow moist. I rose up on my toes. My flat
belly tautened, making my ribs stick out more. I lifted my arm.
SWWWWAAAAAK!
I slashed the whip down across my aunt�s fanny. She shouted within
her gag and ran leapingly fast upon the treadmill. Her arms yanked at her
overhead bonds. Her head twisted back toward me. Her long brown hair
tumbled and streamed over her shoulders. John, standing in front of her,
laughed at the shaking of her bosoms.
�Very good,� Pauline told me. �Keep it up, make it hard, and perhaps
you�ll spare yourself any whipping at all. Don�t hit her thighs. My husband
doesn�t like that. Just go for the bottom. Sting it nicely for her so she�s
inspired to run at her very best.�
�Okay!� I said excitedly. I glanced again at the creams and lotions
laid out on the floor, and hoped only my aunt would need them. I felt a
wanton excitement at seeing my aunt�s bottom marked by a whip-- and me
doing it!
�Remember always to strive for gracefulness in your whipping,�
Pauline told me. She tossed back her long black hair. She smiled. �It�s
not true punishment we�re seeking, but a kind of inspiration. Push your
aunt to a level of erotic excitement she�s never experienced before. Let
her feel her unfettered bosoms wobbling and bouncing around on her chest.
Let her enjoy the brazenness of her naked bottom, suffering, but enticing
men�s eyes as it suffers. Let her enjoy the length of her long legs, freely
running, giving their all, as she tries to escape the whip, only to feel it
again and again. Wait between strokes so she can feel each one as its laid
across her fanny. Don�t give them rapidly. Make her anxious for each one.
Make her sweat for each one, urgently trying to tighten her bottom against
the inevitable sting. Then, when she�s in a panic from all the waiting,
when she�s absolutely desperate for it and can�t stand to wait anymore,
knowing how much it will hurt, then calmly let fly with another stroke.
Slice into her skin to make her howl.�
�Ooooh! I don�t want to make her bottom bleed!� I said. Pauline
laughed.
�Perhaps I was too expressive in my comments, hmmm?� she asked.
�My husband doesn�t often wish for that. No, dear, don�t make her bleed.
But don�t be a pansy either. She�s a big girl, nineteen-years-old. She can
take it. She has a lovely fatted bottom and will appreciate you keeping it
nice and trim for her. With a good whipping every day, on my husband�s
treadmill, she�ll be sure to keep her figure for many years to cum.�
�I hope we don�t stay here that long,� I said. �I have to go home at
the end of the summer, so I can start eighth grade!�
�Quit talking back there,� John called out. �This isn�t the Oprah
Winfrey show.�
�Go ahead, hit her,� Pauline said to me. �And I�ll see that your
boyfriend keeps in shape.�
�Ooook! Don�t! He�s my boyfriend!� I said. I watched her walk away.
She moved with a salaciousness of her own bottom that caused me to feel
all tingly up between my legs, at the entrance to my womb. Oh, if only I
could be as lovely and sexy as her when I grew up! Brad stood, watching as
she strolled over to him, her big African bosoms wobbling below her
matchstick-frail shoulders. She had a model�s body, small boned, but with
long Tutsi-like legs, a slender waist, and a mane of black European-style
hair tumbling down her back. She was the best of all races, summed up in
one. A Gazelle-like poise, a supple figure, with nourishing big bosoms
that could suckle tribes of African herdsmen out on the plains. She tossed
back her hair again, loving the feel of it as it swayed across her back.
Brad, watching her, became visibly excited. His penis lengthened and
thickened. She knelt and took him into her mouth and sucked him. I felt
jealousy, but felt too as if I was witnessing the very combination of flesh
that had made Pauline the girl she was. Long ago, some Negress slave
must have done the same, taking into her mouth the cock of her white
master, sucking him dry between her lips.
�Don�t,� Brad said. He trembled. His hips flexed.
�I only wish to please you, sir,� Pauline replied, looking up at him,
speaking, with difficulty, over the big plum of his cockhead which rested
on her tongue. Brad put his hands to her cheeks and drew her face back.
�Let me work out a little,� he said. He cast a guilty glance at me. I
turned away. I tossed back my own mane of blonde hair and let my whip
sing through the air. I pretended to ignore him. I pretended to be too busy
to see how hard she made him. I felt like hitting him on his ass with my
whip but instead I took out my jealousy on my aunt.
�Wa-hoooo!� my aunt sobbed as I let a particularly vicious cut go
singing into her fanny. I saw a bright red streak mark her bottom where
I�d hit her.
�Yes,� I thought. �That�s what you get for making my boyfriend get
his cock sucked by Pauline.�
Brad, meanwhile, hoping to retain his seed for a little while, walked
over to a bench press. His hobby was weight lifting and he seemed
genuinely interested in having a short workout on Pauline and John�s nice
equipment. He sat down on the bench press and lay back. He scooted his
head under the big barbell. Steve, his own cock beginning to recover,
walked up to the bench press. He looked down at Brad.
�How much weight do you want on this barbell?� Steve asked.
�Put 150 pounds on it,� Brad said. I sensed a cockiness in his voice.
He�d walked away from Pauline, but his male need to show off was still
with him. His penis, between his hairy thighs, stuck up like the
Washington Monument. There was a casualness to the way he lay on the
bench, his legs apart, his big balls resting on the end of the bench, that
was due to years of working out. I wondered if he knew how deliciously
his loins were presented to us by his posture on the bench. I gazed at him.
He looked so... virile. There was no other word for it. Steve, his own cock
growing harder by the second, hefted several big iron Olympic plates onto
each end of the barbell.
�Let me spot you,� Pauline said, dancing up to the bench press. Brad
grunted that he would allow it, and she bent over him. Her big heavy red-
nippled breasts hung down over his face.
�Aughgh!� Brad said, about to exert himself in lifting the barbell. I
think the closeness of her bosoms unnerved him. A moment later he had
even greater cause to moan-- Pauline snapped a pair of handcuffs over
each of his wrists and looped the chain connecting the cuffs over the
barbell�s bar.
Brad looked up at the steel bar, laden with weights, that straddled
his face. For a moment he just stared. Then, still desiring to show off, he
lifted the bar anyway, and began bench pressing it. How strange it was, to
see him bench pressing a bar that he was handcuffed to! With each
repetition, the bar became heavier for him. As he neared the end of his set
Chrissy suddenly appeared at his feet. She had iron manacles in her hands.
With an approving smile from Pauline, she knelt down and fastened first
one of Brad�s ankles, then the other, to the legs of the bench press.
I gasped. My boyfriend was a captive! He struggled to complete his
set, shocked at his predicament. Steve, in fact, was the one who �spotted�
him, helping him replace the bar back on the two support posts that held it
safely over his head.
�Now it�s time for our work out!� Chrissy cried. She fetched a jar of
lubricant from a nearby table and took great gobs of it with her small
fingers and spread it over Brad�s penis.
�Hey!� Brad shouted. He looked down at himself.
�My, such a nice, stiff tongue you have, sir,� Pauline laughed. She
placed her hands on his sweaty, heaving chest. She sat down, right on his
face. Brad let out a cry of surprise. At the same time Chrissy finished
lubing his erection and settled herself on it. Steve, watching, looked
somewhat disconsolate at seeing his wife slide with a satisfied groan
down my boyfriend�s long penis. She wriggled, adjusting his length in
herself. She bit her lip.
�Ah, God he�s wonderful... once you get- ugh, oooh! Used to how big
he is,� Chrissy told Pauline.
�He has a big tongue, too!� Pauline said cheerfully to Chrissy. �Yeek!
He�s sticking it up me! Oh! I didn�t know it was *that* long!�
�Mmmmm,� Chrissy sighed. A pained expression crossed her face
and then she began bouncing upon my boyfriend. �Look, honey, I�m fucking
another man,� she told her husband.
�I can see that,� Steve said. There was an angry look on his face.
But, at the same time, he became completely stiff. He put his fist to his
penis and began pulling on it.
�Ooooh, he�s trying to impregnate me with his tongue,� Pauline told
Chrissy.
�He is impregnating me. I can feel him right up against the back of
my womb!� Chrissy replied.
�Lucky girl,� Pauline said.
�It hurts a little,� Chrissy advised her.
�I can�t wait,� Pauline said. Both girls now began humping my
boyfriend. With a jealous look on my face, I gave my aunt another
smarting blow of the whip. She shrieked. John laughed. His penis became
large and hard as he watched the erotic scene unfolding before him. It
was, I thought, rather like being in a medieval torture chamber, except
here the confessions of pain were mixed with those of pleasure.
�Do you really want to get pregnant by each others� husbands and
carry each others� children?� Chrissy asked Pauline.
�Yes! It would be so rad,� Pauline answered. �Imagine! You have my
child, by my husband. And I have yours.�
�Then we shall,� Chrissy said. �Tomorrow, instead of taking our
pills, we won�t. And when it seems we�re ready, we�ll have a kind of
celebration.�
�Yes!� Pauline said. �We can dress up in sexy bridal gowns. Gowns
that, you know, don�t cover too much. Then after the ceremony we�ll bed
down and go for it.�
�Fine,� Chrissy said. �I can hardly wait!�
With that both women bounced heartily on my boyfriend, practising
on him so they�d be ready for the big event tomorrow. I gave my aunt
another slash across her behind. It looked like she�d get to share Brad
with me tomorrow, if the two women were mated off with the two other
men. Perhaps, though, she�d be drafted into being the minister. Then I
could marry Brad. I�d have him all to myself for the rest of our stay here.
That sounded like an excellent idea. I gave my aunt another stinging bite
of the whip. I shouted to her that I wanted her to be a priest.
Unfortunately, she was too pained in her bottom to understand me. She
simply ran faster, her hair streaming behind her and her bottom beginning
to look like a road map.
30
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