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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
TORTURED TEEN
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Chapter Two
�She certainly squirms a lot,� Jill, sitting across from me, observed.
I blushed. I had been introduced to Jill and her husband as a friend,
without any special words of explanation. I was dressed as any college-
age girl might be, in a tie-died t-shirt, knotted below my breasts to show
off the flatness of my bare belly. I wore no bra. My nipples poked stiffly
into the fabric of my shirt, attracting the interest of Jill�s husband. But
any girl might dress this way, casual yet provocative. Jeans hugged my
hips, slung low to almost reveal the waistband of my panties. The guests
could hardly know how painful it was for me to be wearing snug jeans
after having my bottom caned. I shifted in my seat, trying hard to sit
calmly but finding it quite impossible.
There had been no mention made of our game, of how I�d consented to
be Norman�s 12-year-old daughter, of how Heather had given me the first
taste of the cane upstairs and how only a profusion of kisses and kind
words from Norman had persuaded me to stay.
Now I sat, red-bottomed, wiggling my flaming behind in my seat, and
Jill was speaking of me, like one might of a child, rather than to me. Jill
was a professor, like Norman. He taught Biology, she taught Political
Science. �Gender Politics,� to be exact, and I could see that my fidgeting
was incompatible with her view that a girl should be mature, strong, and
assertive. I think, too, that when I came down late to dinner, my hips
waggling, she was displeased by the fact that her husband, to whom she�d
been speaking, tore his eyes away from her and looked at me.
�She�s had a nice walk this afternoon with my husband,� Heather
said, putting a forkful of quiche in her mouth. She chewed slowly and
looked at me. I looked down at my plate and said, in all honesty,
�I don�t like quiche.�
�Eat it. Spinach is good for you,� Norman told me.
�Don�t you have anything else?� I asked.
�She probably wants macaroni,� Jill told her husband. But his eyes
were fixed on my sprouted nipples, pressing hard into my t-shirt.
�You could at least have seen that she put on a bra,� Jill said in a
low voice to Norman.
�She�ll be staying with us all weekend,� Heather said. I guessed she
wished to change the subject for she looked at Greg, Jill�s husband, and
asked, �How is your law school coming?�
�Fine,� Greg answered.
�Didn�t you used to be in the military?� Heather asked.
�Yes,� Greg said. He managed to quit staring at my tits and smiled
first at Heather, then at Jill. �Until I found this lady to pay my way
through professional school,� he said.
Jill�s Story:
Finally my husband has stopped staring at that girl. What does he
see in her, anyway? She�s just some ditty freshman. She has nice boobs,
but what�s that compared to me? I have a Ph.D. I swear, I thought Greg
wasn�t that sort of guy, the kind who falls all over a girl for her body.
Mine looks nice. What does he think he�s grabbing every night when we�re
in bed together? I�ll have to give him some �titty training� or something.
Maybe if I withhold my boobs from him for a week he�ll quit looking at
what other girls have.
Geez, there he goes again, looking at her chest. Is he trying to
provoke me? Perhaps that�s it. He wants me to whip his cute ass. I
swear, if he doesn�t stop looking at that girl I�ll yank his pants down right
here in front of our guests and whip him with his own belt!
Why are that girl�s nipples so stiff? It�s bad enough she�s decided to
�go casual� and not wear a bra. But her titties look like they�ve had an
electric shock driven through them. What�s got her so excited? Is it my
husband? I ought to pull both their pants down and give them a strapping!
Norman�s Story:
Greg can�t take his eyes off little Emily. God, her ass must hurt
from the way my wife caned her! I put lotion on it afterward. She liked
that, but what she really was craving was my cock. I couldn�t give her
that. Not yet, anyway. Heather is calling the shots on this one and she
wants me to stay full and ready all night.
Emily�s Story:
Greg glanced at his wife. He cleared his throat. She was still
frowning, because he was still glued to my chest. I sensed he was annoyed
that his wife didn�t want him looking at my tits. Of course, she wasn�t
just irritated at him. She was pissed at me too, for coming to dinner
without a bra on. But it was the weekend. I liked being casual on the
weekend and, more importantly, Heather had ordered me not to wear a bra.
So I blushed and smiled meekly at Greg, as he drank in my tits.
�I saw a little girl today,� Greg said, not taking his eyes off my
breasts but glancing, ever so briefly, at Norman. A look of surprise briefly
crossed Norman�s face. Then, sensing his friend�s distress at not being
able to admire my breasts without upsetting his wife, Norman decided to
play along. With a debonair flourish of his fork, eating his quiche, Norman
replied:
�Really?�
�Yes,� Greg said.
�A minor?� Norman asked.
�Yes,� Greg said.
�Really, if a girl is only 17, you shouldn�t,� Norman began, but Greg
interrupted and said,
�Seventeen? No, no. Try eleven.�
�Eleven?!� Norman asked. Heather frowned. Jill�s face reddened.
�Yes, indeed,� Greg said. �She was very cute. I noticed her
immediately. She had long brown hair. It almost reached to her waist.
God, what hair! Full and rich. Of course, it being summer, she had an
exquisite tan.�
�Ah yes,� Norman said. �Little girls do tan so nicely, don�t they?
They don�t even need suntan lotion. They just play in the sun all day and
develop a perfect tan.�
�But their bottoms stay white where they wear their swimsuit,�
Greg said.
�You saw her bottom?� Norman asked.
�No, unfortunately,� Greg said.
By now Jill was as red as a tomato, caught somewhere between
embarrassment and rage. Greg, however, had taken his eyes off my chest,
so entranced was he with his story.
�And of course she had a perfect body,� Greg said. �She was just
starting to grow her breasts. How pert and youthful they looked! And her
waist was narrowing, even as her hips took on a noticeable flare. Such a
sweet package she made-- her small, lovely body, with her curving hips
and her budding breasts.�
�Well now,� Norman said. �You must describe her in fuller detail
than that.� (I sensed he could barely keep from laughing, for now his own
wife was blushing.) �In my opinion, for a girl to be really fine, she must
have a small midriff, compared to her legs. The midriff/legs ratio is
crucial. If her ass is at the midpoint between her head and her toes, then
she�s only ordinary, doomed to have �chicken legs� as she grows older.�
�No! No!� Greg said. �This girl had an exquisite midriff/leg ratio.
Her midriff was small and compact, as I�ve said, leaving a good two-thirds
of her body to be completely legs!�
�Ahhhhhh!� Norman said. He leaned back in his chair and I could see
he was picturing the girl in his mind�s eye. At the same time I realized
that, even though I was older, I had exactly the midriff/leg ratio the men
were talking about! Did that mean that when I was 11, walking to school
and wherever I went, men were secretly analyzing me and remarking to
themselves how beautiful I was?
�Yes,� Greg said. �A perfect little package.�
�How about her face?� Norman asked. �A girl�s got to have a cute
face if she�s to be truly top notch.�
�It was very cute,� Greg replied. �A small nose, a small chin,
everything perfect. And on top of that, she had the nicest eyes.
Mischievous eyes, inquisitive, precocious.�
�Ahhhhh!� Norman said. He was looking slightly above Greg�s head,
as if the girl Greg was describing was an angel floating just above his
companion.
�Truly, there is nothing better than a perfectly-shaped, precocious
11-year-old girl,� Greg commented.
�No indeed,� Norman agreed.
�She was with her mother,� Greg said. �And of course her mother
superintended her as if she were just a child. You know how women are...
deathly afraid of their daughters, so they handle them in a way that says,
always, �You�re just a child, you�re just a child, you�re just a child...� They
way they talk to them, the way they interact with them, the way they
walk around with them. But of course the girl, while still just young
enough to put up with such nonsense, nonetheless has a little mischievous
streak in her that you can see in her eyes.�
�Yes!� Norman agreed. �It�s a bit of a cross between the addle-
brained, bona-fide child, and the curiously inquisitive young woman that
she is becoming.�
�It is so nice to see a girl who is balanced just so, on the edge,
between being a silly child and a young lady,� Greg said.
�Yes,� Norman agreed.
�Especially if she�s cute,� Greg said.
�And she was?� Norman said.
�Indeed! The very cutest!� Greg said. �Weren�t you listening as I
described her? Should I describe her again?�
�I was so overcome by your description, it would be helpful if you
told it to me again, more slowly,� Norman said.
�That�s it!� Jill shouted. She jumped up from the table. Greg looked
crestfallen when he saw how angry she�d become.
�Oh, honey! I was just funning you!� Greg said.
�It�s not fun to talk about little GIRLS!� Jill shouted at her husband.
Greg winced and turned away from his wife, who stood over him now,
shouting. Unfortunately, as he took his eyes off his wife he reverted to
his previous object of attention, before he�d started his story. He looked
again at my tits. �We�re going home!� Jill shouted to her husband.
Reluctantly Greg got up from the table. I looked at Heather and saw
she was gazing at her plate. They�d picked the wrong couple to experiment
with. Either that, or Greg had let himself get too carried away with his
nonsensical story about some little girl.
�Be seeing you, old chap,� Greg said to Norman.
�Unplug the cuisinart when you get home,� Norman replied.
�Ah yes,� Greg said. �I suppose I�ll have to lock up the kitchen
knives too.�
�The joys of matrimony,� Norman said, in a subdued voice, with a
quick glance at his wife. But Heather wasn�t as upset by the story as Jill
and, in any event, her husband had only been playing along with his friend.
In addition to which, of course, the two of them were still playing out the
fantasy that I was their 12-year-old daughter.
As he left the dining room, Greg glanced back one last time. His eyes
fell yet again on my tits. I shivered, shocked that he should still be
thinking of my bosoms with his wife so upset. I guessed that their
marriage might be on its last leg.
30
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