NND

This is FUN! I want MORE!

This is STUPID! I want LESS!

GET me back to the MAIN PAGE

HELP! I have to go to the BATHROOM

Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
TRAINING ACADEMY

Chapter One

Was she falling in love with a woman? She couldn't be sure. The couple was dashingly handsome. All eyes were upon them as they mingled in the room, or so it seemed to Emily, fresh from her college exams and still dressed in the ripped jeans and t-shirt she'd worn to take them in. Life was becoming mundane for Emily. She had been looking forward to college but the sorority had turned out to be nothing but snot-nosed chicks, who seemed jealous of her beauty. For Emily was very beautiful, even if it wasn't apparent as she stood at the back of the room at the party, watching the glamorous young couple mingling with the other guests. Emily often purposely dressed this way, in grunge clothing, for she had like Kurt Cobain when she was younger and the plainness of her clothing seemed to give her a retreat from the stares she would otherwise get if she dressed more fashionably. With her wide blue eyes Emily watched the man and the woman, so comfortable in the limelight, under the stares that made Emily cringe when she attracted that kind of attention. She wished she could be like the woman she was looking at now, easily accepting all that attention, living within it and absorbing it and growing from it, instead of feeling crushed by it, as Emily did.

Perhaps it was because her step-mom had always been jealous of her that Emily had taken to disliking her beauty. That, and how every guy, no matter how handsome or nerdy, hit on her. Guys who would feel shy about talking to a less attractive girl seemed unable to help themselves when they saw Emily. She was the sort they just had to talk to, the kind they would kill themselves over for not talking to if they let the chance slip by. So everyone, it seemed, made the attempt to get hold of her. To make her their girlfriend. Yes, there were several tiers of girls, as Emily had learned over the years. On the bottom rung, or perhaps underneath it, lying on the floor, were girls so ugly that no man would be caught dead speaking to them, unless he were desperate, and then afterwards, after doing it to her, he would flee as soon as his conscience returned.

Next up were girls who weren't too attractive, which guys used as a sort of 'back stop'. This was the sort of girl you fucked when you were having bad luck, the 'put a bag over head' sort.

Or perhaps that was the next rung up, Emily wasn't quite sure. In any event somewhere above that were girls who were attractive, but not in any smashingly beautiful sort of way. These were the girls who served male needs in an ordinary way, the kind most men wound up marrying.

Then there were the beautiful girls. These were the girls who guys felt shy about asking out. The ones who complained that they didn't get enough dates because too many guys were afraid of how nice they looked.

And, finally, there was Emily. The truly awesome girls. The kind that every man felt he just had to ask. Which was why Emily had taken to grunge, besides liking Kurt, to assuage her step-mom's jealously and to escape from all the panting guys. Not that it necessarily worked. Even now Emily could feel several pairs of male eyes upon her, as she put her punch glass up to her lips, trying to hide her face with it. She could feel the men undressing her, but she kept her eyes on the glamorous couple, the couple so easy under all those stares, and to her surprise, though she was tucked way back at the back of the room, she found the so-pretty glamorous young wife meeting her eyes, returning her stare.

She seemed to be coming toward Emily. The crowd parted to let her and her husband pass, though reluctantly, wanting to be a part of their beauty and glamour, to hold on to it. To Emily's blushing surprise she found the woman coming up to her, even as she held her punch glass protectively up in front of her mouth, wishing it was bigger and she could hide her whole face behind it.

"Hello," the glamorous woman said to Emily. The words seemed to drip off her lips, like honey. "My name's Beth. And yours?"

Emily felt her glass quivering in her hand. She lowered it a little. The woman was truly gorgeous, perhaps 23, her husband, standing tall and grand beside her, about 25. Eighteen-year-old Emily managed to get her glass below her chin and whispered her name:

"Emily."

"Such a nice name," Beth said to her husband. "Oh, this is Mark. My boyfriend," Beth said. Emily gasped. They were not married! She let her eyes flick up to the man's face. He was truly handsome; a god. She felt like she was meeting her favorite movie star, though she had not even known he'd existed until the couple had walked in the room, just ten minutes ago. She blushed and smiled at him. "I think she likes you," Beth remarked to her husband, bringing titters from the assembled host, those nearby enough to hear. Emily's blush deepened. Yet something in the way the woman had said that intrigued her, as if she were a little puppy, and the woman her newfound master. It was a strange thought. The woman reached out and Emily felt the warm press of her hand coming into her own. She squeezed Emily's palm, as if to reassure her that her remark had not been meant to be demeaning. And yet the callous streak remained in this glamorous woman as she turned again to her husband and said, "I would so much like to take her home." There were more titters. But Emily seemed to hear a sigh of desire in this new round of laughter, as if, noticing her for the first time, seeing through her grunge clothing, the crowd seemed to agree.

Much to Emily's surprise, she found herself leaving the party two hours later under the woman's umbrella. It had taken to raining outside, Emily was warm from dancing with a forgettable assortment of men, and with the entirely unforgettable boyfriend of Beth. Emily's hand was in the woman's hand, as she held her umbrella over them both.

"I'm so glad you decided to let us give you a ride home," the woman was saying to Emily. "My, it's wet outside. And to think you'd have gotten drenched if you hadn't come with us. Didn't you know rain was predicted?"

"No," Emily said. "I just got through with college exams."

"I don't think we're the only ones who would have offered Emily a ride," Mark said as they reached the couple's car by the curb.

"Yes but the others were so entirely uninteresting, don't you think dear?" Beth asked the girl.

"Yes," Emily agreed.

"I could see the look on your face as you danced with them," Beth said. "Really it was rather a tedious crowd. More football players than I prefer. They have their use of course, but such a one-track mind. Now last week Mark took me to a party where there were a lot of artists. They don't have much money but they can provide such scintillating conversation!" Mark opened the car door. Beth put Emily into the car and followed her, after closing her umbrella. Mark went round to the other side of the car, after closing the passenger-side door, and got in and started it. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Beth asked Emily in the darkness of the car. They pulled out into traffic as Emily answered,

"No. Not since I started college."

"What? No boyfriend? And here it is almost Christmas. Well, almost Thanksgiving, actually, but I work in the fashion and planning section of a department store and we're getting everything ready for Christmas. Really rushing at it, you know, so we can hit the customers with a big 'oomph' the day after Thanksgiving. Did you have a boyfriend in high school?" Beth asked the girl who was squeezed into the front seat between herself and her boyfriend.

"Yes. Several," Emily said. "Mostly I found myself in the back seats of their cars."

"High school boys are like college boys," Beth said. "One track minds."

"It was okay," Emily said. She didn't want to sound like a prude.

"Of course it's okay," Beth said, and startled Emily by putting her hand on the girl's thigh. But after a quick blush, which Beth fortunately couldn't see in the dark, Emily found she liked the warm feeling of the woman's hand grasping her jean-clad leg. The fabric was thin. She could feel the woman's pressing fingers, like a spider that, to Emily's surprise, began to work its way up her leg towards her crotch.

"My boyfriend and I have never been exclusive in our love for one another," Emily found Beth telling her when they had reached their apartment, Emily being invited inside for a quick nightcap before they took her home. She was sitting in a state-of-the-art fashionably appointed apartment. Beth's job as a fashion planner for a department store really showed. It must be an upscale department store, Emily mused, as she looked at the magazine-perfect furnishings. It was all quite a change from her dimly-lit shared dorm room, with garish posters of Axel Rose on the walls, tattered from one of her roommate's boyfriends throwing jealous darts at it, and an old ripped poster of dead rocker Kurt.

"My, it's really starting to pour outside," Mark said, standing at the curtains that covered a big picture window and edging them apart to look outside. "How would you like to stay the night?" Mark asked Emily. The girl felt herself blushing again. It was forward sort of thing to ask, but like Beth's tendency to treat her like a puppy it had a certain allure.

"I-I don't know," Emily answered.

"She's quite shy," Beth said, and startled Emily again by putting her arm around her. Beth was grinning at her husband but Emily felt as if all the woman's attention was really directed at her, as she felt the woman's hand on her shoulder, clasping it as she had clasped her thigh in the car.

"I wouldn't want to get wet," Emily said, hearing for the first time the sound of the downpour outside as its intensity increased.

"Yes. Already your clothes are little moist from hurrying in from our car," Beth said. She looked at her own clothes. "Mine are moist too," she said disapprovingly. Emily's clothes felt dry enough, she thought to herself, as she felt the woman's arm clasping her, but there was an obvious dampness to the air outside and she had been exposed to it, as well as the uncomfortable chill that the night air had descended into. Seemingly reading her thoughts Beth said, "Of course it isn't a noticeable moistness, but the air was so damp outside."

"Yes," Emily agreed. She watched as the woman's eyes glanced across her, falling on her breasts. With her own eyes she silently retaliated, taking in her own view of her hostess' breasts. They were big fine ripe breasts, about the same size of her own, which was saying a lot since Emily was noted for her tit-size, which she tried to keep as concealed as possible, admittedly with not much success, under her baggy grunge t-shirts. Together the two females watched as their breath made their bosoms rise and fall. They listened to the sound of their breathing as they sat there on the fashionably-covered corded chenille couch.

"We don't have a guest room. I suppose Mark could sleep on the sofa," Beth said to Emily, addressing herself in fact to the girl's breasts as she continued looking at them.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to put him out," Emily answered, still gazing at Beth's cleavage.

"If you are to stay with us we would want you to join us in our exercises before bedtime," Beth said to Emily. The girl's eyes flicked up to the woman's face.

"Wh- what sort of exercises?" Emily asked her hostess. Beth lifted her eyes from Emily's breasts and looked at her boyfriend.

"What sort of exercises are we going to do this evening, dear?" Beth asked Mark. He coughed, self-consciously, and said,

"I thought we might go into the back room."

"Would you like to join us?" Beth asked Emily. Her hand fell down from Emily's shoulder and touched Emily's right breast. The girl flinched under the woman's touch but didn't refuse her as she began to knead her bra-encased tit under her shirt. As Emily gazed now into the woman's eyes, she saw a certain callousness there, amidst her beautiful features, and to her surprise she liked it.

"I suppose I could," Emily found herself answering. "But I didn't bring my gym clothes or anything. My jeans are kind of tight." And they were, for the one pleasure Emily allowed herself, in her grunge-attired life, was a good tight pair of jeans. She liked the feel of them against her skin, wedging up into her in unexpected places, making her feel held and loved even when she didn't have a boyfriend. Of course she let her t-shirt hang down loose over her jeans. Otherwise her tight-clad ass would have been a spectacle that every boy on campus would have felt Hell-bound to view.

"Gym clothes?" Beth asked. She laughed, looking again at her husband. "I'm afraid we don't wear any clothes when we exercise, dear," Beth told the girl. "After all it's just my boyfriend and I here."

"Oh," Emily said. The woman grasped Emily's tit-flesh more firmly, making her shrink down into the seat a little.

"In fact if you want to join us you must first show us what you have," Beth said to the girl.

"What- what do you mean?" Emily asked, her whole body quivering a little as she answered.

"I mean you're wearing a big awful baggy shirt, and that obviously has to go," the fashion-planner woman said to her, with department-store sureness. "Stand up," she said to Emily. To the girl's surprise, perhaps to escape the woman's grasping hand on her tit, she complied. "Lift up your shirt," Beth said to the girl. "I know you're in college but my boyfriend and I are not interested in you for your scintillating conversation, I can assure you."

"Wh- what do you mean?" Emily asked, and blushed at the simple naivete of her statement. Nonetheless with puppy-like obedience she raised her shirt, revealing her tight-sheathed hips.

"Turn around," Beth said to the girl. Emily turned, so that she was now no longer facing the woman she'd sat beside, whom she had turned to show her belly as she raised her shirt for her. Instead she was looking now at Mark, as the woman reached up and around her hips and found her front clasp and jean buttons, her hands moving with experienced grace as she undid Emily's jeans.

"Oh! What are you doing?" Emily asked, still holding up her shirt to show the bareness of her flat belly as the woman pulled down the front of her pants. Her white panties were exposed, simple neat school girl panties. A moment later, as she shivered and twisted under the woman's assault, she felt the back of her jeans worked down. Her bottom bulged, modestly clad in her plain white cotton panties. The adept woman's fingers took hold of the waistband of her undies. She yanked them down, and Emily gasped as she felt the cool air of the living room touch her naked behind.

"My, what fine merchandise, and so white and perfect," Emily heard Beth say behind her, as her bare naked cheeks shivered under the woman's gaze. Mark, who had been in front of Emily, deftly stepped behind her so that he too could see what was now on display. He had to lean forward some, for there wasn't enough room for him to actually stand behind her, but the effect was the same, Emily standing there with her shirt still abjectly raised, her naked behind making a spectacle of itself as it jutted with brazen grace into the face of the woman sitting behind her. "Shall we let her join us?" Beth asked her boyfriend.

"We must insist on it," Mark said,with not-too-effectively disguised awe in his voice.

"Wh- What will we do in the back room?" Emily heard herself say in a high squeaky voice, her hands trembling as she kept her shirt inexplicably raised. Beth made her sit down again on the couch. But she would not allow Emily to pull up her pants first. The girl, her panties and jeans ringing her thighs, felt her naked ass press into the chenille seat as she sat down again. It was soft, very comfortable, and rather awkwardly alluring and special, a feeling Emily found to her great surprise that she liked. Beth nodded to Mark and he came to the girl and relieved her of the need to hold up her shirt. He pulled it off her, leaving her clad only in her white bra from the waist up.

"We're into bondage," Beth said to Emily. She lifted a hand and seemed to try to untangle the girl's long blonde hair with it. Her own was perfectly coiffed, pinned up, jet black and lustrous, obviously the product of long hours at a beauty salon. "You've passed the first test. You have an excellent ass for it."

"Is-is that necessary?" Emily asked, glancing fearfully at the woman beside her, feeling her boyfriend standing over them both, his crotch rising rather obviously in his pants.

"Yes," Beth explained. "When we find a girl we think we might like we invite them up," she said. "A girl or, once, a guy," she said, blushing a little. "But it's important that they qualify physically. My boyfriend and I have very exacting tastes. I like to see a good-sized cock and pair of balls on a guy. And I'm not without opinions on girls, since I see so many of them. A nice pair of tits, which you obviously have. And a pretty young bottom. Nice and tight, with perfect unmarked flesh. Not that it will be unmarked when we're through with it, of course," Beth added, winking, and Emily, shivering beside the woman, couldn't figure out whether she was telling the truth or simply being casually forward and callous, as both she and her husband seemed to have a tendency to be.

"So- so you've had a lot of girls j- join you?" Emily asked. She didn't know what to do with her hands and modestly cupped them over her bra's cups as she sat there, her hosts' eyes upon her, her bare ass pressing into their chenille sofa seat. The woman's hand had fallen upon her thigh again, pressing itself hotly to its warm naked skin, above the place where her jeans ringed her legs. Mark seemed more obvious than ever, in his crotch, as he stood over Emily, his prong displaying itself through the expensive fabric of his trousers.

"Yes," Beth said. Her hand crept higher. Emily felt a wetness come to the gusset of her panties. "And although we will spend time quite intimately together in the back room, I don't want you to get any ideas in your head about us loving one another. Especially my boyfriend," Beth said, glancing at the man as she spoke of him.

"Oh, oh no!" Emily agreed. She felt herself swoon at the realization that she might in fact have this dashing man standing over her.

"So would you like to join us?" Beth asked.

"I- I don't know," Emily said, trying to recover her conscience and her composure as she felt her eyes drawn to the prong sticking so lewdly from Mark's pants. It was a big one. It would pin her to the floor if he stuck it into her, like a trapped butterfly, like a little puppy mounted by a big bad dog.

"Not knowing qualifies as a yes here," Beth told Emily. "Just to make sure that you know you can't keep my boyfriend I'm going to begin our exercises with a good smart caning of your pretty ass."

"No!" Emily said, but just then the woman's hand reached her panties, pressing inbetween her legs, and she felt herself swoon more deeply as Mark made to undo the fly of his pants. A moment later he was free, his big cock sticking forth like some 12-inch weapon. It was a very big one, Emily gasped to herself, and her lust for it was not being dampened by the expert way Beth was now stimulating her between her legs.

"How much pain can you stand? That is the question we'll answer tonight, for you," Beth said to Emily when all three of them were standing naked in the back room. Emily found herself gasping as she looked around at the couple's display of 'exercise' equipment. It was the most up-to-date bondage gear, and she had never seen such things before, although she had sometimes read of them, late at night, in boyfriendless excursions into newsgroups on the internet, chastising herself afterwards for her inexplicable interest, however fleeting, in such dark subjects. Now for the first time such things were laid out before her, indeed she had been stripped of the rest of her clothing by her hosts' loving hands and was being invited to try these things.

"What- what must I do?" Emily asked. She wished she could turn and run but somehow it was not in her. She stood rooted to the spot, drinking in the awful things around her. They looked medieval, a far cry from the tasteful modernity of the furnishings in the other rooms of the couple's apartment. There was a rude simplicity to the things. Bare wood, some of it cut and scarred, with iron shackles and chains waited to receive her body. Awful devices of mysterious design loomed on shelves and lay strewn on the floor. A toilet stood in one corner of the room. It was brazenly utilitarian, leaking into a pan at the back and with a single white roll of toilet paper hanging on the wall beside it. In fact it seemed like a prison toilet, that one saw sometimes in the movies, it was so bare and plain. It did however have a seat, but without a comforter like her step-mom's toilet always had. It was white, not made of metal but of porcelain. But there wasn't a hint of fashion to it, it was there to be peed into, or shitted in, with the eyes of everyone else in the room freely able to watch whoever made use of it.

When Beth saw Emily staring at the toilet, at its rude frankness there in the corner of the room, an idea came to her. Her eyes lit up mischievously and she said,

"If you are hoping not to have to use that then we must cure your inhibition," Beth said, as Mark locked the door to the back room with a key. "Before your whipping, which is going to be an exploration of your ability to endure pain, I want to see how you can handle pain inside of yourself, as opposed to being laid across your naked ass." She went to a shelf. She took down what looked to Emily like something that belonged in a hospital. It was a pouch-like, elongated plastic bag. It had tubing coming out of one end of it, which Beth held coiled in her hand, her other hand holding the bag aloft and displaying it to Beth's eyes. "This is an enema bag," Beth said to Emily. "I want to put the end of it up your bottom and fill your guts with hot fluid. Not too hot, since it will, I assume, be your first time, your first try. Then, after a suitable interval of wonderful agony in which you are forbidden relief, you will be allowed to rush to the toilet. You'll probably cramp as you try to get all the fluid out of you. Some will burst forth, of course, but getting it all out takes a little while, for it will be pumped deep up into your bottom."

"Not- not in my pussy?" Emily asked, feeling quite wet between her legs now and desiring to have something put there, after her many long months without a boyfriend.

"No. In your bottom," Beth said. She laughed. "Will you let me abuse you, my sweet?"

"Why why do you want to do this?" Emily asked, as she found herself being invited to kneel down on a big fluffy towel, Mark setting up an I.V. pole behind her and Emily hanging the bag from it. She wanted Mark, wanted his big penis to take her and do her hard, but her hosts seemed to wish to delay matters, for reasons she didn't understand.

"Lift your bottom higher," Beth answered. Emily complied, feeling like a wanton little puppy as she raised her bare ass before Emily and her boyfriend. She felt her cunny lips tingling between her legs. She wanted something in her so badly now, it had been high school when she had last felt something good and hard riding her up between her legs. And it had never been as big as Mark was! "That's good," Beth said, when Emily had her bare seat arched up almost vertically, her knees apart on the folded towel, which was hospital white, her toes curling and wiggling as she felt a vaselined finger tip touch her between the globes of her ass.

"Oh!" Emily gasped, realizing it was not Mark but Beth who was touching her there! The finger wedged into her tight little hole. She resisted, the finger pushed harder.

"You're very tight," Beth said with seeming disapproval. Her finger, now inside Emily, just inside, lubricated the anal ring of Emily's ass, despite the girl's clenching bottom halves. Emily felt little explosions of breath escape from her throat as the finger greased her. A moment later a hard plastic tip, itself greased, prodded Emily's hole. Again she tightened her bottom, trying to deny the impending entry, but it managed, after a moment, to slip into her. It threaded her. Emily gasped aloud, feeling the tube worked up into her behind.

Mark gazed down at the girl, his cock stiffly saluting her. She was a real beauty. Her ass was perfect, the kind he really liked, a taut young school girl bottom, her legs and waist and back tanned, the place where she usually wore a swimsuit, across her seat, girlishly white. Her thin legs, which were long but without too much fat on the thighs, more like the legs of a 14-year-old instead of an 18-year-old trembled. Her bottom seat clenched as Beth finished sticking the enema tube into it. The girl was fetchingly compliant. He knew why; she wanted his cock up her. Well, she would get that last, at the end of the evening, as a reward for her good behavior, if she behaved, Mark told himself. Emily reached up to the bag and loosened its clasp.

"I'm going to start it now, dear," Emily told the girl. The liquid began to flow. Mark watched the fluid trail down the tubing and into Emily's ass. The girl let out a shriek.

"The first part won't hurt," Beth told Emily, "I didn't make the water excessively hot." Nonetheless Emily felt shock as the unexpected feeling of her colon being filled took her. It was strange, like being filled up at a gas pump. She had never felt it before. She looked up between her legs at Mark's knees. She wished she could see higher, to the thing standing up between his legs. The sight of it would make all this seem worthwhile.

After a bit Emily began to feel not just the lewdness of the fluid in her bottomhole but a strange full feeling, as if her, or rather her behind, had had a big dinner. It got worse, as the minutes passed, and suddenly she felt quite full indeed. In fact she felt painfully full, and she bleated out that Beth must stop the flow.

"A little more. You can take a little more," Beth urged the girl, looking at the bag and seeing that she had taken only half of it. She was a novice, but she was here to feel pain. Beth told her as much, saying, "You are here to test your limits and expand them, dear. Take some more. Ignore the pain, if you can. You must be widened in any event. You are much too young and tight."

"Do you think she should be forced to sit on the phallus?" Mark asked his girlfriend, a casual sureness in his voice which shocked Emily, even more than the fluid that seemed to be splitting her guts.

"Yes. Absolutely," Beth said. She reached up and turned off the flow. She told Emily, saying, "It's off now dear. Let us converse about your bottom-training, that you will need, if you are to take Mark's cock up your ass as you surely must learn to do."

"Oh! Please! Let me get up! I've got to--"

"I know what you've got to do, you're full of fluid and want to shit it out of your pretty ass," Beth said, herself and her boyfriend kneeling down on the floor now to hold Emily in place.

"Oh but I MUST!" Emily said, her bottom still sporting the tubing that ran up to the enema bag.

"There are many things that we must do, and then certain things that we have to do," Beth told the girl, running a hand through her blonde unkempt hair. "You must go to the bathroom, but you have to remain kneeling. And what is this that you do with your lovely hair? Why is it not combed and brushed?"

"I- I had to take three exams today," Emily said. "I was late getting up." Her voice came out gasping, and she was surprised at herself for her ability to answer questions about her day as the painful enema fluid remained in her ass, pushing her to the brink of her ability to endure it. Was it really off? She felt as if it were growing still in fullness inside her, a baby in her bottom, desperate to be born.

"I think we should let her get up now," Mark said after another minute.

"Alright," Beth said reluctantly. Emily sprag to her feet. "But she looked so nice kneeling there," Beth said. "She will have to endure a whipping after this." Emily rushed toward the toilet, her hands reaching back and clutching her bare schoolgirl seat. Her bottom was jamming itself together, but she wasn't sure she could hold what had been put up her. It was dying to come out, she was in dire need to release it.

With a whooshing sigh Emily managed to turn herself around and plop down on the commode. Immediately a violent splashing sound was heard as her guts emptied themselves, dropping the enema into the toilet. More and more fluid came, all embarrassingly shit-brown. Emily felt as if her entire insides were being emptied into the toilet. It was making a mess under her, splashing up all over her ass. Abjectly she looked up at her hosts. At the same moment a powerful pain suddenly gripped her stomach. She was cramping! Beth's eyes widened with delight as poor Emily hunched suddenly over, a hand clapping itself to her flat but terribly pained belly. She felt as if she had a knot in her, traveling all the way up from her bottom hole to her naval. It worsened. She screamed. Her disheveled blonde hair hung down in front of her face, hiding her embarrassed eyes, as she groaningly released more of the enema fluid into the toilet. Her breasts quivered nakedly, her bottom arched more fully upon the commode. She was a creature of shit, nothing more, naked and pitiable. To her horror, in her extreme distress, looking up through her veil of unkempt hair, she saw that Mark had begun to massage his big tool with his hand. And Beth's fingers were busy, between her legs. The woman reached out and took the free hand of her lover, keeping one hand up between the lips of her cunt. The couple smiled at each other, then at Emily.

"You have been most stimulating, dear," Beth said, as Emily's cramps began to fade. The girl sat up on the toilet. She tossed her hair back.

"My ass is a mess," Emily confessed.

"Yes. We're going to give you a bath and comb that pretty hair of yours before your whipping," Beth said to the girl. "I want you to look your very best for it."

An hour later they were back in the room where Emily had suffered the enema. She was sparkling clean, the mess in the toilet had been flushed and forgotten. She felt strangely empty in back, in her behind, as if something needed to be put in her there. Quickly she dismissed the thought. She had never taken anything in her bottom! That awful tube had been the first. She looked at Mark and Emily. Did they plan to test her ass some more? Emily picked up a long thin rod of wood that was lying on the floor. She gave it a swish. Emily jumped, staring at it. The thing had remarkable flexibility. Beth took a pair of leather gloves from a shelf and slipped them on.

"Sometimes I get blisters if I don't wear the gloves," Beth explained to the girl. "Now turn around. Show me your ass again. I want to see how much of this you can take on your pretty bottom."

To her surprise, Emily turned. She leaned forward a little, making her breasts hang slightly, arching out her seat for Beth and Mark to have a look at it. The couple inspected it with slow, lingering caresses. Emily jumped as they again tested the resiliency of her little hiney-hole between the cheeks of her ass.

"You're right. She is quite tight," Mark said to his girlfriend.

"Yes," Beth said. "I want her to sit on the phallus stool later tonight. And really ride it. Stuff herself with it and use it to open herself. Perhaps we can invite the couple downstairs to come up and help give her encouragement."

"Sure. She could serve them hors d'oeuvres before hand. 'Welcome to my little bottom hole opening,'" Mark laughed.

"Oh! You two are awful!" Emily said.

"And you love us for it, don't you?" Beth asked. The girl didn't answer. Beth took her to a post in the center of the room. "This is much more fun than anything you can find on campus, isn't it?" Beth asked the girl. Emily bit her lip. Beth bound her to the post with her hands lifted high and buckled into iron cuffs. Her belly was pressed to the post. Her tits were split by it, resting with uptilted grace on either side of it like saddle-bags. Mark slipped a fresh folded towel between Emily's belly and the post. It made her ass jut out. A leather band, bound around her waist by Beth, kept her ribs forced against the tall round pole. Another band of leather was ringed around both her thighs, pressing her legs more firmly, in unison, against the thick pole, and ensuring that the pillow remained in place, against her belly, forcing her to show her ass in a most brazen and rude fashion, the stance of her legs gently opening her bottom crack, giving a half-hidden, shadowed peek at her hole. Her back hole, that her hosts threatened to have her accept a dildo later in the evening, in front of their neighbors.

Mark told Emily to open her mouth. He put a rubber wedge into it as Emily heard Beth swish the long whippy rod through the air behind her. Then a cloth gag followed, holding the wedge in place, being bound around the back of her head, against her beautiful hair, as Emily felt the wedge settle on her tongue, forcing it back to the back of her mouth, almost to her tonsils. Emily coughed, gagging. Mark put a finger under her nose to check that breath was still able to flow in and out of her, through her nostrils, despite the big rubber and cloth gag stuffing her mouth.

"I don't want the neighbors to hear, for I'm going to make you scream," Beth said to Emily with a casualness that frightened her. Scarier still was the prospect that Mark would take no hand in her punishment, standing idly by, his hand stroking his big wonderful dick, while Beth punished her as much as her own deviant sense of pleasure, and perhaps jealousy, dictated. The rod swished again, catching only air. "I make no bones about it. If this is your first time it's going to be quite painful," Beth warned Emily. "It would be quite painful in any event, for I don't believe in going easy on a girl. "You will be shocked at how harsh it is. Mark likes to see a good hard whipping delivered as much as I do. We don't believe in coddling sissies. Do you think you are ready for it?" Beth asked Emily. The girl remained motionless, except for her ass, which was flexing nervously, making her hiney-hole seem to wink at her hosts. Then, to her abject horror, she nodded.

Perhaps it was her years of coping with her step-mom's jealousy, perhaps it was the stares she always received, the lusting stares, when she didn't wear the plainest grungiest clothes, and which she received in any event even when she did wear them. Perhaps she was trying to reject her incredible beauty. Indeed it seemed like she would never be beautiful again as the rod came screaming down against her bare bottom. Its force made her groan, then cry out with terrified pain. There was of course no reason for this, there was nothing to be cured, nothing to be fixed, if anything she would need fixing after it was done, as her pretty white bottom suffered a bright red rod-mark across its seat, her cheeks flexing frantically in an effort to throw off the suddenly inflicted pain. Emily cried into her gag. Tears sprang to her eyes. The couple waited, watching the lurid display of her ass as she tried to recover from the terrible blow, feeling it all across her bottom, like a hot brand laid forever against her formerly white flesh. Then the second stroke came, again she cried out and again there was the hot-asses, hip-wriggling waiting, as she endured the pain of the second blow, the couple amusing themselves with her bottom-squirming display. Then there was a third stroke, and after a time a fourth. By now she was crying openly. Mark undid the gag and pulled the rubber wedge out of her mouth and let her hear her cries in the room, then gave her some water to drink, holding a cup to her lips. Then the rubber wedge was re-inserted, the gag retied, to Emily's shocked dismay. A fifth blow came, fiercer than the others. It took her a lot of ass-grinding to recover from that blow! When the pain had subsided a sixth came, the worse of all, making a scream seem to rend itself from Emily's lungs, which the gag could barely muffle.

"There. All done for now," Beth said, her voice quiet and serene, in contrast to Emily's dying-away screams. Mark undid her gag again, freed her mouth once more from the rubber wedge. Gasping Emily fell into Mark's arms when the straps were loosed from the post. She could no longer think, could do nothing but cry, a lost little puppy with a very hot ass.

"Mmmm, her bottom feels wonderful," Beth said, touching Emily's behind where it hung lewdly between Mark's enclasping arms. His thing bumped against her seat, his big stiff prong, as Emily's fingers stroked her hot burning flesh. "You are quite warm, dear," Beth told Emily. "We'll put some cream on this good little bottom of yours and then when you've rested a little you can show off your new marks to our neighbors. And you can have a little sit too, to prepare yourself for what Mark will want to force up your ass."

It was lewd. It was wonderful. Emily lay on the couple's big soft bed, in their bedroom, as Mark and his girlfriend eased warm oils into the injured flesh of her ass. Whenever Emily peeked up from the pillow she could see Mark's big stiff prong waving above her ass like a magic wand, healing her, precum occasionally dripping out of him to mix with the oil being rubbed on her seat. While this was happening Mark and Emily's neighbors arrived. The woman greeted her new guests at the door, letting them see her naked, bringing into the bedroom to show them Mark, who had leaned down to kiss Emily on the cheek. They sighed at Emily's beauty, at Mark's virility. Quickly they disrobed, Emily helping them, Mark continuing to knead Emily's bottom with his large hands. A warmth invaded Emily's bottom now, not stinging but wholesome, suffusing her injured cheeks with a strangely pleasant sensation. There was still the pain, of course, that had only eased, not gone away, but it mingled with the newfound warmth to give her a rather pleasant feeling, an erotic bottom-dwelling feeling, all eyes seemingly on her naked ass as she lay in the bed.

As Mark continued to massage Emily's seat, Beth used some of the oil to greased Mark's penis. Then she did the neighbor, a big strapping ruddy fellow, as the newcomer's wife surprised Emily by reaching down and stroking her long blonde hair.

"Oh you are so pretty," the woman told Emily, as the girl blushed. "And so brave too."

"This is Helen," Beth said to Emily of the redheaded woman stroking her hair, as she greased the woman's boyfriend, making his prong all shiny. "She likes girls as much as I do," Beth added, with a laugh. Then she said, "Get up, dear. It's back to our special room for you." Emily obeyed, blushing as her eyes met that of the new male in the room. His cock was ready for her. She longed to feel its oiled stiffness force its way into her. But Beth was still fixated on her bottom, making her flinch as she patted it with her hand. "That's Ben," Beth told Emily. "Come and serve us hors d'oeuvres in the living room. Then they'll watch you sit on the phallus stool."

There was quiet good cheer as Emily served the new guests in the living room. They sat on the couch, oblivious to their excited sweat which no doubt moistened the seat under them as they sat naked on the chenille. Emily herself had a shiny oiled bottom and could not sit, owing to the oil and also to the pain still streaking across it. But she didn't mind standing, hurrying to and fro with hors d'oeuvres and wine to see that the guests, and her own demanding hosts, stayed happy. The men sat with their legs easily apart, their big heavy balls weighing with promise on the chenille, but their oiled dicks sticking up proudly, like flagpoles. Beth and Helen exchanged soft glances, and gave encouraging words to Emily, making sure she kept their glasses filled and their plates full, and those of their boyfriends, stroking each other between their legs as they sat together until Emily was sure their dells were wetting the seat between their legs. Meanwhile the men's prongs dripped with tension, making little stains of their own on the couch. But it was not the stains which bothered Beth, but Emily's occasional tardiness in keeping the glasses full, which she said must be brimming at all times. She gave Emily a slap on her bottom, causing the girl to shout. It was repeated by Helen. Emily's breasts wiggled lewdly as she stood with grinding hips before her hosts, accepting the blows, holding on for dear life to her serving tray, so she wouldn't spill what was on it. She had done her very best, yet it had not been enough! Somehow she found this delightful, as her hosts surely did, slapping her again, making her cry out from the pain of the hand blows on her soft tender seat, still glowing with the oil they had so lovingly applied in the bedroom.

"Really, she is such a lazy little slut," Beth told Helen. "She didn't even brush her hair this morning before she took her exams."

"When they're young they're just spoiled," Helen, who was 23 like Beth, agreed. "Let her spend her time working like you and I do and her lazy college ways would be driven out of her."

"She's going to work her bottom on the stool," Beth laughed.

"Good," Helen said. "Let's go there now. I want to see the look of pain on her face when she's forced to sit on it."

It was a simple stool, with a rude big rubber dick sticking up from the center of it. Emily gasped when it was unveiled. It had been sitting in a corner of the couple's back room, draped with a white cloth that covered the dick. Not the legs of the stool, or even all of the wooden seat, just the dick and part of the seat, like a Princess' handkerchief left behind when her prince came for her. Except this thing sticking up was no pleasure tool for a lover-less captive princess. It was too big and thick and long for that, more like something a wicked witch might keep in her chamber. Emily gasped when she saw how large it was. Could she really meet the challenge of her hosts by sitting her ass on it?

"Of course you can," Helen said, patting Emily's bare bottom as the girl stared at the thing. "You control the descent. Or ascent, as the case may be, doesn't she Beth?"

"Yes," Beth said, folding the white handkerchief and laying it on a shelf. "Really, Emily, such shock and dismay in your eyes. Both men want your little ass. But you must open yourself first, on the stool, so you can receive them."

"Oh! But I want Mark in my pussy!" Emily couldn't help blurting. Helen laughed.

"You've come to the wrong place if you expect to get sex, at least this early in the evening," Helen told the girl. "You must earn any pleasure you get. By first suffering pain."

"Yes. By first expanding your boundaries," Beth told the girl, agreeing with Helen. "Sex is easy. I want you to do what's hard, what you've never done before."

"Oh, I've never taken a cock as big as Mark's before!" Emily said, turning to openly admire, with blushing cheeks, the prong of Beth's boyfriend.

"Then it will serve as an excellent reward for your efforts," Beth said. "But first you must sit on the stool, and then let Ben try to get himself up your ass." Emily's shocked gaze turned to the ruddy husband of Helen.

"Oh! I did not--"

"What? You thought such a fine big penis would not be yours this evening?" Beth asked the girl.

"Oh but I'm not attracted to-- I mean, he does have a fine one, but--"

"You will take whatever cock I put you to, girl," Beth told Emily. "Now get over there and get up on the stool. Remember, it goes up your ass, not your hungry little pussy. Put it where it doesn't belong and I'll tie you to the post again."

"Oh but it does belong in my pussy!" Emily, starving now amidst all the nudity and excitement and emotion for cock, said, staring at the big dick sticking up from the stool.

"Perhaps someplace other than the back room it does, but we do things differently here, don't we, Beth?" Helen said, smiling again at their dark-haired lovely host.

"Yes," Beth said. She gave Emily's bare bottom a slap, making her howl. "You're stalling, girl!" Beth told her. "Get that little ass of yours moving!"

Emily got up on the stool She felt the bare wooden rungs of it against her feet as she balanced herself spraddle-legged above the awful thing sticking up from the seat. She dared not sit down. Doing so would mean the big dick was all the way up her bottom! She looked abjectly at her hosts. They only laughed at her, the women's tits shaking with excitement, their nipples risen, the men's cocks saluting Emily's impending doom. Now the girl knew why, as she lay on the bed having healing salve put on her bottom, her hosts had occasionally dipped a finger into her tight little ass hole. She was wet back there, and ready for what she must take. It was pre-greased, to her dismay, sticking up wetly from the stool. As Mark and Beth massaged her bottom in the bedroom one of them must have snuck into the back room and done up the cock for her. Gradually Emily's knees began to give way as she balanced herself above the big thing. She hovered slowly downwards. Lifting her eyes to her hosts, she made sure it was her seat and not her pussy that eventually settled on the top of the big prong. It pushed rudely into her cheeks. She adjusted herself so its hard stiffness pressed against her hiney hole. She tried to balance herself there, her little fleshy ring hugging itself tightly against the big knob's knocking, but the grease that had been put in her behind, along with the grease on the pole, didn't help her in her efforts. In fact it worked directly contrary, helping the large rude phallus dig into her backside. Emily gasped, looking directly at her hosts now as she felt the big thing begin to slide ruthlessly into her. Her anal ring opened, widened, then was pushed wider still, as Emily gave a cry of pain and alarm. She tried to wrench herself up off the upward-sliding device but it was caught in her now, her knees tiring as it slid more deeply into her, her anal ring stretching painfully.

Up it went. Emily gasped. Tears came to her eyes and rolled wetly down her cheeks. Her hosts and fellow guests laughed. Her tits quivered as she felt the dong press more deeply into her.

"She's taking it! She's taking it up her ass!" Beth said with delight. The two women who could not be satisfied as Emily rushed about with her tray in the living room now gazed with delight at her predicament on the stool. She tried to rise again. But the thing was wedged up tight in her, and going deeper. Her own tightness now worked against her, for instead of preventing the thing's entry it was preventing her escape! Deeper and deeper the prong went, as Emily squatted lower and lower towards the seat of the stool. It was awful, this big indriving feeling in her guts, in her bottom. She felt as if she went any lower the big dick would come popping out of her mouth!

"Oh, I can't stand it!" Emily screamed, wiggling frantically on the thing that now pinned her so completely to the stool, drawing her closer and closer to the wooden seat as her exhausted knees gave way.

"You must stand it. You must take it all," Beth urged. She threatened to walk up to Emily and put her hands on Emily's shoulders and push her down if she didn't finish the job herself. So, trembling with fear, Emily let the big dong slide the final few inches up her. To her amazement and relief she found herself sitting on the bare wood of the stool, the big rubber phallus all the way up inside her. The pain was incredible, making her cry and gasp, but she had made it! She felt her knees relax.

"Bounce up and down on it," Beth ordered the girl. Emily's face gaped in horror.

"You must work yourself on it. Really open yourself," Helen agreed. "Don't just sit there. Rend your tight little ass with it. It is necessary if you're to take my husband's big penis up your behind."

To her horror, Emily began to do as she was told. Despite the pain of the big intruder up her guts she began to move herself up and down, flexing her tired knees, feeling her breasts toss on her chest, to the men's delight, as she opened her butthole with the big prong. She feared she would make herself bleed on it, but she did as her hosts demanded anyway, not wanting to be put to the whipping post again, which stood sturdily by, waiting to receive her if she didn't comply.

"Imagine if her mother saw her now," Beth remarked to Helen. "She would say, 'What are you doing, you naughty little girl? Don't you have a boyfriend at college?'" This remark made Emily gasp with shock and horror. She could just see her step-mom walking into the room, and seeing her this way. "Hi mom," she could almost imagine herself saying. "Hopefully I won't be so beautiful when I'm done doing this. Will you love me then?" Emily felt a sudden sharp pain in her bottom. To her horror she realized that she had torn her mucosa, the inside of her bottom hole. "Oh, God! I'm bleeding!" she said, as she felt a new wetness in her behind. To her amazement, her hosts and her fellow guests clapped. Then they came over to her. The men's help was necessary in pulling her up off the big phallus. Their cocks bumped her bare belly and hips as they pulled her off. When she was free of the thing Beth got tissues and wiped Emily's bottom. She left a little jammed up her butthole to catch the rest of the blood.

"You have done well," Beth told Emily. "You have a real sense of adventure."

"You were marvelous, darling," Helen assured Emily, kissing the girl's cheek. "I should want to have you in my bed sometime. When you've been opened I'll give you something of my own, strapped around my waist, to really get you nice and wide."

"Will it heal?" Emily asked, feeling the pain in her bottom, wanting to reach back and touch herself.

"Of course your little bottom hole will heal," Beth told Emily. "You have not torn your tight little anal ring. It has survived intact. You have only ripped the lining of your colon a little. It will be better in a few days. Don't be alarmed if you shit blood in a little while."

"This is so strange, hurting myself and tearing my bottom like this," Emily gasped.

"You must get used to it. We play with all the most private parts of our bodies here," Beth told her.

30

----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------

This is FUN! I want MORE!

This is STUPID! I want LESS!

GET me back to the MAIN PAGE

HELP! I have to go to the BATHROOM