NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS

                                          Chapter Four

         “Why are we wearing swimming suits?” I yelled.  My voice was
high-pitched.  I was snug in my pajamas and didn’t feel like changing.
         “Because we’re going to get wet,” Rebecca called out to me.  I
was in the den.  She was in the kitchen.  Her voice was cool, icy, like
the air outside.  Autumn was here.  Brad was gone, back in college. 
There was just my auntie and me, staring ahead into a long weekend, by
ourselves, bored.  Until, that is, she told me at 10 o’clock on a
Saturday morning to put my bikini on.
         “But I want to watch Scooby Doo!” I told her.  The T.V. blared
in front of me.  I munched on a plate of cheese crackers.
         “Chloe, put your bikini on!” my aunt told me.  Her voice
sounded tense.
         “But she doesn’t even have a pool,” I said.
         My aunt came into the den.  She looked stunning in a bikini so
small it barely covered her pubis below, while her lustrous bosoms
jiggled in a brassiere that seemed made from two postage stamps, and a
string.  She tossed her brown hair.  It was a long, thick mane of hair,
tumbling over her shoulders and covering her far better than her
swimsuit did!  She reached down and pried the remote control out of my
hand.
         “It looks like trouble, Scooby!” Shaggy was declaring on the
T.V.
         CLICK.
         “Auntie, I like that episode!” I complained.
         “I want to go see Helene,” Rebecca said.  “And I’m afraid to go
alone.”  Her eyes grew larger.  “I’m afraid... of what she might do to
me if I’m all by myself.”
         I looked up at my aunt.  She fidgeted with the remote control. 
She looked as if she was fighting a desire to turn the T.V. back on, and
sit down with me and watch it.
         “I don’t want my bottom to hurt again, like it did the last
time we visited her, auntie,” I said in a hushed voice.  Instinctively
my aunt put a hand behind her, and touched her own fanny.  I stared up
at her, her hips thrust forward, her hand on her ass, clutching my
remote like a talisman, a key to my innocent childhood if she flicked it
on, or not, if she didn’t.
         “Oh, Chloe!” my auntie said, looking down at me.  “What shall I
do?  I met this really cool guy, in Helene’s shop yesterday, and I’m
utterly infatuated with him!  Yet he lives with Helene, and to see him,
I’ve got to see her.”
         “What happened to Johnnie?” I asked.
         “I-I don’t know,” my aunt answered, hearing me, but not really
listening.  “He moved on.  They parted.  Now she has a new guy, named
David.  And he’s reputed to have... to have...”
         “Yes?” I asked.  
         “Well, they’ve nicknamed him the fire hose,” my aunt told me.
         “The fire hose?” I asked.
         “Because he’s so long,” my aunt said.
         “Hot diggety!” I said.  I leapt up.  I wiped the back of my
hand across my face to get all the crumbs off it.


         We arrived at Helene’s dressed demurely, wearing the latest
fall fashions.  I had on a plaid skirt and a modest, lace-trimmed
blouse.  I was wearing my beaded flower jewelry that I’d gotten the
previous day out of a gumball machine.  It wasn’t the most fashionable
way to purchase jewelry, but I thought the little beads were pretty
cool, and I liked the small flowers.  I had a necklace, a wristlet, and,
over one of my white socks, an anklet of beads.  My aunt was dressed in
a tunic with a fluttered hemline.  It had long sleeves that had cuffs,
she’d buttoned both cuffs, giving her a very prim look.  Over her light
tunic she’d pulled a thick pebble-colored turtleneck sweater.  She wore
a matching peaked cap on her head, oversized, that gave her small,
delicate features an even more pampered and adorable look.  With her
tunic she wore pinstriped pants, as if dressed for a fashionable but
conservative day at the office.  Fingerless mittens completed her
ensemble, keeping the brisk air from chapping her hands.  I had on big,
thick, winter mittens, plus earmuffs.  Of course nobody who saw us get
out of the taxi, let alone the cab’s driver, knew we wore not underwear
but the smallest of swimsuits under our autumn clothes.
         Helene met us at the door.  She smiled, her eyes sharp as a
cat’s as she gazed out at us from behind a pair of round, wire-rimmed
glasses.  Her hair was pinned up, neatly.  She looked like a librarian. 
The sight of her sent a thrill of wonder through me because I knew,
behind that peaceful facade, lay one of the wildest, most decadent women
I’d ever met.  She took my mittened hand, drew me inside.  She offered
to remove the jacket I wore.  I turned, she slipped it off me.  I felt a
thrill as her hands passed over my small, 13-year-old shoulders.  She
handled me like a mother, and yet she was so utterly depraved, so cruel!
         “We only came to see the fireman,” I told Helene, hoping to
dissuade any thoughts she had of taking us downstairs to her basement.
         “He is here?” my aunt asked, a touch of nervousness in her
voice.  Helene looked at her.  
         “Of course,” Helene answered.  “Such a lovely turtleneck you’ve
got on, dear.  Please take it off.”
         Oh, how her words sent a chill through me!  She could be so
direct, so blunt, so in control!  She knew we’d been here before and I
realized she wasn’t going to beat around the bush this time.  There was
nothing to hide, we’d tasted her ‘hospitality’ before and yet chosen to
come again!
         “Can we see the fireman?” I blurted, feeling fright rise up
within me and yet somehow drawn to the feelings she sent washing through
me.  My knees trembled.  She hung up my jacket in a closet by the door
and then turned me to face her and began unbuttoning my blouse.
         “Oh, good.  You’ve come prepared in your bikini,” Helene said,
gazing within my blouse as she undid the buttons.
         “Must we get out of our things so soon?” my aunt asked.  Her
voice was high, quavering.  She sounded like a child wishing to avoid a
spanking.  (Which, when you think about it, wasn’t so far off from the
truth!)
         “Yes, we’ll party in the living room.  Just your bikinis will
be needed,” Helene said.  
         “My aunt wore a really small bikini,” I told Helene. 
         “I’m sure David will be impressed,” Helene replied.
         Our hostess did not disrobe herself.  Instead, she concentrated
on my aunt and me, stripping us down until only our bikinis remained.  I
was allowed to keep on my frilled, ankle high socks, as well as my
open-toed heels.  She let me wear my beaded flower jewelry.  My aunt was
permitted to wear her peaked cap, but nothing else, save her swimsuit,
and the black knee-length boots she’d arrived in.  Helene smiled at us. 
She escorted us into a sitting room along the side of her house.  I
could see the neighbor’s yard through the window.  Helene closed the
curtains, blocking out the view.  Then she lit the room’s lamps and
seated us.
         The doorbell sounded, just as my aunt and I sat down.  I sat on
a richly patterned cloth sofa.  My aunt sat across from my in a thickly
upholstered chair.
         “Please make yourselves comfortable.  I’ll be back in a
minute,” Helene smiled at myself and my aunt.  
         The room had a placid, conservative appearance to it.  I felt
myself relax as I gazed around.  We might have been in the sitting room
of a middle-aged lady, a widow even, the room was so pleasantly
ordinary.  Some knick-knacks rested on a shelf.  A mantle held twin
candles, unlit, for it was only noon.  A fireplace glowed with almost
extinguished coals, a remnant of a fire the previous evening or,
perhaps, a half-hearted attempt to ward off the slight chill in the
room.  The light from the sun outside, filtered by the overhead clouds,
seeped in past the edges of the room’s curtains.  The lamps glowed,
softly, sedately.  There was an air of complete and utter safety within
the four walls of that room.  Oh, how deceptive Helene could be!
         A brunette stepped into the room.  She was, I learned later,
only 17, but she looked like a young, professional woman.  She had short
hair.  It bobbed with enthusiasm as she walked.  It hung to her
shoulders.  Her eyes were big and round and open with a sense of
delighted wonder.  She smiled at Rebecca.  She smiled at me.  She was
nude, save for her bikini, and a pair of expensive lime green sneakers. 
She had small ankle-high socks on her feet.  Her bikini was red.  She
had just a tinge of a summer tan.  Her cheeks were bright and rosy.  Her
mouth looked like rose petals, formed in a little o.  She regarded both
my aunt and myself with the eagerness of a hiker joining two more
experienced climbers.
         “Hi!” the brunette said.
         “Hello,” my aunt replied.  The brunette sat down in a brocaded
love seat.  Immediately afterward a man entered the room.  He was
dressed in a Speedo swimsuit.  He was, I guessed, the husband or lover
of the brunette.  He headed toward her, grinning at Rebecca and myself
as he passed us.
         “No, Alan.  Over here,” Helene said, coming into the sitting
room after him.  She pointed to a chair on the other side of the room
from his girlfriend.
         “But I want to sit with Audrey,” Alan said.
         “I know what you want to do.  And I know what you’ll want to do
in a few minutes too,” Helene told him with a smile.  “Over here,
please.”  
         The man obeyed.  He was young, perhaps half a decade older than
Audrey, but no more.  There was a vigorousness to his walk which I much
admired.  He was tall and strong and yet quite willing to let Helene put
him wherever she wished.  He sat down in a chair facing us.  We all
faced each other, all four of us sitting in a separate chair.  We all
wore swimsuits, except Helene.  She wore a side-buttoned tunic, all
black, with slim, efficient sleeves.  She had a pair of booties on her
feet with four buckles each, none of them merely for show.  She picked
up a pair of leather gloves off a small deal table and slipped them on. 
She had placed on her head a prim, mohair crusher hat.  With her
glasses, her hat, her gloves, her boots and her long, ankle-length
dress, she offered us no glimpse of herself, though I knew it wasn’t
from any embarrassment about her figure.  I’d seen her undressed before;
she had a spectacular bosom and a waist that was very slim, with hips
that rolled when she walked in a highly sexy manner.  Even within her
dress, the roll of her hips and the swell of her bosoms was
intoxicating.  I watched as Alan stared at her, visibly impressed.  He
might have wished that he was less taken by her for his interest in her
showed immediately to us all by a swelling of his loins in his swimsuit.
         Helene rubbed her gloved hands together.  Her eyes passed over
us.  She nodded appreciatively at the growth in the front of Alan’s
swimsuit.  Yet she smiled as well at Audrey, and my aunt.  She gazed at
my aunt in her miniscule bikini, drinking in the sight of her bosoms in
their little postage stamp cups.  Lastly her eyes fell on me, and I was
eager when they did, for I wished her to admire me as much as the
others.  I squirmed under her eyes.  I thrust forward my tits and
blushed when Helene regarded them with frank admiration.  How strange it
is to desire attention from someone.  Especially when you know that
someone has wicked plans for you!
         “I am so glad you four could come and be with me today,” Helene
said.  “Rebecca, you are so brave to come back, what a delight it is to
see you again.  And you’ve spared nothing in showing us your beauty.” 
We looked at her.  My aunt blushed.  She looked so tempting, so
incongruous, seated in the big upholstered chair in a teensy bikini. 
“And Chloe, how courageous you are!  Only 13, and such an adventurer!”
         “I’m only here to see the fireman,” I told her.
         “Yes, dear.  Of course,” Helene said.  She turned her gaze, and
ours, upon Audrey.  “How bold it is for you to wish to experience French
sexuality!” she said to Audrey.  The girl flushed.  She was dressed in a
small bikini, not one as skimpy as my aunt’s but still one that would
cause a commotion if it were worn at a public pool.  Perhaps in an
attempt at modesty, she had her legs crossed.  Helene told her to
uncross them.
         “But--” the girl began.
         “Audrey, it is important that you obey when I tell you to do
something,” Helene said.  
         “Yes,” Audrey replied.  She uncrossed her legs.
         “Open them,” Helene told her.  The girl blushed, smiled, looked
at me, then at my aunt.  I sat with my thighs together but, fortunately,
I hadn’t crossed them, not thinking about it, just not doing it.  My
aunt’s legs were the same as mine.  “Open them,” Helene said again. 
Audrey parted her thighs.  “More,” Helene said.  Audrey obeyed.  “All of
you, open your legs, scoot your hips forward on the chairs, and offer
yourselves to each other!” Helene snapped.  
         We did as she asked.  I felt silly, spreading my legs and
shoving forward my dell, but I did it.  We presented our genitals to
each other, thankful, I’m sure, each of us, that we had at least our
swimsuits on.  But for how long?
         Helene smiled.  She seemed pleased by our display.  She turned
and called out a name:
         “David!”
         A man walked into the room.  He was very tall.  He had long
legs, like a runner, but a powerful chest.  He was clad in a swimsuit, a
racing swimsuit, like the one Alan wore.  I noticed immediately that his
swimsuit was quite full in front.  A prong-like protrusion thrust
forward from the front of his suit, like Alan’s, but even bigger, so big
in fact that I felt an immediate wettening in the cleft of my pussy at
the sight of him.  I knew then I was doomed.  Up ‘til then we had just
been playing; we might don our clothes again, and depart, who was to
stop us?  We might blush and say we thought Helene owned a pool, how
tragic she didn’t, we must be off, we wished to swim.  We might even
leave with Alan and Audrey, leaving Helene in her gloves and her hat to
play with herself, stealing her new friends from her.  But upon seeing
David, I knew all my hopes of escaping Helene’s intentions were lost. 
He was too handsome.  I had to have more!  How long and tempting he
looked!  I scolded myself as I lusted over his crotch; it did me no
good, I wanted him and I had to have him.
         So did my aunt.  She stared at his loins with frank, hungry
eyes.  She ran her tongue over her lips.  She leaned forward, then fell
back in her chair, remembering Helene’s admonition, and offered her
thrust-forward cunt to his eyes.  David paid no attention; he carried a
tray.  It had a silver tea pot on it, some china cups, and something
else:  a riding crop.  Deftly Helene plucked the crop from the tray. 
Then David set the tray down on a low coffee table that sat in the
middle of the room.
         My eyes tore themselves from David and I glanced at Audrey. 
Was she from America?  She seemed young and eager, like Americans do
when they’re in France.  At the same time she seemed shy, glancing at
David and then away from him, then back again.  Each time her eyes fell
on his crotch they lingered a second longer.
         Oh, I felt like such a slut!  I think us girls want to meet a
man who makes us feel that way.  We resent the word:  slut.  But in the
end that’s how we want to feel, reduced to raw emotion, wet between our
legs and wanting it, no matter what, wanting it all, despite the risks
that come with it.
         I wanted David.  I watched with fascination as he set down the
tea tray on the coffee table.  He had such lean, long legs, such a long,
broadly-shouldered back.  Such a slim waist.  But for the fact that he
was attired in a small swimsuit, you would have thought him a butler in
a fine restaurant, so haughty was his bearing.  He paid no attention to
me, none to Helene in her postage stamp swimsuit, none to Audrey.  His
eyes briefly met Alan’s, one man greeting another, but that was all.  We
girls were nothing to him.
         “May I be excused?” David asked Helene, after he’d set down the
tray.
         “No you may not, David,” Helene said.  “I want you to pour
everyone their tea.  Ladies first.”
         Carefully, expertly, with refined grace, David poured tea into
the several tea cups.  I marvelled at his diffidence.  He wished not to
serve us but, being commanded to by Helene, he wished to do his very
best at it.  And he was quite well-trained, I saw.  How did he pick up
such skills?  He looked like an athlete, yet he handled the tea service
as well as any British trained butler.
         “Your tea, madam,” David said, offering me the first cup.  I
was shocked at how he spoke to me.  Usually when someone addresses me
its with obvious and overt reference to my youth.  They’ll even usually
say, ‘Gosh, how young you are!’  Perhaps they’ll even ask why I’m
present.  Shouldn’t I be home tucked in bed?  (Or, given that it was a
Saturday, off at Girl Scouts or something?)  David, I saw, was not like
that.  He handed me my tea cup with such deference!  He acted like I was
a grown woman, at a glorious midnight ball, yet I was in fact just a
girl in a swimsuit.  “How does it taste?” David asked me.
         “Taste?” I asked, holding the cup.  I tried desperately to
remember how to hold it the right way; wasn’t there something about
sticking one of your fingers out when you held a tea cup?  Was it your
middle finger?  No, it couldn’t be that one; I’d be telling David ‘fuck
you’ if I stuck out my middle finger.  I settled on holding out my
pointing finger, nearly spilling my tea in my lap when I stuck it out.
         “If the tea is unsatisfactory I’ll brew another,” David told
me.
         “No, it’s fine.  I think...” I said.  I sipped it.  It tasted
wonderful.
         “Good,” David said.  “You’ll be drinking a lot of it.”
         “I will?” I asked over the rim of my cup.
         “It’s a pee party.  We’re all going to drink until we pee. 
Didn’t you know that?” David asked me.  
         My eyes glanced instinctively at David’s crotch.  “Are you...
going to pee?” I asked him.
         “Yes, of course.  Hopefully after you, so it’s you who’ll feel
Helene’s crop on your ass instead of me.”
         Like I said, by then all was lost.  There was no way I could
have dragged myself out of Helene’s after seeing David and his big
packet.  Slut!  I wanted to cry to myself.  But I buried that
self-deprecation deep down in my tummy and enjoyed the warm feeling I
felt there whenever my eyes fell upon David’s loins.  
         He served us.  Oh, how gentle and thoughtful he was!  How his
muscles rippled in the soft light of the room!  How his penis bulged in
his racing-style swimsuit!  I felt utterly thrilled when I watched David
serve Alan.  Both men were equally bare, both of them clad in just
Speedo swimsuits.  One poured tea for the other as if he were a
diplomat, yet in truth, I think, neither guy had anything going for him
except for the fact that they were both totally handsome.
         Helene watched over us, pleased at our acquiescence in her
game.
         “And now you must remove your swimsuits,” Helene said.  She
glanced at Audrey, knowing the new girl would be the most recalcitrant. 
“Don’t worry, my dear.  Just the bottom is all you need remove right
now.  Keep your bra on, if you wish.  This is, after all, a pee party. 
It’s the loins we must see to enjoy the full depravity of our
celebration.”
         “Oh, I shall want to pee soon!” Audrey said, taking anther sip
from her tea cup.
         “Yes, and you’ll do it right here,” Helene said.  
         “In the living room?” I blurted.
         “Yes.  Do it right on the chair,” Helene said.
         “Isn’t that rather expensive?” my aunt asked.  I remembered us
playing Monopoly, and how she’d insisted we play on a mat, to protect
her carpet.
         “Some people spend $2,000 on a bottle of wine,” Helene said. 
“I serve quality tea, which is far cheaper than wine, and prefer to
spend my money reupholstering my furniture.  And besides,” she said. 
“Have you not noticed the cameras in the four corners of the room? 
You’re all being filmed.  For posterity, for yourselves to have
something to keep, after we’re finished, and, with your permission, for
me to share with others, perhaps for a fee.”
         “No!” Audrey cried.
         “Honey, you’ll do just as she says,” Alan told the girl across
the room from him.  She gaped at him.  He let David take the
half-finished cup of tea from his hand and, with the man holding his
steaming cup and waiting, Alan thrust his hands into his swimsuit.  He
liberated his cock.  It jutted forth, wiggling in the air like a charmed
snake, standing upright from the flatness of his lower belly.
         “You’re well endowed, sir,” David told Alan.  I felt myself
flush all over.  Imagine, David with his obviously huge endowment
complimenting Alan!  In truth, Alan had one of the finest cocks I’d ever
seen, yet I knew David must surely be even bigger.  I was glad,
suddenly, that Brad had gone back to college.  I liked him, but I feared
that here, at Helene’s, with these two men, I might be inspired to do
things I wouldn’t want even my love Brad to know about.
         “Thanks.  Why don’t you show me yours?” Alan asked.  He was
blushing slightly.  He looked up at David.  The man turned and looked at
Helene.
         “Of course, David.  I think the girls have all come to see it,”
Helene said softly.  She slapped her riding crop against the open palm
of her other hand.  The crisp reply of the leather crop against her
leather glove sent a strange thrill through us.  I blushed, my aunt
showed color in her cheeks, Audrey held her bikini bottom in her fingers
as if she might somehow escape having to take it off.
         David shoved down his swimsuit.  His dick popped out.  I was
startled by the sight of it; it was, indeed, long and thick like a fire
hose.  I tried to speak, found my throat dry.  Finally I said, in a
small, croaking voice, not at all like my usual voice, “It’s a wonder of
the world.”
         “Yes!  We here in France have the eighth wonder of the world,”
Helene smiled.  “Even if David hails from Yugoslavia.”  She smiled at
him.  “How fortunate that the East has been liberated,” she said.
         “You are kind to let me work in your shop, and I’m proud to
show you my natural endowments,” David said warmly to Helene.  “But I
would prefer to be lifting weights.  I want to go to America someday and
replace Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
         “Perhaps Chloe will take you,” Helene told him.
         “Yes!  You can sleep in my bedroom with me!” I blurted.  “I
mean, in my house,” I said.
         “You can come to America with me!  I’m from America!” Audrey
told him.  Then she looked at Alan.  “With my boyfriend’s permission, of
course,” she added.
         “God, what a threesome that would make,” my aunt said.  She had
set her teacup on the arm of her chair and was pulling on her panties. 
I don’t think she was even of a rational mind anymore as she yanked down
the front of her panties, then lifted her ass and pulled her panties
down off her hips.  How small her bikini was, yet upon seeing David’s
endowment she couldn’t remain clothed even in it!
         “Girls, get your bottoms off,” Helene said.  “Then give them to
me.  All of you, even you men.”  She let David get his suit off and then
accepted it from him.  She peered within it.  “You’ve drooled some
pre-cum into your suit, David,” she said.
         “Sorry,” David answered.  
         Helene came over to me.  I handed her my panties.  She felt the
crotch of them.
         “They’re wet,” she told me.
         “I didn’t mean to get so excited,” I told her.  I blushed.  I
realized I was now sitting on her expensive, brocaded couch, with my
moistened pussy lips pressed into the comfy fabric of the seat.  “I can
sit on the floor if you like,” I said.
         “No, sit right there, darling,” Helene said.  “I’m happy to
have your juicy pussy on my couch.  You’re going to get it quite a lot
wetter in a few minutes.”
         “Oh, can’t we go pee in the bathroom?” I asked her.
         “No.  You’ll all drink and pee right here, with your legs open,
and your hips thrust forward, admiring each other’s sex,” Helene said. 
“The last one to pee wins.  The others,” she let her voice trail off. 
She knew Rebecca and I were keen on her friend David, and not on her
manner of partying.  (At least, I hoped my auntie wasn’t.  Sometimes she
was a bit unusual in her desires.)
         “Oh, this is so naughty!” Audrey said.  She looked at her
boyfriend.  He gazed at her and let her know with his eyes that she
would be doing just as Helene wished.  Audrey gulped, and smiled.  Then
the eagerness returned to her gaze and I saw that her shyness was partly
heartfelt, and perhaps partly affected.
         We undressed.  We got off our bottoms, all of us, and handed
them to Helene.  She held our swimsuits in her gloved hands.  How small
and insubstantial they looked!  Even the men’s swimsuits were just
morsels of rayon.  She turned.  She went to the fireplace.  She took a
poker from the fireset beside the fireplace.  She prodded the burnt logs
in the hearth and made the flames rise a little.  Then, one by one, to
our great shock, she tossed our swimsuits into the fire.
         “Now, though summer is gone, we’re going to pretend it’s still
here,” Helene said.  She took down a single tube of sunscreen from the
mantle over the fire.  “Chloe, this is tangerine flavored Sun Smacker
sunscreen,” Helene said.  “I want you to spread it all over your lips,
just like lipstick.  You’ve used sunscreen before, haven’t you?” she
asked me.
         “A little,” I said.  I usually didn’t bother with suntan lotion
or anything, if I could help it.  The sun and me seemed to get along
pretty well.  Why bother smearing stuff all over your face if you just
tanned naturally?  “I don’t really need it,” I said, hesitating, as
Helene handed me the stick of sunscreen.
         Helene laughed.  “None of us need it.  We’re indoors, Chloe,”
she said.
         “Oh, yeah,” I replied.  I put on the sunscreen.  It tasted
good.  Helene got sticks of sunscreen off the mantle for the others,
adult brands of sunscreen.  Rebecca looked lovely spreading it over her
lips.  Audrey asked for a mirror; Helene got one off the mantle, a
small, hand-held mirror, and handed it to her. 
         “Keep drinking,” Helene told us.  “Just because we’re
pretending it’s still summer doesn’t mean you can’t stop drinking. 
Pretend it’s very hot, and you must drink and drink to beat the heat.”
         “I want to beat my meat,” Alan confessed.  He gazed at his big
cock, standing up lewdly off his belly.
         “Of course you do, darling,” Helene said.  “And I want to beat
your ass.  I hope you lose our little contest.”
         “God, you’re such a woman!” Alan said.  “Do you have to wear
that dress?  What a great figure you have!  I want to see you naked!”
         “Imagine me fully dressed, Alan, just like I am now, and you
bending over bare-assed in front of me, receiving my crop on your
bottom,” Helene told him.
         “That’s it.  I’m peeing right now!” Alan said.
         “No, Alan,” Helene said.  “This is a contest.  I want to see
you squirm in your chair for many minutes before you pee.”
         I shivered.  I couldn’t believe what we were doing.  I glanced
up at the cameras in the four corners of the room.  Surely I should
spring up, demand my clothes back, and leave!  But the sight of David’s
cock kept me bolted to the sofa.  I watched, mesmerized, as he refilled
all our tea cups.  Whenever somebody emptied their cup he was there
immediately, giving them more, forcing them to accept more into their
cup.  How erotic it looked to see him pour tea from the spout of the tea
cup, with his long cock sticking out from his body!
         We drank.  I saw Rebecca shift her hips.  I looked at her.  She
blushed.
         “Oh, I do have to pee!  Can’t I just get up and go use the
toilet?” Audrey asked.  
         “No, Audrey,” Helene said.  “Savor your vacation in France. 
Let yourself relax and enjoy the feeling of your belly filling up with
fine French tea.  When it’s quite impossible to hold it any longer, tell
us, and then pee right here, with your boyfriend and David staring at
your open legs as you flood my expensive chair with pee.”
         “Oh, this is horrible!” Audrey said.  She looked at me, at my
aunt.  Rebecca’s eyes were half-lidded.  Her lips sparkled with the lip
gloss.  She ran her fingers across her tummy, and I knew what she wished
to do.  The same thing I yearned to; to diddle my slit and beg big David
to thrust himself up me!
         “I feel like a slut,” I confessed.
         “A slut?” Helene said.  “Why, because you are obeying me?  Do
you want to feel my crop on your bottom, Chloe?”
         “No!” I said.
         “Then you’ll do just as I tell you, and you’ll not feel like a
slut, because you have no choice in the matter,” Helene said.
         No choice!  The thought made me gasp.  What if Helene made me
Do It with David, would I be a slut then?  Surely I could not be.  No
matter how he fucked me, no matter how wild and depraved we were, it
would all be okay, because Helene had commanded it!
         “But-- but I shouldn’t have come,” I said meekly.
         “And why did you?” Helene asked me.
         “To-- to see the fireman,” I said.
         “You mean David?” Helene asked.
         “Yes,” I said.
         “It is quite healthy for a girl to want to see a man,
especially a man as fine as David,” Helene assured me.  “Spread your
legs wider, Chloe.  I insist.  And have more tea.  David, please serve
her.”
         I admit, after that, I didn’t think anymore about being a
slut.  I was in Helene’s house, under her authority.  I was like a puppy
who, yearning for a master, had found one.  I opened my legs wider and
let my eyes frankly admire David as he poured my tea.  I blushed, but it
was involuntary, I refused to feel shy about my desires anymore.  I
sipped my tea, and watched David’s cock bob as he walked around the
room.  I imagined it peeing.  Would it look like the discharge of a fire
hose when he peed?
         “I have another treat for you, my fair guests,” Helene said. 
She was still standing, watching over us as a mother hen does her
chicks.  She took down a bottle of L’Oreal hair scent from the mantle. 
It had been hidden behind a small, sedate doll poised in her Sunday best
on the mantelpiece, dressed for church.  She handed me the bottle.  “You
first, Chloe,” Helene said.
         “What am I supposed to do?” I said.  I took the plastic cap off
the bottle.  Slightly confused, I lifted the bottle to my head.  My mane
of hair was well-brushed and neatly arranged, but if she wanted me to
scent it for her, I had no objection.  
         “Not the hair on your head, Chloe,” Helene said.  “Spritz your
pubic hair with it.”
         “You want me to perfume my bush?” I asked.  My eyes were wide. 
I was wearing cologne, just a little; it seemed rather an insult to tell
me I needed more, especially on my bush!
         “It is only for the eroticism of it, Chloe,” Helene told me. 
“A game; while we’re waiting for our bladders to fill.”  I wondered at
that.  She, after all, had barely touched the cup of tea David had
poured for her.  Nonetheless, I aimed the hair scent at my bush and
spritzed some on.  How delicious it felt!  How decadent!  Everyone
watched me as I sprayed my dell.
         Helene took the hair scent from me.  She gave it to David! 
“You next,” she said.
         “But this is girl’s perfume!” David said.
         “Spray it on your cock anyway,” Helene told him.
         “God, imagine, the future Arnold Schwarzenegger, spraying his
dick with girl’s perfume,” David groused.  Nonetheless he squirted it
into his bush, and up and down the length of his long cock.  He
stiffened as he did it.  He was already erect, but he became thicker and
even longer as he put the perfume on his manhood.
         “Now give it to Alan,” Helene ordered.
         “This is ridiculous,” Alan said, taking the perfume from David.
         “I know you men just want to fuck, but today we’re going to do
small, delicate things first,” Helene said.  “Tiny acts, carefully
performed, and devoted to the parts of ourselves we usually keep
hidden.”
         “Oh, can’t I just slip out and pee and then come back?” Audrey
asked.  “I do have to go quite badly!”
         “I’m starting to have to go pretty bad too,” I confessed.  I
squirmed in my seat.  How lovely the rich, brocaded cushion of the couch
felt against my bare bottom!  I glanced up at Helene, holding her crop. 
She smiled and said, “The first one to pee will be punished when we go
downstairs, as well as the rest of you, all except for the winner.”
         “What about you?  You’re hardly drinking anything!” I told her.
         Helene looked at me.  “Yes, Chloe.  That’s because I intend for
you to pee for me, not vice versa,” Helene said.
         Oh, how wicked it was!  We all perfumed our genitals, waiting
all the while for them to sprout with pee!  I sucked in my tummy and
tried not to think about my growing need to go to the bathroom. 
Imagine-- using a sedate sitting room to pee in!  And doing it right on
the furniture!  All the while cameras recorded our every squirm, our
every pee-induced movement.  How could Rebecca put herself and me in
such a predicament?  And yet, like her, I yearned to see David pee with
his big fire hose penis.  I sat in my chair with increasing agitation.
         “Next I’ve got some Raspberry Fantasy body lotion for us,”
Helene, still completely clothed in her side-buttoned tunic, informed
us.  She took the bottle down from behind another doll on the mantle. 
She handed it to Alan.
         “You first, honey,” she said, with an intimacy that made Alan’s
girlfriend, Audrey, bite her lip and frown.
         “What am I supposed to do with this?  This is for girls too!”
Alan protested.  I savored the sight of his cock, sticking up firm and
hard from his belly.  How sweet it smelled from across the room, now
that he’d been forced to douse it with perfume!
         “I want you to make your penis all slick and oily by squirting
this body lotion all over it,” Helene told Alan.
         “Raspberry Fantasy body lotion?” Alan asked.  “I’ll smell like
a fucking fruit!”
         “Don’t go by a gay bar on your way home,” David laughed.
         “You have to put it on too, darling,” Helene said, turning to
David.  “Why don’t you gentlemen do each other?  I’m sure we girls would
love seeing it.  Here, David, you take the bottle.  Squirt the lotion
all over Alan’s penis.  Then Alan, you do the same for David.”
         What a delight that was!  Seeing two big men, forced by Helen
to oil up each other’s dicks.  I glanced at Rebecca.  She watched,
wide-eyed, as did I.  I felt a wave of affection for her.  She didn’t
make the best choices when it came to safe partying, but she sure knew
how to find erotic places for us to go!
         “And now,” Helene said, when the men were oiled, and all of us
had perfumed our sex.  “There remains one part of ourselves that has yet
to be dealt with.  She grinned.  “The nipples.”
         “What?” Rebecca gasped.
         “You thought because I let you keep your bra on, that it would
stay on forever?  No, no,” Helene said.  “Girls, I want your bras now. 
And yes, they’ll be burned in the fire, just like your panties.  David,
go around and collect the girls’ bras.  No resisting, girls, or I’ll let
you feel my crop on your fannies a lot sooner than you’d prefer!”
         We took off our tops.  We were naked now, except for our
shoes.  How silly I felt, sitting on the couch in my beaded flower
jewelry, white socks on my feet, and open-toed heels, my slit perfumed,
my sex moistening the chair I sat on!  I showed my breasts.  My nipples
were hard, excited.  David remarked on their condition as he took my top
from me.  I blushed.  Audrey again begged to be allowed to pee, only to
be told by Helene that she could pee whenever she wished.
         “Oh, but not here!  Not in front of everyone!  And the
cameras!” Audrey said.
         “Be good!” Alan barked, from across the room.
         “Oh, Alan, dear, I don’t want to--”
         SWICK!  The sharp crack of Helene’s crop sounded in the room.
         “Yeeeeek!” Audrey said.  We all stared at her.  A red line
formed on her right thigh, where Helene had slapped her.
         “Shall I do the other?” Helene asked, holding her crop aloft
over Audrey’s other leg.  The girl squirmed, tried closing her legs,
then immediately opened them again, lest she incur Helen’s wrath.
         “N-No,” Audrey said.  She sat with her mount well-displayed,
well-disciplined now, offering us a perfect view of her slit and moving
her hips just a little.  “But, oh, I do SO have to go!” Audrey said.
         “Then pee,” Helene answered her.
         “Oh, but I mustn’t, not on the--” 
         Suddenly, to our great surprise, Audrey began pissing!  Her pee
sprouted from between her lovelips and wet the chair she was sitting
in.  She tried rising; Helene clapped a hand on her shoulder.  The girl
stood in a half-risen pose for a moment, peeing down into the chair. 
Then she plopped down onto the love seat again.  She continued relieving
herself.  A low moan escaped from her throat.  She looked down at her
dell and watched in horror as her pee flooded over the seat cushion.
         “Very good,” Helene said.  “You lose, and will have to be
spanked, but you did a nice job peeing.”
         “Oh, I don’t want to be spanked!” Audrey said.  But she sat in
her pee, not moving, and I realized then that she did, in fact, wish to
taste the crop, just a little.  Helene stood over her and smiled down at
her.
         “You’ve done well, Audrey,” Helene said.  “Soon we’ll see how
well your boyfriend does.  Have some more tea.”
         “Yes, ma’am,” Audrey said.  And she picked up her tea cup off
the arm of the sofa and drank from it just as before, despite the fact
that she was sitting in a big puddle of her own pee!
         “None of you will be seeing a bathroom before tomorrow morning,
so you’d better get used to the idea of not having a toilet around,”
Helene told us.  “Chloe, don’t you have to go?” she asked me.
         “Yes!” I said.
         “Then go, dear.  Let’s see you pee on the sofa.”
         “Oh, but it’s so pretty and--” I said.
         “Whenever you’re ready.  Right there where you’re sitting,”
Helene told me.
         “It’s not so bad,” Audrey told me, over the rim of her teacup. 
“It just feels a little... wet.”
         Suddenly David erupted.  He was pouring tea for my aunt, his
hips barely moving, barely betraying his need, when suddenly his dick
squirted pee all over her thighs.  Rebecca screamed.  She held her
teacup for David, receiving the tea from the silver tea kettle, while
watching simultaneously the pee spring from his dick.  David tried
moving, the result was his pee went right into her cup!
         “Oh!  Oh!” my aunt shouted.
         “I’m sorry, I--” David stammered.  I watched as he squeezed his
ass cheeks and tried cutting off the flow of his pee.  No use!  He kept
peeing and peeing, drenching the tea cup.  My aunt moved; the cup
overflowed and she barely avoided having hot tea splash down into her
lap.  David moved again, his stream of pee cascaded directly onto my
aunt’s bare legs.
         “Oh, God!” my aunt cried.  She lost all her reserve and began
peeing too.  David’s pee showered her thighs as she offered her own
golden tribute.  I watched, fascinated.  Only myself and Alan still
managed to retain our urine.
         “Oh, I don’t want to lose!” I said to Alan.  “Please, go to the
bathroom!”
         “I want to see you spanked,” he grinned at me.
         “I can’t hold it much longer,” I said.  My eyes pleaded with
him.  He smirked at me.
         “A guy can always hold himself longer than a girl,” Alan told
me.  “You can forget about winning.”
         “Pee!  Please pee!” I begged.  “Pee like David did.”
         “Not a chance,” Alan said.
         We sat staring at each other for several minutes.  David got a
napkin off the tea tray and wiped his pee from Rebecca’s thighs.  Audrey
asked for a napkin but Helene told her ‘no,’ she only had her own pee
wetting her legs, so she must learn to endure it.
         “I’m wet,” Audrey said.  She looked at me.
         “I don’t want to be wet!” I said.
         “You’re going to be,” Alan said to me.
         “You too!” I told him.
         “Ladies first,” Alan said.
         “Now, for your nipples, a very special treat,” Helene said. 
She picked up a small black bag that had been sitting, unbeknownst to
us, behind the couch I was seated on.  She opened it.  We stared at
several pairs of scissors that she drew from the bag.  “These are
surgical scissors,” Helene said.  “As you can see, they have flattened
blades at the end.  They’re meant to hold parts of the body open, for
surgery.  They work like tweezers.  In our case, we’re going to put one
on each of our nipples, to clamp them.”
         “Oh, why?” my aunt, sitting in pee, her cunt well-displayed,
her nipples too hard, asked.  Her eyes looked both shocked and excited
by the proposal.
         “Because, like I said, we’re going to do small, exquisite
things first, to our private parts,” Helene told her.  “To tease.  Then,
later, we’ll do rougher things.”
         “I don’t want my boobies clamped!” Audrey said.  I looked at
her.  She had bright eyes.  She bit her lower lip.  She thrust forward
her tits.  She was bashful, but not as much as she wished us to believe.
         I trembled.  I was still trying to hold back my pee as Helene
began her game with the scissors.  She started with me.
         “Ouch!” I said, as the first of the scissors was applied to my
tits.  Helene clamped my left tit with a pair of scissors, then my
right.  Two pair of scissors were fastened onto me.  How lewd I looked,
with surgical scissors dangling from the tips of my breasts.  I squirmed
in my seat.  The scissors hurt!  Not impossibly, but enough that I would
have torn them off myself, if only I could figure out how Helene had
managed to get the handles of each scissors to fasten together.  I gaped
at my titties.  The scissors weighed down my breasts.  They made them
hang lower.  “Oh, I’ll have saggy tits!” I cried.
         “Nonsense, dear.  You’re only going to wear them a little
while,” Helene told me.  I didn’t want the scissors but I wasn’t a
doctor, so I didn’t feel skilled enough to remove them.  Helene wasn’t a
doctor either, but she obviously knew what she was doing.  “Please,
Helene, take them off!” I begged.
         “No,” Helene said.  
         “I have scissors on my tits,” I said, bouncing in my chair,
gaping at Rebecca.
         “I know,” Rebecca said softly.
         “They hurt,” I told her.
         Helene went over to my aunt.  Rebecca watched as the first of
the scissors was applied to her own tits.
         “Ouch!” Rebecca said.
         “Yes, I’m nipping your nipples,” Helene laughed.  “Sit still,
dear.”
         “I can’t!” my aunt said.  Yet she stayed reasonably still as
the other pair of scissors was pinched onto her other breast.  Audrey
watched, waiting, sipping her tea, looking disconsolate.
         Tingling and burning to pee, with my bottom seated comfortably
if tight-cheeked on the couch, I waited for the inevitable to happen. 
There was not much time left.  My bladder was bulging and I squirmed
salaciously, drawing Alan’s eyes to me and causing him to laugh that
there was no way a girl could beat a boy in a peeing contest.
         “Everyone knows girls have bladders the size of peanuts,” Alan
told me.
         “I’m going to win!” I promised him.  But I couldn’t possibly
imagine how.  My tummy felt like it was going to burst!  I squeezed my
eyes shut.  I tried not to think about the scissors clamped to my
titties.  Oh, if only I had a pair of those scissors up inside me, to
hold back my pee!  I ran my fingers over my thighs.  I clapped a hand to
my dell.
         “She’s cheating,” Alan said.
         “What?  Squeezing your muffin?” Helene asked me.
         Through shut eyes I said, “I must GO!”
         “Let her squeeze her muffin if she thinks it can help her,”
Helene told Alan.
         “Can I rub my dick if it will help me?” Alan asked.
         “Of course not,” Helene said.  “I may not have a penis, but I
know about jacking off.  You men always spurt when you do that.”
         “So, I’ll jack and pee at the same time,” Alan said.  “My balls
are full too.”
         “And they’ll stay full, young man,” Helene said.  “No jacking
off in my sitting room.”
         “Oh, GOD!” I cried.  Suddenly I felt a significant wetness
between my legs.  My eyes flew open and I looked down at myself.  “Oh,
no!  AM I DOING IT?!” I shouted.  Alan laughed.  I couldn’t believe I
was losing!  I had tried so hard to win!  As I watched, the lips of my
cunt squirted pee all over the seat cushion I was sitting on.  My dry
seat became a wet seat.  I was undone.
         “Ahhhhhh,” Alan announced.  Seeing that he had won, he released
his pee with abandon.  It sprouted from the tip of his penis and arced
out across the room.  It struck the coffee table.  Some of his pee
splattered onto the tea service sitting on the coffee table.  David
cleared his throat, meant to speak, then shrugged his shoulders.  
         “Alan, you’re peeing all over my tea kettle!” Helene scolded. 
She hurried over to the coffee table and slid the tray father away from
Alan.  He laughed.  He arched his hips.  His pee shot in a longer arc
and hit the tea kettle again.  “Alan!” Helene shrieked.
         “I guess you’ll have to whip my ass for that,” Alan said.  
         “Yes, I certainly will!” Helene assured him.
         “Oh, God.  French sex!” Alan said.  I saw that he’d come to
Helene’s to do more than just show himself.  Like his girlfriend, he had
a longing to find out what a sharply-applied crop felt like on his
behind.  I looked at the pee stained kettle and guessed he wouldn’t have
long to wait.