Miss Sandra Chapter 4
By NAMB
modestnot@gmail.com
Copyright 2011 by NAMB
all rights reserved
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* * * *
This
story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced
nudity,
spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This
is fantasy, and the
author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life.
If you are not of legal age in your community to read or
view
such material, please leave now.
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* * * *
Chapter
4
-=Sandra’s and Tammy’s Naked Sex Slave=-
We finally got to Tammy’s
house. I was expecting to be led up to Tammy’s bedroom where I would be jerked
off. Instead we stopped in the middle of the living room and Sandra ordered,
“Get naked.”
“Here?”
“Yes, you can fold your
clothes and put them in that chair.”
I felt like arguing with Sandra
about getting completely naked, and about getting naked in front of Tammy, but
I knew I wanted it to happen, and that I would lose the argument anyway.
I got undressed in front of
the two girls. Sandra seemed to take it in stride, but Tammy was all giggles.
I pulled off my underwear
and stood up. Another part of my body was also standing up and it didn’t go
unnoticed by the girls.
“Gee, he’s hard already,
and we haven’t even touched him,” Tammy said. Then she added, “You’re right, he
is bigger than Nate, and he’s got hair around it too!”
“We can deal with the hair
at some other time. Right now, we need to put him to work.”
I didn’t have time to
ponder what she meant about dealing with my hair at some other time or about putting
me to work.
Sandra immediately
impressed me with what she meant by “Putting me to work.”
“Ryan, there are sodas in
the refrigerator out in the kitchen. Get Tammy and me a soda, and then go back
and make some snacks for us. The cheese is in the refrigerator. The crackers
are in the cabinet next to it. We’ll be in the den.”
“I thought …” I started to
say, but Sandra cut me off.
“You thought I was going to
jerk you off. Well, that’s correct. I will. However, there are some things you
need to learn before I do that. Eileen and I had a lot of talks about how a boy
should treat a girl. If you want your fun, you’re going to have to play by the
rules.
The most important thing for
a boy to learn is that the girl is always in charge. She has the final say in
what happens with his penis. If he obeys her and pleases her, then she will
take care of him and he will have a great time. If he disobeys her or fails to
please her, she will spank and punish him, as if denial of sexual favors isn’t
enough. A boy doesn’t get it unless the girl decides he’s earned it.
We’ll get around to jerking
you off later, however right now it time for you to earn your keep and for us
girls to have fun. Tammy’s mom will be out for most of the day, so there’s no
rush.”
The girls sat on the couch
in the den room next to each other and turned on the TV as I went out to the
kitchen to fetch them their snacks. I found the cheese and crackers and made up
a plate for each of us.
They were giggling and
whispering when I came back in.
“What are you doing?”
Sandra asked.
“Getting us some snacks as
you suggested.” “Suggested” wasn’t quite the word I had in mind. It was an
order, and I had no doubt about it.
“When I said get us some
snacks, I meant get Tammy and me some snacks. You were not included in that
invitation. You are here to serve us.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered
and placed the snacks on the table in front of the girls.
“Not on the table!” Sandra
screamed. “You got to get us coasters for the sodas,” she said as Tammy and she
grabbed them. “Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”
I guess not.
“They’re over there,” Tammy
said, pointing across the room.
I retrieved the coasters
and brought them to the table.
“Here, put this back,”
Sandra said, handing me back the soda can. “I’ll tell you when you can eat.
We’ll have lunch in about an hour.”
When I returned she said,
“Stand there and face us,” pointing to a spot directly in front of them. “I
should spank you for that indiscretion, but I’ll let it go since this is your
first time being my boyfriend.”
“Spank me?”
“Yeah, do you have a
problem with that? Eileen says that we girls need to train you boys properly.
Mostly it’s carrot rather than stick. If you please us, we please you. However,
being boys, you’ll screw up. So sometimes we have to discipline you. Besides
I’ve spanked you before. Remember?”
“But that was different.
Eileen …”
“No buts. You were going to
tell me that Eileen spanked you and she let me participate. Well, I’m a grown
girl now and I have the right to spank you when you deserve it. Do you want me
to make a point of that now?”
“You used to spank him? Oh,
I’d like to see that!” Tammy added.
“Tammy, you stay out of
this. This is between me and Sandra.” I snapped and regretted saying it as soon
as the last word left my mouth.
Sandra was on me
immediately, “Ryan Peter Johnson! You apologize to my friend right now. I will
decide whose business this is. She is my friend and more than that, she’s a
girl. You never talk that way to a girl. You should be polite to every girl.
As my boyfriend, your first
duty is to be nice to me. That means that you are supposed to be nice to my
friends as well.”
I bowed my head and
mumbled, “I’m sorry. Tammy.”
“That’s ‘Miss Tamura’ to
you, and I am ‘Miss Sandra.’ You will use our proper titles whenever we’re
together.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Tamura.”
“Much better. Now get a
chair from the kitchen, and bring it in here.” I was going to ask why, but as
is often said, “If you can’t stand the answer, don’t ask the question.”
I brought the chair as
ordered. Sandra (in my mind “Miss Sandra”) got up and sat on it. She pointed to
her lap and said, “Get over here!”
Soon, I was draped over the
lap of a girl who stood almost as high as my chest. The scene must have looked
comical as Miss Tamura broke out laughing. It wasn’t funny for me.
I was hard as I tried to
nestle my erected penis on Sandra’s lap. She opened her legs a little and it
went into the slot. She then clamped close around it. I had the urge to hump
her bare thighs, but thought better of it.
Other thoughts also crossed
my mind. What was happening here? Up until this morning, I was a normal boy.
Now I’m naked over a girl’s lap – a girl who is two years younger than me –
getting ready to be spanked as her friend watches.
How did I let myself get
into this situation? Or did I? There was hardly any “letting” involved. I felt
like this was something I had to do. Sandra won control over me that first
night at her house years ago. I didn’t know it then, but I do know it now. I
really wanted it badly and knew that if I was going to get it off, it would
have to be Sandra’s way.
I knew what was going to
happen, but was shocked when her hand came down to hit my butt. It wasn’t a
hard hit, but it startled me nonetheless. Sandra brought blow after blow on my
behind. For an 11-year-old, she really knew how to spank.
She didn’t hit very hard,
but the humiliation of being over her lap being spanked like a little boy was
taking its toll. My ass was red, but I could feel my whole body flushing.
Finally, she was done and
said, “Now go stand in the corner with your hands on your head.”
I did as I was told, and I
could hear Tammy say, “Wow, that was great. Where did you learn how to do
that?”
“From Eileen. As I said, I’ve
done Ryan before. Also, a couple of times Eileen has to babysit a little boy
for the couple down the block. She’s convinced his parents and my parents to
‘double up,’ so we go to his house. I want to learn to babysit, and I can help
her out. His parents are OK with the idea, and my parents think it’s a great
experience for me. Eileen spanks him when he’s bad and sometimes lets me do it,
so I got a lot of practice.”
I stood there, face in the
corner, hands on my head as I listened to the girls chat about boys and
shopping and school as they watched TV and ate their snacks.
“Turn around,” I was
ordered and I did so.
“Did you learn your
lesson?”
“Yes, Miss Sandra.”
“Good. Now let’s all go to
the kitchen. We’ll show you how to make lunch.”
Lunch was a friendly
affair. I made it under the girls’ supervision, and I cleaned up after it. But
I was allowed to sit and eat with the girls, and they included me in the
conversation. Mostly it was about school and the things we planned to do for
the summer. It was all very normal if you consider a naked 13-year-old boy
sitting and chatting with two fully-clothed 11-year-old girls normal.
“You see,” Sandra said as I
was cleaning up, “if you behave yourself, us girls will treat you nice. In
fact, I think you deserve a reward for being so nice. When you are done here,
come back to the den and I’ll take care of you.”
One would have thought I
was a puppy who just heard its mistress ask if he wanted to go for a walk. I
was capering about excitedly. This was all I was thinking about ever since I
made up my mind to ask Sandra to masturbate me. I had to restrain myself and be
careful with the dishes so I didn’t break any. I didn’t want to do anything
that might nullify Sandra’s offer.
Sandra had me sit on the
coffee table facing the couch. The girls sat on the couch and I was between Sandra’s
knees. “This is going to be like when we did it with Nate,” she explained. “Only,
Ryan’s already big and hard. Bigger and hard,” she added with a giggle.
She grabbed my penis in her
hand for the first time in several years. It felt like I was coming home after
a long absence.
As she moved her hand up
and down the shaft, I noticed that she added a new feature to her technique: as
she completed each stroke, she rubbed her thumb over the head. She also slowed
down a lot from what I remembered. She had obviously been practicing. I
wondered how many penises besides mine she had done in her short lifetime.
I couldn’t wonder for too
long. She had brought me step by sensuous step to the edge of my sexual
endurance and my concentration was sucked like in a whirlpool into what she was
doing to me. My entire essence was in my penis, and it was in her hand.
Had I been doing this
myself, I could not have resisted my body’s urges. I would have pressed forward
with more vigorous rubbing at the first tickle of sexual tension. I would have
peaked early, but low. Very low when compared to the pleasure I remember Sandra
giving me when I was a child about her age.
And now I felt that I was
being brought to an even higher level of pleasure – it was like filling a tire
with air using a pump. Each stroke adds a little more pressure. She was pumping
me full of pleasure and I wondered if my tire were to bust like a balloon, what
a bang it would make.
It started as a spark at
the base of my penis that ignited my nervous system like a fuse. The excitement
raced along every fiber of my body in a flash and I exploded. Every cell in my
body was tingling with sexual release induced by the movement of her hands.
My entire essence was in my
penis and it was in her hands. It was as if my entire body was my penis and it
was contracting and convulsing with it as I could feel my life fluid gushing
out of it. I was being tossed on a tempest of pleasure: the waves propelling me
up then tossing me to free-fall down from the crest into the trough only to be
pushed up again to another height.
Wave upon wave slammed my
body as each contraction gushed semen from my body like an erupting volcano in
large arcs that shot skyward only to be caught by gravity to come crashing back
down upon itself.
Slowly, I came back to
earth. I felt the last few waves crashing into me and I was washed up on the
shore, battered, beaten and exhausted.
I gradually became aware of
Sandra’s hand and then piece-by-piece, the girl attached to it. As my mind
cleared and my focus returned I could see Tammy’s face and the awed expression
on it. Time resumed and I was able to piece together what had just happened.
As consciousness slowly
reestablished itself, I became aware of where I was: naked, legs splayed wide
open in front of the two girls. My body was covered with hot cum. Sandra, her
job done, lifted her hand in a courtly gesture. She had not forgotten the
lesson Eileen taught her. I took it and kissed it and licked my cum off it.
“Wow, look at that mess,”
she exclaimed. “You came more than Bobby did, and he was older. I’ve never seen
a boy cum with so much cum
“How many boys did you see
make cum,” her friend asked.
“Just Bobby and Ryan. All
the other boys were too young.”
Again I wondered, “How many
other boys.” Then it didn’t matter, I was her boy now.
Tammy handed me a box of
tissues and offered, “You better blot yourself off, and then take a shower.
Your first duty is to clean up the mess you made.”
“Please, Miss Tamura, give
me a chance to rest. I’m still dizzy.”
“Well, don’t take too much
time. I’m supposed to clean the house and do the laundry. That is, you’ll be
cleaning the house and doing the laundry.”
I took a brief rest,
cleaned up my mess, took a shower and went on to accomplish a “to do” list
under Tammy’s supervision.
Sandra brought me off again
just before we had to leave.
-=o=-
Although we had a “date”
nearly every day, the girls and I usually met over at Tammy’s house only twice
a week.. Most of my time spent there was as their “naked sex slave” doing the
cleaning, the sweeping, the vacuuming and other domestic chores under their
supervision.
I actually kind of got to
like it. The girls were nice, and heaped praise on me whenever I did a good
job. When I wasn’t working, we hung out and did other things together like
playing games and talking, and that was fun too.
Sandra and Tammy really
enjoyed making me cum, and of course, that was the main reason I kept coming
back.
After the first week, Tammy
was getting a little restless. She enjoyed watching Sandra masturbating me, but
she wanted some action herself. “Do you think you could let me do him, at least
once?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sandra
said. “That’s so selfish of me. I know friends should share things. I mean we
share secrets, we share clothes so why not share our boys. Of course. You can
do him this afternoon before we go home.”
I was of a mixed mind about
being shared. On the one hand, it would be interesting to feel what Tammy was
like. Aside from Sandra and me, the only other hands ever on my penis were
Eileen’s and Kathy’s and that was years ago.
On the other hand, Sandra
was such an expert, that I wondered if any other girl could match her skill.
On the third hand, there
was the concept of being compared to an article of clothing. This was my body.
It was my penis. It was what made me a man. It was my semen, the lifeblood of a
future generation. It was about my sexual pleasure. And Sandra treated it all
as casually as a blouse she might lend her friend.
I wasn’t even asked if I
would like to have Tammy masturbate me. I was never asked to grant permission
for her to touch my body. Sandra assumed she had the right to touch me anytime
she wanted, and that the right extended to anyone she choose.
So I felt very uneasy as I
sat there with my legs apart on the coffee table for my afternoon handjob.
First of all, it was “Miss Tamura” who was front and center, and “Miss Sandra”
was off to the side watching and coaching. Then there was the odd feel of a
strange girl’s hand on my penis.
“Miss Tamura” was obviously
a good student. She must have paid a lot of attention watching Sandra
manipulate my penis. I felt good almost immediately. Although she was following
Sandra’s patented formula for male masturbation, her hands felt differently on
my body and I reacted differently. The novelty was exciting.
I came, and I came good.
For a novice, she did really well, and I wondered if with practice she could
make me cum as good as Sandra.
“Wow, that was great,” she
said as she lifted her hand for me to lick clean. “I hope you’ll let me do that
again.”
“Of course. But just
remember, he’s my boyfriend.”
(The End)