Part 3 - Dinner Guests

The shadows were starting to lengthen as the old man got up and reached for his walking stick. It was a signal for the party to pack up and return to the house.

"Girls, you are going to be allowed to stay up a little late tonight because we have visitors. A bit of a treat! Put on your best clothes for dinner. It's not like the beach when you can run around in the altogether to your heart's content. No, no, I know you like doing that. Remember, though, little girls are to be seen and not heard with grownups. Be polite and answer if spoken to. Now you go and have your bath, wash all that salt off and get dressed."

Celia was not surprised, not at all surprised to find Natasha and her 'best clothes' were the school uniforms again. Neatly laid out across their bed.

The pleated maroon skirt, the matching woollen jacket, the white shirt with its crisp white collar so suitable for the carefully folded tie, sensible shoes and long white socks. Two piles of matching clothes - except her panties were maroon and Natasha's white. No brassieres of course.

Good to bathe and wash the salt away, good to shampoo hair clear of sand, nice actually to sit naked on the bed with Natasha and plait her hair and have the same done to herself. There was little point fighting against the old man - Mr Levinson allegedly - they would have to dress in the uniforms and might as well do the hair themselves. Celia was sure otherwise the men would do it - very possibly being made to sit on their laps whilst they did it, very possibly sitting there with an erection inside them. And, after all. it was nice to do each other's hair.

Hair done they again sat together, side by side. Natasha's hand reached out and cupped one of Celia's breasts. It was obvious Natasha was feeling the same as she. An unexpected interest in each other and not simply as 'friends.'

The bedroom door opened. It was the old man. He was dressed very finely in a black dinner suit complete with bow tie. The dinner was clearly going to be remarkably formal for a summer's evening down by the beach.

"Not ready yet? Come on girls get those socks on."

He stood there quite obviously taking pleasure in the girls' dressing, in seeing them in just white long socks.

"Shirts and ties."

Again no doubt pleasing to see a couple of girls in white shirts with their bottoms and mounds - denuded mounds - peeping out underneath. Partial nudity being more erotic than the complete thing. Celia remembered how much she had enjoyed seeing a former boyfriend wandering around the bedroom in just shirt and tie in the morning whilst getting dressed with his 'equipment' hanging, swinging and peeping out. She remembered one morning making it rise by just bringing one naked thigh out from under the bedclothes. How fine it had looked standing sticking out from under his shirt. She had called to him and she had sucked - it had all caused him to be late for work! Celia was no stranger to sex but not like this, not abducted and used.

"Well you can hardly go into dinner like that can you? Come on, knickers and skirts."

Natasha and Celia complied. They picked up the jackets and put them on.

"Come, come and meet our guests. Don't forget to be polite and curtsey as you've been taught."

Curtsey?

The guests proved to be a couple of elderly and distinguished looking gentlemen. Their hair was grey and they were dressed in evening wear like their host. Their faces were all smiles as they saw the girls.

"Emily-Sue, my how you've grown. Quite the little lady! And Tabitha, well, what can I say! You are getting a tall girl."

Both Natasha and Celia curtseyed. It was not a bad effort.

"And tell me," said the other, "how old are you now?"

"Twenty," said Celia finding she could speak.

"Nineteen, sir." said Natasha.

The men looked at each other and laughed.

"Don't wish the years away girls. I know, I know."

"But they are getting bigger, Stephen. They'll soon be blossoming out into women you know."

"I know Archie, I know, perhaps next year they won't want to come and enjoy the simple pleasures of the beach and will want to be off at parties and all those sorts of things."

"A shame. They all grow up too soon."

"Indeed. Girls, this is Mr Staples and Mr Carnforth. Perhaps you don't remember them."

It was hardly likely, thought Celia. She suspected, though, that she was going to get to know them better; could not think that the pretence of them being little girls would give way to the reality of them being helpless big girls fully available for Mr Staples and Mr Carnforth's sexual gratification. If both Mr Staples and Mr Carnforth's penes were not in her mouth and vagina, and perhaps elsewhere, by the end of the evening then she was a Dutchman!

The party sat on the veranda, the sound of the sea providing a pleasant backdrop. The men talked and largely seem to ignore the girls as the soup course went by.

"Did you have a nice time on the beach today?"

"No, it was horrid, Mr Carnforth." Celia could not avoid it. She was permitted to answer but had to be polite. It was absurd.

"Emily-Sue!" Mr Levinson looked annoyed. "They had a lovely time only perhaps Emily-Sue felt something unexpected in the sea. I think it frightened her, a fish or something, slithering against her - you know - girlie bits, it frightened her a little, I think."

"What about you Tabitha?" It was Mr Staples speaking.

"Course we didn't. It was awf..."

"Tabitha! I don't know what's come over them. Perhaps they are tired and want to go to bed. They've done a lot of running around with the boys. Any more of that and it will be a spanking."

Celia thought she caught the faintest trace of a smile, a very satisfied smile on the faces of both of the guests. She now knew what was coming.

The main course - delicious but the girls ate sullenly. They did not want to be there. A clatter from Natasha as she put her cutlery down.

"Tabitha!"

"What!" she snapped.

It was enough. It was the excuse the old man needed: not that any excuse was really needed. He had the girls, after all, completely in his power. He pushed back his chair. "Tabitha come here."

All eyes were on the black girl, the black girl in her neat school uniform with the long white socks. She came around, as she was told, to stand in front of the old man. Legs a little apart, hands on hips looking a little defiant. She looked very much the cross little schoolgirl with her pouting face and pigtails: or would have done if it was not for the very obvious swell of her bosom and her height.

"You know what happens to girls who are naughty. Well?"

"No, I..."

"Tabitha, be quiet. They get spanked. Come, bend over my knee."

Celia watched in disbelief as Natasha placed herself over his knees. Her bottom uppermost, her lovely black legs sticking out from under her skirt and below her knees the whiteness of her socks. She knew, of course, that Natasha had not choice. The old man had spoken. He raised his hand.

"The material of young Tabitha's pleated skirt is quite thick, Stephen. I can't imagine at school they're punished like that. When I was at school old Mr Manners always insisted we took our shorts down. I think perhaps you are a little lenient?" Mr Carnforth's comment was made with a definite sparkle in his eye. It was not a disinterested observation.

Mr Levinson hand carefully went to the hem of the skirt and gently raised the material; letting the white panties slowly come into view.

"White?" Queried Mr Staples. "Not quite the uniform panties. I expect she would get a further paddling for that at school."

"Indeed," the old man replied. "Emily-Sue, have you uniform knickers on? Show us."

And Celia had to stand, her legs seemed not under her control at all and would not let her do anything else. She lifted her skirt up by its hem and showed the elderly men her maroon knickers. What a thing to be showing to a dinner party of men.

"Emily-Sue, take them off please and give them to Tabitha to put on."

Celia did not leave her skirt up whilst she pulled her knickers down; did not give the men a sight of her shaved mound and bottom - though she was quite sure they would all see more than enough of them by the end of the evening.

Natasha too stood and pulled her white panties from under her skirt. They were taken by Mr Carnforth. They were not given to Celia.

Celia handed her knickers to Natasha and they were pulled up. Celia wondered if Natasha liked the idea of her sex being intimate with the material that had so recently covered her own. She hoped so.

Bent over Mr Levinson's lap again the skirt was once more slowly lifted revealing maroon knickers and brown thighs.

"That's better," he said. His hand descended. It was not a gentle slap. There was an "ow" from Natasha. All the men smiled. The hand came down again and the buttocks jumped and clenched within the thick maroon cotton.

"It's been a long time since I chastised a little girl," said Mr Staples.

Celia watched, feeling strangely vulnerable without knickers beneath her skirt; she knew this was not a comment from Mr Staples but a request. It was acceded to.

Natasha was swopped from one pair of knees to another; the skirt raised and a different hand descended.

"Do you think it is hurting enough? I mean smacking should cause a bit of smarting! Mr Manners often pulled our pants down as well."

Clearly Mr Staples needed little encouragement. His fingers were on the elasticised top and gently easing the knickers down revealing, inch by inch, Natasha's lovely rounded brown bottom. The maroon knickers were not eased down a little but all the way down to her ankles. Celia watched as Natasha's buttocks clenched, perhaps anticipating the next slap or worrying that an inquisitive finger might perhaps slip between the cheeks and touch her bottom hole. Celia remembered how her own fingers had touched Natasha there in the bath, how she had carefully soaped the wrinkled rubbery orifice and felt Natasha doing the same to her own.

The finger did not come but the hand did. It was a firm slap, flesh on flesh. It looked like it hurt and Natasha certainly let out a yelp. Celia wondered what it would be like to spank Natasha - it was awful to think she really would not mind if the men asked her to do that just a little.

Down came the hand again.

"I think," said Mr Carnforth, "it does young girls good to have a firm hand on their buttocks."

Celia could see he was looking at her; could see where his thoughts were drifting - very probably beyond a firm hand on the buttocks to a firm penis between her legs! Mr Carnforth probably thought it did young girls good to have a firm penis between their legs. She knew, though, that the first thing would be a spanking. Again she felt her vulnerability - she had no knickers on anymore.

Mr Staples hand came down on Natasha's quivering buttocks once again.

"There, there, don't cry." Mr Staples hand was lightly stroking the smooth dark brown skin of Natasha's buttocks. "You had to be punished."

Natasha was not crying. It was all a game. Mr Staples stroking fingers were 'accidentally' curved so the finger tips were stroking right in her bottom crack. Celia just knew he was going to touch her bottom hole - just knew it.

"Don't," she said.

It was the excuse.

"Emily-Sue come here." It was the old man. "I thought I told you only to speak when you were spoken to. Like Tabitha I think a quick smacking will remind you of your manners."

Celia's limbs did not obey her but Mr Levinson. She just lay across his knees like she had not done since, since... not even a boyfriend had asked her to play that game.

She felt the material of her maroon pleated skirt being lifted and her bottom being brought into view. She knew five pairs of male eyes would be on it, enjoying the sight. Mr Levinson, Mr Carnforth, Mr Staples and the two minders would all be watching and thinking what they might like to do with it and her - and, she knew, not only were they thinking that but knew they could and, sometime that evening, would!

The old man's hand was firm - and it hurt! Once, twice, thrice the hand descended.

Mr Carnforth's voice again, "Stephen, I wonder if I might help. I wouldn't want you to hurt your hand."

Celia was told to go and lie over Mr Carnforth's knee. Standing, her skirt fell back down hiding her buttocks. That would not last long. Once more she lay down across a man's knees, once more she felt her skirt being lifted. A hand right at the bottom of her cheeks almost touching her sex, pushing her a little further across the knees, bringing her bottom a little higher. A slight easing apart of her legs with the whole manoeuvre, no doubt, designed to give Mr Carnforth a bit of a view of her bottom hole and sex.

Celia clenched her cheeks both in anticipation of the slap and trying to hide her private parts. The hand descended with more force and enthusiasm than Mr Levinson. It hurt - and so did the several slaps that followed. Natasha may not have cried. Tears though welled up in Celia's eyes.

"There, there," said Mr Carnforth, "all over now. Punishment is good for little girls so they learn their lessons."

Celia felt her own bottom being stroked. Gentle fingers... but gentle fingers creeping.

"Time for pudding," I think said Mr Levinson.

The men stood at the veranda rail looking out over the sands.

"Would you perhaps," the old man turned to his guests and paused. The sound of waves lapping the shore came clear across the sand. They could all see the white of the breaking waves by the moonlight. It was a lovely peaceful scene. Mr Levinson continued, "Perhaps you would like to go for a swim whilst you are here. Refreshing after dinner. Lovely by moonlight."

"I'm sorry, Stephen, I forgot to bring my trunks."

"Oh, no worries, Archie. The girls don't notice that sort of thing. The boys and I don't normally worry either. I can't think you will worry about being naked with other men. I mean, remember school!"

Celia thought girls would certainly notice if old men were like that, She could see beneath the material of their trousers the old men were not exactly at rest. There was a definite straining.

"The girls will keep you company and, so you don't feel strange, they won't have their costumes either. Actually they don't have any with them, not even their school black one pieces. You don't mind, girls?"

It was a question, they could answer.

"Yes, yes we do."

"Oh dear, you see Archie and Matthew, they are starting to get conscious of their bodies, they are growing up. Such a shame. I think you might see a little 'budding' of their breasts. Don't be silly girls, there's nothing to be ashamed about nakedness. You didn't feel like that with the boys and me today. Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples will help you once they are ready. Now watch them; they are not embarrassed getting undressed in front of you."

And so Celia and Natasha had to watch. It was so obvious the men were enjoying undressing in front of the girls, their smiles, occasional whispered comments - a pleasurable exhibitionism - all the way down to their seriously tented boxers. Celia could see they were having a lovely time. Finally the boxers came down as they turned from the girls and then, they turned around completely naked to face the girls and the old man. From Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples perspective there should have been a fanfare to announce the revealing, the exposure of their twin erections - fully extended and clearly at the peak of their excitement.

Celia had to admit that, like the two minders, these two gentlemen had nothing to worry about in the genitalia department. They came walking towards the girls, their big shiny helmets pointing upwards and swaying. It was obvious to Celia that they were really loving doing that, loving the opportunity of exposing themselves to, well, young women - Celia had no illusion they really thought themselves about to go swimming with young schoolgirls. It was all just a game to them - they knew perfectly well Natasha and she were mature girls.

"Come on Emily-Sue and Tabitha let's get these old school clothes off."

They had to be unresisting as first jackets were removed and then, unnecessarily slowly, blouses were undone, button by button, and pulled apart to reveal their breasts and nipples. Clearly the men were itching to get their hands on them but that was yet not the game. They were simply undressing the girls for a swim - as if they could not do it for themselves. Blouses removed, the men stepped backwards to look.

"The girls are getting bigger, you know, Stephen. They'll need brassieres soon, training brassieres - they'll like that. It's what big girls wear. They'll be really excited by that."

"I know, I know. Such a pity. But I have a lady coming to measure them and fit them."

The men, all of them, taking great pleasure in the girls dressed just in their pleated maroon skirts and long white socks yet naked from the waist up with their, hardly just budding, breasts so on show.

Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples with their exposed and straining erections reached for the clasps of the skirts. Celia noticed, with some distain, that their penes actually touched the material, were even briefly rubbed against it and then down came the skirts all the way to the floor leaving the girls naked but for their white socks.

Celia could not help thinking how lovely Natasha looked in just white socks, socks reaching almost to her knees. The delicious contrast of her dark, dark smooth skin and the white cotton of the socks so pleasing to the eye. Celia so wished she could take Natasha away, get away from these awful men, and take her to bed. How lovely it would be to touch and run her tongue over her body made just so extra sexy by those white socks. They would not be coming off!

But coming off they would have to be for swimming. Mr Carnforth lifted Natasha up under her arms, no doubt pleased to have his hands on her flesh, and plonked her down on the table's edge. He was actually standing there between her open thighs, his erection inches from her sex looking like he was about to engage with her - yes, push his penis into her and engage in coitus. He was momentarily transfixed by what he was seeing and where he was standing. It really did look like he was about to and it so clearly went through his mind. Instead, he stepped back and gently lifted one leg and then the other and rolled Natasha's socks down her calves but looking, so clearly looking, not at the socks but right at the soft folds of Natasha's sex, her now so hairless sex.

Celia could see Mr Carnforth was sweating with excitement; she could easily imagine a spontaneous ejaculation simply caused by his delight at seeing Natasha so exposed and, of course, being able to touch to roll her socks down her legs. Celia imagined his penis suddenly jerking and spewing out white onto Natasha's shaved mound - again the contrast of white on black skin. Celia was appalled to find herself rather wishing, if it happened, to be able to lick it off by kneeling and applying her lips to Natasha's sex. Never mind the men in the room!

What was happening to her? She had not had these feelings about women before - but wasn't Natasha simply lovely?

Celia's socks were also removed and the girls ushered down the veranda steps, the men following - no doubt staring happily at the twin female bottoms, enjoying the manly feel of their swaying erections.

The old man stood in his evening suit leaning on his stick and watching the four naked figures getting smaller as they walked to the sea. He smiled and went to pour himself a brandy.

They came back up the veranda steps, the men laughing and joking. It was perhaps not the same for the girls. There had been a lot of serious groping in the sea. Not really what aged visitors were meant to do with little girls when the host was not there to see! Penes had touched flesh moreover.
"Was that good, Archie, Matthew, girls?"

"Refreshing indeed!"

The old men were not now sporting erections - perhaps they had got a little cold walking from the sea.

Towels handed out or rather to the men who took great pleasure in drying the girls as well as themselves - another opportunity to put hands and towel everywhere.

"Well, let's have coffee. No, don't bother to dress again. You might want another swim. The girls might want to play again on the beach in the dark. Perhaps the boys will join them. I can see they had a great time with you."

Celia thought Natasha and her less than enthusiastic looks gave a lie to that.

"And I'm sure they'd rather sit on your laps than back on those chairs. Go on girls, you choose whose lap to sit on. They do so like to be friendly."

Celia and Natasha had no choice; no choice but to sit on the naked laps of the old men and rest their soft and plump bottoms on the old men's bony thighs. Just as Celia knew she would, she could feel Mr Carnforth's penis like a cold wet slug under her bottom and, just as she knew she would, she felt it grow and get warmer. Across the table Natasha was sitting on Mr Staples lap. She did not look pleased. Celia thought her cross face still so beautiful.

Her eyes were on Natasha's body and her hardly little girl, dark brown bosom with the so black nipples. Celia watched them. They jiggled a bit as Mr Staples moved, perhaps he was trying to get a little more comfortable but by Natasha's suddenly widened eyes Celia knew the 'more comfortable' position was with his erection slipped up into her. He did not bounce her up and down in the motions of intercourse: he seemed happy just being like that. Celia could not imagine Natasha thought the same - or that she, herself, would. She knew it was coming to her.

Mr Carnforth's penis was certainly growing under her. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat through it. It was quite fast.

"Ah, Emily-Sue, if I could move you a little bit, you are squashing a muscle you see; ah, yes, that's better; my, you are getting a big girl!"

The 'little better' had been a bit of a 'feel,' the pushing of his penis against her and then, as she knew it would, a sliding in. A 'big girl' indeed: more a big boy under her. Celia's eyes sought Natasha's. Her eyebrows and head went up and in response Natasha shrugged. There was nothing the two girls could do. They were sitting on these two old men's laps perhaps not yet being fucked but certainly engaged in coitus.

The conversation between the men went on as if nothing was happening, the girls just sitting there listening with the men's erections motionless inside them. Occasionally Mr Carnforth would stroke her as if reminding her he knew she was there. Once or twice he cupped her breast or tweaked a nipple. Not really what a man would do to a little girl seated on his lap - not to her budding breasts.

"Girls, why don't you change places? Tabitha, go and sit on Mr Carnforth's lap."

Of course getting up meant sliding on the erection, pulling it wetly from her. With a glare at the old man, Celia walked around the table knowing all five men were watching and enjoying her nakedness.

Mr Staples was sitting smiling up at her but holding his erection firmly upright. There was no way she could sit on his lap without pushing his knob up into herself. She paused.

"Well go on, sit down, Mr Staples is not going to bite. Make yourself comfortable on his lap."

There was nothing Celia could do but obey. Mr Staples was not pushing his penis into her: she found herself lining herself up and she doing the pushing - she was fucking him and not the other way around.

The girls re-seated, a different penis in their vaginas, different hands touching them. The men still talking.

Celia watched Mr Carnforth. His hand was to Natasha's breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples. Celia wanted to do that. Would the girls be left alone in bed that night when, perhaps, Natasha might like her to do that. Would Natasha's fingers play with her own pink nipples?

All at once Mr Carnforth was bouncing Natasha on his lap and crying out. Up to then she had been sitting quite motionless. It was obvious, absolutely clear that he was having an orgasm - his semen no doubt spurting into Natasha. Everyone was looking at him. He was breathing deeply and looking flushed.

"Sorry, sorry Stephen... I, I... it was a bit of cramp in my leg. Caused a bit of a spasm. No, don't get off, Tabitha."

There were smiles from the men.

Celia felt the slightest of movements from Mr Staples. Just the lightest of up and down movements. Imperceptible to the rest but not to her - not to her who had his penis up inside her vagina!

Mr Staples kept on talking whilst just so gently fucking her; he managed to keep talking - almost - when Celia felt a sudden rush inside her. Casual as anything, he had just come as if nothing has happened whilst sitting and talking over coffee. A strange casual, public yet private, intercourse.

And Natasha and Celia were just left to sit on the men's laps as more coffee was poured and the penes shrank inside the girls. The men just talked on and on as if nothing had occurred. No comment was made when the men eventually stood up, almost an hour later, at the cum which had slowly dripped out of the girls decorating their flaccid penes. An hour or so just sitting there on the men's laps, with just the occasional movement of knees from the men: made to sit whilst the men talked.

It was good at last to be able to stand. She looked at the elderly men standing there talking to an evening suited Mr Levinson whilst stark naked as if nothing unusual had happened. Their penes were still semen coated. No attempt had been made to wipe or dry them off. She had rather thought Natasha and she might be asked to suck and lick the wet dangling things until all the ejaculate was gone. But no, that was not requested. Even so, what would happen now?

"More coffee! Perhaps some chocolates? The girls do so love chocolates. They like a nice fondant centre don't you girls? But have you tried salted chocolate? No?"

The minders were bringing in a tray. On it a small pile of round dark chocolates and, unexpectedly, a bowl of undoubtedly warm and liquid chocolate. The delicious aroma was instantly recognisable.

Celia was puzzled. Why the warm chocolate?

She was amazed when casual as anything Mr Carnforth lifted his limp penis and dunked it in the warm, melted chocolate - balls and all.

"These are exquisite," said Mr Levinson picking up one of the round chocolates and looking at it. "Salted chocolate coated plums. Absolutely delicious. " He popped it in his mouth.

Mr Carnforth's penis was dripping melted chocolate onto the floor making a bit of a mess but then Mr Staples did just the same thing. Celia was astounded.

"Now girls, go and sit on your chairs and Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples will bring you a nice salted chocolate plum each."

Perhaps a little slow on the uptake but Celia suddenly realised just what was about to happen. Not for the girls the nice prepared chocolate plums on the tray but the freshly prepared chocolate coated penes. Were the 'plum's the men's plum shaped knobs or their hanging 'plums?' It really did not matter. Natasha and she were going to have to suck the men's penes, their chocolate and salty semen coated 'plums.' There was nothing they could do to prevent it. They might as well enjoy the chocolate!

Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples were looking very pleased as they approached the girls, their chocolate coated penes already lengthening. Their hour's rest talking had revitalised them it seemed.

"Now, girls. pop those nice chocolates right in your mouths so you don't make a mess all around your mouths but don't gobble them down all at once."

There was nothing to do but comply. The men standing ready, the lovely smell of warm, melted chocolate right in front of the girls' noses. Celia's tongue came out and licked. The chocolate was of a very good quality.

"Emily-Sue! Put it in your mouth, now!"

The chocolate was very tasty, the plum of Mr Staples cock big in her mouth and through the sweetness of the chocolate came a faint taste of salt from the semen. Celia sort of had to admit to herself the contrast, salty and sweet, did work!

Celia knew what she had to do. Pleasure the man, enjoy the chocolate and bring about an ejaculation. She could not do anything else. She had to do as she was told. Beside her, pretty Natasha, her lips all around Mr Carnforth's cock, her face already rather messy with the chocolate and her mouth moving.

"Girls do so love their chocolate," commented Mr Levinson, "these chocolate plums are nice but perhaps they prefer a simple hard chocolate bar or chocolate coated nuts. Would you like some chocolate coated nuts girls? I bet you like just sucking the chocolate off and leaving the nut. Archie, Matthew could you oblige. Could you pass the girls some chocolate nuts."

The men were all laughing and having a whale of a time at the comic talk. It was not so for the girls. Both Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples pulled their erections, their rather less chocolaty erections from the girls mouths and held them up against their stomachs giving the girls easy access to their chocolate coated balls - their nuts!

And the girls just had to suck and play with their tongues on and around the two men's scrota, so as to carefully roll their nuts inside their mouths and remove the chocolate coating.

"But what I think these girls most like is a nice chocolate fondant with that special creamy filling."

"Oh do they now? Such greedy little girls," Mr Staples replied.

Celia had known from the start that the salty, creamy filling was coming to both of them, Natasha and she, sooner or later. Ejaculation in their mouths was an inevitability. Once she had established the two old men were really here at the house to play with the girls, not just have dinner, she had known they would want to both enter her and Natasha's mouth as well as their vaginas. They were men after all. Hopefully they would leave their bottoms alone.

The penes were dipped once more - not that easy given their fully erected state - and the glans penes presented once more at the girls' lips. Celia was not surprised to find the men had swopped over. Mr Staples now to enjoy the dark chocolate girl and Mr Carnforth the white.

Once more the sweet chocolate taste in her mouth. Gently but firmly Mr Carnforth's hands closed behind the back of her head. Celia knew it was not going to be her who would be working the erection; Mr Carnforth was going to be doing the moving - he was going to fuck her mouth. Push, push, push against her; his penis in and out of her mouth; the big chocolate tasting head going back and forth between her lips. Really her mouth was being used both as a sex toy and putative receptacle. The chocolate was nice but the thrusting big plum not easy to cope with and then, all of a sudden, not just a hint of salt but the full thing; Celia's mouth suddenly filling with not just the already present warm chocolate but the creamy, hot, salty semen coming out of Mr Carnforth's penis - the creamy filling.

Panting Mr Carnforth slowed his assault on Celia's mouth. Beside her exactly the same thing was happening to Natasha; her lovely dark head held firmly by Mr Staples and his long firm cock sliding at some speed and with some force between Natasha's generous lips. Celia's sideways glance took in the way his balls were swinging and bouncing against Natasha's chin. In happier circumstances what fun she and Natasha could have with a man they liked, a man they wanted to be friendly with; sharing his penis, jointly licking and playing with it whilst being very friendly together - but not like this.

Celia shrugged. Well, that was done and, actually, chocolate and semen went rather well together! She wondered if Natasha thought the same. She swallowed. Mmmm not so bad! She filed the information away as she waited calmly for the penis to be removed, whilst watching her friend.

Mr Staples' scrotum visibly tightened and he thrust a little harder. Celia knew that his semen was being released into Natasha's mouth. How she wished she could now kiss Natasha, share the salty chocolate semen mix between them and be allowed just to go to bed alone and be just two girls together.

The men stepped back from the girls. It was all a bit of a mess - both the men's genitalia and the girls' mouths - but Mr Levinson came forward and popped a chocolate coated plum in each of the girls' mouths.

"There you are. Last one. Girls should not have too much chocolate. Now don't gobble that one down like the last. Now would you two boys like a last couple of chocolates?"

It was not Mr Carnforth, nor Mr Staples he was addressing but the two minders.

"Perhaps rather than chocolate covered plums you would like dipped chocolate cherries?"

Inevitable perhaps but both Celia and Natasha found their nipples being dipped in the still molten chocolate, their little nipples becoming coated in warm brown chocolate and then the minders applying their lips to first one and then the other of their breasts as they stood unresisting. The warm chocolate was consumed; the nipples teased and sucked.

The older men watched. Mr Levinson spoke, "I don't know, Archie and Matthew, but little girls just don't seem unable not to make a mess when eating chocolate. Why don't you boys take the girls down to the sea and you all have a nice splash around and clean yourselves off?"

The men were quick to divest themselves of their clothes and Celia was not surprised to see they were erect. It was to be more fucking no doubt. There was no let up for her and Natasha. Their bodies were being used.

"What fine boys your nephews are growing to be," said Mr Carnforth to the old man, "what fine, upstanding lads - strong and manly almost!"

There were smiles. The men all thought it a big joke. The girls did not.

Natasha and Celia were carried piggy back down to the sea. The further they got from the old man the freer they found their limbs and tongues to be; the less compliant they were, but the minders seemed to revel in their attempt at fight and lack of co-operation. They were thrown into the sea, their bodies washed and groped but their resistance was to no avail. The minders were just so much stronger than they and strong men on the rut were not going to be denied. They seemed to relish Natasha and her struggles against them in the water; loved chasing the girls up the beach and throwing them down on their backs and forcing themselves on and into the girls.

The men had their way with the girls, their thick and strong penes penetrated and worked the girls. Of course insemination occurred and then the girls were once more washed down in the sea by the laughing men before being carried back up the beach.

Mr Carnforth and Mr Staples were just going when the four naked young people came back in.

"Look how wet you are," said Mr Carnforth patting Natasha and Celia's bottoms. He kissed them both. "How lovely it has been to see you both, see how you have grown. You are getting such big girls and how lovely it has been to enjoy your sweet company this evening."

"A real pleasure," said Mr Staples, "you weren't, really too, naughty."

The door closed. "Now girls, a quick bath to wash the salt off and into your pyjamas. It's bed time for you."

It seemed the girls were, at last to be left alone to undertake their ablutions and go to bed.

In their bedroom and on the double bed were pyjamas neatly laid out for them. Two matching sets of cream cotton button-fronted pyjamas. Girls pyjamas with elasticised waists and no flies. Freshly laundered and just their sizes. On the breast pocket pretty little entwined hearts picked out in a dark pink.

It was so nice to be left alone, allowed to get ready for bed by themselves. So nice to sit together in the bath and talk a little; to hold hands and discuss their predicament; lovely to be so close and naked to each other. Celia was looking forward to being in bed with her friend. They could cuddle and whisper together; perhaps despite all the imposed sex of the day they could be a little intimate together; Celia knew she would like that but would Natasha?

Celia leaned in a little closer to Natasha and found Natasha doing the same. Their lips met and Celia knew it was all right - Natasha felt the same. But there was to be nothing more at the moment because as their lips met there was a knock at the door.

"Hurry up girls, time for bed, don't play all night in the bath."

They had to obey.

Dried, dressed in their pyjamas and teeth brushed Celia and Natasha came out of the bathroom. The old man was waiting, leaning on his stick still in his evening suit, though his bow tie was undone. In his hand his own pyjamas - green and white stripes.

"You've been good girls today - mostly! Sleep well but if you hear the slightest noise outside, and I know how easily you are frightened, then you are to come to my bed and we'll all have a cuddle and it will be all right."

It sounded the kindly words of a favourite uncle. Celia knew it was anything but. She could very easily imagine just what would happen if she got into that bed! There was no chance of that happening. Thunder, lightning as close and loud as it gets would not induce her to go to his bed. Much nicer with Natasha!

"Goodnight girls, off to bed." A gentle pat on their pyjama clad bottoms.

It was so nice getting between the sheets with Natasha and turning the light off. They talked a bit holding hands. How it had all happened, the events of the day, how they might escape and the strangeness of it all.

"Will they let us go?"

"I think so but..."

"We could get up in the night and creep away. Not the door but a window."

"Celia, you are very pretty you know."

"Natasha, so are you, I've liked seeing you... seeing you naked."

A hand on her chest, a hand undoing a button and slipping in to hold a breast, Natasha's head coming across the pillow and her lips ever so softly touching Celia's.

Outside there was all of a sudden a tremendous crash.

Natasha and Celia instantly stiffened.

"Wha... what was that?"

"I... I dunno... was it thunder?"

"Oh Natasha, I'm frightened." And she really was. Deep down she knew she should not be, deep down she knew she was being manipulated.

"It's only them, banging a couple of dustbin lids together..." Natasha's voice quavered, "... I think. I... I'm frightened too."

Suddenly the girls were in each other's arms hugging each other tightly. Natasha was really shivering.

"Should we... should we go to his bed?"

"Yes... please. Hold my hand."

Two really frightened girls in cream pyjamas, holding hands and getting out of bed to hurry to the old man's bed. Such a relief to Celia to open the old man's bedroom door and jump into his bed, one on each side of him. They were positively shaking with fear.

Mr Levinson put his arms out and drew them to him, their warm pyjama clad bodies pressed close to him, his hands around their backs stroking and soothing.

"There, there, Tabitha and Emily-Sue, it's OK, it's OK. Just a bit of thunder. Don't worry you are safe with me."

Calming a little, Celia knew she was anything but 'safe.'

Mr Levinson moved and she felt a hand on her top, a hand undoing buttons, a hand gently pulling the material apart. Celia had so hoped Natasha would do that to her in bed, had been so looking forward to each undoing the other's tops and holding and fondling each other's breasts but now it was to be the old man.

"Don't..."

But his hand was on her left breast.

"Oh Emily-Sue you are really frightened I can feel how fast your heart is racing. Let me stroke and soothe you."
Celia could not stop him, could not prevent the fondling hand touching and stroking her breasts, pulling at her nipples and doing all the things men like to do with breasts - indeed she would like to do with Natasha's breasts.

"Oh Tabitha, I'm neglecting you my dear."

Celia could not see in the dark but knew he was undoing her top and bringing out her big breasts and doing the same things he had done to her.

"Do you know what the boys do when they are frightened girls? No? It'll make you laugh, it will! They hold their willies - yes really! I know, I know it is such a shame for girls not to have willies. I know you each wish you had one but, but if you like, you can hold mine. See if it makes you feel better. I expect it will."

Celia almost snorted; what a silly male idea that girls had some sort of penis envy; who would want one of those flopping around day in, day out; a girl's 'arrangement' so much neater. But she was not surprised at all at wanting, really wanting to hold the old man's penis; something had been done to her mind; something which made his suggestion into her desire. She knew; knew she was being manipulated but could do nothing about it. Natasha, she was sure, would feel the same.

"You can hold it first, Emily-Sue."

Celia found her hand, almost of its own accord, making its way towards the old man's pyjama bottoms, felt the bow of the pyjama cord but, rather than undoing it, slipped her hand through the fly and all of once there it was in her hand, soft, warm and, of course, pliable as she knew it would be. It would be very different with the 'minders' but Mr Levinson seemingly could not 'get it up.' Celia held it tightly. It felt so good, so comforting.

"It'll feel even nicer if you move your hand and stroke it. It's what the boys do - a lot."

Celia was quite sure that was true and her hand did what Mr Levinson told it to. He let out a sigh.

"Tabitha, would you like to hold me too? Take it in turn girls. Emily-Sue you hold my balls, you know what they are, it is almost as good whilst Tabitha takes my willy in hand. Gently though, you know how careful you have to be with a boy's balls."

The old man's hands were not still, one was slipping down Celia's stomach and touching the waist band of her pyjamas. A finger slipped under the elastic. Celia wondered how the old man was going to explain that. One finger, two fingers, a whole hand on her mons and a finger feeling for her hairless slit.

"Such a shame for you Tabitha, and you Emily-Sue; no willies. Wouldn't it be nice, in the thunderstorm to hold each other's willies?"

Celia felt her legs being parted as the hand delved deeper within the cotton pyjama bottom.

"But this..."

Celia felt her clit being held gently between a finger and thumb. A gentle touch.

"These, are your little willies - yes really - boys' are just so much bigger but, even so, it feels nice if they are held; doesn't it girls? Really nice!"

And suddenly it did, her clit was on fire, the wetness pouring from her body. Celia gasped as she felt her clit being rolled between the old man's finger and thumb.

"Funny to think you really do have little willies after all!"

Celia knew the old man was enjoying himself, lying there in his bed with two young girls fondling his genitalia and being able to do the same with them: but she had not expected to like the experience herself but now...

"Is that nice girls? Do you feel safer holding my willy? Would you feel safer right down inside my bed, right under the covers? Would you feel best of all if you had something to suck - perhaps, no... perhaps yes. Would you'd like to suck my willie, Tabitha? I expect you would."

There was movement in the bed. Celia knew it was Tabitha doing as she was told. How had this man gained this power, this control over them? She could not understand it or how she was so loving the touch of his fingers or how she had so quickly become 'wet' for him. Much more of his gentle fondling of her clit and she was going to come.

"Emily-Sue, why don't you go down the bed and hide with Tabitha; hide from the nasty thunder and lightning and suck my willie."

It must have been lovely for the old man to just lie back in his bed and feel the two girls down his bed taking it in turns to suck his flaccid penis.

Celia burrowed down the bed, just as she used to when little, but there in the warm darkness was Natasha. They kissed - with tongues - but not for long. Celia's desire to suck was too strong. Such a relief, such a comfort to feel the old man's soft cock in her mouth. Leaving Natasha's mouth she had searched and her lips had found it in the darkness all wet from Natasha's own mouth. Her tongue playing with the slack foreskin, sliding on the smooth skin of the glans and tickling the little hole. She had felt Natasha's hot breath on her cheek, her tongue slipping wetly along before sliding to her mouth to try and take the cock from her. Instinctively she had moved forward taking not just the limp penis but the man's balls and scrotum into her mouth - the whole package - trying to stop Natasha getting any. Celia's desire was to keep it all to herself and just suck until it...

Celia realised this was not herself; not her natural generous nature, nor how she should be with her friend. She relented and released and the girls took it in turns, alternately licking together and then sucking singly. They soon realised if they put their mouths together they could both tongue-play in and out of each other's mouths whilst also enjoying the feel of the lovely soft penis at the same time, their tongues slipping all over it together. It was so soft and pliable without any of the strength and firmness of the two minders' penes or the other old men of the evening. So soft, so seemingly without threat or potency but Celia knew the appearance was deceiving. The old man was enjoying all the sensation and could most certainly 'come' - and would do so.

She knew she was being used; had been used a lot that day but could do nothing but obey the old man - but at least she was close to Natasha, intimate with her.

They kissed again, their tongues mingling. But they could not leave the old man alone for long. Natasha broke the kiss and her lips moved to the penis. It was ever present with them in the warm dark of the bedclothes; soft and wet with their saliva. After a little suck, Natasha passed it to Celia, pushing it with her tongue into her mouth. Natasha had sucked the protective foreskin over the soft knob but with her lips Celia pushed it back, rolling it down the soft head, exposing the sensitive glans and fraenum. She held the knob in her mouth, holding it just below where the floppy shaft began. Celia's tongue tickled away, even trying to burrow into the little slit. There was no warning, no tap on her head or groan that she could hear but, suddenly, it was producing, releasing the old man's semen into Celia's mouth. She sucked and the whole little thing slipped into her mouth, spurting away - spasm after spasm.

Celia turned her head, letting the penis leave her mouth, towards Natasha. Once again a kiss. It seemed so the right thing to do - share the semen with her friend. Natasha's probing tongue found it, the thick, salty reservoir in Celia's mouth. Their tongues going in and out of each other's mouths coated in the stuff, stirring it around and playing with it. They returned to the penis. Unlike other men it was no different pre or post orgasm - just the same limp softness. They both suckled on it again but drew little further product from the little thing.

The girls resurfaced, one either side of the old man. He put his arms around them and cuddled them both.

"There, there, less frightened now? A nice little suck on my willy has made you feel better hasn't it? I thought it would. No, Tabitha, That wasn't me having a little wee. But you were not alarmed. It is something special - special for big girls and aren't you getting big girls!"

"Big girls don't suck on thumbs but willies. Sucking on a willy is comforting, like a thumb but better, and if you are really frightened or really need comforting boys - big boys - can make that special stuff just like I did for you girls. It was nice wasn't it - really nice. It was comforting wasn't it? Who was the lucky girl?"

What nonsense the old man was talking but there was nothing Celia could do but listen and, yes, his semen had been nice - really nice in retrospect. She found herself wishing for more - how odd. She had to answer,

"Me, sir."

"Lucky you Emily-Sue but I expect I can make some more for Tabitha tomorrow if she likes - or needs."

"I shared it, sir, with Nat... Tabitha."

"Did you now! You are a kind, generous girl, Emily-Sue!"

The wave of pleasure that swept over Celia was a surprise. She was even more than happy with the way he patted her bottom as if in approval. His control over her mind was so strong, so surprising, so effective. She felt really happy. Was this what it was all leading to? So in the end she and Natasha would simply not want to leave; would voluntarily choose to be the playthings of this old man and his friends. Were the minders friends or mere servants allowed to take their pleasure with their master's toys when not interfering with his own plans? The thought of the minders brought their big penes to mind. In the dark Celia licked her lips. The old man's suggestions had clearly had their effect - she would really like to suck them both and make them come - mmm yum!

But the old man seemed in no hurry to send them from his bed and of course she knew the minders had only recently come - when they had forcibly taken Natasha and herself down on the sand. Perhaps they would not be able to get their penes 'up' again. Celia pouted in the darkness. She had not at all liked being forced on the beach but now she would not half like a suck! One big penis for her and one for her friend.

"Now time for sleep girls. You've a busy day tomorrow."

'A busy day being fucked, no doubt,' thought Celia.

"You don't want to be ashamed of your bodies or embarrassed or anything. I know young girls get self conscious when their breasts start to grow and they get hair 'down there.' Boys are the same, self conscious about their willies especially when they stick up in the air. But you shouldn't be and the boys shouldn't be. As a special treat I've a lady, a nice lady, coming tomorrow to fit you for your very first brassieres. Won't that be nice! We might also get the net out play volleyball on the beach and have ice creams just like last year. I do hope it's a sunny day but we must remember the sun cream. We don't want you getting burnt! Now off to sleep."