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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
CHAMBERS OF LOVE
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Chapter Eleven
Julie and I lay side by side on the same big, white fluffy towel,
draped over a pair of wooden benches set right next to one another. We
were in a kind of locker room just off the dungeon. We cooed at one
another, relieved. We kissed. The spirit of sensuality was still upon
us. Elle and Erica spoke softly, lovingly to us as they rubbed salves and
creams into our toasted rump-flesh. They said they were ever so sorry
for caning us, but must obey the count in all things. We did not ask why
they must. Perhaps only because they wished to. Afterward we were
bathed, then anointed anew with oils and unguents on our burning
globes, which now were suffused with a kind of soft, spreading glow.
This was much more pleasant than the sharp stinging sensations of the
cane, yet we'd never have felt it without the assistance of the cane. I
shuddered. S & M was strange.
Later, sitting gingerly in chairs before makeup mirrors, we had
full facials courtesy of Elle and Erica. They applied our final makeup
sparingly, though, knowing we needed very little. Our hair was done up
to perfection, including the curls of our pubic hair. Shod once more in
heels, we were presented again to master.
The count asked us if we'd eaten. We said we had not. He
suggested we should if we were to keep our energy up. Holding hands,
we walked with him to a sideboard. Elle and Erica joined us, as did the
young man and older man who'd observed us make water. The younger
was Tom, the older Billy. By now the count and his male guests had
taken off all their clothes, though Tom and Billy had towels draped over
their shoulders from the shower. Elle and Erica remained garbed in
their miniscule, sexily revealing outfits.
I felt amazingly liberated as I lolled nude on a couch with Julie.
Mandy was not present, having been sent away, the count said, for being
a particularly naughty girl. Bananas and apples and tossed shrimp
salads with dip were passed around, each taking as we pleased. There
were cold meats and chilled wine. Julie and I, partly to entertain the
men, took to feeding one another. I cared not about the placement of my
legs or the bareness of my tits and let them see all. Julie was equally
free with her charms. The conversation touched on French politics and
culture, morality and societal norms, always hovering just over and
sometimes dipping delightfully into the subject of sex. It was my first
real adult orgy-type soiree and I loved it.
Finally we were all gorged. I felt frisky. I plucked at Julie's
nipples with my fingers. She laughed, batted my hands away, pinched at
mine.
"I think the young ladies have something up their sleeve," Billy
remarked, a hopeful note in his voice. His prick was growing more
tumescent with every passing minute. Tom was already rock hard. He'd
displayed a fine erection through most of the meal.
"They have no sleeves," Erica countered, a bit jealous perhaps of
our alluring gait.
"Come girls, the night is yet young," the count beckoned us. We'd
been re-collared in the locker room by Elle and Erica. We dared not
disobey. We rose, collars glittering, bowed our heads. We held hands
and stepped across to him, hips swaying bewitchingly. With our hind
ends still hot from prior punishments, we let him lead us into new
wonderments of the flesh.
"Come along, gentlemen," the count called to Tom and Billy.
"Other spectacles await." Elle and Erica needed no invitation to follow.
We trailed through the dungeon, past ominous works of torture
that towered toward the ceiling, the secrets of their torment still
happily hidden from me. I looked with greater interest now at the
various contraptions, knowing that they would all be used eventually on
my poor little body. I shivered uncontrollably.
We stopped in front of a pair of manacles dangling from the
ceiling. Two pairs, actually. No; four, eight. Two pairs of four
manacles each. I could not guess what they were for. A modest pit of
coals sat on the floor beneath each.
Curiously, the count gave each of us a riddle as we stood
attentively before him. Julie and I, that is. The others were not
included. He said we must solve the riddle and "confess" the answer.
Chills ran down our spines at the way he phrased it. Then he turned to
Elle and Erica and told them to take off their bikini panties. Why he did
this I do not know. Reluctantly they complied, shimmying the last
shred of modesty down their legs and off their feet. Then the reason
became apparent. He said we would need gags for this adventure. For
the moment he pocketed the slinky briefs. Julie and I exchanged
nervous glances.
The count told Julie and I to each stand behind a pit of coals. We
were to walk barefoot on them, I wondered? I would discover that a
more intimate part of my body was to be exposed to the hot coals. They
were unlit for now. Julie and I were ordered to stand on tippie-toe, and
to raise our arms above our heads. This threw my breasts into jutting
relief, as it did Julie's. The first pair of manacles was pulled down by
Elle and Erica, reaching high to grasp them, displaying their luscious
little nests as they did, thighs easily splayed as they concentrated on
their task. My upstretched wrists were bound within the confines of
the manacles, which were then linked together so I could not pull my
arms apart. My arms stretched up behind my head, making my stiff-
nippled breasts stick out more obscenely than ever.
"We'll have to do something about those nipples," Erica remarked.
"Yes," Elle replied. For the first time I noticed she had a Swedish
accent. The meal had obviously revived me, though I'd drunk too much
wine and knew it would set in soon. I was almost glad for it. It looked
like I would definitely need it.
Julie was strung up next. She whimpered that she did not want to
be but they ignored her. She was more frightened than I. Her nerve
must have broken. She was not the vixen of the dungeon she had made
herself out to be at Dan's. Not by a long shot. They fixed her as I, with
her breasts sticking out like big mounds of jiggly vanilla ice cream,
topped with succulent cherries, the stems up. The panties were stuffed
into our mouths then, to silence our protests. They were bound in place
with ribbons tied about the backs of our necks. Elle helpfully checked
that each of us was still able to breathe through our nose.
We were hoisted aloft then, an utterly new experience for me, and
Julie too. I screamed through my gag. My legs, dangling now, twirled
about helplessly. Suspended, I wriggled like a fish on the end of a line.
Fearfully I watched as the pits of coals were lit beneath us. What
could the count possibly have planned for us? This looked like a
sacrifice ritual to me, the prelude to a snuff film! Indeed, Tom was
given a small VHS camera by Erica and began filming our struggles.
Using a little stepstool, Elle came to me then with a gift. When
she'd unwrapped it I saw that the small box contained a pair of brand
new nipple clamps.
"Noooo!" I shouted desperately through my gag. I'd never worn
anything like that before! Gently she sucked each of my nipples to its
full extension. Then, telling me not to worry, these were only "junior
clamps, training clamps," she closed each one in turn over my erected
teats.
"Ahhhhgh!" I cried, eyes popping, as I felt the steel close about my
tender nipples. Fortunately, the clips were thoughtfully lined with fur,
yet the pressure was painful, located most precisely right at the base
of my nipples, as if wanting to slice them off with its scissor-like
jaws. Elle laughed and gave each clip a flip of her finger, setting it to
bobbling at the end of my tit. I stared, horrified, half expecting them
to drop off, with my nipples still inside them.
Julie too was feeling the bite of clamps, and I looked over at her
and tried to console her with my compassionate gaze. She writhed ever
more desperately at the end of her ropes. She was frightened to death,
and heavier than I as well, bearing the flesh of full womanhood. Then,
just in time, the other half of the count's plan was executed.
The other set of manacles was brought low and made fast around
my ankles. Julie suffered the same fate. Then my ankles were drawn
up, up, until I was hanging bottom-downwards over the coals. My legs
were drawn wide to display my cunt to the audience. I swung there, a
human swing. Julie, hung similarly, let a fart. Now we knew why we'd
been urged to eat an abundance of beans at dinner.
"Girls, have you the answers to my riddles yet?" the count
inquired politely of us from below. "You'll be wanting to confess soon."
I watched in terror as the pits beneath us were stoked. Their flames
rose higher, licking upwards toward my offered bottom. Julie screamed
at the terrible flames. Had a spark risen in the smoke draft and
scorched her heiney? I could not tell, she wriggled exceedingly in any
case.
After much mirth below, and avid filming, the count proffered an
offer of clues. However, adding that there was no free lunch in the
world, he said we would each be strapped afterward if we accepted,
more straps added for each clue we took. At first we refused, but the
pits were fueled anew and I felt my hiney growing hotter.
It took a bushel of clues but Julie and I each finally guessed the
answer to our riddle. Unable to speak, we had to spell out our answers,
nodding at a selection of letters as Erica pointed to each in turn. Water
was then dashed on the coals beneath us and we were lowered, but not
taken out of the imprisoning ropes. We still hung with our wrists and
ankles aloft, our bottoms hanging down like offerings in a butcher shop.
A stool was thoughtfully placed beneath each of our hanging tushies for
support. Then the count produced a broad leather strap and said the
undersides of our rich, creamy, thighs must pay for the clues we used.
No! Not my legs! I implored him with my eyes. Weal-like marks on my
bottom I could cover with panties or bikini briefs, but not marks on my
legs! Nevertheless, he uncoiled his strap, lashing it testingly into the
air. I looked at Julie but she was lost in fright. Tom was employed to
do me, and with a brand new leather belt he took up his position
eagerly, his cock still hard and waggling, though he'd stroked it while I
was roasting over the fire. The count went to Julie. Ominously, out of
the corner of my eye I saw Elle and Erica happily at work greasing up an
assortment of dildoes. What was it Elle had said about testing my size,
to see how much I could take? I would have shuddered, but I was
shuddering uncontrollably already.
THWACK! The first stroke seared across my upturned thighs. Tom
grinned, called "Sorry!" as I gasped for breath. Then I screamed. Again
he hit me, a broad ponderous slash that left a bright red mark in its
wake, which I could see in a mirror just beyond him. How courteous of
them to provide me with a view of my defilement. Julie, too, was being
striped now with a broad, merciless belt. I don't know if she was
aware that she could see herself in the mirror. I felt a fart coming on
and forced it out with all my might at Tom. My butt was at the height
of his head and he must have smelt it, for he leaned forward and
delicately sniffed my proffered bottom.
"Ah, an extra stroke for that," he said to my undying dismay. I
clamped down when the next fart came on but it was no use. Out it
pooted, loud and clear. Yet another stroke was added to my tally.
"You didn't have to eat the beans, you know, we only encouraged you to.
They're good for your health. Lots of fiber," Tom grinned. Elle and Erica
burst out laughing, kept on greasing.
When my thighs were fully aflame Tom dropped the belt and sat
down, tired from his exertions. The count did the same. It was then
that Elle and Erica were to have a turn, but in a different place.
I knew now the true reason for the gag as Elle explained the
purpose of the little dog whip she held. I was to be whipped upon my
cunt for throwing the mud match this morning. Julie fainted at being
told this, and we had to wait while Elle revived her with smelling
salts. Then, mercilessly, the girls assumed their positions.
WHISK! Went the thin little whip, almost soundlessly, and I
lurched as never before in my bonds. Julie's stool fell over. They did
not bother to right it.
WHISK! WHISK! WHISK! My cunt lips stuck out like an offered fig
between my wide-open legs. I never dreamed a woman could be
tormented this way! The blows rained like streaks of fire, lightning
without the thunder. I could do nothing but jerk and flinch at each red-
hot strike. Tears ran down my eyes and I heard Julie bawling like a
baby. Her cries were muffled by her gag. I trembled for my clitty, so
stiff and hard, as yet untouched. It strained forth in its smallness as if
to receive some reward. I could not calm myself. A desire to be fucked
coursed remorselessly through me, fueling my clit, my bud. The dildoes
waited, gleaming.
It felt like my poor pussy was being sliced to ribbons!
Noiselessly the little whip fell again and again, often making a sound
only when it struck. Silent torture, save for our weeping. Finally,
unexpectedly, the thing hit my clitty. I yowled frightfully, my bottom
doing the jig atop my stool. Julie too must have gotten a zinger there,
for she squawked like some bat from hell. It was over though then, and
we were left sweating in our bonds, crying real tears, hurting and
humiliated beyond belief.
Next in store for us was a further defilement, but with a unique
twist. My stool was kicked away and I hung suspended bottom-down as
before. Elle approached me, but with end of a dildo held between her
teeth. The cockhead of the thing still extended towards me, however.
Behind me Erica approached with a more slender dildo clamped within
her jaw. Meanwhile, Julie's stool was put up and she was allowed to
rest upon it as she hung, sniffling, and watched me about to be
plundered fore and aft.
Elle and Erica began probing assaults on my poor pussy and hiney.
Their hands were bound behind their backs now, courtesy of Tom. Their
tits hung free. Large cow's udders they appeared to me, full of milk.
My bottom rotated slowly, uncertainly, as I dangled there in the air. I
was shivering without relief, scared out of my wits.
Erica, after several unsuccessful attempts by both females to
impale me, took a new tack. She calculated the motions of my swings
just right and waited, as it were, for me to come to her. She stood
poised in a certain spot, cock sticking lewdly from her mouth. Suddenly
I stuck myself right upon it! Everyone laughed as I gasped at the dildo
spearing my anus. She waited a moment, enjoying the sight herself,
then gave a quick shove and was up me some four inches. Perhaps all
the night's exertions had relaxed me, opened me back there. Perhaps all
the farting had. I jolted upright (to the extent I could) as Elle
successfully impaled my pussy. Both girls rammed their cocks up me
then, and in a matter of moments I was fully pierced at both ends. Then
the most decadent part of all began. With their mouths they began to
push and pull the dildoes in and out in earnest, never quite leaving the
confines of my channels, however. They sawed away at me
relentlessly, as if to make some point about Elle's diagnosis of my
tightness. Once Erica's tool popped out and she had to go to some
trouble getting it reinserted, using only her mouth. Then, as if to make
up for lost time, she fucked me faster.
To my horror I felt an orgasm building. I just couldn't be turned
into a hanging piece of orgasming cheesecake. No! No! I whimpered at
my violators. Please, please desist. And then it happened. I was
wracked as never before by an explosive climax, which breached over
into additional fiery climaxes. I shook and seemed to spew cunt juice
as I lost myself in wracking ecstatic throes at the ends of my ropes. I
put on such a carnal spectacle that they forgot all about trying other
dildoes on me to see how much I could take. When I was done, sniveling
and limp, they tenderly took me down and laid me on a nearby wooden
bench, then put a blanket over me for warmth and a mound of blankets
underneath lest I fall off.
The doctor checked Julie before they started on her, for she
seemed listless and unresponsive. Some smelling salts and a few
smacks on the behind brought her around enough for them to begin,
however. Elle and Erica, somewhat experienced now, speared her big
bottom and luring pussy quickly. They sluiced in and out relentlessly
until she began to respond with a series of keening moans. Finally the
damn burst and she shouted over her gag as an orgasm hit her. They
went for another, then quit. They hauled her aching body down and laid
her out like me.
A four-poster bed had been waiting all the while in a corner
nearby. The group, absent Julie and I, took to the bed now, wriggling in
amongst each other and pulling up the covers for a bit of randy
snuggling foreplay. Soon they were whooping and hollering as they
ditched the covers and used the bed as a platform on which to hold a
fuck fest. As I watched, it seemed everyone got something up an
orifice, even the men. Tom proved to have the ablest member, and he
went at each of them in the end in a sort of perverted game of king of
the hill. I fell asleep then, dreaming of one day tasting his cock myself.
Julie and I were awakened not too much later. With burning
pussies and sore bottoms we were escorted on none too steady feet
from the dungeon. A ravished Elle and Erica helped us, as did an
exhausted count, Tom, and Billy. Burton observed us emerge from the
dungeon. It was morning already, and he was dusting the objects of art
in the great hall. Barely awake we were taken upstairs and tucked into
our bed. Weepily we rolled into each other's arms for comfort as they
finally closed the door behind us. We slept all day, lost in a blissful
oblivion.
30
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