Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
No. 17    Sunday    June 11, 1995  
alt.stories.erotic  alt.sex.stories

D R E A M G I R L S  S T O R I E S
Chambers of Love
Part Seventeen
by Andrew Roller 

Chapter Nine

         Burton approached me warily.  "Miss, I mean madam."
         "Miss will do, I'm only 15," I said impishly.  
         "Would you like to order now?"  
         "Yes, please.  But let Julie go first.  She has a very sore bottom 
and probably cannot sit for long."
         "Yes, uh," Burton backed away, stumbled.  "Ah, yes miss, right so."
         I didn't know how I was going to handle the count after breakfast 
but I'd found I loved teasing him.  I was turning into a little dominatrix 
right before his eyes, before my eyes as well.  From the looks of him I 
was the most difficult domme he'd ever had, in my own unique little 
way.  Julie and I passed the breakfast merrily, chowing down our food.  
The count just poked at his plate, and occasionally shifted 
uncomfortably in his chair.
         "They do make underpants too tight these days, don't they?" I 
remarked mischievously.
         "Yes," he replied, eyeing me.  "Way too tight.  And the shorts too."
***         
         The minute breakfast ended the count rose from the table.  "Now I 
take command," he announced abruptly.
         "Oh, sir, what would you have us do?" I asked coquettishly.
         "Struggle, preferably," he said.  "Accompany me to the parlor.  I 
have some guests waiting there."  This shocked me.  He'd regained the 
upper hand.  What could I do?  
         Meekly Julie and I got up from our places.  Sexily we'd chosen 
stone ground denim hot pants for our hips, and we'd abbreviated these 
with scissors to within an inch of their life.  Below these were only 
our trusty (albeit new) heels, which elevated our bottoms and made 
them more showy than they already were.
         "To the parlor, girls," the count reminded us.  We shuffled out of 
the room, down the hall.  "Pick it up," he commanded us.  "You're not 
going to a funeral!"
         "I am for my bottom," I replied.
         We reached the parlor and he let us inside.  A hush fell over the 
crowd.  They were dressed casually, but expensively.  Ladies put hands 
over their cheeks, surprised but delighted, as they caught sight of our 
naked boobies, so well-formed and firm.  The party would be starting 
early, with exceptional guests of honor.
         The count always has known how to choose them, hasn't he?" one 
lady whispered to another.
         "Now, now," the other whispered back.  "You're not bad yourself."
         "Ladies and gentlemen," the count announced, rising up on a little 
platform formed by the wet bar.  He looked at me.  "And, uh, girls..."  He 
gestured politely.  "I would like to introduce my new companions, 
Kimmy, the younger one, and Julie, a fine young wife on tour here in 
France."  
         I noticed he didn't say "vacation."
         "Uh, will they be entertaining us?" a woman asked in French.  
         "Yes, they are going to take off their pants and mud-wrestle for 
us," the count said.  Julie and I looked at each other in shock.  
         A side door opened and we found ourselves hustled out directly 
into the front yard.  There were only trees and hills in the distance, 
plus the road that ran by his lawn.  I knew an occasional car did come 
along it.  Then my eyes spotted the arena where Julie and I were 
expected to do our "entertaining."  A large pool of mud, dug out 
overnight, awaited us.  
         "Look!" I pointed, nudging Julie.  "That's what those sounds must 
have been that we heard last night!"  In the middle of the night we'd 
thought we'd heard someone digging a grave.  But the sound seemed far 
off, intermittant, and we'd drifted into sleep once more.  
         "Normally we would have this event in the back yard," the count 
said.  "But these young ladies have proven themselves such bold little 
lasses that I decided to hold it out front this year!"  A cheer went up 
from the crowd.
         "Strip, girls," the count commanded us.  "Right down to your 
panties."  I looked at Julie.  She at me.  Hesitantly we fingered the 
snaps on the front of our jeans.  I caught Burton's eye.  He was standing, 
crisp as ever in his tuxedo, watering the pit of mud with a hose.
         I decided to be as graceful as possible.  I unbuttoned the front of 
my shorts and pulled down the zipper.  I slid them over my smooth 
thighs as a gasp went up from the crowd.  I wore red, semi-sheer 
chiffon panties, so small they allowed a few wisps of my pubic hair to 
curl out from under the waistband in front.  Julie proved similarly 
attired.  We'd chosen side-tie panties, with little silk bows tenuously 
holding together the chiffon halves in front and back.  My panties had 
wedged themselves into my butt-crack in back and now I reached behind 
me to pull out the fabric.
         "They're fine as they are, Kimmy," the count admonished me.
         I gulped.  I made to take off my heels.
         "No, no, right into the pit with you," he said.  "You too, Julie."  I 
advanced to the pit.  I looked down.
         "It's not deep," the count assured me.  I stepped down very 
daintily, and sunk into the mud up to my ankles.  It oozed between my 
toes.  Julie stepped in on the opposite side.  I looked at her, she at me.  
My long, golden hair shimmered in elegant curls in the morning sun.  
Spun gold; so delicate, exquisite.  Julie had spent an hour doing it up for 
me this morning.  Her hair was stunning also.  Glittering earrings, too 
formal for girls in tees and hot pants, dangled down on either side of 
our faces.  
         The count cleared his throat.  We looked up at him, pleadingly, 
wearing only our undies, our hair and makeup perfect.  How could he do 
this to us?  
         "Are you ready girls?" the count asked. 
         "May we at least take our heels off?" I begged.  "We might fall 
down."  The count looked away at the distant hills upon hearing my 
ridiculous question.  I noticed then that the floor of the pit was not dirt 
but a special puncture-proof rubber mat, easy to fall on and easy to 
walk on with heels.  Once again the count had proved willing to go to 
extraordinary lengths to accommodate us, however perversely.
         "Ready girls?" he asked again.
         "Okay sir," I said, reluctantly but firmly.  Already I was sizing 
Julie up.  She was bigger than me, and heavier.  How was I going to 
avoid losing to her?  
         "Upon my whistle, then," Burton announced, and gave a lusty blow 
on the count of three.  A cheer went up from the crowd.
         Julie and I approached each other hesitantly.  
         "Girls, there's a sound spanking for the loser," the count called 
out.  "I wouldn't want to lose if I were you, Julie.  Kimmy, you know why 
a girl is spanked, don't you?  To prepare her for a little impalement, 
hmmm?"
         "Such encouragement!" a woman whispered.
         "I've a mind to get in there myself!" another remarked, casting an 
admiring glance at the count.
         Well, I wasn't about to get fucked up the ass by the biggest cock 
in France.  I'd just have to knock Julie down right away and get this 
silly business over with.  Perhaps I could even save my hair.  Fair's fair 
in love and mud-pit wrestling.  
         I lunged suddenly at Julie and toppled her.
         "Hey!" she cried, surprised, her eyes wide.  She caught herself as 
she fell, sullying only one half of her panties and one of her legs up to 
the waist.  
         "I'm sorry," I said, still holding my hands out from pushing her.  
"Just lie down and let's quit."
         "You know my bottom can't take anymore!" she glared up at me.  
Like a lioness she leapt up and attacked me.
         "Julieee!" I cried, desperately trying to keep my balance.  "Don't-" 
I fell backward, splashed right onto my bottom in the mud.  Somehow 
the front triangle of my panties escaped getting dirty.  But my bared 
bottom and the backs of my thighs got coated with ugly, oozing chunks 
of mud.  Julie couldn't help laughing at me, and pointing.  Instead of 
going for the final kill, she just stood there, enjoying her seeming 
victory.  Without getting up I lunged out at her suddenly, caught hold of 
her ankle.  
         "Yipes!" she cried, and her full, womanly body splashed down right 
next to me, splattering us both.
         "Now look what you've done!" I cried out.  Splotches of mud 
speckled my front, my face.
         "Me?!" she retorted.  We both lunged at each other then.  Our hands 
gripped each other by the upper arms and we grappled with one another.  
I couldn't help noticing her (mostly) white boobies jiggling shamelessly 
before me.  Mine put on an equally heedless display.  
         We splashed down into the mud.  Julie grabbed my head and dunked 
me, getting as much of my hair as possible into the icky stuff.  But I 
rose, grabbed at the front of her panties, and pulled them open and 
began bailing handfuls of mud into them.  She grabbed me by the 
breasts, whirled me about, and yanked down the back of my panties, 
leaving them clutching at the underswell of my heinie.  She squished 
mud into my butt crack, even mushing it down with her fingertips to 
force more in.
         "Aack!" I cried, leaping up.  Mud clung to me everywhere.  Still 
some skin showed through, though, I noted gratefully.  Julie would 
certainly pay for this.
         "Using underhanded tactics, eh?" I asked her as she knelt before 
me, still clutching handfuls of mud.  She raised her fists and threw mud 
at me.  Some hit me squarely in the face, bringing howls of laughter 
from the crowd.
         I jumped down on top of Julie.  With strength I didn't even know I 
had I pushed her face down, pressing her nose into the mud.  She pulled 
up just in time, reached up, smeared mud all over my face.  I gazed 
wildly about for Burton and his hose without seeing him.  I wiped one of 
my hands off on my still-white upper breast and then cleaned my face 
with it as best I could.  Julie took advantage of the lull to reach up 
from where she knelt and yank down my panties.  
I gasped.  The crowd gasped.  My blonde muff shown amidst what was 
practically the last patch of white space on my skin.  Julie reached up 
to smear mud all over my lovely blonde bush but I caught her wrist and 
twisted it behind her.
         "Owwch!" Julie whined as, stumbling, my panties round my knees, 
I completed the maneuver.  I forced Julie face first right into the mud.  
I smeared the back of her head with my free hand, getting it all over 
her hair.  She bucked wildly with her legs.  I was wary of the heels.  
Suddenly in her thrashing I lost my balance.  I teetered for a moment on 
my stiletto pumps, then went crashing down.  Mud flew everywhere.  
         Glistening with mud I rose up, like some Swamp Thing, and we 
engaged each other anew.  We writhed across the pool, rolling now, 
blatantly displaying our most intimate parts, which were soon fully 
bronzed with the gook.  My hips fell between Julie's open legs and I 
began humping her.  Maybe, I reasoned, I could distract her through her 
pussy.  I absolutely must not lose!  
         Unfortunately, it was she who had been thoroughly fucked last 
night, and I began quickly to come on to orgasm.  Suddenly I wanted her, 
needed her, woman or no.  
         Julie, the more gentle of us, saw this as a way to negate the 
conflict.  There would be no winner, no loser.  The count would be 
defeated by the wilyness of the female spirit.  The ladies spotted this 
right away and quietly applauded us.  The men, looking on in 
wonderment, applauded also, but for an entirely different reason.  The 
count remained in the dark, not divining yet our true purpose.  Nor did 
Burton.
         Softly Julie licked the mud from my lips.  We kissed.  She briefly 
let go of me in our amorous embrace and pulled her panties down to her 
knees, as far as she could reach.  This closed her legs together beneath 
me so I reached down and helped her, finally managing to loose one of 
the mud-clogged drawstrings.  I helped her out of her undies 
completely, yanking at them till we got them off, still however lying 
atop her all the while.  She let her legs fall open, wide, as if to give 
birth.  For the moment, my panties did not matter, and they clung 
precariously to my knees as I ground my pussy upon hers.
         Julie sighed and reached down with both hands and grasped the 
swell of my bottom.  She urged me to buckle my back inward, press my 
pussy harder to hers.  She reached down over my bottom and began 
fingering my anus.  I flinched, gasped, did not want her there!  Then she 
slipped a hand around to my front and got right at my clitoris.  I 
moaned, responded by finding her own spot with my hand and rubbed her 
tiny bulb.  Like a dove she cooed, sighed.
         "So lovely," a woman remarked.
         "Marvelously spontaneous," another said admiringly.
         "Damn best show of tits and clits I've ever seen, eh Pierre?" a 
man asked.
         We groped in the mud, alternately stimulating each other's 
nipples, each other's clits.  Julie kissed my budded nipples.  I gorged 
upon hers.  "Give me milk to wash the mud off," I pleaded of her bosoms.  
Julie laughed, caressed me.  "I will always be your first baby," I told 
her.
         "I know, I know," she replied tenderly.  Half the men were by now 
rubbing themselves in concert with us.  The count caught onto our plot 
then.
         "Now ladies, ladies, we must have a WINNER here!" Burton said, 
advancing to the edge of the pool.  "Ladies, continue FIGHTING please," 
Burton pleaded.  We looked up at him.  The crowd murmured.  Suddenly 
we leapt to our knees and grabbed him by his fine new tuxedo.  Our twin 
mud-covered bottoms gleamed brightly as we knelt, bathed in the 
morning sun.
         "C'mon in, Burton, the mud's just fine!" we cried gaily.  He 
tottered forward, resisted, then lost his balance. 
         SPLOOSH!  Burton fell in amongst us.  There was such a splash 
that mud spattered the crowd.  
         We laughingly attacked poor Burton like a pair of bacchanals.  
Twin tigresses, we showed no mercy.  We ripped open his tux and 
yanked down his trousers.  I got my hands on his dick and to his utter 
amazement he found himself hard, absolutely hard, within seconds.
         "Fuck me Burton, fuck me if you dare," I called, and rubbed his 
hapless dick.  He shuddered.  A moment later he spurted a creamy 
fountain up between my grasping hands.  The crowd whooped and 
applauded.
         "I say, I say!" Burton cried, not knowing whether to be happy or 
humiliated.
         "Thatta boy Burton," Julie cried in a rare show of crudity.  I wiped 
him clean with mud, bronzing his cock just as he had caused us to be 
bronzed.
         "Don't stick mud in the tip!" Burton yelped.  I apologized and 
sucked his cockhead for him, then re-dunked it in the mud and let it go.
         Burton struggled up out of the pool and Julie and I scrambled out 
behind him.  "Fetch us the hose, Burton!" we called merrily.  Stumbling, 
he brought it to us and began boldly spraying us.  Dancing, stretching 
our arms to the sky, we displayed ourselves to the spritzing water.  I 
stepped out of my ruined panties.  An orgasm still broiled within me.  
Julie felt lusty also.  We romped on the grass, pushing each other down, 
kissing, getting up again.  The crowd stood amazed.
         Finally I fetched the hose from Burton and began chasing Julie 
around the yard with it.  She ran, bottom waggling, her big boobs 
flapping.  I closed in and aimed the spray right up her ass.  Julie 
screamed as I gave her an instant enema, careful not to overdo it.  Shit 
flooded out her bottomhole and coated the backs of her thighs.  I 
decided to clean myself with the hose then, leaving her a mess.  
         Julie spun about and ran after me faster than I'd ever seen her 
before.  Finally she caught hold of the hose and began reeling me in.  I 
sprayed her in the face but it was no use.  She was winning this new 
tug-of-war, being the stronger between us.  I stumbled into her and she 
pressed the hose right against my clit.  I gasped, I reeled under the 
stimulation of the spray.  I clasped my thighs with my hands and felt 
myself teeter on the brink of orgasm.
         "Silly girl," Julie said, and pulled away the hose.  Desperately I 
fell face first onto the lawn and began squirming about like some 
octopus.  My hands shot to my pussy and I began rubbing it furiously, a 
woman gone mad.  Laughingly Julie sprayed my backside.  I rolled over, 
thrust my hips up at her.  She sprayed me generally and then 
concentrated on my twat.  Alternately I let in the water and then set 
about masturbating myself again with my hands.  The crowd drew 
around us.  They began undressing.  I heaved with my first orgasm, 
bucking my hips up.  I strained my pussy into the air, putting all my 
weight on my shoulders and heels.  An arc of lovely wanton female 
flesh upon the grass.
         A man knocked Julie to her knees and brusquely prised apart her 
bottom cheeks.  His pants were already down, coiled with his 
underpants about his thick calves.  "Kimmee, help me!"  Julie cried.

D R E A M G I R L S  N E W S

HOW SENATOR EXON GOT HIS NAME
by the intrepid holy joe

         Senator ExonÕs great-grandfather was very turned on by pornography.  
These were the days when the local smith was named Mr. Smith, the local 
purveyor of rolled parchment was named Mr. Roller, etc.  So ExonÕs great 
grandfather, who was Òturned onÓ by X-rated material, got named ÒX-On.Ó  
This of course quickly became ÒXon.Ó  Later the family got respectable and 
added an ÒeÓ:  ÒExon.Ó  
         (Just thought IÕd remind you, senator, in case youÕd forgotten.)

GUERRILLA JOE addressed us today at our editorial meeting, regarding the 
bill by Senator Exon.  ÒThey cannot ban the authors of a.s.s.!Ó he declared.  
ÒDo they think we cannot imitate the tactics of Odonnelsux?  We will post 
our stories through anon servers, and we will plaster them all over the 
goddamn internet!  We will post from the workplace, from the college, 
from the (proposed) ÒpublicÓ servers at the post office; we will post from 
the beaches, we will post from the landing grounds, we will post from the 
fields and from the streets, we will post from the hills, and we will never 
surrender!Ó
         He said it would be like Operation Rescue, only more annoying.  He 
added that he was speaking only for himself.

THE TRUTH REVEALED!
by holy joe

         Once upon a time, the human race was perfect.  The men never 
touched, brushed, or impeded the females in any way.  They never made any 
graphic verbal comments about a femaleÕs body, and the females refrained 
from passing suggestive notes to the men.
         There was no visual abuse.  They men always lowered their eyes, 
never looking at the females.  And the females never looked at the males.  
No sexually suggestive cartoons or posters were ever made or displayed.
         Unwanted sexual advances were forbidden, as was the continued 
expression of sexual interest, after the party in interest had been 
informed that his/her interest was unwelcome.
         Jokes were absolutely forbidden!
         And, most of all, there was to be no threat of reprisal to anyone for 
reporting an incident of sexual harassment.
         Unfortunately, in this perfect society, there was one pervert.  He 
actually liked sex.  His name was Adam.  One day he managed to seduce a 
female.  Her name was Eve.  Or maybe she seduced him.  In any event, they 
both liked sex so much that they had a Lot of children.  (Alas, there was no 
birth control back then.)  Yes, they had many children.  Cain and Abel and 
Noah and Abram, and many more.  All of their children were lusty, and 
loved sex.
         A question to the feminists:  WHICH GROUP do you think you are 
descended from?  (Not ideologically descended, of course, but PHYSICALLY 
descended from?) 

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