Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
No. 21 Thursday June 15, 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 Twenty-One
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Eleven
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.
Chapter Twelve
We were allowed to spend several languorous days healing. True
to his word, we were treated like princesses. The count's staff
answered our every beck and call, however frivolous. There seemed no
end to what we could ask for, provided we didn't ask to leave the
castle. The count was mostly gone during this time. He said he had
important business to attend to.
One evening after dinner Burton laid out some teensy red bikinis
for us and told us to put them on for the count. We did so, expecting the
count would take us swimming. The suits had little nothing bras that,
when tied, clung desperately to our titties. My nipples were erect just
looking at myself in such an abbreviated outfit and the little bra
accommodatingly let them stand out in sharp relief. Julie laughed and
rested her finger on one and then pushed it in like a button.
"I think I've pushed the hot button," she laughed.
"No, that's down there," I said, pointing between my legs, but I
didn't let her touch me there. Her nipples were poking into her flimsy
bra cups too and we exclaimed at the count's capacity for naughtiness.
The bikini briefs had to be tied along the sides. Only a thread-
like string (once tied) connected the front and back panels. I tried to
yank my suit up high enough to cover my butt crack completely but I
couldn't. In front, stray pussy hairs wisped out the top of my panties,
riding low on my hips. When I walked, the too-small swim pants
quickly wedged in my ass crack. I straightened the panties as best I
could. Julie suffered the same difficulties.
We were astonished, then, when Burton re-entered the room with
new boots for both of us. We were to wear these too. I began to get the
sinking feeling we weren't being taken swimming. Burton helped us
into the boots, which fit snugly all the way up to above our knees. They
matched the color of our swimsuits and were brightly polished, with
high heels in back. A bit later he returned, unlocked our collars, and
took them off. Then he tied a slim red ribbon around each of our necks.
"Burton," I asked, "What's going on?" I stood there with my hands
on my hips like some goddess out of Diamonds are Forever.
"Wouldn't know, ma'am, I just do as I'm told," he said. I dropped
my arms beside me in exasperation and plopped on the bed, feeling my
panties shoot up my ass crack for the zillionth time. Burton scuttled
out.
Master arrived and said we were in for a treat. He hustled us into
his carriage and we spent the next twenty minutes jostling out of our
tiny bras as the horses sped us along. Finally we pulled up before a
greathouse and were taken inside. A small gathering of men and
women, all in their 40's, greeted us in a parlor. To our intense
embarrassment Julie and I found that we were the only ones there in
bikinis. The rest, introduced to us as French men and women of very
high rank and station, mingled about in formal wear. No one spoke
English, though we were spoken to and aperitifs were placed merrily in
our hands. Waiters, oblivious to our near-nudity, courteously offered
their carefully balanced silver snack trays to us. We hadn't had dinner
yet and so helped ourselves to what they offered, which proved
delicious. We hoped that the count was merely bringing us along to
show us off to his friends, nothing more.
Soon the party was called downstairs, and we found ourselves in
a newly constructed dungeon. The appliances within cast moving
shadows on the stone walls, lit by flickering torchlight. I began to
worry then, as did Julie. Our pert bottoms hanging out of our panties,
our teensy bras just barely containing our boobs, we traipsed about and
listened attentively as the host described all the various machines,
some of which he'd modelled specifically on the count's.
When the tour finally concluded the host asked if there might be
any volunteers to try out his new equipment. The count tapped Julie
and I each lightly on the bottom. I trembled. Julie turned her head.
"Please, monsieur, no," she said plaintively. He ordered her forward,
and me. With twitching heinies and wobbling tits we reluctantly
stepped up to our host.
He introduced himself to us only as "Pierre." He was darkly
handsome, with wide shoulders. He said we looked delightful and
reminded him of the girls on the beach who used to cheer him on when
he was a professional swimmer. He ran his fingers through our hair and
commented on how perfect it was. He said we didn't need any make-up,
but what we'd put on was just right. He gazed admiringly at our long,
polished fingernails.
Pierre said he'd like to make a special gift to us of high heels, and
would we take our boots off to accept them? A bench was nearby and
so we sat down and he eased off our tight boots for us. I told him we'd
gladly accept any gifts of clothing he might offer. He laughed, several
women tittered.
Shod in new, precisely fitting heels, we stood once more and
walked in them to get their feel. They had very long spikes in back. I
teetered on mine at first, as did Julie. Gallantly he took our arms and
walked us back and forth in them. I was quite conscious of my hips
swinging alluringly in my itsy-bitsy bikini, and blushed about it. He
asked what was wrong and I said nothing was wrong, the heels were
beautiful.
Having gained a relative degree of composure in our new heels, he
then asked us if we might accompany him as his special guests as he
pointed out a few more machines. We said we would, knowing no other
response that would be acceptable in a locked dungeon. The crowd
trailed behind as we walked. Then, to my surprise, the tour concluded
and we all went back upstairs. A small dinner was served in the dining
room, and we ate with everyone else. Then there was dancing, and Julie
and I enjoyed a dance with every man there. We were quite popular.
Finally the count announced that it was our bedtime and took us back to
his castle.
"Did you enjoy your evening?" he asked in the coach.
"Yes!" we gushed. "It was delightful."
"I thought you deserved a night out," he said. "If only for a few
hours."
He said he had lied about it being our bedtime. He knew we
usually slept at least until noon, and were still quite awake, even now.
We shared a round of drinks in his bedroom and then he said it was time
again to go play the night away in the dungeon. I looked at Julie, and
she at me.
Downstairs the doorbell rang and Burton let in Elle and Erica.
They were bright and cheery and full of warmth. They came upstairs to
the bedroom, Elle in her nurse's uniform but with a skirt round her
waist. Erica sported a casual blouse, open jacket with no sleeves, and
knee-length dress. They complimented us on our taste in swimwear.
Elle gave us a quick physical, but said she did not need to check our
pussies or hindquarters again.
"Did you bring the smelling salts?" the count asked.
"Don't I always?" Elle replied.
"We shall need them quite a lot tonight," he said. "Perhaps even
for you." Elle looked away, said nothing, seemingly dismissing it as a
joke.
***
As Julie and I were led downstairs I wondered if we were doing
the right thing. Before we had not known for sure what we were
getting ourselves into. It had been like at the great house, where in the
end the dungeon had not been part of the festivities. (Though,
reflecting again, I realized that at this very moment they were
probably using it.) Julie and I had no excuse for the suffering we got
ourselves into tonight. It was perfectly obvious that we were going to
be told to shed our bikinis and "assume the position," as it were. I
wondered if Tom would be there.
The count shut the wooden door of the dungeon behind us.
Trembling, Julie and I gazed at one another. Should we go through with
this? Could we bear to? Was there any way at all to get out of it?
Asking the count for a reprieve would probably only add to our trials.
"Well girls, let's get those cute things off," Elle stepped forward
and said. She unzipped her skirt in back and it fell to her ankles. Erica
began disrobing. To my surprise, the count also.
"Mayn't we keep on just our panties?" I asked pleadingly. Elle
looked at the count.
"All right, I suppose, for a little while," he said. "If you can." I
puzzled at his last statement, but reached back and undid my bra even
as Julie released hers. Our tits popped out quivering, stiff nippled,
obviously ready for attention even if we weren't.
Elle had me unbutton her blouse as before. I softly cupped her
breasts one by one and sucked the nipples hard. When I drew my mouth
away, my tongue extended, a string of saliva remained connected
between me and one of her teats. Finally it broke. She and I couldn't
help giggling. Erica asked Julie to help her undress and together they
stripped her down to her panties.
Despite my apprehension, the atmosphere was more casual
tonight. We were a bit like old friends, fellow travelers on some now-
familiar road. The count sent a chill down my spine, however, when he
ordered us to partake of another round of drinks at the dungeon's wet
bar.
"But I don't want to drink any more," I whined.
"Ah, that's what I like! An eager beaver who wants to get right on
with it," he exclaimed.
Elle advised I accept the liquor. "For you, dear, its anesthesia,"
she said, and set me all a-tremble. Julie was looking fearful too.
Trying not to, we sashayed in our bikini bottoms along with the other
women over to the wet bar. The count, handsomely naked save for
slippers, led the way. His cock was delightfully hard.
The count poured a round of drinks and told us to turn them
bottoms-up. We did, and I spilled mine down my front. The booze stung
my uprisen nipples. The others laughed, even Julie. The count said we
must share and share alike, Julie and I. Elle clipped Julie's wrists
tightly behind her. Julie's breasts jutted out in all their glory, nipples
risen and hard. Delicately the count then poured whisky over her teats,
and she smiled in astonishment and gasped, feeling the light sting of
the alcohol uncomplainingly. Then the count drew open the front of her
bikini panties and poured a stream of liquor right into them. They were
so tight they filled right up and overflowed out the top. Then he
released the panties and they snapped shut, the liquor running down
Julie's soft thighs. The count turned her around then, Elle releasing her
wrists.
The rear of Julie's panties was wedged in her ass crack. The
count scolded Julie and told her to fix her panties. Carefully she drew
them out of her ass and spread them with her palms smoothly across
her bottom. She knew it was only for play, that a few steps would get
the panties stuck right back in her crack.
"Perhaps this might act as a kind of glue," the count offered, and
pulled open the back of her panties and filled the space between them
and her deliciously white quivering globes with booze. Then he snapped
them shut, to a delighted "ouch!" from Julie. My panties were then
accorded the same treatment.
With wet panties and expecting even worse things for our hineys,
we followed the count deeper into the ominous recesses of the dungeon.
The liquor did not work as glue and so Julie and I found ourselves
constantly fixing our panties, for the count had scolded her about it.
With mincing steps we approached a rack of spanking implements,
where the count had paused. He said Julie and I were brave little girls
and deserved a reprieve. To their astonishment he ordered Elle and
Erica over some nearby trestles. I heard a door creak in the background.
The girls would not comply and stood arguing with the count. Then Tom
appeared, grinning from ear to ear and naked as a jaybird. His cock was
breathtakingly hard, bobbing freely as he strode in amongst us.
"Thank you for coming, Tom, help me get these girls over the
trestles," the count said.
D R E A M G I R L S L E T T E R S
root@tempus.compuserve.com writes:
Subj: Compuserve and Usenet newsgroups
Just a little info. If you use the Internet dialer from Compuserve you
have PPP support and can use whatever news reader you like to read the
stories. Compuserve news server news.compuserve.com has all
newsgroups.
I use winvn and it is really nice because it will decode and encode files
on the file [fly?]. Also Netscape has a pretty easy to use news reader.
Finally if you subscribe by name to any newsgroup on compuserve you have
immediate access to it.
[Note: root@tempus.compuserve.com is not an address that accepts return
mail. Ed.]
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