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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LONDON DUNGEON
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Chapter Five
ÒGentlemen, you have ruined my dress,Ó Malta told John and Tom. ÒI
cannot keep it on, despite my best wishes.Ó The woman walked over to
Jill. She asked Jill to undo the zipper at the back of her dress. Jill
complied. Then the girl helped Malta out of her things, revealing that,
under all she wore, Malta had a figure that matched any womanÕs, and
perhaps exceeded even JillÕs.
John tried to say something but his gag prevented it.
ÒWhatÕs that?Ó Malta asked the man. ÒOh, my. I cannot decide which
I prefer. The sight of a big, strong man, helplessly bound and gagged, or
the compliments he is sure to pay me if I take the gag out of his mouth.Ó
ÒYou are very lovely,Ó Jill said to the woman, admiring her figure.
Malta had big, heavy breasts, which offered ripe, upturned nipples. She
had a waist as narrow as an hourglass. Her hips flared gracefully, and
Jill, admiring the woman, actually placed her hands on the womanÕs hips.
ÒThank you, dear, but really I must hear from the men,Ó Malta told
the girl. She slipped out of JillÕs hands and strode across the room,
leaving her expensive clothes piled carelessly on the floor. She walked up
to John. Reaching up, she undid his ball gag.
ÒThank God!Ó John gasped.
ÒWhat do you think of me in the nude, darling?Ó Malta asked the man.
ÒYouÕre gorgeous,Ó John said frankly.
ÒYes,Ó Malta agreed. She undid TomÕs gag. ÒAnd you?Ó she asked.
ÒI want to fuck you right away,Ó Tom said with equal frankness.
ÒOf course you do,Ó Malta smiled. She was going to re-gag the men,
after hearing their compliments, but John said,
ÒPlease, keep that thing out of my mouth. ItÕs as big as a manÕs
scrotum. I feel like a fag wearing it.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Malta said. She tossed the gags to the floor. ÒBut I want
both you men to be free with your compliments, then. Tell me how pretty I
am.Ó
ÒYou are the best,Ó John said.
ÒIÕve never been so horny in my life,Ó Tom agreed.
ÒAh, men! YouÕll say anything to keep a ball gag out of your mouth!Ó
Malta sighed. Meanwhile Jill, left to herself, had managed to wedge
LynetteÕs nose into her pussy again.
ÒOh! Oh! Oh!Ó Jill cried.
ÒLook at her,Ó John said to Tom. Both men watched. Jill was
clasping her friendÕs face with her hands. Her legs straddled the girlÕs
head. Her pubis was pressed up against LynetteÕs helpless nose.
Repeatedly Jill shoved herself forward, as if trying to stick LynetteÕs
whole head up into her sex.
John smiled. ÒSheÕs letting Lynette smell her cunt.Ó
ÒSheÕs doing more than that,Ó Tom said. ÒSheÕs using my girlfriend
to titillate herself!Ó
Jill, overhearing, suddenly let go of Lynette. She leaped back, as if a
wasp, and not LynetteÕs nose, had been investigating her cunt.
ÒOh, my!Ó Jill gasped. She blushed. She sighed. She blinked her eyes.
Guiltily she looked at Malta and the men.
ÒWhatÕs the matter, Jill? Is your little friend being nosey?Ó Malta
asked. Then she let out a hearty laugh, which caused her big tits to bounce
on her chest.
ÒNo, I mean, yes!Ó Jill moaned.
Tom gazed at the girl, and licked his lips.
ÒYou have one Hell of a girlfriend,Ó Tom remarked to John.
ÒI know,Ó John answered.
Jill, who looked like a blonde pin-up, and in fact had posed for a
Bikini companyÕs calendar while in high school, was now rather less
pristine than the air-brushed photo in the catalog had made her appear.
Her cheeks were red. Her face was flustered. Her tits, which had
been too excited for the calendar, the nipples poking sinfully into her bra,
and thereby necessitating the air-brush, now swung free and unhindered.
Her nipples stuck up like ripe thorns.
JillÕs stomach, flat and drawn tight beneath the jut of her lowest
ribs, heaved. Her hips wriggled back and forth, like a pendulum gone
amiss. And between the sleek columns of her legs, which were wobbly-
kneed, due to her ardor, her pussy was moistening.
ÒOh, God!Ó Jill cried. She tossed her forearm up above her eyes. She
slapped her thigh with her other hand and jutted her lovely hips out before
her.
ÒWhatÕs the matter, Jill?Ó Malta asked. ÒHas LynetteÕs little nose
put you into a lather?Ó
ÒSheÕs about to cum,Ó John said.
ÒAh, yes,Ó Malta agreed. ÒAnd how embarrassing it would be for a
young college girl like her to cum on her friendÕs nose.Ó
ÒOh, God!Ó Jill gasped again. Her voluptuous body shivered. She
looked from the men to Malta, then to Lynette. Her friend, bent over and
captive, stared up at Jill, like a rabbit caught in a fence. Jill rubbed her
hands on her thighs.
ÒGo ahead,Ó Malta told Jill. ÒStep forward and enjoy your crisis on
little LynetteÕs nose. Or, if you wish, you may masturbate yourself with
your finger.Ó
ÒNo!Ó Jill shrieked. She lifted her pretty, flustered eyes and stared
again at Malta, then at the menÕs cocks. ÒOh, canÕt you release them?Ó she
begged.
ÒWhat? Release the men?Ó Malta said. ÒBut then things would be so
conventional, Jill. You did not need to pay me a visit to pleasure yourself
on your boyfriendÕs penis. You could have done that at home. No, Jill. The
purpose of our games here is to put you in the very crisis you now find
yourself. Shall you masturbate, publicly, right here in front of us? Or
shall you once again press your pussy to your friendÕs nose, and force her
to bring you off?Ó
ÒOh, I cannot-- cannot use LynetteÕs nose to bring myself to
orgasm!Ó Jill said with desperate eyes. At the same moment one could see
that, as she gazed again at her friend, she was thinking of doing that very
thing!
ÒWhy not?Ó Malta asked. ÒYou have my permission. ThatÕs all thatÕs
required here. Pleasure yourself on your friendÕs cute little nose. How
innocent and thoroughly trapped she looks, stuck there by her hands and
her head in the stocks. Use her for your most sinful pleasures. Press your
pussy to her face. Her breath, her exhalations, and the gentle rubbing of
her pretty little nose will do the rest.Ó
ÒOh, I must whip her, mustnÕt I?Ó Jill asked. She ran her hand
through the blonde hair on her head while, at the same time, touching her
private hair, between her legs. She was desperate to find something else
to do with herself besides dwelling on the ardor of her dell.
ÒYes,Ó Malta, her eyes twinkling, agreed. ÒYou must whip your
brown-haired little friend. Whip her bottom! Stop playing with yourself,
Jill. Get busy with your whip, if you donÕt want to make yourself cum.Ó
ÒThen I SHALL whip her,Ó Jill resolved. She gazed down at Lynette,
who couldnÕt move, but only roll her eyes in her head, and wiggle, quite
helplessly, her hips. ÒSheÕs bad,Ó Jill told Malta. ÒShe almost made me
cum!Ó
Lynette, bent-over and quite immobile between the stocks, squeaked
in protest. But Jill went behind the girl and picked up the whip, which lay
waiting on the floor. She gave it a swing. Its tips struck Lynette on her
bottom.
ÒYOOOOOOCH!Ó Lynette howled. Her eyes flew wide open and her
palms, previously balled into fists, opened as if to catch two baseballs.
ÒOh, that wasnÕt hard,Ó Jill said to the girl. She patted her friendÕs
bottom. ÒI never noticed what a sweet, chubby ass youÕve got, Lynette.
Really itÕs quite perfect. Mine is bigger, like a womanÕs. But yours is
small like a childÕs, yet quite nicely rounded.Ó
Lynette, not as aroused as her friend, for nobody had been sticking
their nose up her dell, made a queer, dissatisfied expression. But if she
disapproved of Jill, whom she shared her college classes with, examining
her bottom, she could not say it, due to the big gag stuffed in her mouth.
ÒIÕm going to whip you now, Lynette,Ó Jill explained to her friend.
Even as she spoke she caressed the girlÕs heinie, clearly impressed by it.
ÒIÕll try not to do it too hard,Ó Jill said. ÒAnd, if I can, IÕll keep the whip
tips out of your ass. The crack, I mean. And I wonÕt let them hit your
pussy either, nestled here between your legs.Ó
ÒYOO-OOO-OOO!Ó Lynette squeaked again, air rushing from her small
nose in quick snorts. Her friend softly explored her sex.
ÒCanÕt we close her legs?Ó Jill asked Malta. ÒI donÕt want to hurt
her.Ó
ÒAh, but that is the fun of it, dear,Ó Malta told Jill. ÒDo your best to
avoid her snatch and her crack if you wish. But no, I will not permit you to
close her legs. You must learn not simply to slash, which anyone can do,
but to control where the tips fall. Someday you will whip men, and they
will stand before you with their big scrotum sacs hanging down. Even if a
man closes his legs, often the back of his scrotum sticks out between the
backs of his thighs.
ÒIsnÕt it interesting?Ó Malta told the girl. ÒMen are so big and
strong. So tough. And yet a girlÕs quim might be struck by a whip and
leave little damage. On the other hand, a whip striking a manÕs scrotum
can bruise him and leave him injured for days afterward. How strange
that men, prized for their toughness, should be so tender down between
their legs, where their family jewels reside!Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jill gasped.
ÒSo no, I will not let you close your little friendÕs legs,Ó Malta
explained to the girl. ÒShe is an excellent test subject. Oh, it will hurt if
you strike her between her thighs, where her cunt lips nestle. But
nobodyÕs family jewels will be injured. At worst a whip tip might burrow
into her cunt, and strike her clitoris. But what does that matter? In some
Arab countries the clitoris is removed, surgically, with no harm to the
family lineage.Ó
Lynette emitted a strangled cry in her throat. Pleadingly she looked
from Malta to the men. She rotated her hips. Behind her, behind the board
which separated her head from the rest of her body, Jill picked up two
nipple clamps off the floor.
ÒShall I try to affix these to her cunt lips, to hold her open?Ó Jill
asked Malta.
ÒAh, you wicked girl!Ó Malta said. ÒNo, my dear. That would be
needlessly cruel. We must let LynetteÕs cuntlips do their best to protect
her clitoral treasure. Instead you must hang them upon her nipples. There
are weights lying on the floor too. When you have clipped LynetteÕs
nipples I want you to suspend as much weight from them as you think they
can bear. I will leave it to your judgement. She is, after all, your friend.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jill agreed. Still wriggling her own hips with passion, even
as Lynette tried to pull herself from the stocks by gyrating her lovely,
bent-over body, Jill clipped LynetteÕs nipples. She looked like a milk-maid
as she bent low and reached beneath her friend. She clasped her nipples
with her fingers. First one, then the other. Lynette shrieked each time
she felt a nipple clamp bite into her flesh.
ÒThere,Ó Jill said, a moment later. ÒNow I will hang weights from
your tits, Lynette. Then we all can watch them swing back and forth when
I whip you!Ó
Despite LynetteÕs gagged protestations, Jill weighted her friendÕs
clamped tits. Soon LynetteÕs pendulous breasts were even more
beautifully presented. The full cones of her breasts hung down like ripe
fruit, overburdened with juice. Had Lynette been with child, milk might
have squirted from them, owing to the pressure placed upon her by the
weights. Lynette wiggled. The weights swung to and fro.
ÒPerfect!Ó Malta complimented Jill. ÒNow hit her bottom. The men
will love the display she makes with her swinging tits!Ó
ÒOh, God!Ó Tom groaned. How often he had seen his beloved bent-over
he did not know, for they made love frequently. Yet now, seeing her from a
distance, bent over for a whipping, with her nipples trapped and stretched,
her frantic mouth gagged, her cunt almost sure to enjoy a visit from the
thong tips, he nearly spilled himself. Even without touching himself, he
nearly ejaculated. John, standing beside him, felt a similar brush with
passion. Malta laughed.
ÒAh, men! How I wish I understood you better! First you have small,
withdrawn penises. Then lust strikes and you grow big and hard! And
then, when you spurt, you become small again. You go from something
inconsiderable to something magnificent in a matter of seconds! We girls
do not have such a fine way of displaying our love as you do. How I wish I
could show myself as a man does, making a big production with something
as big and throbbing as a cock!Ó
Malta stepped behind the men. She picked up a length of steel chain.
She drew it behind their backs, pressing it into the small of each manÕs
back, and drawing it tight, finally locking it on the opposite post. The
chain kept the men pressed up against the wooden boards which trapped
their cocks.
ÒHey, whatÕs the meaning of this?Ó John asked Malta.
ÒOh, shit! This chain is keeping us trapped,Ó Tom said.
ÒYes, gentlemen,Ó Malta said. ÒYou both looked so randy I figured it
was time to use the chain. Now, even if you cum, you wonÕt be able to get
free. You will still be trapped against the boards, because the chain at
your back will keep you pressed to them.
ÒHey, thatÕs no fair!Ó John protested. ÒThe deal was that if we
spurt, we go free.Ó
ÒReally?Ó Malta asked. ÒNobody told me, and IÕm in charge. No, men.
The deal is that I get to torture your helpless cocks. ThatÕs the deal.
Whether theyÕre big, and throbbing, or small, either way I will torture
them. Why do you gentlemen think I brought you down here? To listen to
your intelligent conversation?Ó
ÒFuck,Ó John swore.
ÒNow, while Lynette is tortured, you men must be tortured too,Ó
Malta announced. ÒWhatÕs good for the goose is most certainly good for
the gander.Ó She strode to a shelf where various toys lay. ÒWould you
boys prefer that I whip you, or...Ó Malta grinned. ÒWould you rather
embarrass yourselves by spurting all over the floor?Ó She picked up a
feather. The men trembled. ÒYes, gentlemen,Ó Malta said. ÒYou are more
frightened of the feather, are you not? A whip would be merely painful,
but a feather would cause embarrassment. You would lose yourselves,
spurting your precious seed all over my floor, and little Lynette, and
lovely Jill, would have to remain unsatisfied.Ó
ÒOh, please donÕt use that feather on us,Ó Tom begged. ÒIÕm already
about to cum.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Malta said. She waved the feather in the air. ÒYou, John, and
Jill are all on the brink now, arenÕt you? And yet we have so many hours
left to play! IÕm sorry, men. But thatÕs the nature of a visit to my
dungeon. ItÕs a confusing melange of pleasure and pain, with the pleasure
being at least as unbearable as the pain!Ó
SNAP! The sound of a whip striking flesh echoed through the
dungeon. Malta looked over her shoulder. Jill, unable to linger over her
friendÕs bottom any longer, finding herself jealous at its perfection, gave
her friend a taste of the thongs.
ÒHOOOOOOO!Ó Lynette cried. She wiggled her hips. Her breasts, hung
with weights, shuddered under her chest.
WHAP! The whip sounded again, making LynetteÕs hindquarters jump
and testing once more the ability of the gag to keep her screams quiet.
ÒOOOOOOO!Ó Lynette managed to say, though it was mostly stifled.
ÒOh, God! ThatÕs so erotic! Look how sheÕs waggling her ass!Ó John
enthused.
ÒThatÕs my girlfriend youÕre talking about,Ó Tom said.
ÒAnd itÕs my future ass-fuck!Ó John crowed. ÒDonÕt forget, Malta
promised to let me deflower her.Ó
ÒNo way!Ó Tom protested. However, his next sound was a scream, for
he suddenly felt Malta apply her feather to the tender underside of his
cockhead.
ÒAh, Tommy!Ó Malta said. ÒFeel the pleasure the feather gives you.
Let it overcome you. Go ahead, spend yourself on my floor. ItÕs John, after
all, whoÕs been promised your girlfriendÕs virgin bottom!Ó
ÒNo!Ó Tom said. The sound came half-strangled from his throat. His
chest tightened. His arms bulged. He fought against the cuffs binding his
hands, keeping them back behind him, where he had no hope of protecting
his penis with them.
ÒGive it to him,Ó John said to Malta. ÒHeÕs spent once already
tonight. I want him finished, empty. Then I can have both girls to
myself!Ó
ÒAughggh! Stop!Ó Tom cried.
ÒOh, Tommy!Ó Malta said. ÒHow many nights did you spend in your
dorm room, dreaming of pleasure? And in your bedroom, in high school?
And in elementary school? How many times did you loiter outside the
7/11, eyeing the PlayboyÕs behind the front counter? The Penthouses?
The Hustlers? The issues of Barely Legal? How many times did you wish
to fondle yourself, and yet wish not to, caught between desire and desireÕs
nemesis, guilt? HERE is the pleasure, Tommy! Enjoy it! Feel my feather
as it tickles your hungry cock! Watch-- I can poke the end of it into your
pee hole! All the attention is now on your penis, Tommy, and yet you
resist! Please, Tommy, donÕt fight me. Am I not pretty enough for you?
ArenÕt my breasts big enough? My pussy, is it not tight enough? My ass--
shall I turn around for you-- is it not perfectly shaped, round as an apple?
Go ahead, Tommy! Waste your sperm on my floor! Decorate the stone with
your jism! I donÕt mind. IÕll even lick it up for you!Ó
ÒAckckcck!Ó Tommy shouted, as, in the distance, his girlfriend
shrieked, albeit not too loudly, at the whip biting her bottom.
ÒGood God! Put a gag in that man!Ó John said to Malta. ÒGag him like
his girlfriend!Ó
ÒOh, he wonÕt need a gag in a moment,Ó Malta smiled. Tenderly she
whisked the feather under TomÕs cock. She touched just the tip, brushing
his pee hole, and a little underneath it, with the very end of her feather.
Tom was painfully stiff. There was a bloat to his penis now, an extra
dimension to its size, that was beyond even its size at full erection. It
indicated he was on the verge of spending.
ÒYes!Ó John crowed. He gazed at his friendÕs cock with the interest
of a gay man. Indeed, John would blush, afterward, recollecting how
freely he looked at his friendÕs penis in the dungeon. He studied it avidly
and licked his lips and made sucking sounds, hoping, by imitating the sound
of a woman giving oral sex, to inspire Tom to spurt himself on the floor.
ÒStop doing that!Ó Tom grimaced, and managed to glare at John.
ÒI canÕt help it! I love seeing you show off your cock like that,Ó John
said.
ÒYes, we all love it, and now Tom is going to show off whatÕs in his
balls,Ó Malta cackled.
ÒOh, shit!Ó Tom cried. Suddenly a shot of sperm fired from his dick.
Malta leapt back. She took her feather with her.
ÒHey! Come back with that!Ó Tom gasped. His eyes gaped. He looked
longing at the feather.
ÒI donÕt want to get sperm all over it,Ó Malta said. She twirled her
feather in the air.
Everyone, even trapped, bent-over, bottom wiggling Lynette, watched
as Tom lost himself. He pumped out his cum onto the floor, unaided by
fondling hands or whisking feathers. There was no pleasure in it, no
gripping of the penis, no teasing, no touching. Just his bare, naked cock,
spurting its jism uselessly onto the stone floor under his feet.
ÒOh, God,Ó Tom said. He stared down at himself. Long strings of his
cum issued from his cock and fell, like paint in a Jackson Pollock painting,
onto the hard, unfeeling canvas of the floor. When he was done there was
silence in the dungeon. Gradually TomÕs cock began to lose its prestigious
size. Its hardness faltered. It drooped. It shriveled and his groin was
free, save for the chain which held him fast to the boards, pressing into
his back.
ÒWell, thatÕs that,Ó Malta said disappointedly.
ÒHeÕs made an ass of himself,Ó John said.
ÒAnd you think youÕll fare differently?Ó Malta asked John. She
approached him with the feather.
ÒOh, please donÕt make my boyfriend cum all over the floor!Ó Jill
begged.
ÒAh, we must see if he can take it, though,Ó Malta told the girl.
ÒEach man must have his due. Keep busy with your whip, girl! You have
your job and I have mine!Ó
30
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