Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
FREE! Internet Edition May 30, 1995
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
Chambers of Love
Part Five
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Three
Helga told us that she wanted to enroll our naughty asses in a
girl's reformatory school. "I could hardly put you up in one of the local
schools here, though, for you two would corrupt all the other young
ladies. Hence, I suppose I shall have to start a special school myself,
just for you. I shall be headmistress, and I must warn you that I expect
strict obedience. Now girls, pay attention, for we must start at once,
before you slip any further into decadence and degradation!"
We were made to stand and then she literally marched us off,
merely threatening our bottoms with her crop, however. I should
describe Helga's home. It was a large, old Victorian mansion, filled
with ornate furniture that recalled an age of rigidly enforced decency.
Rudely naked, collared like animals, Julie and I traipsed through this
imposing abode, our bubbies and asses jiggling. Julie let a fart as we
passed through the conservatory. An old woman in a painting, dressed
to the neck in frumpy church clothes, glared down at us.
Our first stop was a medical examining room, Helga explained.
We must have our school physicals before we could begin our new
curriculum. She would play the nurse. She donned a white cap and lacy
white fishnet gloves. They were fingerless. Then she slung a
stethoscope around her neck. Its soundpiece dangled down between her
bare bosoms.
Since we were gagged our temperatures could not be taken orally.
Standing side by side, Julie and I were bent forward until our heads
rested on an elevated examining table. As the men watched, a greased
thermometer was poked enquiringly up Julie's ass, then mine. Helga
said we both had slight temperatures and would have to be given
cooling injections. "However, since I see nothing here but men with hot
sperm I shall have to do it myself. A champagne enema, I think, will
suffice, and have the added effect of anesthetizing you both for the
ordeals ahead." Julie and I shivered at this and bit our lips, hoping
Helga was just showing off. The clatter of a maid bringing in an ice
bucket, however, proved that the enema at least was no joke. Two
maids were stripped of their blouses and made to hold open our
bottoms. Julie and I gasped as liquor was introduced directly into each
of our bowels. It was shiveringly cold and made me tipsy.
Staggering, we were led, drunk, into another room a few minutes
later. Blearily I made out two gynecological tables, side by side. Julie
and I were laid out on them. Thick pillows were placed beneath our
bottoms, lifting our hips and proffering our pussies to our hosts. Our
heads had only small cushions to support them.
My feet were drawn wide and strapped into steel stirrups, as
were Julie's. Each of us had been uncuffed before being laid out on the
table. Now our arms were roughly pulled above our heads, stretched 'til
they could stretch no more, and chained tightly to the wall behind us.
Our bosoms stuck up invitingly, offering our thorn-like nipples for
kissing, clamping, or even to be clipped off, as one man suggested. This
scared the daylights out of me, but Helga saw my worried look and
assured me no harm would come to me.
"Just relax, honey," she breathed. "It will be easier for you if you
do." Helga divided the men into two groups and told them to take off
their pants. They complied eagerly, soon displaying a forest of long-
stemmed toadstools. Julie and I mewed our misgivings behind our gags.
I didn't want all these strange men fucking me! I couldn't take that
many penises, surely I could not! The men lined up and the first one
came to me. He presented his cockhead to my cuntlips and rubbed me
nicely for a few moments. Just when I thought this was all things
would amount to he gave a quick thrust. I gasped at the penetration, he
grunted at my unexpected tightness. Helga told him to work slowly,
that I'd only ever had one boyfriend and was new to sex. Disconsolately
he forced himself to take his time, obviously wanting to spend quickly.
Meanwhile Julie was proving more accommodating, and her first man
humped her vigorously and gave way to a second.
With diligent strokes my man widened my passage and finally got
up into my innermost depths. He did not pump me but merely spumed
forth his seed, groaning as my velvety walls compressed and
constricted him with their virginal tightness.
The next man had to open me up all over again, but seemed to take
a bit more pleasure in his labors. He succeeded in rodding me several
times before my girlish clenching got the better of him.
Gagged and moaning, Julie and I took every last man in the room.
Finally we lay immobile, bathed in sweat, our duties done. Our pussies
hurt. We looked at each other, lying captive on our tables, and smiled
with relief through our gags. We had passed our first test of the
evening.
"Thank you gentlemen," Helga announced to our plunderers.
"Please refresh yourselves and await our arrival in the next training
room." The men filed out, to what destination I did not know.
Helga raised us up off the tables. We were re-cuffed, our hands
hung high behind our backs. We did not walk out of the room the same
women. Our gait was exceedingly awkward, with difficult, mincing
steps, thighs spread wide and pussies throbbing. The insides of our
legs were coated with drying rivulets of semen. Male fluid dripped
from our gaping wide cunts.
Two bowls waited by the side of the room. Chamberpots, made of
brass and intricately carved with depictions of cherubs and satyrs.
Helga said we must pee. Groaning, we squatted down onto our chamber
pots and made water in them.
"I have a few friends in the next room who are connoisseurs of
the Art of Love," Helga explained to us when we'd unsteadily regained
our feet after peeing. "I hope you don't mind, but they watched your
exertions through a little peephole. That mirror, over there." She
pointed to a mirror hung innocuously above a sink with a sign that read,
"Wash hands before each examination."
"They were quite impressed with you both. They'd like to meet
you, and congratulate you. Please come." She took us both by our
elbows and ushered us quickly through a door we'd not passed through
before. Reeling, I found myself amongst at least twenty older couples
elegantly attired in evening wear. They gazed at us with cheery faces,
tinged with the blush of alcohol.
A woman with too much makeup bussed me on the cheek.
"Marvelous performance, darling!" she gushed. A man shook my hand and
then whispered that I could outdo Julie if I'd take him then and there.
He laughed, slapped my shoulder heartily and drew away as his wife
admonished him.
"Congratulations, dearie," a woman who doubtless was a
grandmother-by-day said, shaking my hand. I brushed a lock of hair
from my eyes to try to make myself appear more presentable. I thanked
her. It went this way throughout the group, Julie and I being weaved
through them one by one and made to shake hands and accept kisses and
the occasional bouquet. They seemed not to mind that I was utterly
unpresentable. I minded, though, and searched frantically for a door. I
ransacked my mind for some excuse that would require my immediate
departure.
Finally, bedecked with flowers like some kind of new sexual
Olympians, Julie and I were permitted to make our departure. Helga
followed, and directed us into a bathroom. There two topless maids put
us into a shower and quickly rinsed us off.
Our next duty was to have our bottomholes widened, Helga said, in
the "Riding Room." She ushered us into a fully-equipped bondage room.
The men were there, stroking themselves to make themselves hard
again.
The topless maids mounted Julie and I on ersatz horses. They
were elegantly carved out of hardwood, but eerily headless. My wooden
steed had a saddle, which I straddled with my bare pussy. To my
delight I found that the seat of my saddle was lined with plush fur. My
pussy lips spread generously upon it. This, at least, would prove to be a
comfy ride, or so I supposed. I pretended to be a child on a supermarket
horse and bounced myself up and down, smiling.
"Giddeyap!" I said gaily. Julie, sitting erect and holding the reins
bolted to the front of her horse, giggled.
"Auugh!" one of the men cried at my nonsensical display. It so
aroused him that he shot off prematurely. His semen splattered two
men nearby. Needless to say, this caused quite a commotion.
"Hey! Watch where you're aiming that thing!" one victim yelled
gruffly.
"I'm not a pussy--or do you think I'm an asshole?!" the other
brayed. Julie and I burst out laughing. We now had one less prick to
worry about.
Helga finally got the men settled down. She reminded them to
keep handkerchiefs over their cocks. "Proper etiquette is important,
boys. Keep yourselves covered until your turn is called."
Unfortunately, Helga's plans were for Julie and I to do some "trick
riding," and this called for us to ride in unique positions. The maids got
busy once more. I was made to lean forward until my bottom jutted up
and out, my nether cheeks spread wide by my enforced posture. My head
was pushed low, almost to the floor, and bound so that I could not rise.
My arms remained cuffed at the back of my neck. My legs, pulled
straight, were strapped into stirrups. Julie's stallion was identical to
mine. The maids tied her down for her ride just as they had done to me.
I lay there, poised for bottom fucking, wondering how I could
possibly survive. Dan had slipped away and hadn't been seen since
before dinner. Julie squirmed nearby, as worried as I was. Fretfully
we waited as Helga instructed the men on how to open up tight asses.
"You must not force yourself unnecessarily," she advised. "I will
whip the girls first, to get them used to the stinging they will have to
endure when you enter them from behind."
There was an array of whips hung neatly on the far wall. Helga
strode up to the display and picked out a slim whip with a knotted tip.
Nervously I watched her over my shoulder, straining against the leather
strap which held down my neck. She walked up behind me and slashed
the air once with her whip. Its sound made me flinch.
"God, what legs! What an ass!" Helga exulted, eyeing my
fundament. "Scream prettily for me darling. The room is fully
soundproofed and you needn't worry about waking any Prince Charming
who might interrupt your lovely ordeal." With a practised hand she
raised the whip and brought it cracking down.
"Eeeeee!" I screamed, the knotted tip biting and stinging me like
an angry bee. I yelled and humped upon the saddle, to the utter delight
of the men, who stroked themselves furiously. The saddle's fur lining
was too much for my clitty and it sent me howling into an orgasm.
The bizarre torture continued, pain at my rump spurring
shuddering orgasms in my cunny. I wept and shouted lustily and
somewhere in it all I even squirted out my pee. I was taken beyond any
ability to control myself, reduced to a shivering mass of curvaceous
flesh. Julie watched all this with extreme trepidation, huddling upon
her horse, knowing she would be next.
Later I lay shuddering, barely aware that it was Julie now who
was being made to spill tears by the whip. Her screams were rending
the room, I told myself in a little voice, not mine.
Of course, I'd forgotten the main event. Helga said something
inaudible to one of the men and, to my gasping dismay, the cheeks of my
bottom were rudely thumbed apart. A moment later my asshole was
receiving its first intruder. It was a fairly narrow cock, good for
getting a girl started, but it felt huge to me. Slick with jelly the head
nosed inside me. I was so exhausted from my whipping I had not the
capacity to resist. My anal ring distended itself and my intestines
received their new playmate with vacuum-like joy. Up he went, and I
felt as if all the air were being forced from my lungs. My eyes bulged
as he buried himself to the root. Then, pleased with his entry, he
withdrew himself almost to the tip and repeated it. Up he went, then
back out, then up again, ever faster, as I began to buck and weave my
hips under the assault. Suddenly he grimaced. A moment later I felt a
hot flood of semen pour into my violated bowels. I swooned and
managed to clench my bottom cheeks several times, to squeeze him to
completion as fast as possible.
Afterward he stood wriggling himself within me, enjoying the
satisfaction of giving me his every last drop. However, the men behind
him complained that he was 'hogging my ass' and finally tore him off
me. This was little consolation to me, however, for in place of his
slim, deflating cock came a bigger one, fully loaded. I winced and
gasped for mercy as this new suitor entered me. He paid no attention. I
was an open asshole to him, nothing more. Amidst the frothing foam of
semen left by his friend, he now made his own grand entrance. And so
it went, man after man. Blearily I wondered if I would turn into a man
myself from all the testosterone that was being pumped into me.
Many penises later Julie and I stumbled from the "Riding Room."
We'd ridden our horses admirably, Helga told us, though of course
neither of us had traveled a single yard in any direction. She squired
our broken bodies into a room with two bare mattresses on the floor.
She said the room was not presently being used for its main purpose,
fucking, and we were welcome to rest there. It was warm. There was
no need for blankets. Julie and I slumped, exhausted, onto the mats.
Leaving us to recuperate, Helga departed, and I heard her in the distance
clapping her hands and announcing it was time for the topless maids to
perform with their cunnies. The men cheered. I fell asleep then, and
did not wake at all during the entire night.
"Come, dear," Helga was saying to me the next morning as I
groggily regained consciousness. "You must suck off each man before
he goes home."
It took me a minute to realize where I was. For a moment I was
certain I was in one of my naughty dreams in my bedroom at home. I
shook my head, sending my blonde hair flying, as I attempted to break
through the dream to the reality of my dollies and teddy bear. Finally it
dawned on me that this was reality, this demand to suck a dozen men's
cocks, and my dollies only a memory. I stumbled up, begged to pee, and
was reluctantly allowed to do so, in a chamber pot in the corner of the
room. Then I was taken through the house to the front door. There my
paramours of the night before waited, eagerly presenting their cocks.
Fortunately Helga had fetched Julie first, then come back for me.
The young wife had already done six of the men by the time I arrived. I
did the rest, and they left whistling like schoolboys. Then Helga told us
to go bathe and join her at breakfast.
Julie and I spent the day at Helga's, limping about. We nursed our
orifices, which had performed so ably, against our wishes, through the
long night. Despite our discomfort we had not been harmed, merely put
to good use, from which we would entirely recover.
"Well, I think your bottom is well trained now," Helga remarked to
me that night as she, Julie, and I enjoyed a private topless dinner
together.
"I'm glad you made some of them only put their cockhead inside
me," I replied, squirming my still-aching bottom on my chair. The seat
was covered with velour, a welcome comfort. We wore only silk
panties. The night was warm.
"Yes, some of the men were simply too big, but you'll learn to take
even those in time," Helga replied.
"I was a good girl. I took all of mine," Julie smirked, affecting a
high, schoolgirl voice. This set us to laughing, Julie boasting of the
prowess of her asshole. Even Helga joined in the merriment. Our freely
displayed breasts joggled merrily.
"You have the most marvelous bosoms, Helga," Julie said
admiringly when we'd settled back down. It was true. They were
classic Playboy boobs, the big round kind that look air-filled and ought
to flap around like pancakes but don't. They were glaringly white, in
contrast to her thoughtfully tanned neck and arms and tummy. The
nipples were perfectly sized, not too big like on some large breasts.
"I'm tempted to ask if I may suck one, just to see what its like," Julie
continued.
"You may each suck one," Helga replied. "In fact, I order you to."
She cupped her bosoms with her palms and expectantly offered them up
to us. I looked at Julie and she looked at me, and we exchanged smiles.
Daintily I reached out and plucked Helga's nearest nipple, even as Julie
put her fingers to the other one. Squeezing the bud, I tasted it with the
tip of my tongue, then slurped and began to suckle it.
Like babies drawing nourishment from the female bosom, Julie
and I suckled devotedly upon Helga's tits. She cooed and pressed our
heads more firmly to her. We fed upon her until her nipples actually
hurt, and then lapped the white cones of her breasts with our tongues.
Our mouths slithered down her tummy a bit later and met inquiringly at
her dell. Fingering ourselves we sent Helga moaning into bliss,
following soon after from our own fiddlings.
We were, to say the least, bonded together by then, we three
naughty females. Julie and I spent the night with Helga in her bed,
wrestling one another to climax after climax. We spanked each other,
burrowed vibrators into one another's holes, fed each other
strawberries and decorated our titties with whipped cream.
Morning found us frisky once more, so we decided to stay in bed
and play with each other's tits and clittys. That afternoon we lounged
in the buff by the pool. When evening came we donned teensy bikinis
and, at Helga's insistence, crashed a formal party we "accidentally"
mistook to be a swimming party.
***
Tiny mesh cups barely contained my boobs as I stood laughing
with a pair of couples in tuxedoes and gowns. I was openly admired by
the four of them as we talked. They offered me a glass of champagne
and I accepted, chattering on about how embarrassed Helga and Julie
and I had felt upon discovering how inappropriately we'd dressed for
their party.
D R E A M G I R L S N E W S
HITLER DID NOT GAS THE JEWS
by holy joe
Recently on a.s.s. there was some discussion of Òwhat does the First
AmendmentÓ protect? Different people had differing views. My opinion is
that the First Amendment doesnÕt protect anything at all.
Remember, the First Amendment isnÕt enforced by God. It is
enforced by like-minded people who wish to see it continue. The minute a
majority of people (including on the Supreme Court) decide they prefer no
first amendment, or a more limited amendment, AWAY IT GOES! (This has
already happened in the case of Òchild pornography,Ó a category that
includes photos of teenage girls in swimsuits (the Knox case). (Knox,
formerly a Phd. History candidate, is now spending five years in the
federal penitentiary for ordering a teenage-girl swimsuit video.)
The majority can be insane, remember. But because they are the
majority they declare themselves to be Ònormal.Ó Then they promptly
proceed to wipe out all the normal people, who are hereby declared
Òinsane.Ó Sounds impossible, doesnÕt it? Have you ever heard of Nazi
Germany? There a majority of the German voters elected Adolf Hitler.
ÒHeÓ wiped out millions of fellow Germans, who were categorized as
Òracial violatorsÓ under the law. (Jews, Gypsies, Poles, Slavs,
Homosexuals, etc.) To my knowledge, though, Hitler himself never laid a
finger on anyone. He asked others to do the Òlaying on of hands,Ó so to
speak. Hitler did not gas the jews. Hitler asked the German PEOPLE to gas
their fellow citizens, who happened to worship God on Saturday instead of
Sunday (the ÒJews.Ó)
We must certainly blame Hitler for ASKING that the Jews be gassed.
But we must not allow the ÒnormalÓ Germans to get away with pinning all
the blame on a dead man, after the fact. (Adolf Hitler.) Here in America, I
could ASK that all the people with freckles be killed. If the American
people then voted me President and obeyed my REQUEST to gas all the
people with freckles, who is truly at fault? Me? A lone idiot making
stupid requests of his fellow citizens? Or the citizens themselves?
N O T E : If you are redistributing the ON FLAMING article by me (in the
May 28th Dreamgirls), please change Jerry Falwell to Jimmy Swaggart.
(The televangelist who fooled around with prostitutes so many times
that he finally got kicked out of the church.) (I was attempting to cite
a DEfrocked minister, to make my point that somebody who is pounding
his fist on the pulpit one day may be found to be embroiled in ÒsinÓ
himself the next day.) (No use citing a still ÒrespectableÓ preacher
when you can cite an EQUALLY powerful preacher (Swaggart) who has
since been found to be all-too-human.) [This has now been corrected.
Ed.]
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