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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
DESIRE ISLE
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Chapter Two
"Thank you so much," Melanie breathed to Gwendolyn.
"You're welcome," Gwendolyn said softly. She put a hand to Melanie's
head and stroked her hair. Gwendolyn seemed almost retiring now.
Melanie found it hard to believe that this gentle young female had been so
bold as to face down Lady Burgess just minutes before. All four of them
were still as naked as they had been in Lady Burgess' chateau. Melanie,
Kimberly, David and Gwendolyn were being whisked away in the back seat
of Gwendolyn's white limousine. Maria had been left behind, in the charge
of Martin. He and Maria had hustled out just behind them to escape in a
limousine of their own. No doubt they might be planning to make their
first stop the office of a proctologist. Melanie prayed poor Maria had not
been hurt, even as she cursed the woman for betraying them. She herself,
and Kimberly, had come away unharmed. David sat beside Kimberly. The
girl was still snivelling, even as she made to inspect his apparently
healthy testicles and penis with her hands. Melanie glanced over at the
girl. Kimberly was treating David's groin as some lost childhood teddy
bear, as if its mere presence was somehow a security blanket for her. The
notion of inspecting his loins appeared to be but pretence, but Kimberly's
attentions seemed not to bother David in the least. He was still as hard as
ever.
"Ma'am, where are we going?" Melanie asked in a meek voice. She did
not want to risk offending the woman who had just saved her, yet she
feared falling into the clutches of yet another dominatrix.
"Where would you like to go?" Gwendolyn asked liltingly, still
fondling Melanie's hair. She felt like a little girl under the protective
attention of her mother.
"Home, please, um, to our hotel room," Melanie said softly, almost
pleadingly. Yet deep down, in her heart, she hated to part company from
this gorgeous young woman and all her wealth, and from David.
"And how about you, Kimberly, is the hotel where you would like to
go as well?" Gwendolyn asked. Kimberly made no response. Gwendolyn
nudged the girl, and she sat up, startled, her reverie with David's penis
broken. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, like a guilty child being caught
with a forbidden cookie. Gwendolyn realized Kimberly had no idea what
she'd been asked.
"Do you like David's penis?" Gwendolyn asked Kimberly. The brunette
blushed.
"He's very nice, ma'am," Kimberly whispered.
"He has entertained me in bed all this past week, since I first met
him on the slopes," Gwendolyn said. "It is him I came to rescue from Lady
Burgess. You and Melanie were just fortunate afterthoughts." Kimberly's
face was deep pink now.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, IÑI didn't realize he was yours," Kimberly
stammered. Gwendolyn put a tender hand to the girl's long locks.
"Share and share alike, that's what makes the world fun to be in,"
Gwendolyn said. She turned to Melanie. "You certainly have been through a
lot tonight, but do you really think walking into your hotel stark naked is
something you wish to do?" Melanie looked down at her own naked body,
and her hand flew up to alight upon her nipples as a gasp caught in her
throat.
"Oh! I'd forgotten!" Melanie said. "We've lost everything, even our
new fur coats! Well, they were just faux fur, but they did cost a lot!" Out
the corner of her eye Melanie caught for really the first time, at least in a
meaningful way, the blizzard of snow falling just outside the limo's
window as it sliced through the night. Inside she was buck naked, and
warm, yet if she concentrated she could feel the chill of the outdoors
radiating off the window beside her. There was no way she and Kimberly
could go straight back to their hotel. They would have to depend on
somebody's generosity to get them clothes. "IÑwe don't even have our
room key anymore," Melanie said. "We'd have to present ourselves at the
front desk andÑ"
"You certainly were cruelly used by Lady Burgess," Gwendolyn said.
"But that doesn't mean that I would do the same."
"Ma'am?" Melanie asked in a little voice. She blushed even as she
made to make her request. Depending on the benefaction of another
woman, no matter how generous and beautiful, felt awkward. "Ma'am?
Would you please help us get some clothes?" Melanie felt her hands clasp
together and wring themselves.
"We shall have to go to my Chateau," Gwendolyn said. "All the stores
where we might find apparel for you are closed at this hour."
"Of course," Melanie said. Gwendolyn leaned forward and picked up a
small receiver that hung on the glass and leather partition in front of
them. "Melville? To my chateau, please," Gwendolyn ordered the limo's
driver.
David spoke to Gwendolyn, his hands gesticulating as his voice made
sounds neither Melanie nor Kimberly could understand. Gwendolyn laughed.
"Poor boy, I still can't understand you," Gwendolyn tittered. "Come, let us
exchange places, sit here between the girls," the woman urged. David,
unable to communicate his own thoughts, seemed at least to get the gist
of what Gwendolyn was asking of him. He rose and, in the spacious cabin,
managed to exchange his own place on the bench seat with that of
Gwendolyn's. "The boy is apparently from Romania, or perhaps
Czechoslovakia, or some other country," Gwendolyn explained to Melanie
and Kimberly. "Unfortunately, I've yet to meet anyone who can understand
his language."
"I certainly can't," Melanie agreed, as David settled between her and
Kimberly.
Gwendolyn's bare bottom felt the warmth left upon the upholstered
bench where David's naked haunches had been sitting. "Girls, let's have a
bit of sport with the boy," Gwendolyn said. "Perhaps we can teach him
some English in the process." Gwendolyn leaned forward and delicately
lifted an ostrich feather from a padded compartment along the partition.
"Look, David," Gwendolyn said with bright eyes. The boy at least knew the
English equivalent of his name, for he turned his head at the woman's
beckoning. "Feather." Gwendolyn pointed to the silky implement she held
twixt her fingers. "Feather." She pointed.
"It's a feather, David," Kimberly said brightly.
"Father," David said haltingly, with difficulty. Gwendolyn passed the
feather to Kimberly, and told her to give it to Melanie. Then Gwendolyn
gave Kimberly a feather of her own. "Each of you put a hand on David's
knees and draw them apart," Gwendolyn said. Kimberly's eyes brightened
as the possibilities of play that the feather could engender entered her
mind. Melanie, a bit hesitantly, followed Kimberly's lead. A moment later
and both David's knees had been pulled about as far apart as they could be,
leaving his genitals looking very exposed indeed.
"Show David just what properties the feather possesses, by putting
it to him where he can feel it best," Gwendolyn told the girls. Neither
could resist, though Melanie heard a little voice crying "No! No!" in the
back of her head. Trying to suppress giggles, both Kimberly and Melanie
put the ends of their feathers right against David's penis. The boy groaned.
His sculpted chest heaved.
With soft, delicate strokes Melanie and Kimberly passed the airy
feathers over David's stiff cock and swollen balls. With each teensy
titillation David seemed to become ever more painfully aroused. His hands
rose and lightly grasped each girl's mane of hair. Yet they continued their
salacious torment, almost oblivious to his foreign phrased protests.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, white semen shot forth from David's penis. Both
girls drew back their feathers momentarily, shocked at what they had
done. Then, unable to resist, they put their feathers to David once more,
tickling his loins until every last drop of his seed had been expelled.
"Ejaculation," Gwendolyn said to David. Panting, the boy mouthed the
word in response as best he could.
"Well, you girls were a bit naughtier than I'd expected," Gwendolyn
said to Melanie and Kimberly. The two of them looked up at the woman and
gave sheepish smiles. "Perhaps David would like to have a bit of fun with
you. David?" Gwendolyn asked the boy. He rose from his place, thinking he
must move once more. Gwendolyn slipped from her place on the bench and
pushed the boy to the floor, hands on his shoulders. "Sit and watch,"
Gwendolyn told David. He could only gaze at her in reply. Melanie and
Kimberly exchanged glances. Here they were again, caught up in an erotic
repast the ending of which they feared would be written by somebody else.
"Each other," David said haltingly, pointing at Melanie and Kimberly
while addressing Gwendolyn. Melanie let her eyes fall upon the boy. He
had a perfect view of both her and Kimberly's snatches, sitting as he was
on the floor right in front of them.
Gwendolyn seemed to understand what David wanted. She snuggled
up close to Kimberly on the seat. "Each of you girls part your legs as wide
as you can," Gwendolyn said. Both Melanie and Kimberly obeyed. They
glanced at David. He looked upon their pussies with eager eyes. His
bulging biceps rippled, like balloons that had been filled with sperm.
Gwendolyn cupped Kimberly's nearest knee in her palm. She held it
fast. Then, with awkward sign language, she indicated to David that he
should put a hand over Kimberly's other knee, where it touched Melanie's.
He did. With his remaining hand David grasped Melanie's other knee.
Both Melanie and Kimberly now sat with legs spread wide. Their
eyes met. Here they were, going whence they knew not, with virtual
strangers for company, their bushes fully displayed. How did they get into
such predicaments? Yet their clitorises seemed to tingle with pleasure
under nothing more than the hot gaze of David.
"Kimberly, make Melanie pay for what she did to David by tickling
her clitty with your feather," Gwendolyn suggested. Kimberly, despite
knowing that Melanie was armed just as well as she, couldn't turn down
such a tempting offer. Melanie had always been the leader of the two of
them, older, more demure, yet now she had an opportunity to make her
friend squirm like a little girl! At once Kimberly put her feather to
Melanie's pussy. She cared not if Melanie got revenge, everyone knew
Kimberly was a squirrely little urchin, it was Melanie she wished to see
reduced to such a state!
Melanie retaliated with her own feather against Kimberly's clit.
How dare that little fiend do such a thing to her? Didn't she know they
were in the hands of strangers? They might be used, abused, spanked or
chained, whatever Gwendolyn and David might wish. They should keep
their heads at all costs, yet here was little Kimberly joyously seeing how
many flicks of a feather it would take to make her come! Working as
effectively as she could, Melanie applied her own feather to Kimberly's
clit. If she could make the girl come before Kimberly did her in, perhaps
she at least could keep her head while Kimberly swooned under an orgasm.
One of them at least should stay clear-headed!
Unfortunately for Melanie, perhaps because of her somewhat more
Puritan view of life, perhaps only because Kimberly had gotten a few
seconds head start, it was Melanie who first succumbed to orgasmic
pangs. She bit her lip and flicked at Kimberly harder. Tears blossomed in
the corners of Melanie's eyes. She stole a glance at David. Beautiful
David, sitting like the boy king of Israel on his haunches watching her.
Melanie yelped and moaned. Kimberly, the fiend, was bearing up better
under the feather than she!
"Ooohahhh!" Melanie swooned. She bit her lip again and squeezed her
eyes shut. She cared not if her feather went astray. Was she still tickling
Kimberly's spot? Was that not Kimberly's thigh her feather had fled to?
Melanie struggled to contain the orgasm that welled up within her. She
must not lose this battle, she couldn't!
"Umph!" Melanie cried, and then a long moan followed. Her feather
trailed aimlessly on the seat between Kimberly's thighs as an orgasm
shook her. She heard Kimberly giggle. A second orgasm tore through
Melanie, right on the heels of the first. And a third. Melanie threw back
her head against the plushly upholstered seat in defeat. She had been
beaten fare and square, by her own best friend who was her junior, yet
who somehow had better control of her emotions than she herself.
Kimberly's laughter came to her ears. Mocking, triumphant.
"Congratulations, Kimberly," Melanie heard Gwendolyn say. Her voice
was charmingly unemotional, as if bestowing a motherly accolade upon
some child at a birthday party.
"Do I get a prize, Ma'am?" Kimberly asked eagerly. Melanie let her
eyes come slowly open. From somewhere Gwendolyn had fished out a
riding crop. She presented it to Kimberly. The crop had a pink bow tied
about its handle, at the apex.
"How is this for a present? It's all I have in the car," Gwendolyn
said. Though Kimberly's back was turned to Melanie at the moment the
blonde could just see the impish smile spreading across Kimberly's face.
"Oh, my! I've always wanted one of these, Ma'am!" Kimberly
exclaimed. "To use on naughty boy's bottoms...and a few bad girls too!"
Kimberly accepted the crop and seemed to study it. Her fingers traced its
long, slim, hard surface; pencil thin and flexible.
"You've never been treated badly by Melanie, have you?" Gwendolyn
asked.
"Oh, quite often, ma'am," Kimberly piped up. Melanie could feel her
hands turning to claws, wanting to rake the snippy girl's smooth, straight
back. Kimberly sat straight as a school pupil eagerly offering an answer
to the teacher. Her bottom bulbed beneath the slim circumference of her
waist.
Gwendolyn stroked Kimberly's hair. There was tender reward in her
eyes. Had Kimberly given just the answer Gwendolyn sought? "Well, you
can now instruct Melanie on how to treat you properly, if you wish,"
Gwendolyn said with an airy chuckle in her voice. The woman's hair was
long and lustrous, like finely spun gold, almost white in its overall
appearance, so Aryan was it in its aspect. Yet perhaps in its ivory beauty
it was not in fact the Yin to Lady Burgess' Yang. Perhaps there was a
touch of the Nazi in Gwendolyn.
"I would like to very much," Kimberly said. Did the girl not know
that this exchange might prove to only be a prelude? Melanie wondered.
This was only the bait, she mused, and Kimberly was foolishly taking it.
Kimberly swung her new crop inexpertly through the still air of the limo.
Its leather surface shone like polished brass; a wicked implement, meant
to drive horses to a pitch of activity, yet used nowadays no doubt
primarily upon the rumps of females!
Gwendolyn lifted a receiver from the wall in front of her. It was the
walkie talkie that allowed her to talk to the driver. She spoke in French.
"How foolish of me," Gwendolyn said, replacing the receiver once more in a
housing on the front wall. "Melville reports that there are some furs in
the storage area just behind his seat. I should have thought to ask him
earlier. He, of course, should have suggested it, but senility has taken its
toll on his mind." Melanie felt the car pull to the side of the road. There
was a crunch of gravel beneath its tires. After what seemed a rather long
delay, with Gwendolyn providing tips to Kimberly on the use of her new
crop, a haggard figure appeared in the swirl of snow just outside the
limo's lefthand window. Gwendolyn smiled and opened the door.
"Here y'are, ma'am, I just about broke my back tryin' to get 'em out
for you," a grey haired man said. About 100 years ago he must have been
quite handsome, Melanie thought, but now so many lines ran through his
visage that he looked almost to have risen from the grave.
"So you knew you had these all along?" Gwendolyn asked rather
tempestuously.
"Well, uh, I shouldn't lie, ma'am, indeed I did, I'd hoped by turning up
the heater in the back I could keep you sufficiently warm without them,"
Melville said sheepishly. Like a boy confessing to stolen cookies, Melanie
thought.
"You will be spanked when we get home," Gwendolyn said, a note of
sternness in her voice. "But then, that's probably just what you wanted,
isn't it? Hmmm?" A twinkle seemed to come to Melville's eyes.
"Not me, ma'am, a spanking would interrupt my devotions to the
Lord," Melville said. Though his face remained solemn Melanie found
herself barely suppressing a laugh. The old bastard! How lucky he must be
to be baring his heinie to the voluptuous Gwendolyn when other old men
his age were confined to nursing homes, bereft even of the privilege of
buying Playboy! The old man shuffled quickly away, heading back to the
front of the limo. No doubt he would squirm with delight all the way to
Gwendolyn's chateau.
Gwendolyn presented a fur coat to Kimberly and wrapped her in it.
Then she put on a fur herself. There were no more. "Melanie, you and David
are out of luck, I'm afraid," Gwendolyn said. "But there are three pairs of
fur boots here. David, be a gentleman and put these on Melanie." The
blonde might have spoken up but a love of David caught hold of her mind.
She almost wanted to be naked for this! David took a pair of fur boots
from Gwendolyn and passed a hand over their tufted surface. They were
brand new and, somehow, looked just the right size for her, Melanie
thought.
"These will protect your feet from the snow," Gwendolyn said to
Kimberly, shoeing her in a pair of boots of her own. At the same instant
David leaned forward, chest muscles bulging, and offered a boot to
Melanie. Gingerly, ladylike, Melanie offered a small foot. David sheathed
her. The boot ran all the way up to her knee. A second followed. Beyond,
Kimberly in turn booted Gwendolyn.
"Help Melanie out of the car, David," Gwendolyn instructed. David
considered Gwendolyn's sentence a moment, digesting it through the filter
of his foreign mind. Then he nodded, and firmly grasped Melanie's forearm.
Melanie realized they must be at Gwendolyn's chateau. She hoped the walk
to the front door would be short. She peered out the limo's window, but
the virtual storm outside obscured all. She realized she didn't even know
where she was, and would need instructions from Gwendolyn if ever she
were to return to her hotel. She hoped Gwendolyn would finish clothing
them and bundle them back home quickly.
Outside Melanie could see no lights. Only a fencepost, its barbed
wire coils long since shorn away and buried under the snow. This seemed
a desolate land. Nobody had passed them either way all along the road, so
far as Melanie could remember.
"Bind her to the post," Melanie heard Gwendolyn say behind her. The
command came as a shock. Melanie made to turn but felt David grip her
firmly. She was pushed forward, her booted feet crunching on the snow,
then sinking deeper as she was led down the road's slightly curving
shoulder. Behind her the limo's side door still stood open, exuding a
warmth that she was now too far away to feel.
Melanie was in snow as high as the midpoint of her calves when
David lifted her wrists and pressed them against the rough hewn post.
Melanie prayed no splinters punctured her. She kept the rest of her body
away from the post, David seemed not to mind. With shivering hands,
snorting like a horse in heat, David produced a fibrous rope from
somewhere and quickly bound Melanie's wrists to the post. Melanie began
to shake with the cold. At first the warmth of the limo had still lingered
on her skin, but now it was rapidly departing. She felt the wind nip at her
every succulent crevice. Would more than that soon touch her her flesh?
"Gwendolyn!" Melanie cried out. She turned her blonde head to see
two furred figured standing just beyond. Below their knees would have
extended bare legs, save for the boots they wore. Melanie could barely see
their faces. "Kimberly, help me!" Melanie cried. She heard an impish
giggle.
"Are you cold, darling?" Gwendolyn asked. David slipped away, his
job done. He retreated to the womb-like limo.
"Y-y-yes," Melanie chattered. Her whole body seemed mummified by
the cold now. She wanted to cry, but feared icicles on her face. "What are
you doing?" Melanie screamed. Her voice merged with the wind. She
prayed they would not leave her here. Surely this must be some lurid
joke? Kimberly should not participate in such a dangerous farce. Melanie
would put the girl over her knee and spank her at the first opportunity.
"I think your bottom will not be cold for long, at least," Gwendolyn
called through the storm. Her head tilted to Kimberly and Melanie saw her
whisper to the girl. Perhaps they were just talking normally, the wind
blocked out all. Kimberly strode forward. In the darkness formed round
her face by her hood Melanie thought she saw two eyes gleaming,
mischievously.
"Gwen says I should whip you, for practice," Kimberly explained. Her
crop swung through the air, hitting snowflakes.
"You bitch! Get me free from this!" Melanie swore, tugging at the
ropes which held her fast to the stiff post. She liked swearing not in the
least, but if any situation were appropriate for it, this one was.
"Only a few swats, I promise," Kimberly said not all too
convincingly. She drew back her new crop and brought it in against
Melanie's bottom; swooshing through the air it came, then landing with a
loud, biting CRAAAK!
"Yeeow!" Melanie danced in the snow, her feet unable to rise from the
thick white powder that suddenly served to imprison them. Melanie's
reaction had been delayed a moment, thanks to the extreme cold, she had
thought for a few seconds that somehow God had spared her the hurt of the
rod. But then, searing like a hot iron, the crop had made itself felt.
Melanie tugged once more at the ropes round her hands. She was captured,
imprisoned, both at her hands and feet. Her legs were even a good 18
inches apart, so off guard had she been caught by these new
circumstances. Try as she might, she could not wrest her feet from the
deep packed snow. She was helpless, and pray to her own best friend
which now held a crop just inches from her heinie.
"Remember when you wouldn't let me talk to that guy because you
thought he was too old for me?" Kimberly cried across what seemed like
furlongs of snow, but was little more than a foot.
WHACK! came the crop again, once more making Melanie dance. Dear
God! The girl was bringing up long lost injustices from their childhood! If
Kimberly remembered every one Melanie would not get off with less than a
hundred lashes!
CRACK! and WHACK! came the crop twice more, searing across the
whiteness of Melanie heinie, leaving bright red lines in its wake.
"Stop it! Kimberlyyy!" Melanie begged, tears mutinously coming to
her eyes. She hoped, foolishly perhaps, that they might freeze right in the
sockets, so as not to show Kimberly the extent of her hurt.
WHACK! and WHACK! and WHACK! came the crop, as if to drive Melanie
forward that she might uproot the very post she was tied to. Horses were
sometimes used in this way, beaten with the rod until the uprooted a tree
stump. Melanie could only dance and writhe in reply, her tender bottom
jiggling. Her hips were impelled forward with each blow, however, but
then her bottom cheeks sprang back just as quickly, as if to ask for
another hit.
"That is enough, Kimberly, we do not wish to harm your friend,
merely to provide her with an incentive to better control herself should
she duel ever again with feathers," Gwendolyn said, coming forward. She
reached out and stayed Kimberly's hand. David, as if on cue, sprang from
the limo and hurried down the sloping bank along the road. Melanie tugged
at her bonds as David undid her ropes. A moment later and she was free.
Her hands flew to her bottom. It stung at her touch. Just as quickly, she
brought her arms forward and wrapped them round her freezing bosoms.
Gwendolyn grasped her by the hair, David by her shoulders. With the force
of David's hands providing the primary force, she was wrested from the
snowbank into which her feet had sunk. A moment later and the door of
the limo loomed. She was pressed inside and David leapt in behind her and
slammed shut the door.
Gwendolyn and Kimberly entered from the opposite side of the limo.
They settled beside Melanie, faces bright. Melanie huddled on the seat,
face downcast, arms round her tits, bottom seemingly burning a pattern
into the leather covering on which it was perched. "Kimberly, take off
your coat and loan it to your friend. She must not be allowed to catch
cold," Gwendolyn said in an instructional voice, as if teaching manners.
"Yes'm," Kimberly replied, and pulled the fur garment off her little
body. Carefully, as if robing a favorite doll, she put it over Melanie's
shoulders. Melanie cared not to sluice her arms down the arms of the coat.
She wore it as a shawl, snivelling in her pain and embarrassment at the
cropping she had received. The limo drew away from the roadside and
headed down the highway.
30
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