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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LONDON DUNGEON
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Chapter Three
Malta gazed with appreciative eyes at her guests. They were all
beautiful, all four of them, and she hated to think how different they�d
look when she was through with them. Indeed, her reference to the
Inquisition was not inapposite. When Malta had completed her training the
girls� white, flawless bottoms would be welted and scorched. Their tight
pussies would be sore, sundered. Their pert breasts would feel like
wineskins that had been sucked and depleted. Their mouths, so sweet and
delicate, would be chafed, their teeth stained with sperm, their lips
smeared with residue from every bodily orifice. Their tongues would have
an intimate knowledge of the human colon.
The men, so randy now, would leave the dungeon with the physical
prowess of old men; worn out, depleted, their cocks, so thick and hard
now, hanging like limp washing. Their balls, strung up tight and full
between their legs, would dangle like church bells. Their arms would ache
and their legs would be stiff. Their mouths, so eager now to probe and
suck, would be exhausted and slack.
And yet the difference between the Inquisition and Malta was this:
despite being nearly destroyed by her torments, they would bounce back.
They would not be truly injured and broken. In a few days they would heal.
Their flesh would recover its former strength. And when it did, they
would be stronger, more confident, more able in the arts of love. The men
would have more stamina, the females would be more endearingly
receptive. That was why Malta did not feel guilty about what she was
about to do to her charges. Even so, there was a sadistic streak in her,
which she had to be careful to keep under control. She would not have
been dissatisfied to find herself in Papal robes, charged with �redeeming�
heretics on the rack.
And so it was that Malta gazed at her new guests. How charming
they always were, she thought to herself, these young couples, when first
they frisked nakedly in her dungeon. Everything was new, startling,
wondrous. Malta especially liked those, as was the case with her guests
tonight, who were utterly new to bondage. How sweet their faces looked
as they awkwardly explored their new surroundings. They knew they were
being bad. They knew they were doing what should not be done, what they
had been warned against. Yet, possessed by an indefinable yearning, they
found themselves here all the same, under the tutelage of a Mistress, and
eager to accept her guidance. Indeed, it was not merely guidance they
sought, or some enhancement of their sexual education. They wished to be
taken to the limit of their endurance. They wished to find their limit, in
their suffering, and then to be taken beyond it. They wished, in short, to
be punished. Sometimes they could not admit this to themselves. The
girls believed they were simply being feminine, pushed to the final point
of their ability to receive. The men told themselves they were simply
being masculine, though forced to fuck until their cocks nearly dropped off
their bodies. Yet, in truth, for whatever reason, what they really desired
was to be punished. To be forced to obey, to be naked and sweaty and
gasping and to be made scream, until their voices were as exhausted as
their pretty, defiled young bodies.
�Gentlemen, do you find the dildos attractive?� Malta asked with a
grin.
�Not- not really,� John said. A guilty look came over his face and he
put the dildo he held back onto the shelf with its brothers.
�I�ll say,� Tom agreed. He frowned at John. He turned away from the
man and as he did Malta gazed at his bare white bottom. How small it was!
How well-formed, like two buns, scrunched side-by-side. Malta felt a
yearning within herself to discover how much such a small, compact
bottom could take. Six inches? Eight? Twelve? She licked her lips. Tom
would not leave here without her finding out exactly how many square
inches of cock he could endure up his small, apple-round bottom.
Perhaps Tom knew that his bottom was being sized up for abruptly
he turned around, and Malta was presented with the spectacle of his cock.
It was hard again. Stiffly it stuck out in front of him, oblivious to the
sharp-edged saws and the guillotine in the room. Under his thick-
stemmed cock his balls brooded. Though he had only recently cum one
would not have been able to tell, for they were fat like a water balloon.
From the abundance of Tom�s balls Malta let her eyes wander to John.
He was a year older. His cock was noticeably longer than Tom�s, though it
hardly made Tom�s appear unsuitable for both men were handsomely
endowed. As for his balls, they swelled with even greater vigor, for John
had been waiting two weeks for this visit to Malta, and had obeyed her
injunction not to lose any of his seed. Now he was, no doubt, regretting
his abstinence, for his testicles looked like they would burst if he so
much as placed a finger on them, they were so swollen. Malta wondered
how John managed to sit, when they were sitting upstairs, in the living
room, with such a big sac of sperm hanging between his legs.
�Gentlemen,� Malta said, placing a hand behind each of the girls who
stood on either side of her. She patted the girls� fannies. �I have two
young ladies here who will be expecting you to work. Now I know what
you�re thinking-- isn�t this trip to my dungeon supposed to be a vacation?
After all, it�s almost Christmas. However I�m afraid the work I have in
mind for you is not the work you do every day, at your jobs, with your
shirts tucked in and your belts buckled and your pants securely fastened
around your waists. No, this work requires you to be without your pants.
It is work for your cocks. You are going to be asked to use your cocks,
repeatedly. The fucking you will be asked to do will not be the leisurely
fucking you are used to, where one obtains a certain amount of pleasure
and then casually spends. No,� Malta said, patting each girls� bottom again
as she gazed at the men. �Quite the contrary. I expect you to hold on to
your seed, if you possibly can, and you will very much want to, for I have
many tasks that I will be asking you to perform this evening. All with
your cocks. You will use your bare, naked cocks to pillage these two girls.
Their mouths, their pussies, and even their bottom holes must be
repeatedly raped.�
Jill and Lynette flinched. Malta looked at them. �Yes, girls,� she
said. �I know that�s a dirty word: rape. It implies one who is thoroughly
victimized, doesn�t it? Yet I warned you that you would be asked to give
yourselves completely tonight. What better word to describe such a
complete surrender than rape? You see, you will have no right to refuse.
And the men, spurred by me, will keep fucking you. Every position, every
possible combination. Up the ass, down the throat. Between the breasts,
even between the fingers. Yes, even your little hands will be sore when
the men are through with you, girls. And as for you two men, as you can
see, much will be required of you. Work is the proper word for it. Heavy
labor, that�s what it will be. All the while you will be expected to keep
yourselves stiff. Your throbbing hardness must not dissipate. It must not
be released in a thoughtless spurt. Tonight, you must keep yourselves ever
in readiness. Ready for the next task, the next job, the next... rape. Do you
think you can handle the job, gentlemen?� Malta asked.
�I... guess so,� Tom said. He looked at John�s cock and then at his
own.
�What�s the matter, short stuff? Don�t think you�re up to it?� John
teased.
�John, do not insult your friend�s penis,� Malta said. �Yes, you are
bigger, but to call Tom �short stuff�, well, that would be like calling the
Empire State Building a bump.�
Tom grinned shyly at this comparison. He looked at himself again,
and then proudly tightened his ass. This caused his penis to flex, which
displayed his length more profoundly.
�Yes, be proud of your penis, Tom,� Malta said. �You too, John. Show
yourselves off. This is the place for it. Normally you must be kept
zippered up, forbidden to offer yourselves to the world. We see only a hint
of your meat, just the bulge of it, sequestered painfully, is that not true,
in your pants? But now your pants are off, and you may strut and stiffen
as freely as you wish. Savor your hardness. Feel the length of yourselves,
protruding so completely from your bodies. How do you men do it? That�s
what I�ve always wondered. We girls have bosoms, it is true, but they just
hang there, save for the diminutive little points at the end of them. It�s
pathetic, really. All we girls can offer the world is the little nipple
points at the tips of our breasts. But you men! How lovely and shocking it
is to see you in a state of arousal. You can demonstrate to the world your
passion. Big and thick and throbbingly hard, where before there was only
limpness. You can command us girls to notice, can�t you? And you can do
more than just command our eyes. You can command us to swell for you,
and give birth to your offspring. We are your receptacles, gentlemen, isn�t
that so? You use urinals for your pee and girls for your legacy. Ah yes,
gentlemen, but tonight we shall test just how strong you are, at using and
commanding females. For that is the wicked pleasure of it; instead of
just being allowed to command, to rape, you MUST rape. You must do it
over and over and over, and when you finally beg me to let you stop, I will
push you even harder. Tonight you will be in labor, gentlemen, for the
first time in your lives, and I intend to make it fully as painful for you as
the labor women must suffer, when they deliver your children.�
Of course, as Malta knew, her words only served to excite the men
further. How perverse it was. Surely, under any other circumstances, a
rational human being would have cringed at what he was being told. But
the men, hearing Malta, became more erect. They became more
passionately full of themselves. As for the girls, their small nipples
stemmed even more pointedly on their breasts. Their hips, already prone
to wiggling, gyrated with even greater abandon. Malta caressed both girls�
bottoms and gazed with apprising eyes at both men�s cocks. Yes, her
charges were ready now. They had been warned and warmed, as she liked
to say. Now she would begin their trials.
There was a high wooden platform at one end of the room. It was not
at all comfortable, just a slab of wood. If one got up on it one could see
worn spots in the wood where people had knelt. Leading up to the platform
was a ladder. Hanging carelessly from one of the ladder�s sides, looped
over the top right post, next to the uppermost rung, was a rubber bit. It
dangled from a cord, which was made of elastic, and which was intended
to go around the head of one unfortunate enough to find the bit in one�s
mouth.
Malta pointed to the platform. She tugged at Lynette�s elbow.
�Lynette,� she said. �I wish to photograph you. Would you please ascend
that ladder? I want you to look over your shoulder as you go up it, and I
would like you to offer your bottom to the camera. Stick it right out.
Push it out at me so that I may photograph not only the rondure of your
ass, but also your furry cunt which nestles so sweetly between your legs.
And stand with your legs apart and your knees bent, so that your little
hole, hiding between the cheeks of your bottom, may be seen by anyone
who happens to see the photos I take of you.�
�Y- Yes,� Lynette said. She shivered as she listened to Malta. She
felt the woman�s hand carefully caress the cheeks of her ass. �But why?�
�When you reach the top of the ladder, dear, I want you to take that
bit,� Malta said. �Still showing your bottom to me, wiggling it and
offering it, I want you to put the bit in your mouth. Don�t worry about the
strap. John will get that over your head. Just put the bit in your mouth.
Lick it first, then place it in your mouth and bite hard on it, and get
completely up on the platform.�
�Why do you want her up on the platform?� Tom, Lynette�s boyfriend,
asked. There was a note of trepidation in his voice, and he advanced two
steps toward his girlfriend.
�She is going to be ass raped,� Malta said. Her voice was casual, as
if she were reporting that Lynette was going off to her freshman classes
at college. �Yes, Tom,� Malta said. �I noted on her form that she said her
bottom was virgin, and that a secret fantasy of hers was to be deflowered
there. But you were not man enough to discover that, Tom, despite having
her as your girlfriend. Now you will suffer the humiliation of seeing
another man do what you should have done.�
�No!� Tom cried. He stepped forward, but John caught his arm.
�Whoa there, little bud,� John said. Tom strained at the man�s arm
but John was bigger, and Tom, secretly excited at the prospect of seeing
Lynette fucked by another man, did not struggle too hard. For Lynette was
not simply a virgin due to Tom�s negligence. He had tried to take her back
door, pleaded with her even, but she had always refused him. Yet it was
also true that Lynette, despite her refusals, had really wanted Tom to do
her, but she had not been willing to give herself up, instead needing to be
taken.
�I- I could never do that,� Lynette said. She tugged her arm out of
Malta�s grasp. The woman smiled.
�I read your questionaire, dear,� Malta said. �That�s why I had you
fill it out, so I would know your likes and dislikes. Were you lying when
you confessed in the privacy of your questionaire that you wished to be
sodomized?�
�N- No,� Lynette admitted. Malta�s fingers repossessed her slim
arm. She pulled lightly at the girl, drawing her closer. She put a finger
under Lynette�s chin. She tilted the girl�s face up and looked into her blue
eyes.
�So you do wish for it, but you cannot surrender yourself voluntarily,
is that it?� Malta asked. Lynette said nothing, but nodded, silently, her
eyes widening as she did it.
�And Tom, he was too well trained in the virtues of feminism,
wasn�t he?� Malta asked. �What you really wished for him to do was to
grab you, throw you down, and force you to receive him? Isn�t that so?�
Lynette bit her lip. �No,� she said finally.
�You lie, my dear. But it is to protect your sense of virtue, isn�t it?�
Malta said. �Don�t worry. It will be fully protected here.� Malta turned
the girl, and examined her bottom. Lynette flinched but, except for a
tightening of her cheeks, a huddling against Malta�s whispering hand and
the probing of her finger, she did not move away from the woman. �Yes,�
Malta said. �How pretty and white your behind is. And how naked! The
lash has been especially designed to induce compliance in virtuous girls.
When you have felt its leather cutting into your flesh, opening you so that
you bleed, then you will be ready to offer your bottomhole, without
reservation.�
�No!� Lynette cried. Yet still she did not move, even now, despite a
pushing of Malta�s fingers between her cheeks, running up her crack, then
down again, slowly, for the crevice was very tight, for Lynette, with her
young small bottom, was able to provide truly virtuous resistance. Malta
found the girl�s hole and pushed. �Oooh!� Lynette shrieked.
�Mmmmm! Let her whip you!� Jill said. The girl with the big bosoms
leaned forward and kissed her slender brunette friend, who was suffering
the intrusion of Malta�s finger. Lynette opened her mouth. She let Jill�s
tongue push into her, even as Malta pushed deeper into her behind.
�Ahhh, you do not refuse as much as you might have,� Malta told the
girl. �See? Your bottom accepts. It is very tight, as befits a virgin
bottom, but it accepts. How rude of you to let me stick my finger into you!
But I will spare you the severest part of the whipping, because of your
willingness to accept. But still I think you should not just be allowed to
ascend the ladder, given how you�ve dawdled. Another thing I must teach
you tonight is immediate compliance. No matter how soft my words, no
matter how gentle my request, you must learn to do whatever I ask at
once. Without complaint. Do you understand, my child? It is how you
must be when you are married. When your husband asks to perform his
marital duties, I do not want you telling him you have a headache. You
must immediately comply, for his request in such a matter is very
important to a marriage. It can mean the difference between a fruitful
marriage, with children, and a barren one. Think of all the couples who
wish they had children, but do not! What do you think the problem is,
hmmm? It is this: when the husband felt his powers to be at their zenith,
the wife had a headache. When the wife yearned for passion, the husband
was spent, having secretly used up his zenith at a nudie bar, because his
wife had a headache. Or, worse, on the toilet, with a copy of Penthouse.
He came in the toilet, giving up the best of himself, while his wife
moodily slept in the bed, with her �headache�, refusing his sperm. You
will not have such problems in your marriage, my dear, with any
consequent risk of childlessness. No. When your husband asks to fuck,
which it is his right to ask, you will obey. Immediately. Without question.
You will get into whatever position he requires of you and you will take
him. You will let him plunder you, and fill you with himself. And as a
result you will be fruitful, while other women are barren. That is why I
must whip you now, so that when I ask you again to ascend the ladder, you
will obey at once. Come, let us go put you in the stocks, and I�ll will lay
some welts on your ass, though I will not make you bleed, in deference to
the subtle willingness you showed just now, however rude, in allowing my
finger to worm its way into your bottom.�
Malta withdrew her finger. There was a small, sucking *pop* as her
finger removed itself from Lynette�s tight behind. Suddenly the girl
reached back behind herself and clutched at her cheeks. �Oh, this is so
dirty!� Lynette said. Malta put a hand to the small of the girl�s back and
pushed her forward, toward the stocks.
�This is what we are about tonight, my virtuous child,� Malta said
teasingly to the girl. �Bottoms, and cunts, and sperm-flavored cookies.�
Lynette blushed, well remembering how she�d gobbled the gingermen
cookies upstairs.
�Oh, do not be too hard on her!� Jill said.
�No harder than I will be on you,� Malta said to the blonde.
�Oh, but I haven�t done anything wrong!� Jill said.
�I haven�t asked you to do anything yet, that�s why,� Malta said.
�But perhaps now I will. You shall whip Lynette.�
�What? Oh, I could never!� Jill said.
�That is why you must,� Malta said. �It will teach you to have the
nerve to spank your children when they are naughty. Too many parents
today are too indulgent. You will not be, because you will think nothing of
applying your palm to a child�s behind, after flaying Lynette�s ass with a
whip.�
�Oh, but--� Jill said. She looked at her friend. Lynette cringed
under Jill�s gaze, despite the fact that the blonde was looking at her with
the utmost affection.
�Yes, girls,� Malta said. �You must not only learn to receive, but to
give. Truly, there is much you both must learn. What novices you are!
Why, the whip is a spur to passion, not merely an item of discipline.
Perhaps someday you will need to lash your husbands, to ensure that they
are erect, when, in their later years, their spirits begin to flag. And think
how stiffly they would stand up, in their youth, if you applied a sharp whip
to their bottoms. Look!� Malta pointed to both men. They stood with their
hips cast forward, their cocks offered like sausages to a cleaver. �Does it
entrance you, gentlemen, the thought of having yourselves strung up, and
your asses whipped, while your penises, thick and hard, make a lewd
display of themselves in front of you, bobbing about in time to the blows
of the whip?�
�I- I�m sure it doesn�t,� Tom said, but he jutted his hips out all the
more. At the same time, reaching back behind himself, he opened the
cheeks of his ass.
�Look! He not only wants to be flogged, but to be impaled,� Malta
said.
�I knew it!� John crowed.
�Oh, no he does not!� Lynette squealed.
Tom, realizing what he�d done, let go of his ass.
�Sorry,� Tom said.
�There is no need to apologize, my dear young Adonis,� Malta said.
�We are here to explore. There are no boundaries. Males may be females if
they wish, while still bearing wonderful erections. And females may be
masculine, if it so moves them. That is why I have a shelf full of cocks.
But now let us attend to your girlfriend�s darling bottom. Really, it is so
delectably round and shapely. I can�t wait to get a whip into it! How I
wish I could make it bleed! But I will restrain myself, and to make extra
sure of it, I will have Jill do the honors, giving Lynette her first
whipping.�
�Oh but I mustn�t hurt her!� Jill said. She looked at Lynette and
Lynette gazed at her, and suddenly they were kissing.
�Yes, girls, enjoy the softness of each other�s bodies. Soon enough
life will be hard. Very hard. With Lynette on her knees on the hard wooden
platform, being ass raped, and you Jill... well, you will see what hard work
I have in store for you!�
With quivering nipples and buzzing dells, the girls embraced. Jill
pressed her big-bosomed figure against the shorter, slimmer form of
Lynette. The men watched the girls� svelte naked backs writhe. They
watched as the girls� slender legs intertwined. They listened, cocks
stemming, as the girls gasped and sighed, their fingers slipping into each
other�s cunts even as the men stroked their erections. Malta, standing
clothed in her long gown, smiled. How wonderful it was to see the girls,
with their hands so free, their tongues seeking in each other�s mouths.
These were young college girls who had scarcely thought about lesbian sex
before coming to her dungeon. Now, already, they were deep into each
other. Malta had no doubt that, on late winter nights, after they left here,
they would continue the love they were finding here. It was a whole
different love from that which a man, with his hairy, muscular body,
provided. It was softness, delicacy, sweet smells and gently, shyly
proffered lips. Yet it could be sharp too, like the plunging of a cock in a
cunt, as she was about to show them.
�Girls, please,� Malta said at last. �The gentlemen are waiting.�
�Oh, pooh on them!� Lynette said. �All they think about is raping.�
She broke her face away from Jill�s. She looked at Tom and John. She
stuck out her tongue at them. Then, simultaneously giving her bare bottom
a tempting wiggle, she went back to kissing Jill.
�My, what a little flirt you are, Lynette!� Malta laughed. �You�ll have
both men cumming all over my floor if you keep that up. Enough, girls!�
Malta clapped her hands. �Now we must select a whip, and I want you to
do it, Lynette. Jill, we must see to it that she is not too shy in her
selection. I want her tested, by God, if only because I�m dying to see that
small little bottom of hers wobble all over the place!�
Malta walked forward to where the girls stood and grasped both by
their arms. She kissed each on the cheek, reassuringly. Then, tugging both
girls along with her, drawing them across the room as if to share in an
afternoon tea, she led them to a wall of whips. Both girls gasped as they
passed the guillotine and were forced to confront, for the first time
really, the whips that were so artfully displayed there. Had they been in a
museum the girls might have simply stood there, and shyly stared, but
Malta nudged them forward, saying, �Well, girls. I noticed when I took you
on a tour of my dungeon earlier, you did not really get a good look at the
whips. Was it because you feared having them used on you? Was that the
reason? I suppose you knew that not all this equipment can be used,
particularly the circular saw, and the guillotine, and so you had less
qualms inspecting those, since you didn�t really fear them, did you? But
the whips-- ah, how you avoided them! How you pretended to notice, but
really didn�t, averting your glances. Now I not only command you to look
at them, really and truly, but to reach out and fondle them. Yes! Just as if
they were your lover�s penis. For these whips will love you as thoroughly
and implacably as any man can. They will kiss and bite into your flesh,
making you wince. They will nip at your nipples and slither between your
bottoms. And you will kiss them when their work is done. Yes, just like
you kiss your lover when you are passionate. Lips apart, tongue
receiving.� Malta reached around Lynette�s slim waist and patted the
flatness of her belly. She smiled at the girl. �You will even taste a whip
between the lips of your cunt.�
�No!� Lynette cried.
�I like this one,� Jill said. She plucked at the knotted tips of a thong
hanging on the wall.
�That one will hurt,� Malta said. �But that is the purpose of a
whipping. To challenge,� she said. �Take it down, Jill. Don�t be afraid of
it. Let�s see how it marks little Lynette�s bottom.�
Jill removed the whip from the wall. She did it deferentially, as if
handling a rare, precious gem. She showed it to Lynette. The brunette
touched it lightly, with one finger, then quickly drew her finger away.
�Let�s go to the stocks,� Jill suggested, growing suddenly bolder.
�Oh, hold my hand!� Lynette implored.
Together the two girls walked, hands clasped, to the wooden stocks
that stood tall in the middle of the room. With her free hand Jill whisked
her new whip back and forth, watching as the knotted tips swung through
the air. With her free hand, Lynette clutched at her bottom. They reached
the stocks. Lynette looked at them. There were two sets of holes, one for
a person standing fully upright, or almost so, and others farther down, for
someone who was bent over. Lynette, sensing that she must be put to the
holes in any event, reached for the upper ones.
�No, Lynette,� Malta said. She touched the girl�s back. Gently she
bowed her forward. Lynette�s fingers slipped out of the upper holes and
grasped at the lower ones. She slipped her hands forward, through the
well-carved openings, and rested her wrists in the holes. Then, impelled
by Malta, she pushed her head forward, and stuck it through the neckhole.
The lower, as well as the upper holes, were constructed of twin
pieces of wood. Each one had a half moon cut into it. When the upper bar
was closed upon the lower bar, the victim was trapped. Lynette moved her
chin back and forth, rolling her neck on the half-circle of wood that was
cut into the lower bar. Malta nodded to Jill. Together the two women
brought the upper bar down onto the lower bar.
�Oh! You are trapping me!� Lynette exclaimed. As the higher bar fell
upon the lower, she found her head cut off from the rest of her body. The
wood pressed tightly about her neck. She rotated her chin but she could no
longer pull her head back out of the trestle. She wriggled her hands. They
too were cut off, from the length of her arms. Haplessly, on the other side
of the closed boards, she waggled her bottom. She heard the click of a
lock as Malta secured the two boards. Then the woman laughed.
�Yes, little one! Now you are no longer the master of your fate, are
you?� Malta said. �Look up, if you can. The upper bar you initially reached
for remains open, its twin holes empty. How you would love, I�m sure, to
be standing upright, instead of bent over, hmmm? Do you feel how exposed
your bottom is, with your back bent over like that? Just wait to see
what�s in store for you next. I have here, lying on the floor, something
called a spreader bar. I�m going to ask you to open your legs, so I can fit
the length of it between your knees. How open you will be then, hmmm?
It�s a very long bar. It will be quite a strain, to accommodate it, but I�m
sure you can manage-- just. Mmmm, how your wiggly breasts hang down,
so pert and beautiful. I�m going to have to put clips on them, to protect
them from the whip. Unfortunately the clips will, of course, pinch your
nipples. Don�t wiggle too much or the clips will hurt more, especially
since I�m going to hang weights from them.� Malta laughed again. �How
skinny you are!� she said. �I think I can count all your ribs. Let�s see...
one, two, three, four, five... my, my, let�s hope I don�t get carried away and
break any of them.�
Lynette, bent at the waist, stood with her thighs tightly pressed
together. It took several minutes of soft kisses from Jill, on her bottom,
and a teasingly tickling finger, courtesy of Malta, to get the girl to open
her legs. As soon as she did Malta shoved the bar between them and
telescoped it to its full length.
�YEEEEEEK!� Lynette cried in alarm, realizing she�d been coaxed into
her own undoing. Leather straps were quickly passed around her knees.
Actually they were passed just above and below them, so that the poor
girl, in her forthcoming agony, would be able to freely bend her legs. Then
Malta, taking a key from her gown, locked the bar, so that it could not be
retracted.
�Oh my God!� Lynette gasped, feeling the air upon her exposed
bottomhole, and within her wide-apart legs. She shivered, both with fear
and a kind of sensual ecstasy, borne of all the kisses she�d shared with
Jill.
�You are both aroused and fearful. Very good,� Malta said. She
reached beneath the girl and tickled her nipples. �Jill, go around front and
offer your friend the succulence of your tongue,� Malta ordered. �Kiss her.
Whisper to her how you�re going to hurt her with that whip you are holding.
All the while I will tickle her breasts, and tweak this lovely pouch of
flesh offering itself so completely between her legs. Shiver, dear child.
This is the first part of your torment, enduring love and knowing pain
must follow. Is it not like real life? Do we not sometimes meet a lover,
and know all will be passionate, but that it will end? I remember meeting
a soldier, when I was 12, who had leave before going to war. He feared he
would die. So did I. And he did die, most cruelly, which broke my heart. It
was a terrible thing.� She fondled the girl up within her legs. Lynette
jerked. Her tits wobbled. Her bottomcheeks tightened, then relaxed, then
tightened anew. �You are only getting a little of what we experienced, in
real life, both of us fearing my soldier-boy would die, even as we made
love,� Malta told the girl. �But perhaps you have experienced something
similar. However, don�t tell me about it. It�s your bottom I�m interested
in now.� She gave the girl�s ass a slap. Lynette screamed. �What? A
simple slap, and you scream?� Malta asked. �You will be noisy. I shall
have to gag you.� She looked over the bar, at Jill, who was trying to coax
Lynette into kissing her. �Never mind, dear,� Malta said to Lynette. �The
girl wants to wake the neighbors. It�s quite impossible, I�m sure, since
we�re downstairs, but just to be on the safe side, get one of those big red
ball gags for her, that�s hanging there on the wall by the whips. There�s no
need to have our ears split by her when there�s such an easy way to
silence her. Not that I mind screaming,� Malta said. �But it�s her first
time and I can see she�s going to want to do quite a lot of it.�
Jill fetched a gag. She pushed it into Lynette�s mouth, rather
reluctantly. Then, less reluctantly, for the girl was being difficult, trying
to spit it out, Jill bound it tightly around her head.
�Ah, your cunt open and your mouth gagged,� Malta said, when Jill
had finished. She tickled Lynette up inside her legs. Lynette shrieked but
it could hardly be heard. It was like a mouse, squeaking.
�That will teach you not to cooperate,� Jill told the girl. She was
slightly red-faced from having to work hard to get the gag properly tied.
Lightly she slapped the girl�s face. Lynette shrieked again.
�Ah, yes!� Malta complimented Jill. �Do that again, but harder. I
didn�t think you had it in you. Whale away-- she�s just a slut, aren�t you,
Lynette?�
SLAP! Jill hit her friend harder. Both men, watching, began
vigorously to masturbate.
�Do you like that, gentlemen?� Malta said. �But I told you not to
play with yourselves. I shall put you both to the guillotine if you keep it
up. Do you know what choice awaits you, as you stand with your cock
locked between two halves of wood at the guillotine? You may choose to
be sliced, or you may choose to be branded. Yes, right on your penis,
gentlemen. On the cockhead. The flesh is nice and thick there, especially
along the top. A nice little M on your cockhead, for Masturbator. What
would you think of that, hmmm? Or should I open your asses, like O in the
story of O, and put a nice O back by your butthole?�
�We�ll... uh... quit jerking off,� Tom offered, dropping his hand from
his dick. John did the same.
�Very good. How obedient,� Malta said. �Now stand with your hips
out, gentlemen, showing your desire for attention, and your fearlessness
in the face of your surroundings.�
Both men did as Malta asked. Clearly, they still wished to play with
themselves, for their hands brushed awkwardly against their hairy thighs,
up high where their balls hung. Yet they kept their hands just clear of
their genitals, and Malta clucked her approval.
�Very good, gentlemen. Now stand like that and watch, paying
special attention to the whip, as it lands blow after blow on little
Lynette�s bottom. Imagine how it would feel if one of these thongs on the
whip hit your penis just once, hmmm? How do you think that would feel?
Or on your balls? Oh, how you would be bruised, from an errant blow! You
would remember it for days. Yes, gentlemen, but on the other hand, if
applied with just the right amount of force, and, admittedly, a certain
daring, a good whipping might indeed be delivered to a man�s cock or his
balls. We shall have to try that, hmmm? Don�t worry, you will not be my
first.�
�Oh, God!� was all John could say in reply. Tod said nothing at all,
but merely stared, wide-eyed, at the clothed woman.
30
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