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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Chambers of Love part 6 of 18 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
CHAMBERS OF LOVE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Six
A misty morning in Paris found us sheltered in a modest hotel,
sipping hot coffee.
"Helga's putting us in the army!" Julie hissed to me, just as
Helga strode out of the bathroom, elegant as ever.
"Shush!" Helga said. She sat down with us at a little round
bedroom coffee table. "It is not the army. It is called the French
Cadets. It is where young girls and boys are trained to be women and
men."
"What sort of uniforms will we wear?" I asked suspiciously.
"Why, ones that accentuate your loveliest parts, of course,"
Helga answered with a smile.
"I thought so," I said. I liked meeting handsome men and being
treated like a Lady. The thought of being holed up in some school
seemed hopelessly immature to me now.
Helga rose quickly. "Come along, girls. If you don't like the
school perhaps you can get yourselves expelled."
By late afternoon Julie and I found ourselves standing at
attention in an open field. We wore oversized engineer-type hats
emblazoned with police shields, black knee-high jackboots and tight,
undersized jackets. The waist of the jacket was buttoned up to our
bosoms, then pulled back to leave our breasts bare, then secured again
at our collars. We wore little ties that hung down to where our bosoms
popped out, just barely entering the squeezed cleft between our tits.
On our shoulders we wore epaulet boards indicating our rank. Julie and
I and most of the other girls were "Privettes, first class." We were
bare legged, save for our boots, and bare hipped. We wore no skirts, no
pants, no panties.
Interestingly, not all the girls were young females. Some were
women approaching middle age, enrolled by their lusty husbands. In the
shadow of distant trees the husbands and boyfriends watched us. We
would be a spectacle to them the whole time we were here. They had paid
our tuition for us and expected to get their money's worth. The school
had no reservations about allowing its training to be monitored by those
who were paying the bill. Helga stood with the men, the only woman in
the group. I wondered if she had enrolled us just to be the only woman
in a group of sex-fired men.
"The bitch!" I cursed under my breath. Julie and I were no
doubt to be spanked and whipped, just so Helga could be with a group of
rich, randy men. (This place was not cheap, I could tell). She would
meet new contacts to sell us to whilst we writhed and burned under
numerous tortures. (Yes, I knew now what her game was. She
"introduced" us to men like master, and later he sent her a generous
"donation" in the mail. Not all was planned, however. I don't think
she'd expected master to make her a slave too. However I was sure the
"donation" he'd made at the end had been increased accordingly.)
"Did you say something, Privette Predieu?" a woman dressed in a
severe black dress with a riding crop asked me.
"N-No, ma'am," I stammered. My name was not really Predieu,
I'd made it up. They encouraged us not to sign in under our real
names. Upon graduation we'd have to go back into the real world, and
some of the ladies were were well known. Of course, living together in
the barracks we'd get to know each other's faces, so the system was not
foolproof.
"I will not tolerate any disobedience of my orders," the woman
said to me. I looked down. It was no use talking back to her.
"Privettes" did that on purpose to invite punishment. I'd had enough of
punishment and truly did not want to invite any here. The woman in
black strode on but said she'd remember my name and keep a close watch
over me. Words, no doubt, to prepare the way for my correction, for no
girl was to leave here without a sore bottom.
Later we girls sat about within the confines of our barracks,
unpacking and settling in.
"One may as well be insolent to her and get it over with," a
girl said to the others regarding our "Sargente," the woman in black,
otherwise known as Mistress Persephone.
"There's no 'getting it over with,'" an older girl said. It's
only a matter of when it begins."
"Well, I at least plan to be very good," a small girl of 14
piped up. Despite her youth she had pretty breasts. A girl could be
enrolled at any age provided she had sufficiently mature breasts. Hips
were unimportant. Many men apparently craved the teenage figure of
well-formed breasts and unformed, childishly narrow hips.
"You cannot be good," a girl replied. "You heard what Mistress
Persephone said, 'It is a difficult and rigorous program.' That means
they make you do things that are impossible, like carrying too many
china dishes or something, in 6-inch-heels, ensuring that you drop them
and they break. Then they get to spank you."
"That would be easy," the older girl said. "Trust me,
spankings here aren't the half of it. This place is equipped with every
conceivable implement."
"What do you think they are doing to the boys?" a girl asked
cheerily. The conversation shifted to intense, ardent speculation about
the boy's tortures. What the girls might face was quickly disregarded.
I called Julie aside.
"We've got to get out of here," I hissed.
"Don't you like it here?" Julie asked, doe-eyed. The willing
wife was docilely listening to her fellow females, as if at some
neighborhood coffee klatch.
"Helga is just using us to meet new clients. Didn't you notice
that all the other girls were enrolled by their husbands or boyfriends?"
"I'm sure we'd learn something here," Julie said.
"Yes, with your bottom!"
"So you don't like Helga anymore?" Julie turned and looked
conspiratorily over her shoulder before speaking.
"No. I at least am going to escape and if you're smart you'll
come with me."
"If we're caught we'll have hell to pay. From Helga as well as
Mistress Persephone."
"They won't expect it this soon," I said, reflected a moment
and added, "I hope."
"We have no clothes, just these silly uniforms. No money
either. Just our little pouch purses, with our compacts and some french
lipstick inside."
"I know. It's practically hopeless. But I'm going to try. I
surveyed the place while we were standing and marching around outside."
"If it fails I guess we'll just get what's coming to us
anyway," Julie said in a dejected tone.
"Yes," I said. "After lights out, we'll get up to go to the
bathroom." Julie nodded silently.
"Lights out!" Mistress Persephone yelled suddenly, from the
doorway. We'd undressed already, and now scrambled naked into bed, each
of us assigned an Army cot.
Suddenly I felt a rush of fear that gripped me to my very
bowels. The mistress strode up the walkway between the beds, peering
ominously about in the now darkened room. But it wasn't her that gave
me such a terrible scare. Two young men swaggered behind her, armed
with night sticks. I only needed to see their outlines against the lit
hallway beyond to realize they were the very boys who'd accosted us on
the Concorde! Somehow, their pick-up lines had finally clicked, with no
less than Mistress Persephone! Did Helga know of this?
Our female warden glared at each of us in turn. I pretended to
be asleep.
"Ah, Mistress Predieu," she said, stopping at my place and
bending over me. "How quickly you fall asleep," she said menacingly. I
shuddered, my eyes still closed. "If you're so well rested I'm sure
you'll want to demonstrate to the group tomorrow morning how to properly
take a good caning...from Jim and Steve." Horror shot down my spine.
To my disgust, Mistress Persephone then leaned over and kissed me fully
on the mouth. Boldly, I snored loudly in response. She rose angrily
and walked on. A girl giggled and the mistress turned on her, promising
retribution.
"Is she just playing a role or does she really mean it?" Julie
asked me softly later in the bathroom.
"I don't think it matters, especially with Jim and Steve
around," I said. Julie shivered, agreed. I was busy trying to jimmy
open a window, standing barefoot on an iron heater. Thankfully, the
heater was turned off for the summer.
"Can I help?" Julie asked.
"Yes. Be quiet."
"Okay."
I broke into a sweat, scared to death that we'd be discovered.
At least once we were outside we'd have a fighting chance. In here we
were at the mercy of fate, at the mercy of the bowels and bladders of
the other girls. I knew we didn't have too long before one of them
awoke. Girls were famous for bladders the size of peanuts.
"There, there!" I said finally. "I've got it." I swung the
window open. It creaked. This was an old French building, built during
the first war to house troops. (This had all been explained to us
during the mistress's introductory lecture, after which we'd marched and
had a cafeteria-style meal in the mess hall.)
"Push on my bottom," I hissed.
"What?"
"I can't pull myself up," I said, grasping the window sill and
struggling to do one half-pullup. Suddenly Julie understood and cupped
my bare bottom and shoved. Up I went, nearly toppling out the window.
I sat listening to the night air, squatting on the sill. Not a
sound, save some distant hooting, hooting. An owl circling, somewhere,
yearning for small warm prey. A neatly clipped lawn stretched out from
our building, met thirty feet away with a low stone wall. Nothing Julie
and I couldn't climb over. Maybe they taught the girls here to love
their punishments, so they had no desire to leave.
Beyond the wall lay a ghostly spread of birches, intermingled
with oak and cherry. And then the road. A narrow country road, lightly
traveled, but our only hope of freedom.
"Okay," I whispered to Julie, leaning back. "Give me your hand
and I'll pull you up." She scrambled onto the radiator and I helped her
up onto the sill, which was barely wide enough to accommodate us both.
"Try not to look down," I said, as she caught a dizzying view
of the ground from the second floor.
"We'll break our bones!" she cried.
"Shh! See that tree limb? We can step down onto it."
"Oh. Yeah. Lucky for us it's there. Do you think it's strong
enough to hold us?"
"If it isn't I'm dead. Did you stuff your heels into your
purse?"
"Yes." She showed me her purse with the heels sticking out of
it. (Fortunately we'd been assigned pumps for evening wear, along with
our jackboots for marching.)
"Alright. I'm going." I wondered if the limb had been left
there to encourage just such an escape. I stepped down easily onto it
and made my way down it to the tree's trunk, holding on to a limb above
me as I went. Julie followed. No doubt this tree would be well-watched
in the ensuing days, once the punishments had begun. I shimmied down
the trunk, using the occasional branch as a step. I wore my uniform,
sans boots, with the jacket closed over my breasts. (This meant that
the collar had to be left open. The jacket was too small for the entire
front to be closed.)
I leapt down onto the ground and immediately went into a
crouch. A searchlight nearby swung in the night sky, no doubt from
somewhere on the campus. Julie plopped down beside me.
"Okay," I said, pointing. "We go over to that stone wall
there. The rocks are big enough that we can get a hold with our feet
and climb it. It's not too tall, anyway. It must be used mainly to
keep people from seeing in. Follow me. Keep down."
We rushed across the lawn in a stoop. I grasped the rocks of
the wall, stepped up, and found the top. Another step and Julie
followed. As I mounted the wall I spotted trouble. A dog was bounding
around the side of the building, towards us!
"Hurry!" I cried softly as Julie bumbled up behind me. She was
not much of an athlete, except in the bedroom. Her womanly figure
slowed her down. I was still a lean teen.
The dog gamboled up, rose on its hind legs and sniffed Julie's
bottom. Julie lurched and nearly fell backward onto the grass.
"C'mon!" I urged. Julie batted at the dog.
"That dog's nose is wet!"
"Didn't your mother tell you to keep your panties on?"
"I don't have any panties! Neither do you!"
She topped the wall. The dog began barking loudly. As we
jumped down I caught a glimpse of two burly young men rounding the
building to check on the dog. No doubt about it, they were Jim and
Steve! They, at least, were as alert as the owl. With a sinking
feeling I realized their desire to get their hands on us had probably
kept them wide awake.
With a growing sense of urgency and desperation we dropped to
the grass. The vale of birch trees lay before us, and beyond that the
road. We were fortunate to be so far outside Paris, since we were
wearing only our little hats and jackets, but unfortunate in that we
couldn't instantly mingle with the swirls of crowds in the city. I
prayed to God some country bumpkin would come along, someone whom we
could induce to give us a ride.
We raced into the trees as a siren blared out behind us. Twin
flashlights peered into the night. Jim and Steve topped the wall.
Their lights caught our flashing legs and pale bottoms. We were twin
moons disappearing into the night, amongst the birches. They called out
but we ignored them. I prayed they'd prove slow runners, as slow as
they were dim-witted.
A pair of headlights appeared on the road. Gasping, we reached
the strip of asphalt. Like some apparition we appeared before the
lights of a big old 1950's Ford pick-up truck. It shimmied and wheezed
toward us. An odor of pig dung wafted out before it.
"We can't be that naughty, God," I said. "But poor luck is
better than bad."
"God save me!" Julie wheezed. The accomplished young wife was
caught between piggish boys and the real thing. Her big breasts
juddered in the moonlight. Behind us Jim and Steve shouted and I heard
their approaching footfalls. Their flashlights wove aimlessly but ever
nearer through the trees, as they headed towards us.
Creaking, the truck slowed to a gentle stop. High pitched
squeals erupted from the bed.
"Can I hep you gals?" a voice called out. "Need a lift to
tomorry's Pig Show in Trent?" Not waiting to answer I tried the side
door of his cab and it opened. I scrambled up inside the vehicle,
turned, and pulled Julie within.
"Are you girls real?" the driver asked, eyes popping, seeing us
clearly for the first time. Fumbling, he pulled out a pair of plastic
military-issue glasses and shoved them on his face. He gaped, gasped,
made to rub himself, then yanked his hand reluctantly away,
embarrassed. He was a man, unshaven, of about 25 or 30. He was dressed
like a farmer. Noisily he sucked on a toothpick set between his
yellowed teeth. Our savior. Our Prince Galahad. If he could ever quit
staring.
"Hit it!" I ordered. Of course he didn't move. He was shocked
beyond belief. I reached over and jammed my foot down hard on what I
hoped was the gas pedal.
"Ouch!" the man cried as the old heap lurched forward.
Somewhere in back half a dozen prize pigs went sprawling. Amazingly,
the Ford gained speed quickly. Behind us our pursuers dashed up onto
the road.
"You girls ain't nice. I don't like you!" the man said.
Quickly I grabbed his face and kissed him on the cheek.
"We're angels," I said. "God has sent us to reward you for
being such a good person."
"Really?" he asked, astonished.
"Keep your eyes on the road." I turned to Julie. "Shut the
door."
"Huh?"
"Shut the fucking door, you idiot. You want us to fall out?"
"Oh yeah," she replied, and leaning precariously out swung shut
the side door.
"Drive fast, really fast, but don't crash this thing," I
ordered the farmer.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. Then, looking over at me, "Is that
what I should say? I don' properly know how to address a angel."
I peered ahead, saying nothing. He looked down at our pussies.
"You two sure are purty for a pair of angels. Mebee I should
kill myself."
Just then I noticed headlights in the gloom behind us, through
the rearview mirror.
"We're in trouble," I said to Julie.
"In trouble?" our driver gasped. "How can angels--"
"Satan is following us," I said, making the sentence up even as
I spoke it. "He's following us. He doesn't want us doing good here on
earth."
"Satan--?!" the credulous farmer gasped. "Satan hisself? But
won't God protect you?"
"It's up to you, Superman," I said, finding his foot and
pressing my heel down upon it. The truck shot forward, faster.
"I cain't drive this fast, Satan or no--" the man cried, eyes
wide. He broke into a sweat. We weaved haplessly between overhanging
trees. They looked like castaways from EuroDisney's haunted mansion.
The lights in the rearview mirror drew nearer.
"These people don't fool around," I gasped, truly frightened
now. I glanced at the farmer. This bumpkin was going to get our
bottoms flayed to the bone, or worse. I made a quick, remorseless
decision.
A moment later our savior went flying out the door of his
truck, shoved out by me.
"Sorry, wrong person! Not good enough!" I called after him. I
slammed the door and couldn't help laughing. It eased the tension. But
our pursuers were closing in.
"Why do you suppose he spoke English?" Julie, ever the airhead,
asked. Her wits only seemed truly to be about her when she was playing
the Domme.
"I don't know. Lucky for us he did."
"Where are we going?"
"How the hell should I know? To Macy's."
"Yes, we should stop there first," she agreed. "We need
clothes." I glared at Julie but said nothing. She noticed the lights
then, and looked back.
"Who's following us?"
"The fairy godmother, stupid."
"Oh yeah. Those nasty people from the school! Drive faster!"
The engine screamed. It hadn't hit this speed in years. Under
my breath I urged it on. I wished I could promise it a blowjob.
A gunshot rang out. Julie screamed and ducked.
"They're aiming for the tires, I'm sure," I shouted. "They
don't want any dead girls on their hands."
"We could--could shoot back," Julie offered, now crouching in
the footwell in front of her seat. For once, I thought, you've got a
bright idea. I turned and, sure enough, there was a shotgun hung inside
our rear window.
"See if that thing's loaded," I said, pointing.
"I've never handled a gun before," Julie said, still crouching.
"If you value your ass you will now." Julie reached up and
gingerly took the gun.
"Is it loaded?"
"How should I know?"
"Here, stuff some kleenex in your ears," I said, pulling my
heels from my purse and fetching a wad of the stuff. I jammed some in
my ears. Julie took a wad herself and stuffed her ears.
"I hear these things are loud."
"Yeah. Stick it out the window. Keep it as far away from your
face as you can. There's no need to aim. We can probably scare them
off. They're probably worried as heck that we're going to crash this
thing and kill ourselves."
"Okay," Julie gasped, sticking her neck out and then her
shoulders, struggling with the gun. I glanced over at her. "Moll
Julie" was about to show our guests where they could stick themselves.
BLOOM! Pigs squealed and cowered at the sound.
"It's loaded!" Julie cried happily. The car behind us slowed.
For the first time I saw that it was a black limo. No doubt in my mind
now that we were dealing with the "school."
"Fire again!" I shouted. It was working. But smoke began
rising from the hood of our car.
KA-BLOOM! The gun was rusty, choking. I couldn't trust it to
deliver a third round without taking part of Julie's face with it.
"It's getting hot!" Julie cried of the weapon.
"Hang onto it for a sec." Our pursuers drew back. I rounded a
curve. "Chuck it!"
With relief Julie tossed the gun into the woods. She leaned
back inside.
"That's all its got," I said. "But thank God it had two rounds
left to it."
"I was afraid of it, really afraid," Julie gasped, her hand at
her throat. "What do we do now?" She had her jacket buttoned in the
regulation manner, with her boobies sticking out. I laughed to myself.
It was the first time I'd noticed it.
"We're going to become bandits," I said. "Sound fun?" I eased
back on the gas pedal, hoping the strain on the engine would ease.
"I can't see them anymore," Julie said, gazing into the forest
behind us.
"Thank God. They're not criminals, I guess. But they do have
a zealous mistress running the place."
"Do you think they'll be looking for us tomorrow morning?
Calling the police?"
"I don't know. The age of consent laws are more liberal here.
Still, I doubt they'd call up the cops and say 'Two girls have escaped
from our boarding school and we need them back so we can whip them.'"
"What do you mean we've got to be bandits?" she asked. I
looked directly at her tits. "Oh, yeah," she said. "Need clothes. No
money."
We tooled through the light of a newly risen moon as the forest
thinned out and faded behind us. Fields sprang up on either side.
Corn, neck high, bordered by fences. In the bed of the truck the pigs
shuffled about in their wire cages and settled down. Well, we had food
anyway. Nah.
I found a darkened country store and pulled in behind it.
"With luck this will be the only place we need to hit," I
whispered. I couldn't decide whether to let the truck run or turn it
off. It was extremely noisy. Finally I stopped the motor. Hopefully
it would start again.
I leapt down. Quietly I approached the store. Julie
followed. There seemed to be no one around. Seeing a shed I
instinctively tried the handle. It opened. I searched about, tripping
over buckets, rakes. Then I found what I knew I'd need. Thank God for
eight hours of television viewing per day. I dragged a sledgehammer out
of the shed.
"The back door's locked," Julie called out. "Should I go
around and try the front?" Grunting, I lifted the heavy hammer and
walked it over to her.
"Get out of the way," I said, sweating. Struggling I lifted
the hammer and let it fall. With a crash I broke the door handle off.
Julie leapt back, fearful for her toes. I kicked in the door. I felt
strange, sexy. We were wearing our heels now. I didn't need to get any
dirtier than I already had. I brushed spider webs off me from the shed.
"Okay," I said. "Make it quick. Grab anything that looks
fashionable, food too. I'll try the register." I dragged the hammer
through the store. Lifting the hammer once more, I crashed it down onto
the cash register. Instantly an alarm went off. In the distance a dog
began barking. I popped open the ruined register and found a modest
amount of bills and coins inside. I made to stuff them into my pockets
and found I had none. The ones on my jacket were merely decorative.
I scrabbled around for a paper bag and found one. I stuffed
our loot inside it. Julie had a clutch of clothes in her hands. I
grabbed a Twinkie and stuffed it between my teeth. Its cellophane
wrapping glowed merrily, seemingly illuminating my features with
reflected moonlight.
"Okay, let's go," I hissed. We turned and ran from the store.
In the truck I found the engine as obstinate as ever. Finally
it started. We coughed out of the parking lot, the truck shivering from
side to side as the tormented engine struggled to give us one last
drive.
"This is the scenic route," I said, turning into a grove of
trees, away from our forest road that had now become a main road.
"I hope it doesn't dead end."
"I hope it doesn't lead directly to the house of the people who
own the store."
***
In the early light of morning we wheezed into Paris. I got
Julie to button her jacket so that we wouldn't be so obvious to our
fellow drivers. We'd pulled some jeans on from the store. We still
hadn't any panties.
"We'll have to find a room," I said.
"I hope we've got enough," Julie said, sorting through the
bills, straightening them.
"You'll have to be the one to go inside," I said, pulling into
the parking lot of what looked like a suitable place. "I look too
young."
"Okay," Julie agreed.
"I'll leave the engine running."
She walked inside, her too tight jeans giving her bottom a
deliciously snug look. Her hips swayed as sexily as ever. Julie was
unconscious, of course, of her alluring manner, having been extremely
beautiful all her life. She was a natural, a natural sex goddess. I
wished we didn't look so much like the stuff of men's fantasies.
"Okay," Julie said, returning a moment later. "I got a
discount." A man peered delightedly from the motel office window.
I parked the car at the end of the motel, behind the building,
seemingly under a tree to give it shade, but really to hide it. We
walked our few (stolen) possessions up to our room and let ourselves
inside.
30
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