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                                        Andrew Roller Presents
                                   NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                       in
                                        The Kiss of the Whip

                                              Chapter One

         It is in a country far away.  Few travelers go there, even in these 
modern times.  It was once steeped in ignorance and backwardness, ruled 
over by counts and countesses who cared little for their subjects, except 
for that labor or pleasure which the populace might provide.  Today the 
closest airport is 200 miles away.  Beyond that there is mostly forest, 
with scattered villages.  A road straggles through the countryside.  Hills 
give way to larger hills and finally to mountains.  High up in one of the 
ranges a castle sits.  It served as a youth hostel after the war but 
received so few visitors that it was finally sold.  Today, in discreet 
brochures, the lady of the house advertises for visitors.  Now and then a 
few take her up on her offer.
         Duchess Amoress surveyed the group.  Always the thing that struck 
her at these first meetings was the apparent innocence of the 
participants.  Whatever their reasons for responding to her 
advertisements, they always arrived half disbelieving, she thought, what 
they were getting themselves into.  They gazed now at herself and at one 
another, a great fire roaring in the hearth, the wine and canapes liberally 
distributed.  There was Genevieve, the airline stewardess, and the 40-
year-old airline pilot who had brought her.  He had grey at his temples, 
was married, Duchess suspected, with children.  Perhaps his marriage had 
soured or he was rebelling against the onset of middle age.  Genevieve was 
his ticket back to his youth, innocent in the extreme, just 18, a girl who 
had left school early and lied about her age to fly with the airlines, 
Duchess imagined.  Someone should have told her ÔnoÕ, sent her back to high 
school, but with her lovely brought hair and deep brown artless eyes, who 
could refuse?  Now she had met someone Duchess regarded as little more 
than a predator, but who was she to judge?  No, she did not judge.  She had 
made a similar mistake in her own youth, learned from it, and had not the 
lessons accumulated in her inheritance, from a man twice her age, now 
dead, resulted in her owning this estate?  Here she could indulge herself 
at her leisure, and it was because of the errors of her youth.  So let 
Genevieve make the same errors.  With luck things might turn out as well 
for her as they had for Duchess or, as she called herself, Jane.  But she 
rarely called herself that anymore.  The visitors always seemed to want a 
kind of authority to their adventures, a sense that in letting themselves 
go they were not abandoning all sense.  So she was Duchess to them, not 
Jane.  Everyone called her Duchess and even she had taken to giving herself 
the appelation in her private moments, such as the one she was enjoying 
now, not speaking, in front of her guests, gazing at each one, up and down, 
as they, like young guileless infants, looked each other over in turn.
         There was Lynn, a blonde with a tender quality to her eyes and 
mouth.  Her features were very sensitive, as delicate as fine china, 
Duchess thought.  She had long straight blonde hair, in contrast to the 
slight curled quality of GenevieveÕs.  Lynn had a look of experience about 
her too, a kind of brattish quality, troublesome and perhaps with a taste 
for the perverse.  Duchess smiled.  The girl had come to the right place.  In 
contrast to Genevieve she would have no qualms to giving this young 
saucepot what she deserved.  Her delicate frame and features would not 
dissuade her.  And she would ensure that it would not dissuade the other 
guests as well.
         Lynn came with Jacob.  He was an ex-football player.  He had been 
moderately famous once, although his pay packet outran his actual 
abilities on the field.  Now he was in retirement.  At 27 he still had a 
bull-like youth about him.  He seemed pent up, his strong physique 
straining at his tailored suit.  Duchess smiled.  Why did the prettiest most 
delicate girls always go for the toughest men?  Well, Duchess would see 
whether Lynn could really live with her choice, once Jacob was truly 
liberated from his suit and societyÕs restraints.
         Duchess listened to the sound of the wind out beyond the wall to her 
back, through the glass pane that was closed behind her but which could 
not keep out the rising noise of the gale outside.  A storm was coming, 
Duchess guessed, from her long years on the mountain.  Her guests were 
lucky to have all arrived.  She looked at Ed.  He was the youngest of the 
group, a young college student who had asked if he could hike up to the 
place.  She had told him ÔnoÕ, insisted on his renting a car and driving.  It 
was now parked safely in her large garage, she was glad he was not trying 
to camp out somewhere on the mountain, a day delayed, despite his best 
intentions, as she had experienced some years ago when she had let a 
college group try to hike up to her home.  Yes, he was safely ensconced on 
her couch, near her fire, talking animatedly to a young Asian girl sitting 
beside him.  She, like he, had come alone.  But while he had come for a 
sense of adventure she had been sent by a mistress.  She was a new 
Geisha, sent from Japan by a mistress-friend of the Duchess.  ÒTrain her, 
then send her back to me so I can make money with her,Ó the mistress had 
told Duchess.  The Danish woman didnÕt like taking the prostitutes.  It 
violated her sense of freedom.  But she had taken some, sent them back 
when they had finished with her ÒhospitalityÓ, as she liked to call it.  She 
looked at the Asian girl.  Wendy, she was to be called.  It was an 
American-sounding name the girl had chosen.  She had been poor but 
pretty.  Her family had sent her to the mistress on her 15th birthday.  Now 
she was 15 and two months, the youngest Duchess had ever been asked to 
train.  But despite her Japanese ancestry she had an ample bust, a 
generous if still childishly slim pair of hips, at the same time having a 
fetching innocence to her eyes, like Genevieve, and a fair porcelain quality 
to her skin, breakable in appearance, like the saucy Lynn.  She was too 
pretty for Duchess to turn away.  When she had seen the girlÕs  picture she 
had said ÔyesÕ, despite the girlÕs tender years.  Now here she sat, talking to 
Ed, the strong but innocent young college student, herself still in high 
school.  It was no so bad a match, Duchess thought.  But she would strive 
to be more careful with her, not asking so much, though already she 
guessed it was Genevieve who would receive the lightest treatment, being 
so endearingly artless.
         And then there was Mattiya.  She was dark-haired, her hair almost 
jet black.  She was 25, with Gypsie blood in her, Duchess surmised.  She 
claimed to have prior experience in such things as Duchess had planned.  
She had come alone.  She had expressed an interest on her application in 
all matters sexual, involving females as well as males.  Duchess felt she 
had her hands full with the Ôinnocent sixÕ, as she had newly taken to 
calling them.  Mattiya would be helpful as a dominatrix-in-training.  If, 
that is, she had as much experience as her application boasted.  Looking at 
her now, Duchess suspected the woman might have exaggerated a little.  
There was a certain bravura in her demeanor, boastful yet somehow 
guileless, like a certain young man she had known once, who claimed to be 
an expert fighter, but who, taking her out, and getting into a fight, lost.  
He knew some moves, some techniques, but it was not enough.  Duchess 
suspected Mattiya was the same, with her boastful Gypsie blood.  Better 
at talking the talk than at walking the walk.  Well, she would see soon 
enough what the slender busty dark-haired woman could take.
         Duchess put down her drink.  The sound of the glass touching the low 
coffee table in front of her somehow drew the eyes of the group.  Duchess, 
now in her 29th year, smiled and stroked back a loose strand from her 
pinned-up hair, that had fallen across her eyes.  She cleared her throat, 
quietly and softly.  She looked at the group gathered before her, taking 
them all in now with her bright friendly eyes and her quick smile.  Then 
with a more serious look coming over her face, she said, 
         ÒThank you for coming.  If you listen you can hear a storm rising 
outside.Ó  She paused.  She let them listen.  Nods confirmed her.  ÒIt is 
well we are all here,Ó she said.  ÒI would not want anyone caught out in 
the storms that sometimes settle in on this mountain.Ó  More nods.  She 
cleared her throat and went on.  ÒSince it is coming in this evening it 
should clear by Monday.  That is the general pattern of things.  So we are 
fortunate-- I doubt any of you will be unable to leave when you have to.Ó  
She paused, smiled.  ÒAs for the hours in the meantime, tonight and 
Saturday and Sunday, we will all be preoccupied, of course.Ó  She let that 
settle in a moment, watched the blushes, most of all on Genevieve, a little 
less on Wendy, despite her younger years, only a little on saucy Lynn, not 
at all on the self-confident Mattiya.  The men exchanged glances, but they 
were too excited to blush, except for a slight reddening in EdÕs cheeks.
         ÒI know a little about you, from your applications,Ó Duchess said.  
ÒAnd you are getting to know one another.Ó  She smiled.  ÒWe will all know 
each other much better by the end of the weekend.Ó  Blushes, mild nervous 
laughter among the group.  Mistress softly cleared her throat again, 
brushed back a strand of hair that had come loose once more.  ÒI do not 
wish for there to be any misunderstandings,Ó Duchess continued.  ÒWe are 
here for pleasure, pure and simple.  However pleasure must be leavened 
with another quality.  Do any of you know what it is?Ó  She cast her eyes 
over the group.  There were confused looks.  Even Mattiya, who opened her 
mouth to speak, did not actually say anything and shut her lips again.  ÒIt 
is pain,Ó Duchess went on, after a moment.  There were gasps, a knowing 
grin from Mattiya, a quick anxious glance by Genevieve at the man who had 
brought her.  ÒYes, pain,Ó Duchess said, letting the word sink in, watching 
how Wendy sank lower in her chair, seemingly trying to disappear into it, 
watching too how Lynn kept her composure, despite the obvious surprise in 
her eyes.  Duchess picked up her drink, sipped it, put it back down on the 
table in front of herself.  ÒWe will be experiencing both pleasure and pain 
in equal measure,Ó Duchess said to the group.  ÒAs you know the 
advertisement asked if you would be willing to break through to new 
sensual boundaries.  That is what is meant.  You all have boundaries now, 
what they are we will discover in the course of being together this 
weekend.  But by the end of the weekend we will have stretched and 
expanded your boundaries.  You will have been opened to new 
possibilities.Ó  She flashed a smile, her perfect lips showing her small 
polished white teeth, then grew serious again.  ÒTo help us achieve the 
necessary stretching of our horizons there will be certain rules.  Of 
course they will be strictly enforced,Ó she said.  ÒIn strictness there is 
freedom, as we will learn.  Always I will be the one who is in charge.  
Perhaps I will have an assistant you must obey, perhaps not,Ó Duchess 
said.  ÒBut for the weekend my word is law here,Ó Duchess said.  She 
pushed back a strand of hair from her eyes again.  ÒThis applies to the men 
as well as the women,Ó Duchess went on.  ÒI am not overly strong, no more 
so than the average woman.  Obviously you men could easily overpower me.  
Any one of you could do that.  So itÕs important that we establish from the 
beginning my unquestioned authority.  I expect you men to cooperate with 
me in that.  There are no second chances-- any real rebellion, especially 
from a man, will be dealt with immediately.  I am expecting you other men 
to help me in this.  We are all alone here.  There are no police within 
calling distance.  We must be our own police, at least until the storm 
lifts.  Of course in the villages you drove through to get here I have 
enormous influence.  Anyone who causes me difficulty can be reported to 
the proper authorities and prevented from leaving at the weekendÕs end.  
The country, I mean.  So do not test me.  Some misconduct on the part of 
the females might be expected but you men must always perform at my 
command, to keep good order in our little community.  Is that 
understood?Ó  She waited until sheÕd gotten nods from everyone.  The 40-
year-old pilot, Robert, was the last to nod.  As she expected he might be.  
When she had gotten the menÕs acquiescence, she went on:  ÒMy second 
rule, after requiring your obedience, is that clothing will be dispensed 
with.  We are here to test each other.  It can hardly be done all bundled up 
in suits and ties and dresses, no matter how well-tailored or pretty.  In a 
few moments I will be asking all of you to undress.  We will remain 
undressed for the weekendÕs duration.  From your photographs I have 
picked only those of you who are good-looking.  So there should be no 
complaints.  Others were turned away that we might enjoy one anotherÕs 
company, unharried by inferior physical specimens.  That is why I 
requested a swimsuit photo from each of you.  Thank you for obliging.  As 
you can see, by looking around, it was well worth it.  In my years here I 
have rarely seen a more perfect collection of people.Ó  She smiled.  
Always they liked the compliment.  They returned her grin, looking at each 
other, the males growing excited, by lumps evidenced in their pants, the 
females offering sweet winsome looks, the last bit of their modesty 
showing before she turned them loose on each other.  Excited eyes turned 
once more toward her.  She continued:  ÒYou will be pleased to know that 
your test results, that I asked you to submit to upon arrival, at the 
airport, have all been called in.  They are all negative,Ó she said.  ÒI 
realize you tested yourselves before leaving home but the additional test 
was necessary because, sad to say, people sometimes cheat.  However in 
your cases you all came clean.  There are no cheaters among us.Ó  She 
grinned.  They grinned back at her, a few sighing with relief.  ÒSo we have 
nothing to be afraid of, in each other,Ó Duchess said.  ÒWe are all disease 
free.  We may handle and manipulate each other to our heartÕs content.  It 
is difficult to find such partners.  We should relish the opportunity to be 
so free with one another,Ó she said.  ÒFinally,Ó she added.  ÒI am a 
religious woman.  So, as you know, all birth control devices are banned 
from the premises.  Each of you women will be pregnant at the weekendÕs 
end, God willing.  Of course on Monday morning RU-486 will be made 
available to you.  You will be able to terminate your pregnancies if you 
choose.  But more than one woman has decided to keep her baby, despite 
often not knowing who the father is for certain, as a memento of her stay 
here.  I recommend you do the same, but I cannot enforce that.  It is your 
choice, of course.  But until then we will enjoy pleasure for a purpose, 
stretching our horizons and at the same time engendering life within us, 
as God intended, so that we may be guilt-free during our stay here.Ó  She 
grinned again, showing the white of her teeth again, like a young blonde 
tigress, she thought, gazing into the eyes of the men and women arrayed 
before her.  ÒAnd now,Ó she said.  ÒWith your permission the moment has 
come.  We will undress.  And then we will have our first entertainment.Ó

30 excerpts below

Duchess Jane, 29, blonde
Genevieve-Claire cass, airline stew, 18, slight curl, brunette
Lynn- saucy blonde playmate, long straight hair
Wendy- nice tits, 15-year-old japan Geisha in training, sent by mistress
Mattiya, 25

Robert, 40, pilot, married w/ children
Jacob, 27, retired football player
Ed, college student, would-be hiker

30

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