Extract from: The Maidens of Quimsby Hall

 

Daphne and Lorna, both clad in skimpy red bikinis, were sprawled on large beach towels in the middle of a small, enclosed garden under the July sun.

The garden had paved paths about its sides and a square of grass in the middle. There were ornamental stone urns, mottled with moss and lichen, set out at the corners of the grass square. About the inside of its high, enclosing ivy-draped walls were flower beds and clumps of thick shrubbery, about which bees buzzed lazily. The garden's single solid green wooden gate was closed and bolted. Somewhere beyond it, pigeons were cooing.

Daphne rolled over onto her side and ran a thoughtful finger under the strap of her bikini top, then she looked at her companion with a mischievous grin.

'We don't need these, do we? I mean, nobody can see us out here.'

Lorna took off her sunglasses and grinned back. 'What, you mean sunbathe starkers?'

'Why not? No bikini lines. Get a real all over tan.'

Lorna giggled. 'Well... I will if you will!'

Daphne sat up and reached behind her and undid the strap of her top, freeing her full breasts.

'Now you!'

Lorna sat up and did the same, baring her breasts in turn.

Daphne gazed at them appreciatively for a moment, and then lay back and lifted her hips and wriggled her bikini bottom off.

'You're shameless, you are,' Lorna declared.

'Go on, you do it too. You said you would,' Daphne reminded her.

Lorna took a deep breath and the slipped off her bottom halves as well, so they were both totally naked. They started at each other with barely concealed fascination, feeling the mutual thrill of excitement and illicit arousal.

Daphne was nineteen and had a curvy 36D-23-36 figure. She had shoulder length brunette hair, a bright heart-shaped face with a high forehead, bold dark brows, brown eyes, a slightly tip-tilted nose, and a wide smile. Her softly rounded breasts were tipped with full brown nipples. She had a tight waist, fleshy buttocks, good legs, and a deeply furrowed, pouting pussy mound.

Lorna was the same age but had a leaner build, with a 35C-24-35 figure. She had collar length, curly, old-gold hair, a firm straight nose, level pale brows, direct green eyes, and mischievous lips. Her high-set, firm, neat breasts were capped by pale pink nipples. She had womanly but slender hips, deep cleft buttocks, slim, shapely legs, and a long pussy cleft with pouting inner labia.

Neither woman had any pubic hair, giving their exposed vulvas an innocent, girlish look.

Lorna realized that her nipples were standing up embarrassingly and quickly rolled over onto her front.

'Will you put some oil on my back?'

Daphne smiled and picked up the bottle of oil and poured a little into her hand. Then she straddled Lorna's smooth thighs and began working it into her back. Lorna wiggled happily. Daphne's hands slid down over her hips and then the upper slopes of Lorna's buttocks. The smooth fleshy hemispheres flowed and distended under her touch, and she felt her own nipples throbbing hard. Then she slid an exploratory finger into the hot humid cleft between them.

'Hey, where are you going?' Lorna said.

'Do you want me to stop? It doesn't hurt, does it?'

'No... it's just... naughty.'

'Nobody can see us,' Daphne reminded her.

'I know that. But it just feels a bit... odd.'

Daphne slid her hand deeper between Lorna's thighs and the other woman shivered.

'Bad odd or good odd?'

'Ohhhh... maybe... good odd.'

'Want me to do your front?'

'Oh yes!'

And Daphne got off her so Lorna could roll over onto her back. Daphne straddled her again and they smiled foolishly at each other. Daphne put more oil onto her hand and began massaging Lorna's upper chest. Gradually her hands slid down to cup and squeeze and roll her breasts together. Lorna moaned in delight.

'I can feel your nips are hard,' Daphne said.

'And I can see yours are to...' Lorna sighed.

Daphne's hands slid down Lorna's flat stomach and into her groin.

'What about down here?' she asked, toying with the little bud of flesh swelling at the top of Lorna's hairless cleft. 'That's not hard is it... oh, yes, it is. And wet. Seems like its oiling itself...'

Lorna moaned and bit her lip and took hold of Daphne's wrist and pulled her hand harder up into her cleft.

'I think I want to be really naughty,' Lorna confessed huskily.

Feeling a thrill of excitement, Daphne bent down over her. Their hot bare breasts met and flattened and slid across each other. Then their lips touched and parted and they kissed hungrily, their tongues twining about each other. For a minute, Daphne squirmed excitedly about on top of Lorna's slippery oiled body. Then she turned herself about, kneeling on either side of Lorna's head, spreading her thighs and grinding her pussy into her face, while she dipped her own head between Lorna's thighs, which lifted and parted before her, opening the way to her lovely smooth, pouting pussy cleft.

In the background the bees seem to buzz more fiercely, not quite drowning out a sudden flurry of whirs and clicking sounds.

Lorna and Daphne heard none of this. By now they were completely engrossed in the intense desire that had overwhelmed them as they made passionate love. Their heads were buried between each other's thighs as they explored the hot wet slippery scented depths of their pussy clefts with their probing tongues and sucking lips and nipping teeth. They were moaning and gasping and grunting as they ground and slithered about. Their mingled expressions of delight filled the little garden.

'Oh... ahhhh... oh.. yes... yes ... please.... ohhhh...'

A great surge of raw lust suddenly erupted from their loins in the form of misty sprays of expelled juices that drenched their faces as explosive orgasms tore through them and merged and then slowly faded away.

Happily drained they lay slumped across each other head to toe; flesh to flesh, lost in their own world of mutual post orgasmic content.

Everything was perfect...

Two men burst out of the cover of the shrubbery and sprinted across the lawn towards them.

They were dressed in t-shirts and shorts with stiff cocks jutting out of their flies which bounced and wagged as they ran. Their faces could not be seen as their heads and shoulders were covered in black fabric hoods, exposing only their eyes and mouths. Incongruously, they had cardboard badges pinned to their shirts, bearing the names: Sir Galahad and Brutus.

Before Daphne and Lorna had a chance to move the men were upon them. Galahad grabbed Daphne by her hair and pulled her off Lorna and onto her knees with her head twisted back, while Brutus pulled Lorna onto her knees so that they faced each other. Daphne and Lorna screamed and struggled feebly, but the men cuffed them into trembling silence.

'So, you're a pair of lezzies, are you?' Galahad said accusingly.

'Yeah, they're real pussy gobblers!' Brutus agreed.

They pushed the two women together and rubbing their lips against each other and then down their bodies and across their breasts. Galahad pulled Daphne down flat on her back and shoved her legs apart and Brutus pushed Lorna's head into her slippery groin.

'Think that's good, do you?' Brutus asked. 'Maybe you haven't had a real man inside you yet?'

Then they pulled the women back up onto their knees and twisted them round and rubbed their faces into their own stiff penises.

'That's what women like you need inside them - good hard cocks!' Galahad declared.

'No... please... let us go...' Daphne and Lorna gasped.

With their free hands the men picked up the women's discarded bikini bottoms, balled them up and then pressed them into their mouths, stifling their moans and whimpers of protest. Pulling ready-looped rubber straps from the pockets of their shorts, they twisted the women's arms behind their backs and bound their wrists together. Then they pulled longer lengths of looped strap out of their pockets and put them over the women's heads and drew them tight, forming crude leashes. Using them they dragged them across the grass to a pair of adjacent stone urns.

They bent Daphne and Lorna face forward across them and pulled the ends of their leashes down and tied them around the tapered bases of the urns. Now the two women could not stand up straight, with the tops of the urns pressed into their stomachs and their bare bottoms jutting outwards as they wriggled and squirmed.

The men stood back and admired their helpless captives for moment. Then they smacked their bare buttock cheeks until they jumped and shivered and began to turn red. Daphne and Lorna wailed and sobbed as tears sprang to their eyes. The men's jutting, straining cocks twitched with need.

Stepping up between their wriggling legs and taking hold of Daphne and Lorna's hips, they rammed their shafts deep up into their slippery wet pussy slots.

The women bit on their bikini bottom gags they were penetrated.

Consumed with desperate lust, the men pounded into them, grinding their hips and stomachs across the ancient stone of the urns. And with each powerful thrust, a strange thing happened. Daphne and Lorna's fear and revulsion melted to elicit pleasure. Their sheaths began to squeeze on the pumping shafts inside them and their hips began to push back against the men's thrusts. The nipples on their breasts, hanging over the sides of the urns, were standing up so hard that it seemed they were about to burst.

The men grunted and spouted inside their hot, wet, clinging vaginas. And despite having climaxed not long before, the girls felt their loins surge as they came in return. It was all wonderful and shocking and briefly they neither knew nor cared about anything else.

Dimly they were aware of Brutus and Sir Galahad pulling out of them, and their passages slurping embarrassingly, and the men wiping their soiled cocks across their sore bottoms. And then they retreated out of sight. They seemed to hear other rustlings amongst the shrubbery and more footsteps, and the garden gate opened and closed.

Then they were alone, bound and naked, with juices and sperm dripping out of their ravaged pussies down their thighs.

They twisted their heads round and looked each other through bleary eyes and wondered once again what they had got themselves into, and how they could survive it.

A minute later the gate opened again and somebody new entered the garden. It was a lean, bronzed woman in her late thirties dressed in shorts and a safari hat and jacket, with an electric prod and a small pouch hung on her belt. She was carrying a large holdall.

It was Miss Heggerty, their keeper for the day.

Briskly she walked up to them and examined the mess the men had left behind.

'They had a fine time with you, didn't they? Soon fix that...'

She pulled a bucket out of her bag and placed it between Lorna's thighs. Then she took out a large brass garden syringe, filled it from a bottle of dilute disinfectant, and used it to flush her pussy out. She repeated the process with Daphne. Then she un-bound them from the urns. Stiffly they straightened up and pulled their bikini bottom gags out. Then they stood with their legs apart and fingers clasped behind their necks.

Miss Heggerty wiped them down with sponges soaked in more diluted disinfectant and then towelled them off and combed their mussed hair. Then she gave them a drink from a water bottle with a grotesque pink rubber spout moulded in the shape of a penis. They sucked on it with automatic vigour.

'You have half an hour to rest before your next performance,' she told them as they put their bikinis back on. 'Perhaps you can lift your bottoms up in the air a little more while you're coupling. And roll over a few times so the guests can see more of you.'

'Yes, Miss Heggerty,' they said meekly.

'Do you need some more gingering up?'

They looked at each other, assessing how tired they were, and nodded. 'Yes please, Miss Hegarty,' they said.

'You know what to do...'

They went down on their knees with their thighs spread and arms folded behind them.

'Please, Miss Heggerty, will you give us some Quimcake?' they asked meekly.

And they opened their mouths wide and stuck their tongues out in a begging posture.

From the pouch hung on her belt, Miss Heggerty took out a couple of cubes of dark cake that she put on their tongues. The heady smell of ginger filled their nostrils. They gulped the portions of cake down with delight, feeling the familiar warm tingle flowing through them.

Daphne remembered her first taste of that cake a few weeks earlier...