Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

Shaking her head in wonderment, but not as yet inclined to partake of anything she had observed, Honey reached a carpeted staircase and climbed it. At its top she found a large room filled with medieval torture devices. Flickering torches cast a gloomy light over the damp brick walls, revealing a number of naked, heated bodies in various stages of orgasmic delight. One fat man who looked like a judge was laughing loudly while being birched repeatedly by a tiny woman who swung the thin stick with enthusiasm. Another man was being fist-fucked by an aggressive young woman, and still another man had his cock wrapped in leather thongs tied to a revolving wheel, which was pulling him off. The ecstatic grin on his face assured Honey that he too was enjoying the hell out of his “torture.” One woman was hanging from the ceiling by her heels in leather stirrups, and she was blowing a man lying beneath her on a large block of ice. A guy with overdeveloped muscles, like a Greek statue come to life, was beckoning to Honey, his small hard cock bobbing at her.

Entranced by his welcoming smile as well as his body, she sashayed over to him and he pointed to an oddly designed leather sling chair hanging from the ceiling on slender silver chains. Definitely curious, and remembering that she was being tested by Nadez, Honey clambered into the contraption, which had a hole in it for her ass and vagina to hang down. The cool leather sling was more comfortable than it looked, and she was just adjusting her position when it rose in the air, lifting her upright, her sexual organs swaying in the breeze. Below her on a small table, the body-builder lay on his back, holding his dinky dork upright. Slowly she was lowered over him until she felt his tiny tool enter her wide-open pussy.

Gradually the sling chair began to swing in a slow circle, revolving her around on the muscleman’s meat. The sensation was so unique, to be floating in the air while being serviced, that she began to feel her labia moistening with joy juice. The guy’s dick may have been small, but it was positioned perfectly; each revolution of her cunt brought his cock in contact with her clitoris, raising the temperature of her pussy to unbelievable heights. Hanging on to the chains holding her sling chair, she swung around and around, feeling dizzy not only from the constant circular motion, but also from the lusts raging in her furnace. Abandoning herself to the absolute bliss of the moment, she threw back her head and hung on, her eyes closing with rapture.

The intensely pleasurable agony kept building within her, and she longed to be free to jump up and down on his deliciously delicate dork. But she was a captured prize and could only hang on for the duration of the funhouse ride. Each maddening slow revolution inched her closer to climax, and the exquisite sensation soared her higher and higher. Just when she thought she would go insane from the intensity of the experience, she suddenly reached her longed-for goal. Shrieking her relief and delight, she began to come, whirling round and around, flooding the budlike head of the small prick embedded in her.

She was not released from the confining leather sling until after the muscleman had also climaxed with a healthy spurt. Shaking dizzily, she climbed out of the sporting chair and kissed the man gratefully. She staggered out of the room and walked directly into a large, darkened orgy room carpeted with writhing bodies.

Drained but still game, Honey piled onto the amorphous mass of flesh and soon felt greedy, wet mouths on every part of her body, as well as exploring fingers and toes. Hard pricks pushed into her soft skin everywhere, and she found new energy coursing through her aroused system. Latching on to the first available pussy, she began eagerly to suck at the tender lips. In no time her liquids were flowing again, and she longed for one of the hardened cocks to be inside her. Almost at once her wish was granted twofold. One shoved into her pulsating pussy, another inched into her anus. A different mouth was chewing on each of her breasts, and her own mouth was eating the tasty cunt hovering over her face. Honey’s sensual circuits were soon overloaded. She felt as if she were one large orifice, filled to overflowing with an immensely enjoyable ardor.

She had no idea how long she had been indulging her desires, but when she finally managed to extricate herself and stumble out of the room, she caught a glimpse of the rising sun through a leaded-glass window. Sweet exhaustion blanketed her as she showered in still another area. Emerging from the drying area, she was pleased to see a smiling Nadezlida Filaretovna standing like the Rock of Gibraltar before her.

“My apologies, Miss Wildon, for not trusting you,” the madame said jovially. “You are a true connoisseur of kink. Come with me, please.”

Bolstered by the praise, Honey followed her down the stairs into a private dressing room, where her own clothes were neatly hung. As Honey pulled on her dress, Nadez lit a cigar and puffed thoughtfully. “You ask after Henri Bouscaral,” she began in her thick Russian accent. “What is it you wish to know?”

“Merely where I might find him,” Honey said breathlessly. “I only want to help the girl, not bring any harm to him.”

Nadez nodded silently and blew a ring of smoke in her direction. “I have no idea where the Prince of Kink is. But perhaps I can tell you where you might eventually find him. There are two things I know he has on his schedule of worldwide pursuits, two areas he has often mentioned that he would like to experience.”

“Any clue would be a help, Nadez.”

“The first is a trio of Chinese acrobats in Shanghai, a set of triplets widely known for their sexual athletics. I only know them by name-the Mee-Lan triplets.”

Honey quickly made a mental note and stepped into her heels. “And the second possibility?”

“Henri often said he wanted to partake of this year’s debauching of the Sisters of the Moon,” the madame replied. “A strange order of nuns whose convent is in the mountains outside of Sofia, Bulgaria.”

“When does this debauching take place?”

“Every ten years, on the first full moon of May.”

“Why, that’s in less than a week,” Honey exclaimed, and spontaneously kissed a plump cheek of the Queen of Kink. “Thank you, Nadez. I thoroughly enjoyed my evening at your establishment.”

The mountain of womanhood laughed heartily. “ That was most obvious. I never saw a newcomer get into the swing of things with so much enthusiasm. Please, come again. You are welcome anytime, my beauty.”

Nervously she patted her cheeks, making certain the false beard and mustache were firmly in place. Hiking up the belly pad that helped transform her decidedly feminine body into a closer facsimile of a man’s, Honey joined the line of men on the rocky path. The chartered bus from Sofia had just dropped them off at the end of the state road. Now the rest of the journey was to be on foot. As the winding path was steep and treacherous, Honey was glad she’d been able to locate a pair of sturdy walking shoes in her size.

The boisterous pilgrims soon quieted down as the trek up the heavily wooded mountainside became more arduous. Soon they were strung out single file, with Honey laboring near the tail end, just in front of the more elderly men. She was dressed in baggy old clothes she’d purchased that very morning in Bulgaria’s capitol city of Sofia: a large checked sports coat worn over a garishly patterned Hawaiian shirt and plaid wool pants. On her head she wore a floppy slouch hat, her hair tied up with a scarf under the short-cut, scraggly brown wig. Spirit gum held the itchy full beard and mustache in place. Thus far her odd disguise had drawn little attention, and she’d been readily accepted by the stalwart group of men as merely another sexually curious male.