Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

A Roman Shower	By : LizzyBathory Category: Individual Celebrities > Lindsay Lohan Views: 3471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of total fiction. I do not know Lindsay Lohan or Hayden Panettiere. I don't make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Roman Shower
- 1
Lindsay Lohan sat blinking at Hayden Panettiere, unable to process what she had just been told. Sure, they’d both had a couple of drinks, but neither one was anywhere near drunk; they could hold their liquor!

“There is no such thing!” Lindsay squealed, grabbing her friend’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Yes, there is,” Hayden insisted, nodding her head. “I’ve been there. Granted, it was only once, but that’s enough to prove it’s real.”

“No fucking way,” Lindsay responded. “A club dedicated to… throwing up? Sounds like a dream disco for weirdo anorexics and supermodels!”

“Nope, it’s real,” Hayden insisted. “It’s just one of those fetish places, like you hear about in Japan or those beasty places Mexico. But instead of fucking schoolgirls or mules, it’s for puke play.”

Lindsay eyed Hayden suspiciously. “What the fuck is ‘puke play?’” she said. “Even I’ve never heard of that.”

Hayden shifted in her seat a bit uncomfortably. She was wearing a gold-sequined dress that accented her full head of famous blonde hair. The dress was almost illegally short and also plunged deeply in front, showcasing the newly huge boobs she had been blessed with thanks to having a baby.

“Well, it’s... playing... with puke. Y’know, vomit. Ralphing. On each other. A ‘Roman Shower.’ People throw up – and other people get turned on by it.”

“That sounds so fucked up,” Lindsay laughed. She was dressed in a tight black leather skirt with black leggings and a white blouse that was unbuttoned to her waist. Her large boobs were unrestrained by a bra or double-sided tape, making her ripe for a wardrobe malfunction at any moment. “That’s sick,” she giggled, running her fingers through her hair, which was now back to her signature fiery red.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Hayden admitted. “But probably not anymore than other sick fucks. I mean, is it really that much worse than old men who sniff panties or fuck girls dressed as ponies?”

Lindsay had to think a moment about that. She remembered how many guys used to pay her to dress up like her characters from “The Parent Trap” and her teen movies. “I guess not,” she admitted.

“Yeah,” said Hayden. “And it’s the usual mix we see at sex clubs – rich old perverts and pretty young girls. Everybody gets off one way or another.”

“The guys give the girls money to throw up on them?” Lindsay asked.

“Sometimes… but mostly the girls throw up on each other while the guys pay to watch,” Hayden clarified. “One time I was there, this dude gave me $3,000 to just throw up on my bare feet while he jerked off to me.”

This was not a subject Lindsay had ever really thought much about. Like most people, she found vomiting repulsive and unpleasant and something that only happened when she was drunk. Okay, so she’d done her share of “purging” when she needed to lose weight fast, but she certainly didn’t enjoy it. However, for some weird reason, the thought of puking on another girl fired her imagination this evening. She imagined tossing her cookies on Hayden’s golden-tanned skin.

“We are SO going!” Lindsay said suddenly, slapping her hand on the table loudly. She downed the last of her drink and dragged Hayden to her feet.

Hayden resisted her pull, trying to sit down again. “No, no, no, we can’t!” she moaned. “I don’t want to go back to that place again!”

“Oh, so you’ll go with other people, but not with me?” Lindsay said, sounding miffed. “Who did you go with?”

“Stop, Lindsay,” Hayden protested, finally allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. “Okay, all right, we can go, we can go. Jesus!”

“Awesome!” Lindsay cried. “You can tell my driver how to get there.”

The girls ran a gantlet of paparazzi and quickly piled into the back of a white limo and collapsed in laughter on the spacious bench seat. Lindsay pointed out to Hayden that her left boob had popped out of her top again, and the blonde rolled her eyes as she tucked herself back in. “That’ll be everywhere on the Internet by morning,” she groaned.

Lindsay laughed. “At least people are still interested in seeing yours!”

The limo drove off, then stopped at a McDonald’s drive-thru so the girls could load their normally empty stomachs with some bulky, greasy food that they wouldn’t mind getting rid of. While they gorged themselves, the driver got on I-15 and headed north.

When the car pulled to a stop, the girls stepped out. It was dark. Lindsay was sure she had never been in this part of Las Vegas before. But then she realized they weren’t in Sin City anymore. Looking south, she could see a bright glow in the sky that was doubtless Vegas itself. They were on a street crowded with a small group of industrial buildings, but no people wandering about.

“Hayden?” Lindsay said, suspiciously. They were in a parking lot full of cars.

“Don’t worry, this is it,” she assured her friend, gesturing toward the nondescript building before them. A small neon sign spelled out “The Senate Chamber” in simple, pale blue script that gave no hint of what lay within.

Below the sign and in front of the heavy oak door was a gigantic man in an expensive suit wearing sunglasses and an earpiece. As the limo pulled away, the girls stood frozen, intimidated by the sentinel. Before they could decide which one would approach the brute first, he touched a finger to his earpiece, then (possibly) cracked a smile and reached for the velvet rope behind him.

“I think he recognized one of us,” Lindsay whispered as they approached and were waved inside.

Hayden pointed up at a camera that followed them. “I think somebody behind the camera recognized one of us.”

Lindsay crinkled her nose. “I thought you said you were only here once before...”

“Once, twice...” Hayden mumbled, “six times, who counts?”

“What was that?” Lindsay asked.

As the actresses entered the dark corridor, Lindsay saw a series of doors along both walls. She couldn’t quite make out the unlit signs above them. She reached out for the handle of one door at random, but Hayden grabbed her hand and pulled her toward left, down a side corridor. “Those places are… adventures for another night,” Hayden whispered. “This is what we want.”

A pair of imposing doormen pushed open twin smoked-glass doors for the women.

The strange smell hit Lindsay at once, and she wrinkled her nose as they entered. Hayden noticed. “Don’t worry. It’s kinda gross right now, but the management pumps in fragrances to help mask it,” Hayden said. “It’s pretty intense now, but you’ll get used to it pretty quick. If you keep breathing through your nose, you’ll become desensitized quicker,” she added helpfully.

They continued walking until the corridor opened into a large room. Lindsay could see it had been designed to resemble a Roman banquet hall. Everything was carved of marble; there were lots of statues and tapestries that made the place look like the version of ancient Rome seen in countless movies and the Caesars Palace casino. Maybe it wasn’t perfectly authentic, but it got the point across.

The main chamber was designed like a miniature coliseum with three concentric circles that descended toward the center. Along the tiers were marble benches and couches with cushions and small tables arranged along the perimeter of the aisles. In the middle of the walkway on each level were metal grates that covered a trough carved into the ornate floor. Stairs descended to the next level.

The large room was quite crowded, and the crowd was a mix that Lindsay was not entirely unfamiliar with: Men of various ages in business suits sat with smiling half-naked beautiful young women – only these girls were wearing Roman-inspired togas instead of the designer gowns Lindsay usually saw in sex clubs. Some men wore togas, too, but they were in a minority.

And everywhere women were barfing – puking on themselves, on each other, onto plates of food, onto the tables, onto the lap of their “gentlemen” companions, into buckets, into clear plastic containers. Lindsay noticed that it was almost exclusively the girls who were puking; the only men doing it were ones who appeared to get too nauseous experiencing the spectacle.

There was so much vomit everywhere, splashing and flowing over all the marble fixtures and onto the floor. Lindsay couldn’t help imagining how slippery the floors would be – but then she noticed that the puke was slowly flowing toward the middle of the aisles and through the grates into the troughs. So the designers of this club were as ingenious as the Romans they were imitating.

“Welcome, ladies,” said a pleasant voice behind them. It belonged to a statuesque, dark-haired woman in her late 40s dressed in a golden toga. “I am Vera, and I am your hostess,” she smiled. “It’s so good to see you again, Ms. Panettiere.”

Hayden smiled and blushed a bit as Lindsay gave her side-eye. “First thing you need to know: We have a strict confidentiality policy, so that you may enjoy anything and everything with peace of mind. All of our employees are bonded.” Lindsay smiled at that. “This way, ladies,” Vera said. “I will escort you to our dressing rooms.”

As they followed Vera around the perimeter of the club, Lindsay took in the spectacle of hurling. Girls of various ages – but all very beautiful – were puking, and cash was flying like a blizzard. The girls were mostly dressed in their sexy little togas, and some of their outfits were covered in puke, or ripped or half-off, or even totally missing. The naked women tried to cover themselves with the fluffy white towels that were stacked everywhere. She also noticed muscular young men in loincloths who were constantly mopping and cleaning everywhere.

Toward one side of the chamber was a large stage. If there were a normal strip club, Lindsay would expect the feature act to perform there. She also noticed two satellite stages on either side and a number of small podiums on which a single woman danced.

To her right, Lindsay saw an opening in the wall encircled by green and blue neon lights. What is that, I wonder, she asked herself.

Lindsay was especially surprised to realize that she and Hayden were far from the only celebrities present. She smiled to herself as she saw a Pretty Little raven-haired girl lying naked on her back in the middle of a circle of young women who took turns ralphing on her torso. The smile on her face signaled how much she was enjoying it. A little further on, Lindsay saw a blonde wearing a demure ankle-length toga, tied to a marble column in the middle of a small pool. Another small group of women walking in the water circled her, puking on her like a perverse reversed fountain.

Vera led Lindsay and Hayden into the dressing chamber, where a number of wardrobe assistants helped them undress, stow their belongings in lockers and put on fitted togas. The gossamer cotton fabric was practically see-through. Lindsay saw from Hayden’s example that one did not wear underwear beneath the toga. The garment barely covered her butt cheeks, and Lindsay had to admit that she felt especially sexy wearing it.

“Needless to say,” one of the young assistants said, “you can change your toga at any time, as many times as you want.”

When they indicated that they were ready, Vera escorted the celebs back to the main room. “You may participate in our activities in any way that you feel comfortable,” Vera explained. “Many first-timers think they just want to watch, but soon discover they cannot help themselves.” Vera licked her lips and looked at Lindsay as she said this.

“When the time comes and you feel the need to... refuel or refill your tummies, there is a complimentary buffet of virtually anything you may desire, from colorful fruit smoothies to turkey legs, available for your dining pleasure. Simply walk through the marked green-and-blue doorways.

“Women – especially our lovely celebrity guests such as yourselves – rule here, so you may initiate any play or interrupt any games already in progress that you like. Also, a lady may decline any action she’s not comfortable with. You may request employee aides of any sex to assist you in any manner. Please, enjoy yourselves,” she said, waving her hand as she bowed and let the newcomers go their own way.

Hayden led Lindsay toward a quieter section of the room on the uppermost ring of the club. Now Lindsay noticed something new: in addition to the grotesque sounds of people retching all around them, there were the unmistakable moans of orgasms everywhere. Countless women could be heard screaming for their gods while men shouted and cursed.

Lindsay saw guests and serving girls bent over tables and fucked while others purged on them; she saw men jerking off while women spewed on their erect cocks; and some couples kissed and writhed together while being showered in vomitus.

At one point, Lindsay noticed two striking-looking women on the innermost, lowest level sitting inside clear plastic tubes with their wrists chained behind them. They each sat almost waist deep in pools of vomit that were being fed by troughs that appeared to be channeling all the effluent gathered by the gutters on the upper levels. The chunky fluid was the worst the club had to offer: vomit mixed with cum and half-eaten food – even piss was pouring on their heads, and both girls were crying. Hayden assured Lindsay that the tortured women had both consented to being inundated in those foul tubes.

“The tears are part of it for them,” Hayden said, but Lindsay was still unsettled by the display, which probably represented the ultimate in degradation and humiliation.

On another dais, Lindsay watched a former TV child star from way back with her toga gathered around her waist, horking on her own pussy while a dark-skinned man wearing sunglasses flicked a pile of $100 bills into a bowl next to her.

Lindsay and Hayden sat on a hard marble bench along the perimeter of the third, topmost tier. A pretty, dark-haired serving wench instantly appeared and displayed a tray with a selection of bottles filled with liquids of various colors. “They’re dyes; they make your vomit different colors,” she explained helpfully.

Hayden looked at a bottle filled with thick blue elixir. “This one’s pretty,” she remarked, and popped off the cap and drank it down. She showed her blue tongue to Lindsay, who laughed, but passed on drinking any herself.

“Shall we begin?” Hayden asked, as she gently put her hands on Lindsay’s breasts and pushed her back against the wall. Then Hayden shoved two fingers down her own throat and wiggled them.

“Wait!” Lindsay cried. “You’re gonna throw up on me? I don’t think I’m ready for this! I don’t... Hayden! Please!”

“Gggah,” Hayden gurgled, and her torso quivered under the toga. “Hurrrrrggg!”

Lindsay cowered and peeked at her friend through squinty eyes. “Oh, God,” Lindsay squeaked, fearful of what was to come.

Hayden’s torso convulsed again. “Huurrrrggggllllaaaa,” she croaked, and quickly removed her hand. A spray of deep blue puke hit Lindsay squarely between her breasts and with more force than Lindsay expected. It splattered all over her upper torso and neck, drenching her toga.

“Ooooh, God!” Lindsay cried in shock as she felt the warm, chunky blue goop settle on her chest and tummy. Her white toga was plastered to her famous breasts.

Hayden couldn’t keep from laughing. “Gawd, Lindsay, the look on your face!” she chuckled. “You look like you just got caught masturbating!”

“God, fuck me, I think I’m gonna… I’ll... Oh, I’m gonna puke!” Lindsay wailed. “The smell... oh, shit!”

“Do it! Do it on me!” Hayden begged, grabbing Lindsay’s shoulders and pulling the sex symbol toward her.

Lindsay partially blocked her stream of vomit purely by reflex; her hand directed some of her puke harmlessly to the floor, so only some of it hit Hayden on her left leg.

“Bitch, you’re supposed to puke on me,” Hayden snapped. Then she shocked Lindsay by dropping to her knees and using her bountiful golden blonde hair to wipe Lindsay’s vomit off the floor before it could flow to the return troughs.

The sight of her friend sopping up her puke with her golden locks made Lindsay gag. She gasped, and then retched again, this time launching a stream that rained on the back of Hayden’s head. Hayden came up laughing. “Well, that’s the spirit, at least,” she said, brushing her dampened hair behind her shoulders. “Try to get it on my tits this time, hotstuff.”

Lindsay grimaced and lost a lot more of that fast food, this time bathing Hayden’s boobs. “Ohhhh, yes, baby,” Hayden laughed. She pulled her left breast upward and stretched her tongue downward to lick the puke off her nipple. “Mmm, tastes great,” she smiled. Then she suddenly tossed her cookies and hit Lindsay square in the face, leaving the redhead gasping, and Hayden laughing.

Hayden reached down and lifted the hem of her toga. “Puke on my pussy, honey.”

Lindsay leaned over and, just inches from Hayden’s shaven mound, horked violently.

“Mmmmm, yessssss,” Hayden purred as she massaged the vomit over her clit and inserted a finger inside herself. She leaned back and tickled her own throat, dropping a stream of blue vomit down her own tits and belly, using it as additional lubricant.

Lindsay tried to make herself hurl again, but was having difficulty doing it. “Does mistress require some assistance?” said a voice beside her. Lindsay was startled, but it was Vera, again materializing out of nowhere. She gestured to two companions who stood behind her: a barefoot, naked young woman and a bearded, nude young man with a muscular physique wearing bulky spiked boots and sporting a 10-inch erection.

Lindsay smiled in the direction of the male, and Vera snapped her fingers and barked: “Leonidas!” In a flash, Lindsay felt Leonidas’ hands on her head and his giant cock in her mouth, thrusting toward the back of her throat. Lindsay’s face turned red, her eyes bulged and filled with tears as Leonidas drove himself deep into her throat without mercy!

She made a particularly deep gagging sound and Leonidas quickly pulled out, allowing Lindsay to deliver a huge flow of vomitus onto her own tits. She gagged again and gasped for breath. Leonidas grabbed her and again forced his massive shaft into her throat. Lindsay was certain she was going to suffocate with this monster cock blocking her breathing, but he pulled out in time for her to puke on herself again.

Gasping, Lindsay held up her hand, and Vera called off Leonidas. Lindsay looked over to see Hayden lying prone on the bench, with the girl, called Antonia, straddling her face. Hayden was licking furiously at the young snatch as Antonia stuck what looked like most of her fist down her own throat. She then expertly dribbled a stream of vomit down her own chest, right between her spectacularly perky tits. It snaked down her tummy and flowed to her pussy, where Hayden lapped it up as it mixed with Antonia’s pussy juice.

Lindsay reached down to diddle herself. Vera asked if she would like Leonidas to service her pussy, and Lindsay nodded weakly. With a flick of his finger Leonidas puked into his own hand, smeared his shaft with it, and plunged it deep into Lindsay’s pussy.

“OOohhh!” Lindsay screamed as Leonidas started to piston in and out of her famous pussy. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” Lindsay gasped as she felt stimulated like never before. She couldn’t believe how depraved she was being: playing with vomit and now getting slammed with a puke-covered dick in this club…

She tasted vomit in her mouth and suddenly realized she was about to cum. “OOoooooOOOOooooo,” Lindsay moaned. She hadn’t cum so quickly from a dick since she was a schoolgirl! Leonidas pulled out and held his cock in his hand, looking at Lindsay.

“Where does mistress want Leonidas to cum?” Vera asked. Lindsay opened her mouth, and Leonidas unloaded what felt to Lindsay like a quart of jizz into her waiting mouth. Lindsay swallowed it gleefully – part of her anticipating puking it back up.

Catching her breath, Lindsay sat up. “Is there somebody cute who could puke in my hair?” she asked Vera. “Of course,” Vera smiled. She snapped her fingers and gestured in a direction above Lindsay’s head, out of her sight. Within moments a young redheaded actress appeared, dressed in a pristine white toga. With her finely coiffed hair, full bust and long legs, she looked like an angel descended from heaven. Vera made a series of silent gestures to the former child model, who nodded in response.

“Hi, Lindsay,” she chirped. “I’ve always loved your pretty red hair. You inspired me to keep my own red hair when I was growing up and other girls made fun of me. It’s an honor to regurgitate on you!”

Then she shoved a finger between her naturally beestung lips and into her throat. In seconds, she let fly with one massive stream of upchuck after another, bathing Lindsay’s hair completely.

Meanwhile, Antonia climbed off Hayden’s face and went to stand next to Vera. “Was mistress satisfied with Antonia’s performance?” Vera asked.

“Yes, very much so,” Hayden nodded. “Her pussy tastes like honeydew and she certainly knows how to move.”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed her, mistress,” Vera replied with a proud smile. “Antonia is my daughter, and I trained her myself.”

Hayden blushed, and smiled in response. “You... uh, you should be proud of her.”

Hayden stood and looked at Lindsay, who was now on her back, letting the teen lick her boobs. “Uh, Lindz, I’m going to go get a little more food. I feel like I’m almost out,” she said. “You want me to bring back anything?”

Without looking at Hayden, Lindsay responded, “Maybe a smoothie of some sort,” she said with a giggle. “This cutie has promised to kiss every freckle on my body, so I think we’re going to be here a while.”

Hayden rolled her eyes. “I’ll have to ask Vera if this place ever closes or just keeps going and going...”
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Roman Shower