Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
No. 83 alt.sex.stories
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
watermelon moon
Part Twenty-Six
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Eighteen
Willette was running, running, racing through the forest. Hatam
panted at her heels, swinging the empty gun at her. It was all out of
ammunition but it could still be used as a club. Willette felt air graze
angrily over her head as the gun just missed it.
Up the field of daisies Willette ran. She stumbled in her high heels,
pressed on. Fortunately Hatam was equally hobbled by heels. Neither of
them wanted to spare the moment it would take to be free of the shoes.
But Willette knew she had a secret advantage. The tommygun under the
chair.
Willette burst into the cabin. In a heat of rage and fury she kicked
past the corpses of her former friends and lunged for the gun under the
chair. She grabbed it and leapt up. Hatam was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly she heard the engine of the limo, hidden amongst the trees, roar
to life in the distance.
Willette burst from the cabin. She was just in time to see the black
limo speed through the trees and hit the dirt road beyond. Willette fired
the tommygun at it. The limo was out of range. She watched a plume of
smoke rise through the trees as the limo raced away. Willette looked over
at the old jalopy. It would never catch Hatam. Willette swore. An oath.
It was 1:00 in the morning, but Mick didn't care. He pumped the horn
of his car, creating a bleating noise that reverberated through the
neighborhood. The car's horn would have been annoying enough on any
street lined with homes, but this neighborhood consisted of closely packed
apartment buildings which lined an alley like so many sardine cans
waiting for cats to pry them open.
A figure opened the blind of her window. She peered out at the
silver-grey sports car with the well endowed horn, a baby cradled in her
arms. As the girl stared Mick defiantly gave several more bleats with his
horn. This was, after all, Friday night or, technically speaking, Saturday
morning. Who was this girl to be holed up in her apartment on Party Night
anyway? Her body looked shapely enough, silhouetted against the blinds.
What was she doing, babysitting?
Mick jumped out of his car and ran up to the bank of apartments. If
he couldn't get his guests to come to him, he would, after all, have to go to
them. Impatiently he rang the doorbell of his friends' apartment. Finally
two young girls tumbled out, and Mick directed them to the back seat of
his car. As he slipped back into the drivers' seat of his sports car he saw
that the female was still staring out her window. Still staring, when his
horn hadn't gone off now for several minutes? For a moment he sat
staring back at the girl, while his two girlfriends in back busied
themselves unwrapping joints. This female may have opened her blind in
anger at the horn, but now her anger wasn't motivated anymore by the
noise. It was motivated by loneliness. She really had no interest in being
in her apartment at all. She wanted to be in the car with the loud horn.
With the boy who was making the noise with the loud horn.
Mick stuck his hand out the window of his car and, with a smirk,
waved at the girl. He hit the accelerator on his car. With a loud squeal of
his tires he sped off, leaving the lonely girl behind to while away Friday
night in her little apartment. "Goodbye, lonely girl," Mick called.
The moon rose over the tenements. Willette gazed up at it.
Watermelon moon. Filling or receding in size, she didn't care. For her
Watermelon Moon would always be half empty. The baby in her arms began
to cry.
THE END
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
A Mansion for Masochists
Part One
by Andrew Roller
Chapter One
Alicia was barely 18 when the strange envelope arrived in the
mail. It was brown, without any decoration whatsoever. Even the
return address was lacking. Alicia considered it for a moment and then
"filed" it in her wastebasket. With that she went off to WomenÕs
Studies 101.
Returning from the college campus, Alicia slipped out of her
clothes and trotted off to the shower. She wanted to luxuriate herself
with a slow, steamy bubble bath, but she had to study. After a quick
wash Alicia stepped out and, abjuring clothes, plopped her bottom down
and began to study.
Perhaps it was the tedium of the subject, Feminist Theory, which
distracted her. Perhaps it was her own nudity, her clinging breasts
wiggling each time she took the eraser to her homework. In any event,
Alicia found her mind reconsidering the large brown envelope in the
wastebasket. Maybe it was a former lover, lamenting his disavowal of
her. Alicia giggled at the thought of how many lusty boys she had
turned down, and how many more she had led on, only to leave them at
the last minute with a tight pair of balls and a penis leaking pre-cum.
And then there were the males who had led her on, who had forced her
to succumb to their will and allow herself to be used by them. Alicia
shifted uncomfortably, realizing what she was admitting to herself.
Without another thought Alicia got up and padded over to the
wastecan and, silently cursing herself, bent down and retrieved the
envelope. There was a small stain on the corner from an empty,
upturned milk carton, but other than that the envelope was just as
before. Alicia unceremoniously ripped it open.
The card inside was quite different from its modest wrapper. It
was powder blue, with pink streamers and yellow confetti pasted upon
it. Opening the card Alicia found an interior of Moire satin, upon which
had been written in bold strokes of black ink:
YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO AN EVENING SOIREE AT MY HUMBLE
ABODE OF 18 MANORWEST LANE. PLEASE DRESS FORMALLY BUT
COMFORTABLY. TELL NO ONE OF YOUR WHEREABOUTS. IF YOU ARE STILL
A MINOR, I RESPECTFULLY REQUEST THAT YOU REFUSE TO HONOR THIS
INVITATION.
s/MICK
"Of course!" Alicia thought to herself. It was lucky she had
recovered the envelope. Alicia had applied for membership in the Phi
Oui sorority and this was probably the initiation invitation she had
been waiting for. Alicia's skin tingled at the thought of all the great
guys that would probably be there. It was about time she had some fun.
So far the only thing she'd been invited to do in college was study.
Still, Alicia was new in the area, and she'd best check out this 18
ManorWest Lane. Alicia slipped on her blouse and shorts and headed out
the door. It was just growing dark, and if she hurried she could get a
look at the place before she was due to be there tomorrow night. With
a quick look at the map Alicia pointed her car in the appropriate
direction and headed off into the sunset.
Eighteen ManorWest Lane proved to be anything but a "humble
abode." It was located in the wealthiest section of town, with a
secluded wood encroaching upon its rear while its front lawn offered a
spectacular view of the city below. A ponderous stone wall encircled
the streetward side. A thoughtfully crafted gate of metal poles,
tapering to spikes at their summits, barred entry. A scattering of
fallen autumn leaves lay upon the assiduously manicured lawn. Alicia
let out her breath slowly. Phi Oui must have excellent connections. For
a moment the mansion made her feel afraid, as if she couldn't possibly
measure up to the requirements that must be made of one who thought
to enter such a place. Perhaps the Phi Oui girls were a trifle too upper
crust for Alicia. Even their boyfriends might find Alicia's pedigree
lacking. Alicia had, after all, gotten into Ruttingame on grades, not
money.
Alicia bit her lower lip and wistfully turned away from the
mansion, letting her car roll gently back down the series of hillocks
toward the city. She resolved to go to the mansion at the appointed
hour, but first she would make use of the telephone number which the
invitation had so cordially provided. If the girl at the other end was a
snot, well, then Alicia would probably stay home and study. Perhaps
Phi Beta Cappa would make up for a lost membership in Phi Oui.
The girl who answered at the mansion's number was everything
Alicia had thought she would not be. Polite, endearing, but vague. All
the delightful girl would say was that Alicia was invited, Alicia would
be safe, and that Alicia would be free to leave whenever she wished.
With only the slightest hesitation Alicia consented to come, and agreed
to be there on the morrow.
"Would it be okay if my boyfriend came too?" Alicia asked.
"No, only you, please," the girl replied.
"Well, may I tell him where I'll be?" Alicia asked.
"If you wish, but we would prefer that you didn't," the girl said
cheerily. Well, Alicia had expected as much on that score. For all she
knew there wouldn't be any boys at the initiation ceremony. And Alicia
had been without a boyfriend since arriving at college anyway.
"This is for Phi Oui, right?" Alicia said.
"Can't tell," the girl said, giving a giggle as if to imply that in
fact it was.
Alicia arrived at the mansion the next night wearing a formal, but
slightly seductive gown. It had a lower cut than might have been
expected, revealing an ample amount of her fair bosom. A butler,
apparently sensing her approach, opened the steel gates for her by
remote control. He stood in the driveway wearing a tuxedo. As Alicia
passed the butler in her car, he waved to her.
"Well, at least there will be one man here," Alicia thought to
herself. The name "Mick," with which the curious invitation had been
signed, was ambiguous as to gender, despite its use by a famous male
rock star. Alicia subconsciously hoped that the name "Mick" in fact
belonged to a man.
Alicia parked her car amidst half a dozen Jaguars and Volvos and
daintily made her way on stiletto heels to the front door. A touch on
the bell and a series of muted cathedral-like chimes announced her
arrival. A moment later an elegantly dressed young woman, no older
than Alicia, opened the door and gaily invited her in.
The girl, introducing herself as Kim, divested Alicia of her fur
coat and, admiring her appearance, led her into a stately parlor.
"This is Alicia, a new arrival," Kim announced to a collection of
men and women who stood chatting. Alicia's modest smile met the
appreciative gaze of the guests. No sooner had Alicia accepted a
delectable crouton and cannikin of Chivas than she was pressed in by
people on all sides and brought to engage herself in delightful
conversation.
Alicia found herself much admired by the ladies and desired by
the gentlemen, who ranged in age from about 20 to 40. They wanted to
know all about her, and in turn told her all about themselves, leaving
out specifics, however, and speaking largely in generalities.
Nonetheless, it was obvious from their speech that they were
accustomed to wealth, as both sexes spoke long and languorously about
their foreign travels, stock portfolios, and expensive leisure activities.
At some point it occurred to Alicia that this was not quite the
age group that made itself familiar at sorority parties. Either this was
a collection of Phi Oui alumnus and their significant others, or Alicia
had managed to wade in to a gala that a midwestern farm girl was not
accustomed to being invited to. However, in deference to her company,
Alicia said nothing. Instead she allowed herself airs she had only
before ever dreamed of, and permitted herself to be seduced into
fantasizing of living this way forever. Feminist Theory, to say the
least, was not uppermost on Alicia's mind as she allowed herself to be
led into a sumptuous dining hall and seated at table by one of the men.
The gay conversation continued as a stream of food began to
arrive, courtesy of two butlers and a serving girl, each exquisitely
attired. Alicia helped herself to as much food and wine as her tummy
desired, realizing only later in the meal that she would have to receive
someone's help if she was to go home. She had become too tipsy to
drive.
The meal was well advanced, the butlers keeping the table
immaculate with their constant ministrations, when one of the older
women spoke up.
"I think it would be wise if we allowed the men to provide
themselves with a bit of entertainment, as we would not want them to
feel that the night had ended unhappily," the woman, Lilith by name,
said pleasantly.
"What about our new companion Alicia?" A second woman, named
Beth, asked.
"Oh, yes," Lilith said. She gazed at Alicia and saw that the girl
was comfortably intoxicated. "Kim, perhaps you could explain."
"Of course," Kim said. "At this point our party becomes, well,
private," she said quietly. "We'd all love for you to stay, but we must
warn you that, despite our class, or perhaps because of it, we can be
rather decadent."
"Decadent?" Alicia repeated innocently. The wine had given her
large eyes a childlike lustre. Several of the men squirmed in their
seats.
"Alicia, my dear, I'm sure it is no secret to you that you are one of
the more delightful creatures our men have had the privilege of setting
eyes on," Lilith interrupted. "Several of our men have indicated to me
that it would be most helpful for them if you would permit them to
unzipper themselves as we continue our repast. They have promised to
remain seated, with their members out of view, so as not to disturb
your meal."
"I, I'm afraid I don't understand," Alicia said, her mind suddenly
flashing back to the strange invitation she had received and comparing
it with this group which had turned out to be anything but a gaggle of
sorority sisters engaged in a mischievous initiation.
"You thought our invitation was from a college sorority, didn't
you?" Lilith asked.
"Yes," Alicia said meekly.
"And what had you planned to do at such an occasion as that which
a sorority might provide?" Lilith asked.
"Well, um, to have some fun, forget about school, and, uh, probably
to be forced to get sloshed," Alicia said.
"But we haven't forced you to do anything, have we?" Lilith
continued.
"Oh, no! You've been absolutely wonderful to me!" Alicia cried out.
"I just wonder if, well, if I'm even supposed to be here."
"Frankly, our invitation to you was improperly addressed," Lilith
lied. "Once you arrived, however, our men were loath to turn you out.
Now, however, we must ask that if you wish to stay you permit our men
this minor indulgence of undoing themselves."
As if to forestall further conversation on the point, several men
zipped down their flies. Alicia heard the rustling of their trousers as
the males freed their cocks and allowed them to spring out underneath
the table. With a shy glance Alicia looked sideways at the gentleman
sitting next to her. He grinned politely and returned his hands to the
table.
"No offence, I hope. It is our custom," the man, named Robert,
said.
"No, no offence at all," Alicia said incredulously. The lifestyle of
the rich and famous was certainly different from that of Iowa farmers.
Dinner continued much as before, with naught a mention of the
lewd display that was obtaining under the table. After another seven
minutes or so of languid conversation, some of it pertaining to points
in Aristotle's Ethics, Beth suggested that since the men had been kind
enough to delight the women with the thought of their divested
equipment (as she put it), perhaps the women would flatter the men
with a baring of their breasts.
"Let us have our dessert in the fashion of the Polynesians, whose
women are reputed to be without any sort of covering over their
mammaries," Beth said.
"Kim, would you do us the honors, please?" Lilith asked.
With a smile Kim rose and, starting with the woman next to her,
deferentially undid the buttons of her vest and blouse. The woman
turned out to be without a bra and Kim produced the final effect by
simply pulling the woman's clothes down and off her arms. The
woman's breasts stood out firmly, twin peaks joining the male's
recondite penises in the cool autumn air. The woman nonchalantly
leaned forward and took a sip of her sherry.
"You would have worn a gown," Kim said to the next woman.
"I try to be difficult," the woman replied as Kim unzipped her in
back.
"She just wants to get a head start on us," Beth said jovially.
Alicia, still stunned by this new development in the proceedings, failed
to understand.
Soon, of those seated, only Alicia remained to be undone. Kim
unzipped her in back, then pushed the gown off her shoulders, baring
Alicia's breasts. Alicia blushed.
"There, you see? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Lilith said to
Alicia. "I'll bet it's been awhile since you've enjoyed an eight course
dinner without your top."
"A very long while," Alicia said. Kim sat down once more beside
her.
"Debbie," Lilith addressed the woman beside Kim. "Would you be
kind enough to return the favor to Kim?" Debbie made to get up.
"No, let me," Alicia said suddenly, rising. "I ought to contribute
too."
"Oh, what a nice thought," Lilith said.
It was then that Alicia realized that if she were to rise, her gown
would be lost. She let it drop to a pool at her ankles, thanking herself
for thinking to wear panties, something she didn't always do. In order
that the panties might not be visible beneath her gown, Alicia had
selected a pair of the sheerest silk. Of course, now that they were her
only strategic covering they afforded her little more modesty than no
panties at all.
Several of the men involuntarily sucked in their breaths at the
sight of Alicia rising nearly naked from her chair. Besides her lemon
panties, she wore only sheer white thigh-high "stay-put" hose and
silver stiletto pumps. It is questionable whether Alicia would have
permitted herself to be seen in this condition before virtual strangers
if it had not been for the liqueur she had imbibed. Then again, she had
expected something slightly kinky from a sorority initiation, and this
dinner party was far superior to anything a college sorority could cook
up. In fact, circumstances (and not a little cunning on the part of
Alicia's hosts) had caused this new girl in town to be initiated after
all, but into a group of wealthy, fashionable socialites instead of the
jeans and beer crowd on campus.
Alicia leaned forward and gently undid the buttons of her new
friend's vest and blouse. Her nipples tingled as they pressed into Kim's
long auburn hair where it flowed down over her back. Alicia gasped as
Kim's breasts suddenly sprang into view. They were firm, creamy, and
resilient, not unlike her own. Alicia felt a sudden inclination to touch
them, but refrained. She tugged Kim's attire off her slender, tanned
shoulders, depositing it behind Kim's buttocks in the chair, and then
reseated herself.
D R E A M G I R L S N E W S
PISSED OFF IN CYBERSPACE
by holy joe
Several people dumped their Dreamgirls subscriptions recently
because they complained of getting multiple copies of the same issue.
Alarmed, I contacted our official mail boy (formerly our official shoeshine
boy) for an official answer:
Holy Moly: It is not my fault. AOL has apparently reduced the
number of addresses that one can mail to. Hence, every time I sent out
Dreamgirls 80 it kept being sent back to me. So I had to reduce the
number of people on our mailing list and split the list into two separate
lists. This was totally experimental on my part. I had no idea how far I
had to cut in order to create a mailing list that would actually get sent
out, instead of being ÒrejectedÓ by AOL.
If you quit Dreamgirls because you got multiple copies, feel free to
resubscribe. We know weÕre great, but you probably donÕt have six copies
of the Holy Bible in your house, so you probably donÕt need six copies of
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls either. -h.j.
Free Naughty Naked Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up)
age statement to: roller666@aol.com Free back issues: send e-mail to
nnd.inf@backdrop.com Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-
addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663,
Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A. Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of
Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1995 and a trademark of
Andrew Roller. Chat: alt.sex.stories.d END OF 83 EMISSION