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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
FEVERED FALL
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Chapter Eight
The rubbled heap shifted with the weight of the rescue workers
crawling over it. There were less of them now; other matters had
intervened, drawing increasing numbers of them away. By midnight three
searchlights still illuminated the broken heap; the cluster of rescue
vehicles had dwindled to just two. Then, a little later, there was just one
rescue vehicle, and, finally, there were none at all. Scavengers replaced
the rescue workers on the pile. Within the rocks and broken plaster the
Tamagotchi shone like a single, living cell, amidst a decomposing body.
Within a week after our second foray to HeleneÕs, my auntie was
seriously considering marriage. I have no idea why. She had claimed she
didnÕt need a man, except for the pleasure they offered. Yet a responsible
doctor had walked into her life the day after we left HeleneÕs and now she
was all goofy and flustered about the possibility that he might propose to
her.
When he paid us a visit, I decided he was too cute for just my aunt to
have him.
I sauntered into the back yard of my auntÕs house. IÕd met our guest,
wearing my favorite miniskirt and a halter top. HeÕd been polite, but he
wore glasses and the light of a lamp was shining on them and I couldnÕt
see if I was inducing the reaction in him that I wanted. As my auntie and
he ate lunch indoors, I skipped my sandwich, put on my stringiest bikini,
and went out back. I popped some gum in my mouth on the way out; my
favorite, Hubba Bubba, because itÕs so soft. I didnÕt want to be entirely
without nourishment!
I found a big tree with thick branches. I glanced back at our house.
There was a tall hedge blocking their view of me, but IÕd slammed the back
door twice to make sure they heard me going out. I didnÕt so much care
that my aunt knew where I was. It was the doctor I was interested in.
I reached back behind myself and untied my top. I stood on my tip
toes and hung it up over a branch of the tree. I gazed up into the treeÕs
graceful limbs; so many leaves it had! How wonderful to stare up through
the leaves at the sun, gliding with immeasurable slowness overhead. WeÕd
had such cold weather, but now Indian summer was here, and I could enjoy
at least one more day of sun and heat.
I glanced back behind myself again. I could just see the edge of the
big picture window at the back of the house. My auntie and Don (that was
the doctorÕs name) could see out that window, if they wished, but were in
another room, deeper in the house, so I wasnÕt sure whether they were
looking out back or not. It was fun, peering at the windowÕs edge on the
other side of the big hedge, from under the tree. I wondered if they were
looking toward me or not. Could they see perhaps my lanky blonde hair,
the edge of my shoulder? I didnÕt know. I put my fingers into my bikini
bottoms. I slid them down my legs. I stepped out of them and neatly hung
them up over the tree branch, beside my bikini top.
Walking forward to where the sun struck the lawn, I laid down in the
grass. It was still green, like the leaves, though there were touches of
brown in the leaves of the tree, here and there, telling me that time was
passing and IÕd better enjoy this last bit of summer before I had to wait
another whole year for it. I smelled the grass. It smelled sweet. I sighed
contentedly. It felt lovely to be able to lie in the grass, on the verge of
fall, knowing it must arrive, yet holding it back, it seemed, with the
exposure of my nude body here in the midst of Nature. I fancied that the
Gods themselves would hold back the fall, if only they could see me lying
like this, nude, on the summer-green lawn, under the big maple tree.
I was some distance from the treeÕs trunk, out by the edge of the
shade formed by the treeÕs foliage. I wanted the sun, after all, to shine
down on me. I lay on my belly, with my body perpendicular to the treeÕs
trunk. One branch stuck out farther than the rest. It formed a tuft of
shadow that jutted out beyond the main, circular shadow formed by the
treeÕs foliage. I positioned myself as I lay down so that the sun shone all
the way along my back right down to my waist. Then, where the branch
stuck out, it threw shade over my bottom. My legs, though, stuck out in
the sun again. I loved tanning all of me, except my bottom. It would
remain white, while the rest of me turned golden brown.
Crossing my arms under my face, I rested my head sideways upon my
arms. Happily I chewed my gum. I felt the grass against me. I didnÕt have
a towel. IÕd forgotten it, but who needed a towel anyway, with my
auntieÕs perfectly maintained lawn to lie upon? I hadnÕt tried lying in the
grass without a towel before, and found it delightful. I closed my eyes. I
think I dozed, but IÕm not sure. Everything was so lush and peaceful.
Perhaps I was only daydreaming. I heard footsteps as I lay in the grass
and when I finally realized I wasnÕt imagining them, my eyes flew open.
A large figure stood over me. His shadow fell across my back.
ÒOh! Doctor Don!Ó I cried. I looked up at him. I was some distance
from my swimsuit. I saw it swaying gently in the wind, from the branch
IÕd hung it over. Both parts of it were untied and the strings of it hung
down alluringly. With innocent eyes I looked up at the good doctor and he
grinned and gazed down at me.
ÒDo you... always tan naked?Ó Doctor Don asked in a voice laced with
uncertainty. He was an upright guy. IÕm sure he was worried whether it
was appropriate for him to be seeing a nude girl of 13, even if she was
lying facedown.
ÒSometimes,Ó I said. I let my eyes dance with unspoken promise. He
had dark, wavy hair, was quite tall, and had broad shoulders. He reminded
me a little bit of David. How strange their names should both begin with
ÒDÓ, which was also the first letter of ÒdickÓ!
ÒYour skin is so lovely. IÕd hate to see you ruin it with too much
sun,Ó Doctor Don told me.
I sighed. ÒOh, I know,Ó I said. ÒBut the grass feels so nice and soft
against my belly.Ó I glanced back over my shoulder. I saw the sun had
moved while I was dozing. Half my bottom was uncovered! I scooted back
to put my bottom in shade again. As I did, the clipped stems of the grass
tickled me between my parted thighs. ÒOoooh!Ó I exclaimed.
ÒWhat?Ó Doctor Don asked. He dropped to one knee. There was a
concerned look on his face. He placed a hand in the small of my back.
ÒOh, the grass was tickling my cunny,Ó I confessed to him. I blushed.
ÒOh!Ó Doctor Don said. He reddened. He coughed.
ÒWhat kind of Doctor are you?Ó I asked him.
ÒIÕm a pediatrist,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒA what?Ó I asked. I opened my legs a bit wider, feeling natural and
free. How large his hand felt against my slim back!
ÒA... pediatrist. A childrenÕs doctor,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒOh!Ó I said. I sounded surprised. I guess I was. I felt my legs open
a tad wider. My bottom, for some reason, gave a small wiggle.
ÒSo I guess you know all about everything thatÕs inside me?Ó I asked
Doctor Don, gazing up into his intelligent brown eyes. I could see his eyes
clearly now, for he had his head bent. The light wasnÕt shining into his
glasses.
ÒYes, I do,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒYour aunt tells me youÕve been, ah,
making use of your... gifts.Ó
ÒI hope to use everything in me before I die,Ó I grinned.
ÒAh, well letÕs hope thatÕs many years away,Ó Doctor Don said. I felt
his fingers glide gently away from my waist and down over the rondure of
my bottom. Impulsively I wiggled it again. He extended his finger into a
straight, hard line and impressed it into the left cheek of my bottom. I
felt a tension between us, as if his finger wished to wander inbetween my
cleft but, being a doctor, and a childrenÕs doctor at that, he dared not
attempt such an act.
ÒChloe,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒYes?Ó I asked brightly.
ÒIÕm in... a dilemma,Ó he said. His finger pushed more deeply into my
heinie. I wanted to gasp at the pressure but held my breath instead, not
wishing to embarrass him. Clearly he had an interest in my bottom that
was more than doctorly in nature.
ÒYour aunt,Ó Doctor Don said. He cleared his throat. I felt his breath
on my face.
ÒDonÕt put any germs on me,Ó I said. I was a little peeved at his
indecision. If he liked me so much, why didnÕt he just take his chances and
tell me? Was he that worried about his reputation? Already, just from
the pressure of his finger, I could tell his thoughts werenÕt entirely pure.
ÒIÕm sorry, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said, this time without clearing his
throat. ÒDonÕt worry. I donÕt have anything I could give you. But I must
tell you something.Ó He looked at me. His eyes were deep brown pools,
behind his glasses. ÒChloe, IÕm... a homosexual,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒYour
aunt thinks I want to marry her.Ó
What?! My eyes gaped. My mouth dropped open. I bucked my bottom
hard, upward, and pushed his finger away. He didnÕt want her... and he
didnÕt want me either?! I was shocked. What was he doing coming to
lunch if he didnÕt want either of us?
Doctor Don let his hand hang limply by his side. Yet his eyes glanced
at my bottom, and lingered. Then finally he pulled them away. I
remembered a line IÕd read in a book once: ÒA man who only likes girls for
what they have in common with boys.Ó I had a chubby, white, flawless
bottom, fresh with the bloom of youth. My eyes wandered between his
thighs and I saw a not inconsiderable projection there. He saw me looking
between his legs. I squirmed on the grass and sensed his eyes returning
again to my seat. He DID want me, and my aunt too, perhaps, but only for
our posteriors!
ÒI have a client whose children I treat,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒTheyÕre
fine, healthy children, but if ever their father has a concern, IÕm the one
he calls. He has... other tastes too. He is a wealthy Arab Sultan and he has
a taste for the worldÕs best women.Ó Doctor DonÕs eyes left my bottom
and looked into my eyes. I lifted my own gaze from his crotch and looked
at him. I licked my lips.
ÒYes?Ó I asked.
ÒHe is not punctual about the age of a woman,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒWhen I say he has a taste for the worldÕs best women, that would include
not only your aunt but also yourself.Ó
ÒThanks,Ó I said. I blew a bubble with my bubblegum. It was big and
pink. It grew too big and it popped and splattered my mouth and my
cheeks.
ÒAh, may I help?Ó Doctor Don asked as I stared, mortified and cross-
eyed, at the childish predicament IÕd just put myself into. Carefully, with
the hands of a trained surgeon, Doctor Don lifted the bubblegum off my
face. I opened my mouth and he pushed my gum back in.
ÒThanks,Ó I said, chewing my gum happily again.
ÒDonÕt mention it,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut about the matter of the
Sultan, Chloe...Ó
ÒYes?Ó I asked. My lips smacked loudly as I chewed. Doctor Don
cleared his throat again, which I thought was rather annoying. Indeed, if
he didnÕt have such a big bulge between his legs, and such a handsome
physique, I would have told him to vamoose.
ÒOn behalf of the Sultan, IÕd like to offer you and your aunt a
vacation to Crete,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒIt would be quite educational for
yourself, Chloe. Have you studied Crete in school yet?Ó
ÒWahtÕs the catch?Ó I said, through my bubblegum, chomping quite
loudly because it seemed to make Doctor Don nervous.
ÒThe catch is... that you and your aunt would both be given physical
examinations. If you both passed, you would be sent on to Quatar, where
you would be... ah, entertained by the Sultan.Ó
ÒIÕve never heard of Crete,Ó I said, Òbut I have heard of Cretins. Do
all the Cretins come from Crete?Ó
ÒUh, no, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒThere was a guy on Scooby Doo once, and they said, ÔHeÕs a Cretin!ÕÓ
I told Doctor Don.
ÒThatÕs fine, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut allow me to finish with
my proposal. You would both be examined and, because you are so young,
Chloe, you would only be accepted into the SultanÕs harem if your aunt also
passed her physical. You would not be sent on alone.Ó
ÒA harem?Ó I asked. ÒIsnÕt that a place where there are lots of
studly guys, and they all, like, do whatever a woman asks them to do? I
saw one of those in a movie once, late at night! Ali McGraw and the
Thousand Stallions! I think thatÕs what it was called.Ó
ÒUh, perhaps in a feminist American film it might be that way,
Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut in real life, itÕs the other way round.Ó
ÒOh,Ó I said. I squirmed on the grass. I felt it tickling my cunny and
loved the idea of talking about naughty stuff with a trained doctor.
ÒDoctor Don?Ó I asked, in a high-pitched voice.
ÒYes, Chloe?Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒWhat if my auntie and me flunk?Ó
ÒThen you will both be sent home. Everything will be paid for, either
way. You need do nothing, simply accept the two tickets IÕve brought and
board the plane, or make changes in the takeoff time to suit the
particularities of your schedule.Ó
ÒWow! You brought tickets?Ó I asked. I felt the grass against my
nipples and their tips hardened against the blades. ÒThis Sultan must
really like me and auntie,Ó I said.
ÒOh, heÕs never seen you,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒHe doesnÕt know you
exist, at this point. But IÕve been commissioned by him to present tickets
to those young ladies I see who are of exceptional beauty. You and your
aunt both fell into that category so today, when I came to see you, I bought
tickets in order that I might offer them to you.Ó
ÒDoes my aunt know about this?Ó I asked him.
ÒNo... she thinks IÕm out here telling you to come in and eat your
sandwich, and that IÕm planning today to propose to her that she marry
me.Ó
ÒWow,Ó I said. I stared at Doctor Don. He cleared his throat again.
ÒYes, Chloe, at the moment there is a bit of a mix-up in what
everyoneÕs expecting of each other. But IÕm prepared to offer you both
tickets, a free vacation, and a handsome sum of money, just to go to Crete
and be examined. If you flunk, no problem. If you pass...Ó
ÒYes?Ó I asked.
ÒThen you will be put on a plane for Quatar.Ó
ÒWaht if we pass, but donÕt want to go?Ó I asked, through my
bubblegum. ÒDo we get to go home?Ó
Doctor Don broke into a smile. He looked radiantly handsome, and I
thought I detected an increase in the bulk he was displaying in his shorts,
between his legs.
ÒThat would take all the fun out of it, if you could go home, after
passing,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBy that time, you will have been paid, and so,
reluctantly, I must say that, Chloe, you and your aunt would be required to
go on to Quatar, and to serve the Sultan.Ó
ÒIÕm against it,Ó I said. I settled my face into my arms. I looked up
at him. I chewed quietly on my gum, enjoying his distress at seeing me
reject his proposal.
For once Doctor Don didnÕt clear his throat. It was as if some
barrier in his psyche had been breached and, having gotten over the hump
(perhaps of guilt?) he no longer felt impeded.
ÒChloe,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒI am an expert in females. I did a
residency as a gynecologist and now IÕm a pediatrician. I majored in
psychology in college. Your aunt...Ó he said, turning his head and looking
back over his shoulder, towards the house. ÒShe shares something in
common with me, something IÕve detected in her, without her knowing it.Ó
ÒYes?Ó I asked. He turned to face me again. He gazed down at me,
and I felt for a moment as if some God were gazing down grandly at my
small, 13-year-old form, holding me with just his stare, not even having
to touch me to control me.
ÒI am like Lawrence of Arabia, a masochist at heart, Chloe,Ó Doctor
Don said. ÒI think thatÕs why I went into medicine, to share with the
afflicted patient their suffering. Some men, obviously, choose medicine
because they are sadists. They like the thrill of cutting people open. But
I, Chloe, like the bleeding heart liberal, priest, or social worker, actually
enjoy sharing with the patient the experience theyÕre going through. I
have no idea why. Patients like it, though. They say I have a great bedside
manner. ItÕs not, you see, that I want to get into bed with them, from the
conventional viewpoint; but because, indeed, I want to get into bed with
them, to share the burden of their suffering with them.Ó
ÒAnd--?Ó I asked. I began chewing loudly on my gum again. I think I
did it defensively, afraid IÕd hear something even more entrancing than
what heÕd already told me.
ÒYour aunt... is of the same nature as I, though she hasnÕt discovered
it yet,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒThere is the distinct possibility, Chloe, that
when IÕve explained everything to her, she may agree to go. Oh, she may
tell herself she wonÕt pass the examination, and so why not get a free trip
to Crete? Or she may tell herself that the moneyÕs too good to refuse. Or
she may have one of a thousand other excuses to justify her going. But in
the end it will be just this: that she is young, and beautiful, and someday
wonÕt be, and while sheÕs young and beautiful she would love to experience
being a true love slave, in a real Arab harem. ThatÕs the reason she will
decide to go, Chloe.Ó
ÒExcept IÕm here,Ó I said.
ÒYes,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒA beauty in your own right. But, at 13,
someone your aunt would never leave behind, all by herself in France, in
her big house. If for no other reason, your aunt would be afraid youÕd
wreck her house while she was gone, throwing a party for some ruffians.Ó
I lay in the grass, my cheek pressed to my arms, chewing my gum.
ÒWell,Ó I said, finally. ÒIÕve always dreamed of my auntie going
away, and me meeting some dudes in a motorcycle gang, and all of us
having, like, a weally big party.Ó
ÒExactly,Ó Doctor Don said.
I looked up at him. ÒYouÕre fun to talk to, Doctor Don.Ó
ÒThanks.Ó
ÒDo, like, gay guys ever dream of fucking girlÕs bottoms?Ó I asked,
looking salaciously between his legs.
ÒAh, IÕm not permitted to desecrate the SultanÕs girls,Ó Doctor Don
said.
I looked at him. Suddenly, I blurted out: ÒThatÕs why he picked you!
Because youÕre way handsome, but a fag! That way he knows you can get
the girls, but wonÕt do anything with them.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut I am also a highly trained doctor, Chloe,
and capable of evaluating the health and worthiness of a girl. IÕm also
knowledgeable about human psychology, so that I donÕt wind up, say,
talking to a prospective female about the SultanÕs doings, only to learn
sheÕs a journalist, or a prosecutor.Ó
ÒOh,Ó I said. ÒWell, youÕre quite handsome,Ó I said. I let my eyes
gaze at his groin. He drew his knees together.
ÒChloe, if your aunt agrees to go for the examination, will you be
willing to go along?Ó Doctor Don asked.
I blew a bubble. It popped. I managed to suck it back into my mouth.
ÒI guess so,Ó I said carelessly. I was getting bored lying around my
auntieÕs house. It did sound like a grand adventure. Imagine-- being
specially prized, by a Sultan in a faraway kingdom. A Sultan whoÕd picked
you out over many other girls, and was willing to pay! ÒI could buy lots of
bubblegum afterward,Ó I said. ÒHubba Bubba. ThatÕs my favorite. Do they
have Hubba Bubba where the Sultan lives?Ó
ÒIÕm sure he would spare no expense to import it for you, if it was
really important to you, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒYes!Ó I said. ÒHubba Bubba. Tell him if heÕs got the gum, weÕll
come!Ó Then I blushed. I hadnÕt meant it to come out that way.
Doctor Don patted my bare bottom. ÒYou are an exceptional young
lady, Chloe,Ó he said. ÒAlthough my medical board would resoundingly
disapprove my telling you this, you are to be congratulated for your
willingness to share this adventure with your aunt.Ó
ÒIf you say so, Doctor Don,Ó I replied.
ÒIf I may, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒYou arenÕt wearing any
sunscreen. I now have a significant interest in the health of your body,
including your skin, if I can convince your aunt to go to Crete. I must
insist that you allow me to get some lotion to put on your back and your
legs. And if you want the treeÕs shadow over your bottom; which, again, I
must insist upon, for the Sultan prefers bunny tail bottoms, you must
scoot back again, as the sun has moved. Would you like a blanket to lie
upon, also?Ó
ÒNo, IÕm fine,Ó I said.
ÒA soda? Are you thirsty?Ó Doctor Don asked.
ÒNo,Ó I said. I lifted one of my hands and plucked at the gum in my
mouth, with my fingers. ÒBut I could use a new piece of gum,Ó I said.
ÒOf course,Ó Doctor Don said. He let me put the gum into his palm.
ÒIÕll bring a new piece right away, Chloe. And IÕm also going to mix you a
drink, non-alcoholic of course, so that itÕs here in case you feel you might
be getting dehydrated.Ó
ÒThanks!Ó I said. ÒYouÕd make a good servant.Ó
ÒI am most honored, Chloe,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut remember; if I
convince your aunt to go, youÕll go too.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I said, settling my head back into my arms. I was happy.
The sun was bright and I was enjoying myself with this big, hunky servant
who was a real childrenÕs doctor, so skilled in so many things.
ÒWhatever,Ó I said, and closed my eyes.
Doctor Don reached into the shirt pocket of his t-shirt. He drew out
a photo. I was watching him through my eyelids, pretending to have
drifted off to sleep but really gazing with frank admiration between his
knees, which had fallen open again, as he squatted beside me. I opened my
eyes when he displayed the photo to me
ÒHere. HereÕs what he looks like,Ó Doctor Don said.
ÒOh! HeÕs so handsome!Ó I cried. I saw a dark-eyed Arab staring out
at me, from the photo. He had black hair and brown skin. Upon his head
was a crown made of rubies.
ÒIt is the Sultan of Quatar,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒIf you and your aunt
pass your physicals, you will be his specially invited guests. For a month.
Then you will both be returned home, with a substantial sum of money
waiting for you, that you may spend any way you wish.Ó
I stared at the photo. Why did the Sultan have to be so handsome?
Impulsively I slid back in the grass, encouraging the sweet-smelling
blades to intrude their stems into my cunny. I shivered, despite the heat
of the sun on my back. I felt my knees slide open, farther than they
already were. I sensed a wetness between my thighs.
ÒIs he married?Ó I asked. There was excitement in my voice. The
grass stems played upon my lengthening nipples.
ÒNo,Ó Doctor Don said. ÒBut he will most likely marry an Arabian
girl when that time comes. Tradition pretty much dictates that. But
while he is still young, a bachelor, he likes nothing more than to dally
with and entertain fine European girls, like yourself.Ó
I looked at Doctor Don. ÒIÕm from America!Ó I told him. ÒIÕm just
visiting my aunt, here in France.Ó
Doctor Don grinned. ÒThen that will be splendid, Chloe, because the
Sultan likes American girls best of all!Ó
My aunt, upon being shown the photo of the Sultan, agreed to see him.
I donÕt think it was the money that persuaded her in the end; after all, she
was already well off. After a certain point money doesnÕt mean that much.
IÕm sure she appreciated the amount we were offered. I know I did--
already I was planning to buy a whole store full of bubblegum! But in the
case of my aunt, I think she simply took the idea of being paid all that
money as a show of good faith. It meant the Sultan really did appreciate
our beauty, and was willing to part with cold, hard cash in order to enjoy
our company. A good-looking guy with a full wallet is hard for any girl to
resist.
The next day my auntie and I took a cab to the airport. I took along a
whole package of Hubba Bubba. I wasnÕt sure they had any in Quatar.
ÒAuntie?Ó I said, carrying my teddy bear and my bubblegum onto the
airplane as she carried our twin suitcases. We walked briskly along the
speedway that connected the terminal to the plane. ÒAuntie?Ó I said
again. ÒIÕm going to buy a whole store with my money, one with all
different types of bubblegum. There will be lots of Hubba Bubba, of
course, but IÕm going to have all the worldÕs bubblegum in my store. In
fact, IÕm going to have a Bubblegum Museum. And to come see it, kids will
have to pay admission-- one bubblegum, so I can have even more gum!Ó
ÒThatÕs fine, dear,Ó my aunt said. A man walking ahead of us turned
and regarded us both.
ÒOh, my! Do you need help with your luggage?Ó he asked. He must
have been a frequent flyer, a businessman, for the only thing he was
carrying was his briefcase.
ÒNo,Ó my aunt demurred. ÒIÕm quite fin--Ó
ÒReally, I insist,Ó the man said. He took a suitcase out of my auntÕs
hand. I think she was a little offended by his forwardness. But I wasnÕt! I
handed him my teddy bear, and made him take my package of bubblegum
too.
ÒHere!Ó I said. ÒIÕm sick of carrying teddy all around with me!Ó
(HeÕs a rather large bear, with a big bow tie.) ÒAnd carry my gum too,Ó I
said. ÒBut donÕt eat any of it!Ó
ÒYes, of course,Ó the man said, struggling not to drop my bear as he
contended with his briefcase, my auntÕs suitcase, my bear, and my big
ÔdiscountÕ package of Hubba Bubba, that contained over 100 pieces of gum!
ÒWell, if you insist,Ó my aunt said, of a sudden, to the man. She
handed him her other suitcase as well.
What a sight he made! The man struggled up the speedway, carrying
both my auntÕs suitcases, his briefcase, my teddy bear, and my gum. Both
of us knew he wouldnÕt get anything for his trouble. After all, my auntie
and I were going to see the Sultan, or at least to be examined by his
employees, on Crete. There was no possibility at all of the poor
businessman, now weighed down with all our luggage, getting the
slightest thing from either my auntie or me, except a quick word of
thanks. Yet he clambered up the speedway with a big, foolish grin on his
face, as if weÕd handed him precious jewels. When we got inside the
plane, my aunt had him lift up our stuff and store it in an overhead
compartment.
ÒSay, could I have your phone number?Ó the man asked my aunt, when
at last heÕd finished putting all our things away.
ÒOh, no,Ó my auntie replied. ÒWe belong to the Sultan of Quatar. We
may be western girls, but weÕre pledged to obey eastern ways. The Sultan
would be extremely upset if he found we did anything like that. IÕm sorry,
but giving out our phone number is quite disallowed. But I thank you for
your trouble. Good day, sir!Ó
I could barely keep myself from giggling. When the man walked
away, disappointed, I did clap my hands to my mouth and laugh heartily.
ÒAuntie, we donÕt belong to anyone yet,Ó I told her. She looked at me.
ÒNo, but we have an appointment we must keep, on Crete, for our
physical exams. IÕm sure the Sultan wouldnÕt appreciate it if we missed
our appointment, or were late. So we must decline such silly overtures,
from men who own nothing more than a briefcase.Ó
I knelt in my seat. I turned and looked back over the top of my seat
at the rear section of the planeÕs cabin.
ÒHeÕs sitting way back in the back,Ó I said, watching the man with
my eyes.
ÒGood,Ó my auntie said. ÒHopefully heÕll stay there.Ó
ÒOh, auntie,Ó I said. ÒYou can be so cold!Ó
ÒIÕm merely choosey,Ó my aunt said. ÒBe good and sit down, Chloe.
And letÕs hope we pass our examination on Crete with flying colors!Ó
Looking back upon it, I believe the examination, though doubtless
serving a useful medical need, was really designed as the first step in our
humiliation. I remember it so well, in a private doctorÕs office, my auntie
in one room, myself in another. Had she gone first, she would surely have
prevented my being examined; had I been made to go first, I would surely,
afterward, have warned her not to do it. As it was, they examined us
together, but in separate rooms. We were locked away from one another.
My auntie asked at one point, realizing the depth of the exam, that they go
to my room and order that it be stopped.
ÒShe will be seen to, as you are being, do not speak again,Ó my auntie
was told. When she tried speaking again a woman was called. She was
breathtakingly beautiful and my auntie told me that she felt abashed when
such a perfectly beautiful creature, with a bit of disdain, asked what all
the fuss was about?
ÒAfter all, I have been examined myself, passed, and enjoyed the
SultanÕs many comforts in Quatar,Ó the woman told my aunt.
ÒOh, itÕs not about me that I complain,Ó my auntie said, feeling
inferior to the woman, and lowering her eyes, while admiring the glorious
dress the woman wore. ÒBut my niece, you see, she is in the other room.
She is only 13!Ó
ÒI was 12 when I had my exam,Ó the woman replied. ÒItÕs important
that your niece be examined. She is now a young woman. She isnÕt a child
anymore. Her health is important. The Sultan would not have her
examined if he wasnÕt concerned that she be in the very best health.Ó
ÒOh, but they are really examining her for her suitability for
copulation!Ó my aunt said. As she did, the doctor asked her to open her
mouth again. The very woman she was speaking to leaned forward, and
demanded she exhale. She did, right into the womanÕs face. The woman
sniffed.
ÒYes, your breath is sweet,Ó the woman said. ÒYour lips perfect. You
are a fine specimen for kissing and being kissed. Now spread your legs. I
must smell you down below, too. Pass me a glove,Ó the beautiful woman
in the beautiful dress said to the nurse and doctor who were in attendance.
ÒI must finger her slit and arouse it so that I may smell her when she is
on the verge of orgasm. A quick taste will be necessary too; no doubt the
Sultan will want to feast on such a pretty pussy as this!Ó
ÒOh, this is what I mean!Ó my aunt said in a high, frantic voice.
The beautiful woman reached out and pushed back my auntÕs lovely
brown hair from her face, as my aunt told me afterward. She said:
ÒDo not trouble yourself, dear. It is all quite necessary, I assure
you. Yes, of course, it is for a sexual purpose. But what in life is more
important than that, in the end? Hmmm? Where would we be without
sex? You will have an examination of your pussy in the throes of desire,
not actually cumming, for you will soon see the Sultan, if you pass, and it
is his reserved privilege to make you cum. But you will be teased, to
distraction and quite beyond. Also, your quim must be tested, right up to
the womb, for its tightness. WeÕll use a special probe for that. And your
bottomhole must be speared too, with a pressure-sensitive probe, to see
that it clenches prettily and with enough resiliency. You will be smacked,
also, on your bottom. A few marks might be made but they will disappear
shortly; it is reserved to the Sultan to mark you more thoroughly, if he
chooses. All your parts must be examined for sex play. The perkiness of
your nipples, your toes, everything, dear! Do not try to resist; it will only
send you to the Sultan with a bad report, and you wouldnÕt want that.Ó
ÒOh, my! But--Ó my aunt tried to say. The beautiful woman lifted a
finger. She pointed at the closed door of the examination room. ÒYou saw
the guard in the hall?Ó the woman asked my aunt. ÒHe is not there just to
keep malefactors out, but to keep you in. Lie back, dear. Spread your legs.
I could sedate you with a hypodermic needle in your bottom but, really, I
prefer not to do that.Ó
My aunt, as she told me afterward, relented. She hates needles. She
got a little crazy at John SilverÕs, letting herself be poked in that dental
chair, but when she is not completely distracted with erotic thoughts she
finds needles absolutely the one thing she canÕt tolerate. So, she relented.
She said she felt quite guilty, when she spoke to me about it afterward,
how sheÕd played in the dental chair at John SilverÕs but, when my safety
was on the line, had failed me rather than allow herself to be poked by the
beautiful woman.
ÒThatÕs okay, auntie,Ó I said, hugging her. ÒNeither of us knew it
would be that bad.Ó
ÒThorough,Ó my aunt corrected me. ÒLetÕs not call it bad. It was, I
suppose, in the end, thorough, though it did hurt when they spanked me.
And those probes were awful! But at least we both know weÕre quite
healthy, now. It never hurts to find that out.Ó
I looked up at my aunt. We were ensconced in an expensive hotel. It
was on Crete. Unfortunately, despite being a very nice hotel, it was a
hotel where the management was in collusion with the Sultan. We had no
hope of leaving, without being seen. In fact, we had no hope of leaving at
all, without permission.
ÒIf only theyÕd take the guards away from the front of our hotel
roomÕs door,Ó I told my aunt, looking up at her.
ÒYes,Ó my aunt agreed. Then she shivered. ÒBut IÕm slightly excited
about the prospect of meeting the Sultan. Did you see his photo? HeÕs SO
handsome! I didnÕt think an Arab could be THAT handsome!Ó
ÒNeither did I,Ó I confessed, and knew then we were both doomed to
experience whatever it was the Sultan had planned for us.
30
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