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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
THE FRUITS OF DESIRE
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Chapter Fifteen
The trees rustled in the darkness. Passing breezes stirred them to
life, only to depart again, marooning them in becalmed blackness under the
stars. The house standing amidst the trees was quiet. Its windows were
closed against the night.
In his bedroom, which was not really his bedroom but only the bed of
a slave, waiting for punishment, lay Mark. His body was horizontal but his
penis was vertical, stiff in expectation of the coming day. What would
Katrina do to him? How would she use him? Would he really be flogged?
And what about Amanda and Kelli, whom he felt responsible for? He had
no way to help them with his hands helplessly bound behind him by
handcuffs. Mark tossed in his bed, both dreading and impatient for
KatrinaÕs return. Once he called out for Patrick, but the man did not come.
Another time he called for Bobbi and Sue but there was only silence in his
room. His door was closed and he thought he had heard Katrina lock it,
though he couldnÕt be sure. Finally he resolved to get up and put his
shoulder to the bedroom door and break it. Yes, he would do that, but there
was no hurry. He would lie abed just a minute more, and develop his plan
more fully. They would not be flogged, after all, until morning. He had
time. And the bed was so comfortable...
Mark awoke with a start. Good God, it was morning! He could tell by
the increased light beyond the drapes of his bed. He looked at his dick. It
was as hard as ever, harder even, stiffly fresh with the morning. Mark
was wondering if he could still execute his plan, putting his shoulder to
the door, when he heard a key in the lock. Yes, the door must have been
locked after all, for now he heard the click of it opening and then the
hinges swinging, and footsteps. They were the light click, click, click of
womenÕs shoes coming across the floor toward him.
The drapes along the right side of MarkÕs bed opened. A head popped
in. Dark curls spilled in abundance from it. Pretty catÕs eyes gazed at
Mark.
ÒDo you have to go to the bathroom?Ó A soft, lilting voice asked
Mark.
ÒUh, yeah,Ó Mark said.
ÒGood,Ó was all Katrina said in reply. Then she bent forward, and
Mark saw she was naked, for her breasts came through the drapes now, big
and heavy and sporting stiff rosy red nipples. Katrina put her mouth to
MarkÕs. She kissed him full on the lips. At the same time she reached
down with one of her perfectly manicured hands and felt MarkÕs penis. It
was like a rod in her hands, stretching her fingers to their limit as she
tried to completely grasp it. Mark fearfully clipped his thighs together as
Katrina inhaled his breath. He thought this would protect his balls from
her seeking hand but Katrina knew MarkÕs anatomy better than Mark did.
She reached down, and there were MarkÕs balls, not covered by his thighs
but actually pressed up by their closing, much as a water balloon,
squeezed at one end, bulges more at the other. Katrina plucked a hair from
MarkÕs balls. Mark winced. Then she fondled them more gently, but with
apprising fingers, as one might feel a bag of gold to find how many coins
are stuffed into it.
Mark lay uncomfortably, as he had all night, with his hands under his
ass. The effect of this was now made even more clear to him as Katrina
kissed him. For as Mark squirmed against her seeking tongue, which
invaded his mouth, he was aware of how vulnerable he was, with his hands
actually pushing his hips higher than the rest of himself, making a display
of his cock and balls.
ÒMmmm, very good,Ó Katrina said at last, and stopped feeling MarkÕs
balls.
ÒCan I get up to use the toilet now?Ó Mark asked Katrina. Gratefully
he breathed in real air after a full minute of enjoying only the perfumed
air of her mouth.
ÒYou may get up, but not to use the toilet,Ó Katrina said.
Mark rose stiffly from the bed. It was difficult to rise with his
hands uselessly pinned behind him. Finally he managed to sit up. Then
Katrina escorted him out of his drape-covered bed and made him stand
beside it, on the floor. There was a wool throw rug on the floor and Mark
felt the luxury of the wool under his feet. He liked that rug, but now he
wished he were back in his bed, for as he stood there, needing to go to the
bathroom, Katrina picked up a candle. She lit it, despite the fact that the
room was illuminated by the daylight beyond the curtains. She held it over
MarkÕs dick.
ÒWhat are you going to do with that?Ó Mark asked in alarm.
ÒIÕm going to drip wax on your penis,Ó Katrina said.
ÒBut why?Ó Mark asked.
ÒBecause it is the fourth day, and I want to hear you scream,Ó
Katrina told Mark in her soft voice.
ÒEEEEYOOOW!Ó Mark suddenly hollared, as the first droplet of wax
struck his penis.
Many more followed, and each one burned as it plopped on MarkÕs
dick. He remained stiff, however, for despite the pain it was only a small,
localized amount each time. Unfortunately the wax had one very
unpleasant side effect. Mark discovered this when Katrina finished.
ÒCan I go to the toilet now?Ó Mark asked, wriggling his hips in
desperation.
ÒOf course,Ó Katrina said. She picked up the cup she had given Mark
the night before, when sheÕd offered him a drink of water. It was empty
now. She put it under the end of MarkÕs dick. ÒHere, pee in this,Ó Katrina
told Mark.
ÒTHANK GOD!Ó Mark gasped. His dick quivered.
Katrina looked at MarkÕs penis. The cup was still empty.
ÒWell?Ó Katrina asked Mark.
ÒI-- I canÕt,Ó Mark gasped.
ÒSo you bothered me about something you donÕt even have to do?!Ó
Katrina asked hotly.
ÒNo-- you donÕt understand,Ó Mark said. He gaped at himself. ÒItÕs
the wax. ItÕs dried over my pee hole!Ó
ÒOh,Ó Katrina said. Her catÕs eyelids fluttered. She smiled. ÒDonÕt
worry. I have the answer for that,Ó Katrina said. She put the cup back on
the table beside the bed. She sashayed over to the dresser, on which the
hot plate sat. She opened a drawer at the bottom of the dresser, bending
over to give Mark a magnificent view of her ass. She was naked now, and
Mark gorged on the sight of her lovely round bottom, presented so
perfectly and prettily to his eyes. If only he werenÕt cuffed! If only he
didnÕt have wax all over his dick! He would have raped her instantly, both
in her snug cunt and in her bottom!
Katrina stood erect. Mark was trembling now, he had to go to the
bathroom so badly.
ÒHurry!Ó Mark begged.
ÒOf course, dear,Ó Katrina said. She turned. ÒI didnÕt know you were
so eager for the whip.Ó
ÒOh my God!Ó Mark cried. For dangling delicately in KatrinaÕs hand,
as if it were an innocuous toy, was a leather whip. It was small, but
devilishly so, for its little handle and thin cord were perfect for whipping
a knockwurst. Or, in the case at hand, a manÕs penis.
Swish! Katrina whisked the whip through the air as she approached
Mark. Her lovely naked bosoms bounced each time she flicked her wrist.
She was careful how she swung the whip, for her flesh was white and
delicate and her rosy nipples were making a fine display.
ÒMmmmm,Ó Katrina purred as she approached Mark and looked at his
member.
ÒYou canÕt do this to me!Ó Mark gasped.
ÒOh, but I can!Ó Katrina said. Then she licked her lips and, to prove
that she could, she brought the whip down hard on MarkÕs cock.
ÒOW!Ó Mark cried, as a small bit of wax flaked off his dick.
ÒSee, darling? It works,Ó Katrina said.
ÒYes but it will take all morning!Ó Mark groaned.
ÒNot if I start with the pee hole,Ó Katrina smiled.
ÒNo! Not there! OOOOCH!Ó Mark cried.
A bit of wax flaked off MarkÕs dick, where his pee hole was. Katrina
struck him twice more. Then, with MarkÕs penis still well-coated in wax,
she took the cup off the table again, and held it to his dick.
ÒPee,Ó Katrina said.
Mark pissed. It was strange peeing with his dick all hard and wax-
covered, but he did it anyway, for he was desperate. He overflowed the
cup and Katrina scolded him but he didnÕt care, he just kept peeing.
Fortunately he was standing on the wool rug and so it absorbed much of
his tribute. At last he finished. Katrina led him off the rug. ÒLetÕs
continue,Ó she said. She struck him again with her whip. Mark remained
hard throughout the ordeal, helplessly hard, as she removed every last bit
of wax from his organ with stinging blows of the whip.
For three days Katrina had tended to Amanda and Kelli, and Mark had
not seen her. Katrina had bathed the girls, and perfumed them. She had
done their hair and their nails, not once, but several times each day, so
that when Mark met the girls on the previous day he had been struck with
how lovely and beautiful they looked. They had, indeed, taken on the
appearance of pampered sacrificial animals. Their personalities had
changed subtly too, after the three days of preparation. They were spoilt,
accustomed now to having everything done for them, and doing nothing for
themselves.
During the three days they had been tied once per day. The first time
had been to enjoy their bellies. This seemed rather unusual to the girls
since, being young and active, they had no bellies. Beneath their breasts
were flat expanses of smooth flesh, leading down to the bones of their
hips, each belly marked by the single, inward-looking dimple of their
navel. Nonetheless Katrina tied the girls face to face, between two
closely-spaced posts. Kelli was put on a wooden box so that her belly
would be level with that of her aunt. Behind each girl, pressing to the
small of her back, were two pillows. The pillows were tied to the post
that held each girl. The effect was to have each girl, otherwise bound
with her back up against the post, forced to arch out her belly.
ÒYes, look at yourselves, with your bellies sticking out in front of
you,Ó Katrina told the girls. ÒSee how you will look when you are
pregnant. Now your backs are arched, due to the pillows, which forces you
to stand with your bellies presented. But when you are pregnant there
will be no need of pillows behind your backs. Then you will stand straight,
but with a heavy burden inside your stomach, growing and kicking and
moving. And the pain of delivering such a burden, after nine months of
carrying it, is only the beginning. Then it will not only kick, but scream
too. And it will make messes. You will be holding it and feel it soil
itself, and you too, if you do not keep diapers around its loins. It will poop
as you cuddle it and it will poop in its bed. Anything you put into its
mouth will quickly come out of the other end. And it must be fed every
few hours. It will scream for its meals and scream for attention. It will
wake up and scream, when you are asleep. And it will scream sometimes
because it has nothing better to do, being, after all, little more than a
mouth connected to lungs and a poop machine. Ah, girls! Think how lucky
you are right now, with your bellies presented because of the fact that
IÕve tied you. If I take off the ropes, you are yourselves again, freed from
the difficulty of standing with your bellies forced out in front of you. But
for an expectant mother, there is no hope of such freedom. Rub your
bellies together now, and enjoy the feeling of them. How slim they are!
How sylph-like! How young and graceful you both are. But you yearn for
male attention and we know what they yearn for-- to stick themselves in
us and impregnate us! Would you not both, thanks to your yearnings,
already be expectant mothers, if it were not for birth control? Yes, girls,
enjoy your slimness and your freedom. Rub your bellies! Enjoy the
softness and the emptiness of them, for it is only ropes which you endure
now, tied on by myself, a woman. Imagine how you will be bound when a
man has done to you what all men desire, chaining you with the passion of
his seed!Ó
And so Amanda and Kelli had rubbed their bellies, and enjoyed their
freedom within the roped-off confines of their captivity. The next day
they had been tied again, this time to each other. They had felt not only
their bellies but their bosoms pressed hard together, as well as their lips.
Katrina had trained them to kiss. When they had learned their lesson,
joining their lips and invading each other with their tongues, she had
blindfolded them. Then, in the mouth-watering darkness, they had been
fucked. They had not known who the man was who invaded their cunts and
spermed them. But he had been stiff and fervent, and eager, and he had
left a deposit of himself in each of them. Except for a pill administered
to them before they were tied, the man would have made both of them
sport the bellies Katrina had warned them about the day before.
Finally on the third day Katrina had tied the girls bottom-to-bottom.
She had encouraged them to squirm. She had played a feather in each of
their nests so that they wiggled their asses against each other.
ÒYes, girls, tomorrow you will feel the whip,Ó Katrina had told
Amanda and Kelli. ÒNow you feel the softness of your friendÕs bottom upon
your own, white flesh pressed to white flesh. Your silken cheeks rub with
distracted abandon against your friendÕs delicate ass, but imagine how it
will be tomorrow! Then there will be no soft pillow-like flesh pressed
against your own naked arse. Instead you will feel sharply applied
leather, or the firm thudding smacks of a wooden paddle. Or perhaps your
master will choose the martinet to discipline your backside, whose cords
are soaked in brine beforehand, to make them stiffly inflexible, so that
they imprint themselves with wicked ease upon your naked ass. Ah, girls!
How saucily you have walked about within this house, disdaining panties,
loving the nakedness which I have permitted you! DonÕt think I havenÕt
seen the sexy gleam in your eyes. I have watched you smile as you planted
your pretty bottoms in eighteenth-century chairs. I have seen you giggle
as you enjoyed the feel of your bare flesh on expensive silk. You would pee
on the potty and then, after a quick wipe, settle yourself into a chair
whose value is thousands of dollars. You would poop and then sit bare-
assed on a chair a collector would pay a great deal for! And I have
encouraged you of course, for I love to see how wanton girls like
yourselves will become, if only they are given a little encouragement! It
makes you all the more deserving of the whip.Ó
And so Katrina had teased the girls in this way, pampering them,
then scolding them, but doing it all in a ritualized way, so that the girls
were left perplexed as to what their true fate was. Indeed Katrina was so
skillful in her training of the girls that by the end of the third day Amanda
was secretly looking forward to any punishment that might befall her.
She yearned to be tied and to taste the whip. She wished to savor its
maleness, its implacability, after three long days of cloyingly soft
femininity. Even little Kelli, hopelessly spoiled after the three days,
yearned for a bit of firmness. She found herself turning into a brat. She
wished to be bitted and broken to remind herself that there was more to
life than her desires. And so it was that, at the end of the third day, when
Kelli screamed out, seeing handcuffs waiting for her, she was not entirely
dissatisfied.
The girls spent the night in the same bed, as they had for the last
three days. But on this night Katrina did not stay in their room with them.
Instead Katrina went to MarkÕs room. Patrick stayed with the girls. He
had Bobbi and Sue dress the girls in silk stockings. A garter belt, looped
about each girlÕs belly, held her stockings aloft. New shoes were put on
her feet. The shoes had four inch heels and the girls were made to wear
their shoes to bed. Also, waiting in the bed for each girl, which caused
Kelli to scream when she saw them, was a pair of metal handcuffs. Each
girl had these clipped onto her first, fastening her wrists behind her, so
that she could be dressed quickly and easily.
Patrick insisted on giving each girl a large glass of water before she
went to bed. The girls blushed and drank the water, their hands fastened
behind them, unable to resist the water as Patrick poured it into their
mouths. Then, with each girl full in her belly with water, Patrick tossed
them side by side onto the bed. He made them lie on their tummies. As
they lay there, side-by-side, their hands uselessly cuffed behind their
backs, Amanda and Kelli began to kiss. At first it was a tentative,
consoling kiss that they shared, to quiet their fears. But as their lips
touched, first once, then again, then once more, the girls became
passionate. Finally they were thrashing upon the bed, desperate to knee
one another to orgasm. But Patrick insisted that they remain on their
bellies. He would not let them mount one another. And so at last the girls
lay quivering, their bellies hot and moist upon the bedsheet, feeling their
need for each other but unable to fulfill it. They fell asleep that way. But
PatrickÕs night-time amusement was hardly over. A few hours later Kelli
awoke, alarmed.
ÒI have to go to the bathroom!Ó Kelli announced in the darkness.
Patrick, sitting by the girlsÕ bed, gave a low chuckle. ÒThen get up,
my dear, and use the chamber pot. Here it is. Shall I turn on a light for
you?Ó Patrick got up and turned on the girlsÕ bedside lamp.
ÒOh, but these cuffs!Ó Kelli wailed.
ÒThey do not prevent you from rolling out of bed, and walking over to
the chamber pot,Ó Patrick told Kelli.
And so it was that Kelli went to the bathroom that way. She
struggled out of bed by herself, and walking with rapidly scissoring legs
over to the chamber pot. There she squatted and peed like some pretty
animal. How beautiful she looked, dressed in her silk stockings and garter
belt, with new shoes on her feet. Yet how debased at the same time, for
despite the refinement of her stockings and shoes she was forced to plop
down on the toilet and piss. The sound of her urine whizzing into the pot
was loud in the room. When she finished, while she still sat upon the
toilet, pee dripping from her slit, Patrick insisted on giving her a new
glass of water, to replace what sheÕd peed out.
ÒOh, but IÕm not thirsty!Ó Kelli wailed.
ÒA busy bladder is a happy bladder,Ó Patrick answered. ÒI would be
remiss if I didnÕt keep my little mare well-watered.Ó Then he brushed her
long hair, as she continued to sit abjectly on the potty. He enjoyed the
soft lustre of her long locks, and her pretty sighs, and the completely
surrendered look on her face. Finally he wiped her, with a tissue. Then as
Bobbi and Sue emptied the chamber pot, Kelli made her way back to bed.
She walked with her hands still trapped behind her by the police
handcuffs. She flopped down on her belly, next to her sleeping aunt. This
night-time visit to the toilet happened several times during the night.
Once, teetering across the wooden floor on her heels, Kelli almost fell.
But Patrick was quick and watchful, and caught her before she hit the
floor. He righted her and made her walk the rest of the way herself. She
did so with her hands uselessly clipped behind her, which caused her
bottom and breasts to quiver haplessly as she tottered over to the toilet.
When Kelli was asleep, Patrick was not without amusement. For it
was then that, inevitably, her aunt awoke. Now Amanda went to the toilet
in the same haphazard way, tottering on her heels, sitting with her hands
cuffed behind her as she peed. Once both girls awoke at almost the same
time. Amanda was forced to sit at the edge of the bed and beg her niece to
hurry, keeping her thighs tightly pressed together as her niece pissed
open-legged on the pot.
ÒOh, hurry! Please, Kelli!Ó Amanda pleaded.
ÒIÕm trying, auntie. But I think I have to poop too!Ó Kelli answered.
And she did poop, eventually, but only after almost forcing her aunt to wet
the bed.
And so the night passed, with Bobbi and Sue kept busy emptying the
chamber pot, while Patrick enjoyed re-filling the girlsÕ bellies after each
of their pees. But as dawn broke the girls could no longer fall back to
sleep. For now it was not just their bladders which would be asked to
perform for PatrickÕs pleasure, but their bottoms as well.
As Kelli laid beside her aunt, listening to AmandaÕs nervous
breathing, she thought she heard voices coming up from the floor. One of
the voices said,
ÒI saw a little girl today.Ó
ÒReally?Ó another voice asked.
ÒYes,Ó the first voice said.
ÒWell I am sitting here reading some nerdy virginÕs sex story, so
why donÕt you tell me about it? IÕd much rather hear about real life than
some silly sex-capade, written by someone whoÕs never had sex!Ó
ÒOkay,Ó the first voice said. ÒI must say, though, I was quite blown
away by this girl. You see, IÕd just been reading a Naughty Naked
Dreamgirls story. And in this story there was a girl. She was maybe 13,
or maybe 12. I canÕt quite remember. I was sort of, like, you know,
focusing on other aspects of the story...Ó
ÒHmmm. Yes. I know what you mean,Ó the second voice agreed.
ÒBut anyway I stopped reading the Naughty Naked Dreamgirls story
and went out to eat. To a restaurant. And as I was sitting there, eating
my dinner, and reflecting on the Naughty Naked Dreamgirls story, I saw
this girl.Ó
ÒWhat did she look like?Ó asked the second voice.
ÒShe looked like sheÕd just stepped out of the story IÕd been
reading!Ó proclaimed the first voice. ÒI mean, IÕll bet feminists read a
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls story sometimes. And they probably say, ÔWhat
is this? The girl is 12?! And she has big boobs?! And sheÕs blonde?!Õ But
thatÕs exactly what this girl looked like, at the restaurant. She was 12.
She had big boobs. And she was blonde.Ó
ÒSo she was pretty cute, then?Ó asked the second voice.
ÒYes!Ó said the first voice. ÒCute?! This girl was AWESOME! Truly,
she was the most perfect girl IÕd ever seen. Just like the girl in the story.
Look, donÕt take my word for it. IÕll describe her for you, point by point,
and you can see for yourself. Plus, you can take comfort in the fact that
this girl REALLY EXISTS. SheÕs not just someone invented by some
pervertÕs imagination.Ó
ÒWow. Let me unzip. Okay. Tell me about her,Ó the second voice
said.
ÒYes! Gentlemen, start your engines!Ó said the first voice.
ÒWhat happened?Ó asked the second voice.
ÒMy zipperÕs stuck,Ó said the first voice. ÒOkay. There. IÕve got it
down now.Ó
ÒI wonder whose is bigger?Ó
ÒProbably mine.Ó
ÒYeah, sure.Ó
ÒAnyway, let me tell you about her,Ó said the first voice.
ÒOkay,Ó the second voice said.
ÒNow I shall begin my description of this perfect Naughty Naked
Dreamgirl-type girl at the top of her head. First, she was blonde.Ó
ÒYou said that already.Ó
ÒIt bears repeating. She was blonde, honey blonde, and she had her
hair pinned up, loosely, just like a Naughty Naked Dreamgirl! It made her
look very sexy.Ó
Ò12-year-old girls arenÕt supposed to look sexy,Ó said the second
voice.
ÒWell,Ó said the first voice. ÒLike I said, this isnÕt some sex story
invented by a pervert. This is REAL LIFE. This girl REALLY EXISTS. Maybe
the feminists wish she didnÕt, but she does.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó said the second voice. ÒEnough about the feminists. IÕm
losing my hardness.Ó
ÒNow this beautiful blonde little girl, who was 12, and had her
blonde hair loosely pinned up, had a perfect face. I mean, it was TOTALLY
perfect. There was not any flaw. She had a perfect snub nose, and perfect
full lips. Furthermore, she was beyond perfect.Ó
ÒBeyond perfect?Ó asked the second voice.
ÒYes!Ó said the first voice. ÒHer eyes had very long lashes. That is
the first thing I noticed about her. She looked like she was wearing
mascara on her eyes, her lashes were so long and full. But she wasnÕt!
And I know for a fact that she wasnÕt, because she had an older sister, and
the older sister had the same type of lovely eyes.Ó
ÒWow,Ó said the second voice.
ÒNow if you are wondering if there was any flaw at all on this
blonde 12-year-old girl, I must admit, there was one possible flaw. She
had a sprinkling of freckles on her face. Presumably a girl looks better
without freckles. But, on the other hand, some would say that a girl looks
more All-American with freckles. So, anyway, this particular blonde,
with the lovely eyes, did have a light sprinkling of freckles. But if you
consider a few freckles to be an advantage, making her look more All-
American, sort of like Jenny McCarthy, then you would conclude that this
girl was flawless.
ÒNow I must move on to the next aspect of her beauty. Her bosoms.Ó
ÒYes, donÕt leave those out,Ó said the second voice.
ÒObviously, her chest was not full-grown,Ó said the first voice.
ÒAfter all, this girl was only 12, or 13-years-old at the very most. But
she did have quite nice tits. They were large, and full, and growing. I was
quite impressed by them. They werenÕt just standard Ôbreast budsÕ like
you see on some 12-year-old girls. They were real, full, growing bosoms.Ó
ÒWow,Ó said the second voice.
ÒI see you are quite hard now,Ó said the first voice.
ÒKeep going! I may be very soft soon,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes, well, watch your aim then,Ó said the first voice. ÒAnyway,
now I shall proceed to this blonde girlÕs waist. She was wearing a shirt
that left her belly bare.Ó
ÒYEEEEEOOOOOOOOO!Ó shouted the second voice.
ÒDammit! Watch where youÕre going!Ó said the first voice.
ÒSorry,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes, well, she had a very beautiful, flat 12-year-old belly. Flat and
SOFT, you know? Not flat and hard, like some 22-year-old who only
manages to have a flat belly because she does 3,000 sit-ups every day.
No, this 12-year-old girlÕs belly was flat and soft!Ó
ÒIÕm getting hard again,Ó said the second voice.
ÒNow as for her hips,Ó said the first voice. ÒThey were well
developed. She had a perfect pair of bell-shaped hips. Nice and round, and
high, you know what I mean? Some girls have hips that look sort of saggy,
as if theyÕve got a U-HAUL attached to their ass. But not this girl! She
had nice ÔhighÕ hips, if you know what I mean.
ÒAs for her legs, they were in perfect proportion to the rest of her
body. Like I said, this girl was perfect. Everything about her was perfect.
The ratio of her upper body to her lower body, and her overall size. Truly,
she looked like sheÕd just stepped out of the Naughty Naked Dreamgirls
story IÕd been reading!Ó
ÒWhat was she wearing?Ó asked the second voice.
ÒShe was wearing a shirt that bared her belly, plus bell-bottom
jeans,Ó sad the first voice. ÒShe looked quite cute in her bell bottoms,
with her bare waist and tummy. Indeed, even her shoes were perfect.Ó
ÒAh, yes! DonÕt forget those! I love little girlsÕ shoes!Ó said the
second voice.
ÒIndeed!Ó said the first voice. ÒNow there are some guys who like
womenÕs shoes. But frankly I canÕt stand womenÕs shoes. Whenever I even
think of womenÕs shoes, I think of Imelda Marcos. Or I think of my mother,
getting corns on her feet, and crappy stuff like that. But little girlsÕ
shoes are like a living dream! I know a guy who saves fliers, from
clothing stores. He will tear out the page featuring little girlsÕ shoes and
pin that page of the flier up on his wall.Ó
ÒWow,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes,Ó said the first voice. ÒNow in the case of the little girl at the
restaurant, she had perfect shoes. They were open-toed sandals. You
know, kid-type sandals. They were flat on the bottom, but with a raised
heel. So she was, in effect, wearing high heels, but they were kid-type
high heels. They made her look quite cute and sexy.Ó
ÒWow,Ó said the second voice. ÒThis does truly sound like the
perfect girl.Ó
ÒYes indeed,Ó said the first voice. ÒI even managed to say ÔhelloÕ to
her and she said ÔhiÕ back to me very sweetly. Sweetly and confidently.
She was sort of like a confident little puppy dog.Ó
ÒArf! Arf!Ó said the second voice.
ÒWatch where you aim that damn thing,Ó said the first voice.
ÒI like puppy dog girls,Ó said the second voice. ÒProvided theyÕre
totally beautiful. Well maybe even if theyÕre not totally beautiful.Ó
ÒWell this one was totally beautiful, so youÕve got no worries
there,Ó said the first voice. ÒAnyway it was nice seeing her. ItÕs nice to
know that there truly are real Naughty Naked Dreamgirl-type girls in this
world. Not just 19-year-old Dreamgirls, like you might see in Playboy,
but little girls too!Ó
ÒYes indeed,Ó said the second voice.
ÒWell that concludes our Internet Radio Show for today,Ó said the
first voice. ÒBut weÕll be back on your computer tomorrow, with more
wonderful sightings of beautiful little girls.Ó
ÒHopefully,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes, hopefully,Ó said the first voice.
ÒIf weÕre not too busy reading sex stories,Ó said the second voice.
ÒAbout little girls,Ó said the first voice.
ÒAnd older girls too,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes, we mustnÕt forget them,Ó said the first voice.
ÒBut they must be girls,Ó said the second voice. ÒBona fide girls.
None of that GQ, Maxim crap!Ó
ÒYeah,Ó said the first voice. ÒI canÕt stand that magazine, Maxim!
Get a load of their logo: ÔThe best thing to happen to men since women.Õ I
mean, like, the second best thing, I suppose, to happen to men was the
fragmentation grenade.Ó
ÒYes,Ó said the second voice. ÒYou can either have Lorena Bobbit,
with her knife, or you can have the fragmentation grenade. Take your
pick.Ó
ÒI wish Maxim would quit sending me their damn advertising,Ó said
the first voice. ÒI must get a dozen ads a year from them. In my mailbox,
you know? Just because I jerk off to Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Taboo,
Barely Legal, Cheri, Tight, Club, Club Confidential, and Club International,
Maxim thinks I want their damn rag.
ÒI know!Ó agreed the second voice. ÒPlease! If I canÕt jerk off to it,
I DONÕT want it! Unless itÕs a cute little girl. Little girls I value for
themselves. But as for women, I only value women for their jerk-off
potential. I mean, in terms of magazines, you know? If the woman is like
Barbara Tuchman, a historian, and writes history books, IÕll admire her for
her mind. But I donÕt need to see Barbara Tuchman naked. And I donÕt need
some magazine like Maxim, with no masturbation value whatsoever,
telling me how great women are.Ó
ÒThatÕs right,Ó agreed the first voice. ÒIf a woman is a great
historian, like Barbara Tuchman, then fine. IÕll admire her the same as a
male historian. It makes no difference to me that sheÕs a woman. But this
Maxim rag, itÕs like, you know, SELLING women. Telling me that women
are really great, and I should want to sleep with them, and have
relationships with them, and stuff like that.Ó
ÒGrody stuff,Ó said the second voice.
ÒYeah,Ó agreed the first voice. ÒGRODY! I mean, I would enjoy having
a relationship with a 12-year-old girl, but not some woman!Ó
ÒI wholeheartedly agree,Ó said the second voice. ÒThe only exception
I would make is this: If I had a 12-year-old girlfriend, and eventually she
got older, then maybe I would still know her, since I knew her when she
was young and cute and pretty, and a virgin.Ó
ÒRight! You have it exactly,Ó said the first voice. ÒBut if sheÕs
already a woman, and has had lovers, and isnÕt a cute little girl anymore,
then let some other dumb fuck sleep with her. I donÕt want her!Ó
ÒMe neither,Ó said the second voice. ÒItÕs sort of like if you went to
a restaurant, and they said, ÔYou have to pay full price to eat here, but all
you can have is leftovers. You can only eat off of OTHER peopleÕs plates.
You get to eat what they didnÕt want.Ó
ÒExactly,Ó said the first voice. ÒIf IÕm going to pay full price, I want
a brand new meal. Especially since IÕve never had a girlfriend.Ó
ÒWell IÕm glad weÕre in complete agreement on that point,Ó said the
second voice. ÒNow hopefully we will see more cute little girls, and
report on them to our Internet audience.Ó
ÒYes!Ó agreed the first voice. ÒJust because youÕre some nerdy guy
whoÕs never had a date, donÕt give up. DonÕt buy into the Maxim philosophy.
LITTLE GIRLS are the best thing that ever happened to us. NOT used
women, who have had many lovers.Ó
ÒThatÕs right,Ó agreed the second voice. ÒStick with the Naughty
Naked Dreamgirls philosophy. You DESERVE a cute little girl, not some
woman whoÕs Ôbeen there, done that,Õ and who lost her virginity a decade
ago.Ó
ÒWell now we have a cause, in addition to our radio program which
reports on sightings of lovely little girls,Ó said the first voice.
ÒYes!Ó said the second voice. ÒBut weÕll have to give it a name.
Hmmm. Let me think. I know... G.I.R.L.S. Gorgeous Innocent Ravishing
Little Sluts!Ó
ÒSluts?Ó asked the first voice.
ÒYou know how it is,Ó said the second voice. ÒTodayÕs virgin 12-
year-old is tomorrowÕs 14-year-old sexpot.Ó
ÒHmmm. Change Sluts to Sexpots and maybe IÕd like that better,Ó
said the first voice.
ÒOkay,Ó said the second voice. ÒWeÕll call our cause G.I.R.L.S. As in...
Gorgeous Innocent Ravishing Little Sexpots.Ó
ÒFor nerds, who need a girlfriend!Ó said the first voice.
ÒBut a cute, virgin girlfriend!Ó said the second voice.
ÒYes!Ó agreed the first voice. ÒWeÕre signing off now, but write to
your congressman, and tell him, ÔI need a cute virgin girlfriend!ÕÓ
ÒOr better yet, tell him to quit toadying to those damn feminists.
Then you could probably get a girlfriend quite easily, if there werenÕt so
many damn laws inhibiting the modern American male.Ó
ÒI agree,Ó said the first voice. ÒBack in the frontier days, a man
could go out into the woods, and chop down some trees, and then marry the
cute virgin who lived with her family in the cabin nearby.Ó
ÒRight,Ó said the second voice. ÒBut the modern man is reduced to
the Maxim way of life, pursuing non-virgins who couldnÕt care less about
him anyway.Ó
ÒYeah, itÕs a total ripoff,Ó agreed the first voice.
ÒWell thatÕs our broadcast for today,Ó said the second voice. ÒBut
even though our broadcast is ending, our cause is only beginning. Our
cause for G.I.R.L.S.!Ó
Kelli continued to listen, but she did not hear anything more beyond
that.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-----Back issues (and stories): http://www.deja.com/
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive.
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-----Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
Or via the Web:
Eli the Bearded: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
ArtÕs Erotic Stories and Photos: http://www.eroticstories.com
AnyaÕs LilÕ Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/
-----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place
in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges:
Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
-----Great sites:
http://www.nambla.org
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1999 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. All rights reserved.
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
-END OF story EMISSION