---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
FEVERED FALL
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jim walked over to where I lay. He and Robin gazed down at me. In
my mirror I could see both of them. They stood over me for quite some
time, their penises erect, each of them sporting a foley catheter that ran
out of the tip of their hard cockhead and coiled down to a waiting pee bag.
Now and then pee would run out of their penises and down along the inside
of the catheters. They peed freely, without any control over themselves.
The catheter in each of their bladders kept them open. However, they still
controlled their sperm. No catheter ran from their urethra down to their
testicles. IÕm sure, with their penises still hot and glowing from the
itching lotion, they wished their catheters allowed them to sperm freely
instead of to pee.
Meanwhile, I lay on the low wooden table. My head and hands were
bound. My feet were bound and spread apart. My small childÕs bottom
wiggled salaciously, its saucy hemispheres seeming to invite the
punishment IÕd been told I deserved.
I hated the waiting. They knew I hated it and so the men spent their
time boasting to each other how red theyÕd make my bottom.
ÒWeÕll be able to fry eggs on her fanny when weÕre done with her,Ó
Jim said to Robin.
ÒYeah, and we may as well eat them off her too,Ó Robin answered.
ÒIÕd love to lick egg yolk out of her ass crack.Ó
My aunt enjoyed seeing me suffer without being touched. What a rich
punishment-- nobody laid a finger on me, so I could hardly complain at
being ill treated, yet because I knew I was going to be spanked I could
think of nothing but my precious bottom, and how soft and cool it felt, and
how uncomfortable it would be once the man had punished me and my aunt
had penetrated my ass with her wicked dildo.
ÒOhhh, ohhh, ohhh,Ó I moaned, hoping to get a reprieve. I told them I
was only 13 and that I didnÕt want to be here and that they should respect
me. The men laughed. My aunt, telling me she knew a good spanking was
quite needed by every girl once in a while, promised sheÕd Òdo rightÓ by
me, meaning, of course, that IÕd be walloped!
Nothing I said dissuaded them. I think it amused them that I was
embarrassing myself in front of the neighbors with my childish
imprecations. They knew weÕd never visit here again, so any
embarrassment I caused myself was only temporary. I blushed, thinking of
how the neighbors, overhearing me, would now be expecting to hear my
screams when the whip fell. I imagined those Arabs sipping their
afternoon tea, smiling silently to each other, waiting. They were dark-
haired, but I was blonde. I was a rarity in this part of the world. They
would savor the special treat of a white tourist brat being soundly
punished. The fact that I was being punished by my own aunt, I think, must
have made them even more delighted.
As for my aunt, she puttered around our bondage cell, straightening
things and seeing what was available. She was the first to try out our
toilet. As the men watched, she sat down on it, holding her big fake penis
out over the rim of the toilet. It would not fit in the toilet itself. She had
to pull the penis up at an angle so the balls would be shifted forward and
not be wetted when she peed. Then she drew the rubber loin strap out of
her cunt and peed like any girl, while still holding the impotent fake penis
in her hand. How strange she looked, squatting on the toilet, the sound of
her urine splashing down into it, while she held a stiff erection up and
away from herself, with nothing coming out of it.
At last my aunt finished her pee. She wiped herself, then stood up.
Then she did something quite curious; she bent down and opened a door in
the front of the toilet. She pulled out a bowl. Her pee sloshed in the bowl.
She picked it up and went to the front door of our cell. She knocked on the
door. After a moment, I heard it unlocked from the outside. A guard
opened the door.
ÒMy pee, sir,Ó Rebecca said to the man respectfully.
ÒAh yes,Ó the guard answered. He took the bowl from her. She
waited while he did something with it and then, after apparently rinsing
the pee bowl, returned it to her.
ÒMay we have some food?Ó Rebecca asked, taking back the bowl.
ÒIf you wish,Ó the guard said. ÒHow are you, ah, coming?Ó
ÒFine,Ó my aunt said.
ÒNo weÕre not!Ó I shouted. How could she possibly tell him we were
fine when both Jim and Robin had catheters up their dicks and I was to be
spanked?!
ÒI shall see about the food,Ó the guard said, ignoring me. He shut the
door. I heard it lock again. My aunt turned. The key hanging from her
collar dangled like a lost promise. Why had she asked for food instead of
insisting we be released?!
ÒAuntie,Ó I said, catching my breath from my futile yelling. ÒAuntie,
I have to go to the bathroom!Ó
ÒGood,Ó my aunt said.
ÒWhat?!Ó I cried.
ÒI said good,Ó Rebecca told me in a teasing voice.
ÒThen I can get up?Ó I asked. ÒI wonÕt take long on the potty.Ó
ÒOf course, dear,Ó Rebecca replied.
My bottom wiggled with delight and anticipation. At last! I would
be free! I did need to use the toilet, although I could possibly have waited
a little longer. I bucked my hips with glee, as if needing to go quite badly.
I remembered ancient days when IÕd gotten out of first grade math by
getting a bathroom pass.
I watched as my aunt walked over to the medical supplies, near the
medical table. She picked up a foley catheter and attached it to a pee bag.
ÒAuntie! What are you doing?Ó I said.
ÒIÕm going to put a cath into you,Ó my aunt replied.
ÒWhat?!Ó I shouted. ÒBut I thought--Ó I didnÕt bother to finish my
sentence. I was too breathless with fright. I knew, too, that she had only
been responding as a mother sometimes does, saying Ôof course, dearÕ to a
child without really listening. She had no intention of releasing me. As I
gave a self-pitying whimper, my mind hit on a new stratagem.
ÒBut auntie!Ó I cried. ÒI have to do number two!Ó
ÒWhat?Ó my aunt asked. Implacably, she oiled the end of the
catheter.
ÒI have to poop!Ó I yelled.
ÒI canÕt hear you, dear. IÕm working,Ó my aunt said.
ÒI have to poop!Ó I shouted in my loudest voice. Both Robin and Jim
broke into roars of laughter. Even my aunt started laughing. I blushed;
realizing my shout had probably been heard by the entire village.
ÒShould I put a colostomy bag up your butt, as well as a cath up your
pee hole?Ó my aunt asked. Her voice sounded deadly serious.
ÒNOOOOOO!Ó I cried. ÒI donÕt really have to poop!Ó I said in a loud
voice. Then I flushed, realizing that at least half the village had heard my
sudden denial. I burst into tears, but the men only laughed, and Rebecca
walked over to me, carrying the catheter and pee bag.
As my sobs lessened I realized two of our guards must be standing
outside our window, for I heard one of them speak:
ÒI saw a little girl today,Ó he said.
ÒReally?Ó the other guard asked.
Both Jim and Robin paused in their constant dick thrusting, and
listened. Even Rebecca paused, holding her pee bag. I wriggled my bottom,
feeling the itching lotion burn inside my hole, but I couldnÕt help
wondering at the guardÕs words. Why was he noticing little girls, and why
bother to tell his friend about one?
ÒYes,Ó the first guard said. ÒShe was 12, no older. She was one of
those tourist girls. I saw her from our limo as we were driving. What a
beauty!Ó
ÒWhat did she look like?Ó the second guard asked.
I couldnÕt believe it! I mean, sure, I was only 13, but still, I was a
teen! Why were those two men discussing some 12-year-old child?!
ÒShe was blonde,Ó the first guard said. ÒShe had her hair pinned up,
like a woman.Ó
ÒWow,Ó the second guard said. ÒIn the olden days even tourist girls
couldnÕt pin their hair up until they were older. It was a sign of maturity,
and only teenage girls who were ready to Ôcome outÕ and date boys were
allowed to pin their hair up.Ó
ÒReally?Ó the first guard said. ÒWell, let me tell you; I really
wondered if this 12-year-old was still a virgin, she looked so perfectly
accoutered. She had several gold rings on each of her fingers, and her hair
was pinned up with finesse. There was one strand hanging down, in front.
One strand. Otherwise, her hair was pinned up absolutely perfectly! And
that one strand, hanging down so delicately over her eyes, it looked as if
it had been planned to hang there. NOTHING was out of place on this 12-
year-old, not even the supposedly Ôout of placeÕ strand!Ó
ÒWow,Ó the second guard said. His voice sounded awed. Then, after
a pause, as if he were imagining the girl before him, he said: ÒWell, any
girl might have a fine hairdresser, but what did her face look like.Ó
ÒPerfect!Ó the first guard said.
ÒYou like the word ÔperfectÕ,Ó the second guard said.
ÒLike Mark Twain said, ÔWhy should I struggle to find a different
word each time, like some human thesaurus, if one word fits perfectly?ÕÓ
ÒThere you go again,Ó the second guard said.
ÒWell, anyway, this girlÕs face was perfect,Ó the first guard said.
ÒIt was small, with a... uh... perfect small little nose, perfectly set eyes,
and a perfect small little rosebud mouth. And the whole shape of her face
was, you know...Ó
ÒPerfect?Ó the second guard asked. His voice sounded amused and
slightly bored now.
ÒYes,Ó the first guard said earnestly. ÒLike a small oval. Her face
was shaped like a perfect, small oval. And she had, like I said, that
perfect hair, with the perfectly out-of-place strand hanging down.Ó
ÒAnd perfect rings on her small, perfect fingers,Ó the second guard
laughed.
ÒWell, yes,Ó the first guard said. ÒSo, anyway, I figured she was
with her boyfriend, considering how Ôdecked-outÕ she looked. But then I
saw she was with her mother. Her mother was driving. And the girl, she
had this little cordless telephone. She put it up next to her face as if to
talk, and then, childishly, she drew it down and punched some numbers
into it, as if she had forgotten to dial before she began talking.Ó
ÒMaybe she was excited about going to a party,Ó the second guard
said.
ÒPerhaps,Ó the first guard said. ÒBut she was utterly calm and
demure. She was quite composed.Ó
ÒI thought you were going to say she was perfectly composed,Ó the
second guard volunteered.
ÒThat too,Ó the first guard said.
ÒWell, thatÕs nice,Ó the second guard said. ÒWhen I get enough money
from my guard duty IÕm going to get me one of those girls. Provided sheÕs
still a virgin, of course. I donÕt want one of those American or European
women whoÕs been having sex all over the place since she was 12.Ó
ÒUnless itÕs with you,Ó the first guard laughed.
ÒWell, of course itÕs okay if itÕs with me!Ó the second guard said.
ÒMaybe I wonÕt fuck her right away, if sheÕs only 12. I mean, it would be
fun to live with a little, perfect virgin for awhile, just have her around,
you know?Ó
The first guardÕs laughter increased. ÒYouÕd fuck her the minute you
got her inside,Ó he jibed. ÒAnd youÕd tie her down, too, if she complained.Ó
ÒNo! No!Ó the second guard said. ÒWhat need is there for me to fuck
her, as long as I know sheÕs not sleeping with somebody else?Ó
ÒItÕs a race, though, donÕt you think?Ó the first guard asked. ÒIf you
donÕt take her, somebody with more guts will.Ó
ÒBut I mean, IF she were loyal to me, wouldnÕt it be nice just to have
her around as a virgin for awhile?Ó the second guard asked.
ÒI suppose so,Ó the first guard said. ÒBut thatÕs the problem. These
girls love to flirt and tease, and they do get fucked pretty young these
days, voluntarily. Let me tell you, friend. If she likes you, youÕd better
take her all the way, right away. Otherwise youÕll wake up to find sheÕs
been popped by somebody else.Ó
ÒWell how about if she was nine?Ó the second guard asked. He
sounded rather angry. ÒHow about if she were only nine? Could I keep her
and not fuck her then?Ó
ÒYou mean, live with her?Ó the first guard asked.
ÒYeah. Live with her, but not fuck her,Ó the second guard said.
ÒWell Hell, if sheÕs nine, she probably would not be up for any sex
yet, so, yeah, I guess then you could live with her, and not have to worry
about coming home and finding the boy next door in bed with her.Ó
ÒWell, thatÕs the answer then,Ó the second guard said, triumphantly.
ÒHuh?Ó the first guard asked.
ÒIÕll get a 9-year-old girlfriend, instead of a 12-year-old.Ó
ÒYou can both be virgins together,Ó the first guard said.
ÒDonÕt insult me,Ó the second guard said. ÒI think it would be rather
nice.Ó
ÒYou could both play Monopoly together,Ó the first guard said.
ÒWell,Ó the second guard said. ÒTell me this, then. What if that
tourist brat, the 12-year-old, what if she came up to you right now and
told you she wanted to live with you, but you could tell that she wasnÕt
yet ready for sex?Ó
ÒDespite her perfect hair?Ó the first guard asked.
ÒYes,Ó the second guard said.
The first guard didnÕt say anything for a moment. Then, finally,
rather grudgingly, he said, ÒWell, in that case, I guess IÕd live with her,
but weÕd play Monopoly.Ó
ÒHA!Ó the second guard said. ÒNow let me ask you this: Would you
rather live with the 12-year-old, and just play Monopoly, or would you
rather live with her mother, and have sex the minute you both get inside?Ó
ÒSex with the mother?Ó the first guard asked.
ÒYes!Ó the second guard said.
ÒI donÕt give a hoot about her mother,Ó the first guard said.
My aunt cleared her throat. She muttered something. The guards
must have stepped away from the window, because their conversation
became harder to hear, and soon I couldnÕt hear it anymore.
With the guards gone, I sensed a heightened enthusiasm in the people
standing over me. I looked at them in the mirror; how sensual they looked,
stark naked, the men rampant and my aunt bending down over me. She
patted my pert bottom gently, belying what she had planned for it later on.
ÒDonÕt hurt me, auntie!Ó I screeched.
ÒIÕll try not to,Ó Rebecca answered. With aplomb she reached down
between my spread thighs and opened my cuntlips with the tips of her
fingers. Perhaps to be deviant, perhaps to help me, she touched the
already oiled tip of the catheter to her mouth. Her tongue protruded,
licked it, once, then she reached down and poked it into my peehole.
ÒYeeeeHOOOOOCH!Ó I squalled. Rebecca laughed and shoved it in
deeper.
ÒBe quiet, dear, unless you want to entertain our neighbors,Ó
Rebecca warned me. ÒItÕs got to go all the way up into your bladder.Ó
ÒNOOOOOooo!Ó I wailed. Then, catching my breath, and feeling the
cath go deeper still, I begged, ÒGag me! Oh, please gag me if youÕre not
going to spare me!Ó
ÒCertainly not,Ó my aunt answered. ÒPerhaps at home I would, to
preserve your reputation with our real neighbors. But not here, darling, in
this windless desert where only a handful of Arabs can hear. Here you
must learn to control your screams yourself, if you do not wish to bring
yourself embarrassment.Ó
ÒBut the Prince! The Prince! He watches TOOOOOOO!Ó I quailed. But I
knew that weÕd all since grown accustomed to the cameras, lost as we
were in our lust. The Prince was far away, and what he might be seeing, if
he cared to watch, was too remote and cerebral a concept for us to pay
heed to now. (Nevermind that in a month I might be seen peeing all over
Europe, in video stores.)
And so, drowned in our passion, unable to stop if weÕd wanted to, my
aunt proceeded to catheterize me. I felt shocked when she announced that
all my pee had run out of me and into a pee bag. IÕd not even felt it!
ÒQuite a load,Ó my aunt said, hefting my bag.
ÒWell, now that sheÕs lost a load, it should be replaced,Ó Robin said
in a high, quick boyish voice.
ÒYes, of course,Ó my aunt replied. ÒBut first I have something for
Jim.Ó
My aunt walked away. Her bare hips rolled enticingly. In front of
her, I could see her big strap-on dildo wobbling like a lost submarine.
When she returned, my aunt was carrying a velvet red cushion. I
wondered at it, watching it with my eyes, my eyes rolling in my head as I
watched, big and blue, my upturned face limited in its movements by the
padded neckhole through which my head had been thrust. The odd thing
about the cushion was the way my aunt held it. She didnÕt carry it
alongside her, hanging down from her hand, as one would suppose she
would. Instead she held it with both hands, reverentially, holding it flat
as if it were a plate. Upon it I thought I saw what sheÕd been brandishing
at us all afternoon; yet now she seemed to be making a presentation of it
to Jim, as if it were some kind of a gift!
How ridiculous to make a gift of something intended to make horses
run faster.
ÒSir, if you will do the honors,Ó my aunt said with bright-eyes to
Jim. She seemed to like the ceremony that the presence of the cushion
portended. She lofted it up to him, as if serving him dinner, but really she
was serving him her riding crop.
Jim took the crop from her. He showed it to Robin. In my mirror I
saw his eyes glow with mischief. Then, as quickly as heÕd taken the crop,
he put it back on the cushion. I felt the breath flow out of my lungs with
heartfelt relief. Perhaps I would be spared!
ÒI have whipped many in my time,Ó Jim said. ÒYou do the honors.
SheÕs your neice. IÕm afraid I might hurt her. She is quite young.Ó
ÒYou want me to?Ó my aunt asked. She looked at the crop and
seemed a little like a bank robber unsure what to do with a bagful of
marked bills.
ÒYouÕre a woman. YouÕll know better how to whip such a young girl
without injuring her,Ó Jim said.
ÒHe just wants to concentrate all his attention on jacking off,Ó
Robin said. I thought I detected a note of disappointment in his voice, at
not being asked to flog me.
My aunt looked at Robin. ÒWell, IÕm not going to let you do it, in any
event,Ó she said to the boy. ÒYouÕre 15, and I have some experience with
15-year-old boys, gained in the back seat of their cars. You may fuck her,
but the whip, well, you would not use it with the right technique. It must
be applied with technique, especially on one so young as Chloe. You cannot
just flog away like its football practise or something.Ó
ÒWe donÕt have riding crops in football,Ó Robin said. ÒThe ball is
pointy at two ends and...Ó
ÒI know what a football looks like, dear,Ó Rebecca said. She looked
at Jim again. ÒDo you really think I should?Ó she asked. She gazed down
at my bottom. One of her hands lifted from the corner of the cushion and
wandered across its surface. She took the crop. She held it. She dropped
the cushion and licked her lips. The cushion fell upon the floor and was
forgotten. Robin kicked it out of the way.
My aunt leaned over me. The fake penis mounted on her pussy
hovered menacingly over my tush. Lightly she brought the crop down to my
ass. She began stroking my cheeks with it. She used the looped tip to
caress me. I felt as if she was making love to me with the implement.
ÒOoooh,Ó I breathed, on the other side of the pillory. It stood tall
between my back and my head.
My aunt continued to stroke my bottom. I flexed my cheeks. I could
sense my bottomÕs allure, so white in contrast to my surrounding skin,
well-tanned by the sun. My aunt divided my cheeks by pressing the stick-
like part of the crop into my cleft. My ass twitched. It pressed deeper.
The pallor of my rumpÕs skin was like a white, new-risen moon. A
pumpkin moon in a land where the air was clean and clear.
ÒChloe, you have been quite naughty,Ó my aunt said in a shy,
tentative voice. I felt she was trying to work up the nerve to do to me
what apparently something deep in her yearned to do.
ÒI know,Ó I breathed, in a small voice. At once I gulped, disbelieving
that I could have said such a complicitous thing.
ÒSo we agree you have been naught?Ó my aunt asked. Her voice
sounded more certain now. Still she seemed to have a slight wisp of the
beggar in her voice, asking, not telling.
ÒYes,Ó I said. I said it softly, but I knew she heard me, for she
straightened up in alarm at hearing it.
ÒShe has been very naughty,Ó Jim said in a reassuring voice to my
aunt. He patted her behind with his hand, which caused her to stand even
more erectly, shocked at the connection of his hand there, against her
bare, unmarked skin, even as she contemplated turning mine rosy red.
ÒI shall have to whip you very hard, Chloe,Ó my aunt said to me. Jim
massaged her bottom with his broad palm.
ÒOne for every one you give,Ó he said to her, in a deep, masculine
voice. My aunt looked at him and I saw her throat work.
ÒYes,Ó she said, gulping. Jim leaned over and kissed her on the
mouth. Their kiss lasted a long time. All the while I lay wiggling,
wiggling, waiting for what IÕd agreed to, my oiled hole burning, my ass
cheeks bulging soft and cool. Robin stroked himself with his fist. But he
did it slowly, savoring the moment, not wanting to lose himself (and his
chance to buggar me!)
My auntÕs bottom moved in slow, liquid motions against JimÕs palm.
He held it there, against her slowly undulating skin, feeling the soft
roundness of her bareness.
ÒYes!Ó my aunt said, when she suddenly tore her mouth away from
Jim. She lifted the riding crop high into the air above me. Then she
brought it down, quick and hard, and I shouted.
ÒOWeeeeeeee!Ó I cried. I bucked upon the table. I shook my tushy and
felt a searing line of heat where the crop had found me. I was divided four
ways in back now, a cleft between my cheeks, and a red angry line across
the summits of my ass.
My punishment was just beginning.
A tearing sound was heard, of the crop moving with force and
velocity through the air. A moment later and it connected with my ass. At
once I shouted, hard and loud, the air rushing out of me, bursting from my
lungs, as a second weal joined the first already on my bottom. I knew then
I wouldnÕt sit for days.
ÒWow, youÕre really giving it to her!Ó Robin crowed. He gazed at my
ass with exultant eyes. He rubbed his dick faster. He seemed suddenly
heedless of the consequences of his desire.
ÒHOOOOOOOOO!Ó I yelled in a long, passionate scream, as the third
cropstroke cracked across me.
ÒWhippings are best delivered on the bottom, for it heals the
quickest,Ó my aunt said to Jim. There was cool sensuality in her voice.
She arched her back, making her ass protrude, and said, ÒArenÕt you
forgetting something, dear?Ó
WHACK! As soon as heÕd been reminded, Jim let loose with a
bottom-thumping hand slap. My aunt shouted. It was very hard-- she
dropped her crop on the floor.
Warily, when her shout had faded and died, my aunt bent over to pick
up her crop. JimÕs hand hovered. I was shedding tears profusely by now
and wished to God heÕd whack her again, as she was bending over, but he
preferred to wait.
When my aunt struck me anew, bringing a flood of tears from me,
Jim slapped her bottom hard, so that she herself began crying.
ÒAh, we have both been naughty,Ó my aunt gasped when she recovered
her voice.
Afterwards the guards brought us buckets of ice and we sat in them,
my aunt and I, cooling our butts side-by side. We kissed as we sat there,
calm and free in our sexuality, still sobbing a little, our breasts bobbing,
our hands clasped. The dildo still hung from her pussy, brazenly hard, but
Jim and Robin, inspired by our contrition, by our willingness to suffer, had
loosed themselves on the floor. Their penises drooped. Their catheters
still pierced their penis tips but they had managed to spurt jism in spite
of being plugged up by the catheters. Sperm ran along the outside of each
tube, looking spooky as pee continued to flow down the inside.
ÒGod,Ó my aunt said. It was a murmur, between breaths that we
stole amidst our ever-present kiss.
ÒI wasnÕt fucked,Ó I said. My eyes were closed. Tears still ran down
my cheeks.
ÒYou are too small in back for what I had planned for you,Ó my aunt
said.
And that was it. The guards escorted Jim and Robin out. Neither
complained. They seemed to be delighted at what theyÕd experienced, even
if theyÕd both become overexcited. They were granted a release by the
head guard and given their freedom.
My aunt and I, rising stiffly at last from the ice-packed buckets, our
bottoms still flaming, our knees week, stood and received our own
freedom from the head guard. He conferred it to us in the name of the
Prince. We were told that the spirit we had shown in punishing ourselves
had greatly moved him. I wanted to ask about the SultanÕs fate but then
decided not to; I would not see him again, I was sure, despite our intimate
acquaintance on a previous evening. If he lost himself, there were other
men all too willing to take his place, who were as yet amply endowed.
I felt then like a bit of a vixen; saving some men, only to doom
others.
When we had been granted our freedom my aunt and I turned to each
other and kissed again. We kissed long and lovingly, not leaving the room
or anything you might have expected; being, as we were, newly freed
prisoners. Instead, overcome by emotion with what weÕd both
(successfully) passed through, we kissed and kissed.
ÒThey would never have shown such affection before,Ó the head
prince intoned, speaking to his other guards. ÒBut the crop brought them
to it. Now they can show each other their deepest, heartfelt love, without
fear of embarrassment.Ó
ÒWow. A benefit to being whipped,Ó Robin said, his voice awestruck.
ÒSure. ItÕs spurred them to love, just like it spurs a horse to win,Ó
the head guard said.
THE END
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Find the box labelled ÒMain ArchiveÓ.
Change ÒMain ArchiveÓ to ÒComplete ArchiveÓ.
Next, do you see a blank box labelled ÒPower SearchÓ ?
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen
that has ÒPower SearchÓ written next to it.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over
a decade, itÕs AlessandraÕs Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION