- NND --------------------------------------------------------- Visit my FTP site: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Roller/ <--click Click, or put the address into your browser. All my stories are there. --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents JUPITER RISING Chapter Thirteen When I stepped out of the shower the 14-year-old girl was waiting for me. She had a white towel. She held it out like a robe for me to wear. I dried myself with it and then, turning, I saw myself in a cracked mirror over the bathroom sink. My God! I looked like a white-robed rock star! My hair, previously cut short, had grown long and lanky. It trailed over my shoulders and halfway down my back. My physique, partly hidden by the towel, was a sight to behold. Chicks would drool over me now! My shoulders were broad and powerful, my neck thick as an oxÕs yet with an aristocratic mien to it, matching my royal-looking face. All my features were fine-sculpted and symmetrical now, from my powerfully thrusting jaw to my square nose and my stern-looking forehead. Yet I had the gentleness of good breeding in my eyes. I could be ruthless if required but I could also be just and upright, I thought, gazing at myself. I turned and took off the towel, reluctantly. A robe seemed to suit me well, I thought, but of course I couldnÕt rescue Lisa wearing a bath towel! ÒThank you, Persephone,Ó I said to the young girl, and wondered again how I knew her name, and why it was such a long and complicated name. ÒPluto has something for you to wear,Ó the girl said in a soft submissive voice. She bowed her head as she spoke, as if I was too great for her to look at directly. (Though, indeed, sheÕd peeked quite readily at me, I noticed, when I first stepped out of the shower and when I was admiring myself in the mirror!) At her speaking, I frowned. ÒPluto?Ó I asked. For a moment an image of Mickey MouseÕs dog flashed in my mind. It was one thing to be growing more powerful by the minute without even making use of my 24 hour fitness membership. But now was I to have audiences with Disney cartoons? A memory of Lisa jolted me. WeÕd had such fun at Disneyland! I rushed into the next room. A low fire was the only heat in a spartan square space, about the size of an apartment living room. Pluto was holding some clothes for me and had turned, with Hephaestus, to gaze further down the hall. In the distance, at the end of the hall, next to a book case that had been shoved to one side, was a large crack. I gazed past the two men toward the crack. Even in the low light cast down the hall by the fire there was something remarkable about it. It seemed to go on forever; an illusion, no doubt, owing to the poor lighting. ÒI swear I didnÕt know there was that big crack back there,Ó Pluto was saying to Hephaestus. ÒProbably the recent earthquake opened it up,Ó Hephaestus answered. ÒShit, I hope this whole place doesnÕt cave in on us while the cops are banging around upstairs,Ó Pluto said. The men walked from the room into the hallway, approaching the crack. I guessed theyÕd already examined it but they obviously wanted another look. I had no chance of rescuing Lisa if we got turned into sardines. Naked, I followed the two men. Persephone stepped lightly after me. As we approached the crack at the end of the hall I thought I saw someone on the other side of it. ÒOh, fuck!Ó I hissed, thinking somehow that a cop had gotten down into the cellar. Pluto and Hephaestus drew back a little, bumping into me, as surprised as I was. And the next second our little scare got a lot bigger: it was the man Hephaestus had killed on the bus, the driver! He looked at me, at Hephaestus, and at Pluto. His eyes seemed to linger on Pluto for a moment and then returned to Hephaestus. ÒDown, shade!Ó Hephaestus suddenly barked. He raised his cane and shook it at the man heÕd murdered. The driver quivered; I realized then that he was more shadow than man. No man could ripple like that, even with the greatest fear! Hephaestus turned to Pluto. ÒThis man is your affair now,Ó Hephaestus said to Pluto. ÒWhat- what am I supposed to do with him?Ó Pluto asked, incredulous. Persephone, standing behind me, spoke up. Her voice was confident, not submissive like before. ÒWe must not judge him. We must comfort him on his journey to oblivion,Ó Persephone said. Pluto turned and looked at her. ÒI see youÕre the resident expert on this shit,Ó Pluto said. ÒYes,Ó Persephone said. Her voice was soft and caring. Lightly she stepped past me, brushing me aside with utmost tenderness, as one might move aside a cherished lover. Then she slipped past Pluto and Hephaestus too. Standing at the mouth of the crack, she spoke to the driver. ÒGo down,Ó she said. ÒThe world above is not for you. The time has passed when you may live under the sun. Go down and wait for your loved ones to join you. All humanity goes where you must go, down into the depths. You will not be alone for long.Ó The driver obeyed. Flitting with the agility that only a shadow, detached from any man, could possess, it flickered and then receded deeper into the crack. Owing to the already poor light it seemed to vanish. Perhaps it did vanish. I stepped up to where Persephone was standing and looked through the broken wall. There was nothing but blackness beyond, with just the faintest sort of illumination, not coming from the fire behind us, that was for sure. In this spectral hole anything might have hidden. I saw no bottom, no walls, a kind of endless abyss. I shivered and stepped back. ÒI have some clothes for you,Ó Pluto said to me, bringing me back to a healthy sense of reality there in the dimly lit hall. He handed me a pair of jeans. I unfolded them. One of the knees had been torn, for the sake of art or from use I wasnÕt sure. The jeans had no belt. The legs were ripped. It looked as if someoneÕs dog had eaten away the end of each of the pants legs. ÒSorry. Short notice,Ó Pluto mumbled. ÒTheyÕll do,Ó I said. I pulled on the jeans. ÒDo you have any shoes?Ó I asked Pluto. ÒWeÕve been making love down here for a few days. We donÕt have much of anything at the moment,Ó Persephone said to me in an apologetic voice. Pluto handed me a shirt. It was little better than the pants; buttons allowed me to close it around my stomach, which was flat and hard now, not soft like before. But for my powerful, sculpted chest, there was no covering, for the shirt had no buttons farther up. The sleeves at least werenÕt ripped, like the pants legs were. They were long and flowing, ending in large 1970Õs style cuffs. Or perhaps they were more in the style of the late 1960Õs, IÕm not an expert on American culture. As for the shirt collar, it was wide like the shirt cuffs, but somewhat torn. The Òclothing dogÓ had been at work on the collar, I suppose. ÒIf I was black and had a guitar I could try to pass for Jimi Hendrix,Ó I told Pluto. ÒWe found them folded up in a corner,Ó Persephone said. She smiled. ÒI was rather hoping weÕd find nothing and IÕd get to keep you naked.Ó ÒSorry,Ó I said, and grinned at her. Did the girl have something for me? I think she did! And she was damn cute! A slender girl, with newly- grown tits, long legs, a waist narrow enough to breathe around both sides of. If this had been a sex story, instead of real life, IÕll bet I would have been on the hallway floor with her the next minute, fucking her brains out. Alas, as Hephaestus handed me my gun, formerly the copÕs, I knew that despite my spectacular physical development I was still trapped in the real world. ÒYou need a shower or anything?Ó I asked Hephaestus. He sniffed himself, his ragged homeless clothes. ÒNah, IÕm used to stinking,Ó he said in all honesty. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -- More stories at: http://groups.google.com/ Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net Click on ÒPower SearchÓ Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive. -- Other providers: IFLC: http://assm.asstr.org and http://asstr.org AnyaÕs LilÕ Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/ Silver: http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies The Backdrop Club: http://www.backdrop.com Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated -- Great art books by David Hamilton and Jock Sturges are at: http://www.amazon.com http://bn.com (photos of naked little girls) -- Naked little girls/politics: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Man/boy love: http://www.nambla.de Politics: http://www.lp.org http://www.isil.org http://www.fear.org http://www.fija.org http://www.aclu.org -- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller. Dreamgirls, Naughty Naked Dreamgirls, and NND are registered trademarks of Andrew Roller. All rights reserved. -- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html Or at /~Roller/index.html (It is case sensitive, i.e. type Roller, not roller).