ATTENTION FELLOW FOLLOWERS OF CHRIST

         I have taken possession of RollerÕs hard disk and am ferreting 
through the contents thereof.  Herewith is a sample, previously 
undiscovered, of the depths of his perversion.  (It is my understanding that 
a.s.s. stands for Apostles of Saintliness and Sanctity, hence I post it here.)  
(cc to the a.s.s. mailing list).
  
The Honorable Reverend Throttle,
First Pruditerian Church

Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in 
ÒtemptressÓ

Chapter One

         I got my very own card to the health club on my fifteenth birthday.  
It was a relief to me.  Lots of cute guys went there, but I couldnÕt go, 
because if you werenÕt fifteen you were considered too young.  Maybe they 
were afraid IÕd meet somebody.  Well, I did meet someone.  But it wasnÕt a 
pervert.  It was a woman.  
         I still remember my first day, marching in there, presenting my 
card, proud at last not to be stuck in day care while my dad worked out.  
He didnÕt go much anymore, which I was quite thankful for.  ItÕs no fun 
having your dad looking over your shoulder, ÒmonitoringÓ everyone you talk 
to.  HeÕd gone when I was younger; eight, nine, leaving me with the kids 
and the fat woman in the back, playing Candyland.  Then heÕd gotten busy at 
work, and divorced my mom.  I hardly ever saw him anymore.  It was fine 
with me.  I think he was, at the moment, having an affair with one of his 
secretaries.  
         I surveyed the vast assembly of machines.  So many!  And lots of 
sweaty guys pouring over their workout.  I decided to begin with the 
stair-stepper machine.  I got up on it.  There was a woman beside me, 
blonde, with long tresses down to her waist.  I tried to get my machine 
started.  I couldnÕt make it go.  
         ÒWould you like some help?Ó the blonde beside me asked.  I blushed.  
         ÒI guess so,Ó I replied.  I realized as she bent close to help that she 
was younger than IÕd thought, perhaps only a few years older than me!  But 
her demeanor was one of utter assurance, complete sophistication.  She 
had a light Swedish accent.  I smelled her perfume.  It was delicious, like 
crushed rose petals; light, airy, yet with just a scent of menace, as if any 
man who let himself slip into her grasp would never escape her long, fine 
fingers.  
         With her polished nails she deftly entered the needed codes for my 
machine.  She asked if I were a beginner.  I nodded, embarrassed to admit 
that I was so new at this.
         ÒItÕs okay,Ó she smiled.  A radiant, sunshiny smile.  Her eyes 
smouldered.  Distant thunderclouds hovered beyond her pupils.  ÒI just 
joined last month.  It took me awhile to learn all this myself.  There!  Five 
minutes.  That should do you.  IÕll bet youÕll be winded after that, but donÕt 
worry, youÕll build up your endurance as time goes by.Ó
         ÒThanks,Ó I said.  There was nothing in her eyes but female 
companionship, I decided.  IÕd found a new friend.
         We worked out together, and sure enough, after five minutes I was 
pooped.  
         ÒToo many afternoons at home watching GullibleÕs Island,Ó my new 
friend smiled at me.  I nodded my agreement, my breath gasping.  
         ÒThere are other things you can try,Ó she smiled, her eyes glancing 
toward the guys in the free weight room.  I shook my head Ôno.Õ  ÒShy?Ó she 
asked.
         ÒYeah,Ó I replied.
         ÒIÕm Kali,Ó she told me.  Her voice was sweet.  Her eyes beckoned me 
to cast away my fears.
         ÒIÕm Melody," I replied.  I walked away.  I put a finger to my mouth, 
contemplating.  I think she watched me, going.  I wanted her to watch.  
With her eyes behind me I went where IÕd said I wouldnÕt, to the free 
weight room.  I guy said hello to me.  He helped me lift up a barbell and do 
curls with it.  
         I met Kali a lot at the gym, in the ensuing days.  I met some guys too.  
They were mostly older.  They helped me, but seemed afraid to ask me out.  
Jailbait, you know.  But I enjoyed their attention.
         Kali and I were on the stair-steppers together about two weeks 
later.  It was early evening, a Saturday.  There was a World Series Playoff 
going on at the time, so only a few people were at the gym.  Kali and I had 
the entire row of stairsteppers to ourselves.  
         ÒDo you go to college?Ó I asked her.  
         ÒNope,Ó she replied.  There was a smile on her face that hid a secret.
         ÒYou work?Ó I asked.  She always had very cool gym clothes.
         ÒHmm,Ó she said, half-nodding, dropping her eyes to her stair-
stepper, as if to study the codes entered there.
         ÒWhat do you do?Ó I asked.  
         ÒIÕm a sexual torturess,Ó she replied.  Her eyes met mine, blazed a 
moment, held me.  I was unmoved at first, then the words sank in.  A little 
gasp slipped out of my throat.  I did not know if IÕd heard her right.  Had I?
         ÒA what?Ó I asked.  She could see my cheeks had acquired a flush.
         ÒA sexual torturess,Ó she said again, firmly.
         ÒWhatÕs that?Ó I murmured, mouthed, afraid, tantalized.
         ÒPeople pay me to torment them,Ó Kali replied.  Her words were 
graceful, smooth.  ÒTheir genitals, you know, naked and all that.Ó  She gave 
the seat of her bottom a little slap.
         ÒLike-like a whore?Ó I asked.  I was somewhere between Never-
Never Land and the Twilight Zone, my mind drifting, my spine tingling.
         ÒA trollop,Ó she smiled.  It sounded Ôlollipop.Õ  ÒBut with special 
powers,Ó she added.
         ÒLike...Ó my voice trailed off.  IÕd heard stories, rumors at school, 
about people...what they did...what adults did.
         ÒYes,Ó she laughed.  Her voice was high, childish.
         ÒBut--How old are you?Ó I asked.
         ÒSeventeen,Ó she said.  Yes, sheÕd told me that yesterday. 
         ÒYouÕre too young to be a prostitute!Ó I blurted.
         ÒShhh!Ó A finger to her lips.  ÒNobody is too young or too old to be a 
prostitute, dear.  ItÕs illegal, donÕcha know.  Anyway, thatÕs the customerÕs 
problem, not mine.Ó
         ÒYes, I guess it is,Ó I breathed.  I did not know whether to keep 
stair-stepping or go running out the door.  Only two years older than me, 
and she was an accomplished whore!
         ÒIÕm flying to Europe next week,Ó Kali said softly.  ÒWould you like 
to cum?Ó  I swear thatÕs exactly how she said it.
         ÒI-I donÕt know,Ó I replied.  But I already did.  My mind swirled.  In 
my head I said Ôno,Õ but my conscience must have been speaking very 
softly.  ÒYes,Ó came out.  At least I think it did.  Thinking back, I might 
have actually said Ôno.Õ  But that wouldnÕt have mattered.  Not to someone 
like Kali.
***
         We stood before a large wooden door.  We were in Belgium.  ÒThe 
cherry of Europe,Ó Kali had told me it was called.  Belgium, that is.  Well, 
it had one more cherry now.  Me.  Not my cunt, though.  IÕd lost that cherry 
a year ago, with an ambitious boy in junior high.  But my virgin butt, as 
Kali was quick to teach me, counted as a cherry too.  And my mouth.  ÒTwo 
out of three isnÕt bad,Ó sheÕd smiled at me on the plane.  ÒTwo more than I 
have.Ó  I liked her.  She was frank, yet elegant.  I could discuss the most 
intimate things with her without feeling dirty.  Naughty, maybe, but not 
dirty.  IÕd asked her a lot on the plane.  SheÕd told me incredible things, 
said that was just a little of what IÕd know if I stuck with her.  Well, I 
was stuck with her now, at least for this trip.  She was totally paying my 
way, from an advance, she said, from the customer we were to meet.  
         I gulped.  The front door of the house we were waiting in front of 
opened.  It creaked.  A lady greeted us and let us in.  She was older, a maid.  
ÒHelp,Ó as they are called.  I wanted her to help me out of my predicament 
but knew it was too late.
         We were led into a study.  A young man sat writing at a desk.  He 
looked up, startled.  Then he smiled.  Kali smiled back.  I forced a smile 
from my lips.  He was quite handsome, but I was nervous.  Kali was pert, 
chic.  The man stood and walked out from behind his desk.  He was taller 
than either of us.  I looked up at him, scared.  Kali was forthright.  Her 
eyes gazed into his, her pug nose upturned, her lips sweet and hiding 
nothing.
         ÒIÕm Alex,Ó he said.  He extended his hand in greeting.  Kali nodded, 
took it, felt it, examined it.  As if looking for signs of his life force in the 
lines of his palm.  She passed his hand to me.  Anxiously I shook it, my 
fingers limp.  He squeezed my hand.  It hurt a little.
         ÒI am under stress,Ó he said, turning again to Kali.  ÒI have inherited 
a great deal of money.  My father died recently, leaving me all his 
businesses.  A Robert Maxwell type, with as many debts as assets.  I have 
had to make many decisions.  I need...Ó  His eyes wavered.  He seemed 
afraid to ask.
         ÒWhy donÕt you visit a dungeon?Ó Kali asked.  Her voice was smug, 
diffident.  As if she didnÕt care.  As a six-year-old IÕd said that to a nerd 
once.  He had no girlfriend.  ÒGo to a singles bar,Ó IÕd snapped, playing with 
my playdoh.  When I turned eight I started making penises out of my 
playdoh, but then I was too young to know.  
         Kali sat on the corner of AlexÕs dress.  Her skirt was short.  Her 
thighs showed, right to the tops of her stockings.  You could see her garter 
snaps where they held her stockings up.  They were frilly, soft.  Her legs 
were like sheathed cinnamon, well-tanned.  I guessed she had tan lines 
underneath her clothes, where her shifting breasts and hidden cunny 
waited.  Kali flipped through a phone book.  Alex stood, watching.  I drew 
close to him, clasped his hand.  It was moist.  He looked down at me.  His 
eyes caught mine, then dipped lower.  My jacket was half-unbuttoned.  I 
wore no blouse underneath, just a corset.  It did not cover my breasts.  He 
contemplated me.  I knew I should leave at once.  I was no whore, no tart!  
But instead I caught sight of his bulge, his cockstand, buried in his pants, 
rising up, a lump in his trousers.  I gazed at his bulge as he gazed at my 
curves.
         ÒCome here, you naughty girl!  Dial this number for me!Ó Kali 
beckoned.  With a blushing face I dropped AlexÕs hand and wandered over to 
her.  To maintain my innocence I let my finger rise to my mouth, catch in 
the corner of my lips.
         Kali was not fooled.  She reached down behind me, in back of me.  She 
yanked up the back of my miniskirt.  ÒSee?  She wears no panties,Ó Kali 
said to Alex.  I reddened.  I turned my head and regarded my bare tushy 
over my shoulder.  AlexÕs eyes settled on my snowy globes and he smiled a 
manÕs smile.
         ÒYou made me,Ó I said accusingly to Kali.  In hunching over to lift my 
skirt sheÕd let her own slide up farther.  Her legs were spread and you 
could see her crotch between her thighs.  Pink translucent panties, cupping 
a quim I guessed was already wet.  I knew I was.  I was trembling with my 
excitement.  There was an ache in my belly now, not butterflies.
         My dress hiked up, my cheeks huddled, cleft and softly naked, Alex 
unzipped his trousers and pulled himself out.  I emitted a little scream.  It 
was of fear, but of admiration too.  He was massive!  His thing pronged out 
at me, manly, eager, throbbing with lifeblood and dripping already at the 
tip.
         ÒPut yourself away, sir!Ó Kali scolded.  SheÕd let him take it out, 
though, perhaps to size him up, to see what we were in for.  I did not like 
at all what I was in for.  SheÕd told me IÕd have to lose my cherry on this 
trip, my butthole cherry.
         ÒNot with him,Ó I whispered to Kali.  My eyes were pleading.  She 
smiled.  Alex, stuffing himself back into his trousers with much 
difficulty, overheard.
         ÒWhat?  You will damn well screw with me!Ó Alex blurted.  He was 
the manager again, the CEO.
         ÒShe means her ass, Alex,Ó Kali said soothingly.  ÒSheÕs an anal 
virgin.  DonÕt you think youÕre too big to pop her?  YouÕre a monster!Ó  She 
grinned.  There was wickedness in her grin.
         ÒI didnÕt mean to yell,Ó Alex said.  ÒI need to get away from that.  My 
employees all hate me, right now.Ó
         ÒDonÕt worry, I can help,Ó Kali replied.  She purred like a cat.  ÒI can 
see I have my work cut out for me, with Hercules here, and Sleeping 
Beauty.Ó  She gave my bare bottom a slap.  ÒCall this number!Ó Kali 
ordered.  I looked down at the phone book.  ÒAuthentic London Dungeons, in 
Holland!Ó it read.  There was a merriness in its tone.  Carefully I looked at 
the number and punched it into the phone on AlexÕs desk.
***
         We rode in a limo.  It travelled fast.  We drove at Autobahn speeds.  
In back we sat quietly together, the three of us, watching a tv screen.  
There was a game show on, where young female contestants were relieved 
of their clothing.  It was from Italy.  Alex wanted to fuck but Kali told him 
he must wait.
         ÒYou must learn to conserve your strength sir, not always popping 
off at every moment,Ó she consoled him.  Her hand massaged his lap, his 
lump.  Alex groaned and seemed to want to do something very bad in his 
pants.  I sat with my bare hiney on the leather, my pussy hidden by the 
crease of my rucked up skirt.  Kali, her own dress hiked up in back, sat 
with her pink panties pressing into the seat.  Alex seemed to like this, 
though we gave him no more favors, saving ourselves for later.  
         Our dresses neatly restored, if only for a moment, we knocked at the 
given address.  It was a modest house, decent and law-abiding by all 
outward appearances.  A woman greeted us, let us in.  She had raven black 
hair and sultry eyes.  She was dressed in jeans, torn at the knees.  She 
wore a midriff, too short.  Underneath its ragged hem the undersides of 
her breasts showed, bare and free.  They jiggled.  I caught sight of her 
areolaes, the lower part.  Just above her nipples indented the fabric.  Her 
hair was swept up, elegantly, in sharp contrast to her informal duds.  I 
guessed sheÕd just slipped them on, to answer our knock.
         ÒHi!Ó she said.  Her voice was bright.  She brushed a strand of ebony 
hair from her eyes.  She looked as if sheÕd just come from the gym, was 
still winded.
         ÒIÕm Kali,Ó my blonde friend greeted her.  Gracefully she handed the 
woman AlexÕs American Express card.
         ÒOh yes,Ó the gypsy girl, gypsy woman replied.  She seemed almost 
as young as Kali, now that I could see her more closely.  We shuffled 
inside the house.  She closed the front door behind us.  She was 22, 23 I 
guessed.  She ran the card quickly, handed it back with a receipt.  She was 
efficient.  Business should not interfere too long with pleasure.  ÒIÕm 
Cybil,Ó she added.  Only her first name.  Kali introduced myself and Alex.
         ÒI can lock up your valuables for you,Ó Cybil told us.  We gave her our 
important things and she wrote them neatly out on a receipt.  Then she 
opened a small safe sitting in the corner of the room.  Inside there were 
separate drawers.  She placed our things in one, together with our receipt.  
I wished I could check myself inside, knew it was impossible.  Only the 
front door could offer escape now.  Cybil had locked it when she shut it.
         The safe shut with a bang.  Cybil twirled the combination lock.  She 
turned to us.  Her breasts brimmed underneath her shorn-off tee.  I looked 
apprehensive.  
         ÒYouÕre new?Ó Cybil asked me.  She could tell Kali was experienced.  
They were sisters in crime, the two of them, even though theyÕd never met 
before.  I nodded.
         ÒDonÕt worry, pain can be a great release,Ó Cybil said to me.  
         ÒShe has the ass for it,Ó Kali smiled.  Cybil walked partway behind 
me, admired my seat.  
         ÒOh, yeah!Ó Cybil said.  ÒRound as an apple.  IÕd love to polish that!Ó  
She hooked her thumbs in the worn waistline of her jeans.  They were 
unbelted.  I wondered where her belt was, if someone was using it.  On 
someone like me.  Cybil tossed her head, clearing her eyes.  Her hair was 
loosely piled.  ÒCome, IÕll serve you tea before you get started.  It will 
heat you up,Ó she smiled.
         We passed down a hall to a sitting room.  A fire crackled in one 
corner, tossing out shadows.  There were three chairs, overstuffed, one 
too few for me.  At CybilÕs urging I knelt on the floor, beside Kali.  Rice 
cakes were brought by a maid.  Kali took mine and made me nibble it from 
her palm.
         ÒShe feeds well,Ó Cybil said of me, observing.  Tea was served.  The 
cups were delicate, lavender-colored.  ÒThey are from before the war,Ó 
Cybil said.  ÒI use only the finest.  DonÕt drop them, handle them carefully.  
I would have to bill you a lot if you broke one.Ó  I didnÕt have to worry.  
Kali had me sip from her cup.  We shared.  She held the cup and I drank, 
savoring the brew.  The steam, curling up, tickled my nose.
         Alex, seated behind my back, bent down and lifted up my skirt.  
Carefully he tucked its tail under the edge of my corset, to keep it up.  My 
bottom reared, naked and exposed, a big bulb, cloven.  It shone whitely in 
the firelight.  I saw a many-thonged whip lying atop the mantelpiece.  Its 
thongs hung down, web-like, the flicking fire arching up behind them.
         ÒShe will make a delicious pet,Ó Cybil observed, gazing at me, as if I 
were nothing but a kitty in a store window.
         ÒYes,Ó Kali murmured, sipping her tea.
         ÒAre you ready?Ó Cybil asked at length.  Kali, Alex nodded.  I kept my 
chin still.  My consent was not needed, perhaps not even wanted.
         Cybil rose and led us down a hall.  As we walked, a couple passed us.  
They looked newly-dressed.  Their clothes were slightly rumpled.  ÒBye,Ó 
they said to Cybil.  ÒBye,Ó she replied.  I passed them red-faced, my 
bottom bare, not allowed to restore my dress.  The man commented to his 
wife that I had a Òwonderful arse.Ó
         I thought then that we might be escorted into some kind of Dungeon 
of Doom, Doom IV perhaps, complete with monsters wielding whips and 
truncheons.  Instead Cybil took us out back, into a leafy yard shaded from 
the surrounding houses by big maples.  Under the canopied spread of the 
trees I saw you could do most anything you wanted, provided you didnÕt 
play to loudly.  I saw a cloth lying in the close-clipped grass, stepped over 
it.  A gag.  Yes, thatÕs what it was.  Cybil, following me, bent and picked it 
up and slipped it quietly into the back pocket of her jeans.  Perhaps she 
expected to use it later.  Or maybe she was just picking up.  I felt the 
self-conscious roll of my nude bottom cheeks as she guided us over to 
three lawn chairs.  Again, there was one too few for me.
         ÒDown, Melody,Ó Cybil commanded.  She pointed to a cushion on the 
grass, beside a chair.  Kali plopped into the chair, not bothering to tuck her 
short skirt under her before sitting down.  Her pantied ass rested on the 
plastic strips of the chairÕs seat.  Her panties were so small that they 
could only keep the lower halves of her cheeks covered; though her skirt, 
settling in folds over her crotch and rear, kept AlexÕs prying eyes from 
discerning more.
         Obediently I knelt on my cushion.  I liked obeying, did not know why.  
Alex seemed discomfited as he dropped into a chair near Kali.  His pants 
bulged more than ever.  Cybil sat in a chair right next to his, placing him 
very favorably between two females, with me at his knees.  I was wedged 
between his chair and KaliÕs, as if I were an afterthought.  The sun, 
though, just now settling into the treetops, lit me with its rays as well as 
my Ôbetters,Õ illuminating most remarkably my bare bottom.  I wished it 
would hurry up and set, to hide my naughtiness in the oncoming night.
         Cybil gazed up at the back of her house, as if beckoning our eyes to 
follow.  There were windows, some with curtains drawn, others with their 
shades or blinds open.  Hers was an old house, unique in its 
characteristics, well-lived in.  I imagined all the faces that had peered 
out of those windows over the years.  Even now some of CybilÕs other 
guests might be looking out, watching us.  Did they like my bottom?  What 
would they think of me if Alex put me over his knee and spanked me?  Or 
Kali?  I shivered despite the warmth of the sunshine.  Birds flitted in the 
trees, calling, mating.
         ÒNow Alex,Ó Cybil said, turning her eyes to him, stretched out in the 
chair beside him.  ÒAs a little boy, have you ever wanted to pull your thing 
out and show it to people?  To strangers?Ó  Alex cleared his throat.  He 
seemed about to answer when, as if on cue, a maid came out,  bringing us 
lemonade.  She was nine, no older.  Alex pondered CybilÕs question as the 
maid served us.  She seemed as submissive as I.  Quiet as a stealthy nymph 
she brought three glasses on a tray, none for me.  I was forgotten.  She did 
not remark on my presence.  She was well-trained.  Alex admired her in 
her short little maidÕs dress.  She returned to the house, her bottom 
cheeks wiggling excessively, deliberately, flipping the tail of her skirt 
around.
         ÒHmmm?Ó Cybil asked Alex.  Her eyes gazed meaningfully at his 
tented crotch.   
         ÒWell...Ó Alex began.  His hands clutched his chilly glass.  I wanted 
some lemonade, had no glass of my own.  I tilted his glass to my lips and 
sipped from his.  The kitchen windows at the back of the house gazed at 
us.  I thought I saw a little head bob in one of them.  Was it giggling?  
         ÒDonÕt worry,Ó Kali said, speaking over my head.  ÒYou do not need to 
take your penis out.  It would be most improper.Ó  Her words seemed to 
contradict Cybil, to clash with her over control of this handsome male in 
our midst.  ÒIf you do, though,Ó Kali continued, Òyou cannot put it back in.  
And I assure you that I will have to punish it.Ó
         ÒThatÕs right,Ó Cybil said, piggybacking onto KaliÕs lewdness.  They 
were shrewd mistresses of this man in our midst; creative, impromptu in 
their control.  ÒAlex, youÕd best keep it tucked in where it belongs.  
Because once you take your penis out, if you do, we will have to tell you 
what to do with it.  Have you ever been to a little girlÕs tea party, Alex?  
Well, youÕre at one now, because there are three of us girls and only one of 
you.  None of us have penises, Alex, so please donÕt embarrass us by taking 
out your thing.  And especially donÕt take it out when my maid is serving 
us.  You would be very evil indeed to let a little girl see your big bad 
penis.Ó
         Alex harumphed.  ÒWho is she, anyway?  And what is she doing 
here?Ó

Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is 
copyright 1995 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.