Hello, Germany! Remember the V-2?
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
Issue No. 123
alt.zines alt.sex.stories
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
Love Child
Part Sixteen
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Three
�You have a hairy butt crack,� Mandy told Arthur. She walked up
behind him and tugged at some hair in his ass. �Yuck!� she said. �How
disgusting!� Then, obviously not disgusted in the least, she poked her
finger into his hole.
�OWWW!� Arthur growled. He stood erect, forgetting his toe-
touches, and glared behind himself at Mandy. It was incredible, all of
us naked, fiddling with each other�s intimate parts, watching as
passion coursed through one or the other, climaxes surging, retreating.
Mistress, usually a paragon of restraint, rubbed herself a little
between her legs, so hot was the mood in our little kitchen, the
sausages sizzling on the grill as we waited to fill our hungry bellies. I
touched myself too, watching Arthur do his toe touches.
�Mandy, try not to stick your finger up Arthur�s ass, however
inviting it might appear,� mistress told her. She worked over the
stove, her cheeks rosy, her breath quickening as she toyed with her clit.
�It�s totally disgusting,� Mandy exclaimed. She walked round in
front of him and took hold of his cock instead. He shuddered anew, but
seemed to find some new strength and did not cum. I watched as his
balls tightened again, the sac drawing up until it seemed to be painfully
taut. Glad that Arthur would not keep us away, I quickly joined Mandy
at his front. Still diddling with my own private, I played my fingers
over his as well. We exchanged glances. Mandy, seeing masturbation
would not be discouraged, found her own sweet spot and hunnied it up a
bit with her fingers.
There was a chinning bar in the storeroom. It was, no doubt, for
exercising, so a male staying long days down here would not lose his
muscles. Arthur took hold of it and hoisted himself up and down on it,
biceps bulging, while Mandy and I continued to entertain ourselves with
his penis. All the while we kept fondling ourselves. Our breath became
increasingly fast-paced, even as Arthur huffed and puffed on the bar.
Mistress watched us playing out of the corner of her eye. Her own
breath was more rapid, her fingers strumming over her little private
bud while she cooked us breakfast. Happily, if breathily, she hummed a
tune, plotting new perversions for us. All our inhibitions were gone.
We were bare-ass naked, and very randy. Our tits wobbled, tender teats
erect as Arthur. Our bottoms wiggled with pent-up desire. Our legs
squeezed together and then flexed apart, like little girls waiting
outside a restroom that was locked and in use. Yet peeing was hardly
on our minds. We were already wet there, and wished to be wetter
still.
�Come, kids,� mistress said gaily. She laughed, took her hand
away from her own nest. �I mean, come, as in it�s time for breakfast!�
Savoring my own arousal, I desisted in frigging myself, and batted
Mandy�s hand away from her own cunt.
�Don�t!� Mandy reproved me. She returned her hand to herself,
eager to have her orgasm. With gentlemanly care Arthur took her wrist
and lifted her fingers from her cunny. They were wet with her dew. He
kissed her hand and then cleaned her little digits with his tongue, one
by one, as a father might kiss each of his baby�s toes. Mandy watched,
intrigued, and did not try to pleasure herself with her other hand.
�Tickle me,� she commanded at last. She was eager to continue
the game.
Arthur slapped her soft belly. �Into the living room, tummy girl!�
he told her. �Let�s see if we can get something into that belly of yours
besides Lucky Charms!�
�Oh, okay,� Mandy relented. But, walking ahead of him, she was
visibly agitated, her legs jittery and her bottom wriggling with her
pent-up need. I followed, my own hips swaying like some mare in heat,
inviting the stallion none-too-subtly to mount me. Arthur, himself
fighting down a surging of his lively sperm, walked behind me stiff-
legged, awkward in his gait. Mistress got us plates and napkins and
arranged us for our meal. She served us steaming cups of hot cocoa
along with our food. Then she took off her chef�s hat and her apron and
joined us. Arthur eyed her bush. He seemed glad that it was hidden no
longer.
TEXT CORRECTION:
Insert this paragraph in place of the existing one (in NND122):
�But I cannot have flapjacks without a sausage to go with it,�
Mandy insisted. I nudged her. Mandy and Beavis. She did not catch my
meaning. �Mommie always browns me a sausage with my flapjacks,�
she continued. She was feeling protected and infantile this morning, I
think, being the littlest amongst us, demanding her breakfast.
�Otherwise they are too gooey and syrupy, plus meat is good for you.�
Z I N E R E V I E W S
by holy joe
The Joe Boob Report, 5/1/95, free. 8 1/2� x 11�. Joe Boob Briggs,
P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221.
Review: The Movie Channel�s Joe Boob Briggs weighs in with another
one of his nifty movie-oriented newsletters. Specifically he is interested
in drive-in movies. You can even get free movies in the mail from Joe
Boob. Just write to him and tell him you want to join one of his movie
reviewing committees. Our own Andrew Roller was a member of the
Science Fiction movie reviewing committee. But he finally quit because it
was interfering too much with his masturbating. (Why he didn�t join the
Porno reviewing committee is beyond me--Joe Boob has one of those too.)
Page four of this issue features one of Roller�s all-time favorite
masturbation goddesses-Julie K. Smith. (I even got hard over this photo,
and I�m supposed to be a pedophile!) Julie Strain, on page 6, isn�t bad
either. P.P. Wilson got a strain in his pecker looking at her. For the ladies
there is �Rowdy� Roddy Piper showing off his handsome chest on page 7.
(Of course Jim Corrigan noticed this one. When he�s not busy mailing out
literature he�s hard at work campaigning as a gay political candidate in
Atlanta.)
This issue features movie reviews by the Horror Committee. Films
featuring George C. Scott, Val Kilmer (of The Doors), and other such
nonsense are reviewed. (Including Sorority Girls and The Creature From
Hell.) I just got a VHS copy of Pretty Baby, featuring Brooke Shields, from
the Sun Coast Video Store, so I won�t have time for anything else for
awhile. (You know, about a 12-year-old prostitute. Since it was made in
the late 70�s, when I was a youngster, I consider this movie to be about
TRADITIONAL VALUES! I�m not into all this Reagan-era conservative shit.
The Reagan-era (and Bush and Clinton) can be summed up in one word: NO!
As in, �I said NO!� and �What part of NO don�t you understand?� I wrote
back to my supervisor (after I quit): �What part of FUCK YOU don�t you
understand?�
Getting back to Joe Boob, we have more boobs on display on page 12,
followed by a picture of Joe Boob�s wife on page 14, modelling (what
else?) a �Joe Boob� t-shirt. Finally there is a contest for jerk-off
nerdyboys who wasted their entire life watching C-grade movies, and have
now nothing better to do in life than answer quiz questions about C-grade
movies.
All in all, a good issue, and after all, �It�s like a drug. The first one
is always free,� as Joe Boob says. So get it right away.
Rawlins, The Last Tough Cop #2, $1.50. Digest. Text-only, with
illustrations. Perry Lake, Miracle Comics, 6167-B, Alamo Way, Paradise,
CA 95969.
Review: �Yeah, it was a weird one. Some devil-worshipping old bat
molests three little kids, and twenty years later, she drives �em to
suicide,� reads the self-introspective dialogue by the main character (pg.
15). The name of this issue�s story is �Nursery Rhymes From Hell.�
The letters section contains a review of a previous issue: �The
undead demon: We don�t get to see it go around killing people we don�t
care about. [Then it] gets shot--once--[and] falls through a window and
dies.� I thought this was an excellent interpretation of modern T.V.
story-plotting. You see the bad guy, and then you see the awful things he
does. But, often, he does those awful things to characters you don�t care
about. Have you ever watched a movie where you can tell, right from the
beginning, which people are only there to die? I can. Often it�s the �odd�
person. The black guy, the mexican, the fat woman.
Thankfully, Perry Lake is not averse to printing criticism about his
work. And the digest-sized book is a nice package overall. Excellent
cover, excellent (and humorous) back cover, with decent �small press�
illustrations inside. Unfortunately, the inside illustrations are
sometimes poorly reproduced. But a good buy, especially if you�re fond of
illustrated Sherlock Holmes books. (I am.)
Board of Superheros 1, 50�. Minicomic, 8 pgs. Matt Feazell, 3867
Bristow, Detroit MI 48212.
I first was introduced to Matt Feazell back in the '80's, as I
trudged down a windblown street. I saw a minicomic lying in the
gutter. At first I thought it was just another one of Roller's pubs, as I
am always seeing those in the gutter (where they belong!)...or jammed
into toilets in public restrooms...or sometimes I'll come across one of
Roller's pubs in the little girl's lavatory at the school where I work as
a janitor. (Don't ask me how it got in there.)
Anyway, it turns out this particular pub was one of those rare
gems put out by Matt Feazell. Unlike one of Roller's pubs, this one had
been carefully preserved in a hermetically sealed plastic bag, complete
with acid-free backer board. Obviously, some unfortunate collector had
lost part of his prized collection. I picked the zine up. I thought about
advertising it in the lost and found section of our local paper, but lust
and greed quickly possessed my mind! I tore the comic out of its
plastic bag and quickly devoured its contents. Then I took it to the
bank, where I was able to exchange it for a crisp $100.00 bill! I spent
the night at the Holiday Inn, masturbating over the Playboy channel. Ah,
life!
Board of Superheros is yet another of Matt's beautifully rendered
minicomics. He's always been the best mini-maker of the genre. In the
mid-80's his books had a clean but punk rock "sketchpad" feel to them.
Then, in the late 80's, as he picked up work selling stickmen to the
mainstream press, his work became downright beautiful. The beauty
remains.
Board's story is a fairly clever "corporate politics" tale.
Boardman goes on sabbatical and leaves Stickboy in charge, who quickly
mires his superhero employees in mindless paperwork. With regard to
the final panel, I would have written "No Smoking Breaks," instead of
"No Smoking On Breaks." I don't understand why Mr. Stickboy would
want to prohibit smoking ON breaks. However, prohibiting SMOKING
breaks seems an excellent idea, since that is when his employees spoke
unkindly of him.
Terra Libra, 2430 E. Roosevelt #998, Phoenix, AZ 85008; e-mail
terrahq@ix.netcom.com.
Review: It always bothers me when someone spends good money to
send me something and it arrives packaged like an ad asking for money.
Here we have a �sort of� zine. It has good-looking articles inside, but the
cover sheet begs for money. ($199.00). Now, in my opinion, you should at
least put something in a man�s hands that has value in-and-of itself. If
you want to also include a letter, or stick an ad inside asking for money,
that�s okay. But don�t START by asking the money. Don�t ask for money on
the COVER of your zine! It�s like walking up to a girl and saying, �Let�s
fuck. By the way, did you know I have a Ph.d in interpersonal
communications?� Now, this was a tactic that was popular in the 70�s
(when I was too young to enjoy it), but it�s been unpopular ever since. (You
know, the �dance clubs� that had rooms right off the dance floor where
you could have immediate sex with people you just met. Bathrooms in
back, sex rooms all around the dance floor.)
So the moral here is, �Give me something I want first, then do your
�offering� business in the back.� In this case I�m not going to bother any
further with this �zine,� except to say that if you�re a Libertarian-type or
militia-type person (and who isn�t these days?) it looks like there may be
some decent reading in this zine.
Green Ringlets, 50�. Minicomic, eight pages. William Dockery, P.O.
Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868.
A chapbook, from whence the first poem provides the title. Each
book apparently comes with a free coffee stain. (Mine did, anyway.)
Care for some disjointed images, rendered with varying degrees of
proficiency, complete with a bizarre, Egyptian pharaoh cover? This is the
book for you. There's a poem about the South and several about females. I
could write this thing up really good, but I'm full. I had to feed the
hamburger Dockery bribed me with to a cat. It was lukewarm. If I'm to
work for food, Dockery, it has to be hot. Anyway, the onion rings were
good. For those I'll quoth several of his better lines:
"Answers like seeds being dispersed into
"the breeze...
"...We stood in the marsh of reeds...
"...The Science Ladies
"wandering inside my soul (pg. 5)."
There ya go. Thank God Wilson quit publishing.
Sam and Marty #0, $1.50. Odd-sized, large comic. Paul Quinn, 80
Hamilton Street, Unit 4, Waterdown, Ontario, CANADA LOR 2H6.
Review: �Oh, Zack!! I want to feel your hot breath apon (sic) my
bosom!!!� cries Samantha Saphire (pg. 8). Samantha is being courted by
a vampire in this issue, one Marty Bishop, of whom we are told, �It�s
been eight hundred and twenty-seven years since he�s said or heard the
words, �I love you (pg. 1).� (When he last got laid is anybody�s guess.)
The artwork is good for a small press comic. The ladies are well
drawn and their bosoms vividly portrayed, both with and without bras.
Paul seems to go in for the weight-lifter type in women. His men
always seem dwarfed by their female lovers. This, I believe, follows in
the tradition of R. Crumb, except he drew better women. �Appropriate�
women, I should say, letting my bias show, not fucking transvestite
weightlifter �women.� (Sorry, Senator Exon, but I am against
transvestites! Well, not exactly, I just prefer pretty girls to women
who can crumple me with their bare hands. It�s a survival thing.)
The black areas in this zine are excellent, not washed out, as
often happens in xeroxed zines. Blacks are used with dramatic effect
in the portrayal of Samantha�s lacy black bra, and in a starry-night
graveyard scene, dominated by a black-cloaked Darth Vader dude. This
is a nicely drawn comic, an excellent buy if you want to get a good
picture of what a �small press comic� looks like.
D R E A M G I R L S E D I T O R I A L
By Deep Thought (Currently Ensconced in an Outhouse)
HOW WOMAN CAME TO BE
In the beginning there was no sexism or bigotry. In fact, there was
no woman. There was only man. Now we've all heard of the self-created
man, but in fact it is woman who is self-created.
One day a group of men who all happened to have a particular
appendage between their legs (which about half the other men on the
planet lacked) were sitting around, and one of them said,
"Y'know, there is such a thing as a man, and then there is such a
thing as a woe man. I have noticed that any man who lacks an appendage
between his legs often causes one a lot of woe. I think we should
differentiate such a creature from ourselves by calling him not a man but
a woe man."
And so it was agreed that day by all those who had an appendage
between their legs. From that day on, when a group of men with
appendages between their legs saw a man approaching who had no
appendage, one man would say to another,
"Uh, oh, here comes a woe man."
By the time writing was invented the two words had become one, not
"woe man" but simply "woman." (The "e" was dropped because it was
silent, hence unnecessary.)
So it is that some once known as "man" became "woman," and the
distinction has remained with us ever since, for good reason. The reader
will by now discern, of course, that it is women themselves who brought
about this difference, and for women to complain because they "are not
the same as men" is just their own stupid fault.
D R E A M G I R L S N E W S
SINGING OVERHEARD IN GERMANY
In Beer Halls and Government Ministries
Achtung, ye defenders of de faderland,
Together we march onto de Internet,
200 Newsgroups today,
200 more tomorrow,
Together, we Germans dictate what de world will see and hear!
D R E A M G I R L S L E T T E R S
ADOLF HITLER ON MUNICH:
�In it I obtained the foundations for a philosophy in general and a
political view in particular.� -- Adolf Hitler (quoted in Adolf Hitler, by
John Toland, pg. 54.)
Free Naughty Naked Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up)
age statement to: roller666@aol.com Free back issues: send e-mail to
nnd.inf@backdrop.com Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-
addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663,
Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A. Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of
Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1996 and a trademark of
Andrew Roller. Chat: alt.sex.stories.d END OF 123 EMISSION