---------------

Sexiest little girl contest!

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         Recently I went to Target.  To be honest, I didn�t need to buy 
anything.  I was looking for someone to spend Christmas with.  You know, a 
discreet divorcee, about 50.  A mature older woman who I could get off 
with, who wouldn�t tell anyone afterwards.  Nothing gets my blood hotter 
than to be commanded by some powerful, dominant lady to empty my balls 
into her.  �Yes, dear!  Right away, dear!� I was already practising saying, 
and having hot flashes as I was saying it.  In my pocket I was fondling a 
photo of Hillary Clinton.  God, what a woman!  Next to Janet Reno, who I 
guess is too old for me, she�s my favorite.  I have no idea how Bill could 
have fallen for some innocent intern when he had Hillary to command him!
         I walked by the toy section.  I was going to the women�s clothing 
section, where I was hoping to pose as some guy trying to find something 
for his wife.  Surely some woman would happen upon me there, and have 
some recommendations for me!  But before I could get there, who did I see 
in amongst the toys, but Perply?
         �Perply!� I cried.  He gave me a furtive look.
         �Don�t speak so loudly, Joe,� he said.
         �What are you doing here?�  I asked.  �Looking for little girls?�
         �No,� he whispered.  He picked up a girls� makeup set.  �I�m looking 
at little girls.�
         I looked around me.  It was a slow day.  There was nobody in the toy 
section.
         �There aren�t any little girls here,� I said to Perply.
         �Yes there is,� he insisted.  He held up the girls� makeup set.  �Right 
here,� he said.  And he pointed to a girl on the box, who was gazing 
excitedly out from it, doing something with play makeup.
         �Wow.  She�s cute,� I admitted.
         �Yes,� Perply agreed.
         �To bad she�s not 50,� I commented.
         �She�s 8, Joe.  You�ve got a long wait ahead of you,� Perply said.  
Then his hands trembled.  �But I don�t!� he cried.
         �Perply!  You�re not going to take that box home with you and 
masturbate over it, are you?� I asked.  He smiled guiltily.
         �Noooo,� he said.  �I�m going to do research.�
         �What sort of �research�?� I asked him.  I�m on to Perply�s ways.  
He�s the sort of fellow who watches Saturday morning cartoons, just to 
wait for the Barbie ads.
         �It�s not what you think, Joe.  I�m not going to masturbate, really!�
         �Perply,� I said.  �It�s bad enough that you sit at home on Saturday 
morning, jerking off to Barbie ads.  Have you now extended your perversion 
to little girls� makeup kits?�
         �Wellll,� Perply said, still looking guilty.  �Actually, Joe, I�m taking 
submissions for the sexiest little girl contest.  But don�t let anyone know 
I�m here.  People will think I�m a sissy if they see me looking at little 
girls� toys.�
         A week later I went over to Perply�s.  I was still in search of a 
divorcee, and my search was not going well.  Three gay guys had 
propositioned me in the ladies� clothing sections of various department 
stores, but no women.
         �How is your �research� coming along?� I asked Perply, when he let 
me inside.
         �Very well,� he replied.  He pointed to his wall.  There, thumbtacked 
to his wall with great care, each one wrapped in plastic, was a girls� toy 
or a magazine with a girl on the cover of it.  They were all little girls, of 
course.  Not one was over 12.  �These are my final contestants, Joe,� 
Perply told me.  I eyed him suspiciously. 
         �You aren�t jerking off over them?� I asked him.
         �No,� Perply said.  �I only masturbate over the little girls in the 
Barbie ads.  But none of them made my final cut.�  I looked again at the 
wall.
         �But these did?� I asked.
         �Yes,� Perply said.  �I guess I got bored with the girls on T.V., even 
though they are quite pretty.  Plus, these are the newest girls, Joe.  Those 
girls in the Barbie ads were on last year too.  These are the girls of the 
year 2000!�
         I examined the girls displayed on the wall.  �So what are you going 
to do with them?� I asked Perply.
         �I am going to pick one,� Perply told me.  There was pride in his 
voice.  �And then she will be the official Sexiest Little Girl, in my Sexiest 
Little Girl contest!  Of the year 2000.�
         �Oh,� I said.  I looked again at the girls.  �It doesn�t seem fair, that 
only you should vote,� I told Perply.
         �What do you mean?� he asked me.
         �Well, if she is really going to be the Sexiest Little Girl, of the 
entire year, then other people should vote too.  I�ll tell you what, Perply,� 
I offered.  �I�ll write up what each girl looks like, and where you found her 
picture.  Then all the guys on the internet can vote for her too.�
         �Gee, thanks, Joe,� Perply said.  �But what do you get out of this?�  
         �Maybe I�ll get to meet the girl�s mother,� I said.
         �Hey, that would be swell!� Perply told me.  �Maybe the winner will 
e-mail me, and I can date her, and you can date her mother.�
         �Sure,� I agreed.

         So, in hopes of getting off at Christmas, I hereby present, on behalf 
of myself and Perply, the official, holy joe (and Perply):

         SEXIEST LITTLE GIRL CONTEST
         of the year 2000

         Before I get to the actual contest, I want to assure you that I will 
never let Perply go out with any little girls.  This is just a plan to get me 
laid, not him.  I�m just leading him along.  In fact, there is a new phone 
number for anyone who sees people doing suspicious things:  It�s 1-800-
555-TELL.
         With that out of the way, let�s proceed with the contest.  Remember, 
only e-mail me if you�re a woman who knows how to spread her legs wide, 
and keep her mouth shut.  I�m a grown man who�s interested in meeting 
grown women.  I�m a sexually mature, responsible, thoughtful, sensitive, 
caring, macho guy who likes having things shoved up his ass, as long as 
it�s a woman doing it.  (Or something like that...)  

         Offspring, The Magazine of Smart Parenting, December/January 
2001, $2.95.  http://www.offspringmag.com
         Review:  A gorgeous little child gazes out from the cover.  She has 
tousled blonde hair and a shy smile.  The most striking thing about her are 
her eyes.  They are pale, like the sky behind her, and seem to have a kind of 
glowing elfin quality to them.  I was astonished by how gorgeous and cute 
this girl looks.  Like a little sprite, fresh out of Shakespeare�s Midsummer 
Night�s Dream!

         Color Gear Fashion Gear, about $5.00.  Made exclusively for Target 
stores by RoseArt.  No web site listed.
         Review:  This is one of the items that Perply found in the toy section 
of Target.  You have to turn this over to see the three girls on the back of 
it.  The box says �8+� but I suppose this is an aspirational toy, since the 
girls on the box look about 10 or 11.  The Japanese girl on the right is 
cute.  (She�s the one who got Perply to pick up the box, being pictured all 
by herself on the front of it.)  But the one who really caught my attention, 
on the back, is the one on the left.  She�s a brunette, with big, glistening 
blue eyes.  She�s wearing a little too much lipstick but that�s her role, I 
guess, to sell pretend lipstick and nail polish to little girls.  She has long, 
wavy brown hair, fashionably unkempt, as if she�s just been busy playing.  
Besides her lovely broad smile, and her luminous eyes, and her perfect 
face, one can�t help but notice her body.  God, what a perfect preteen bod!  
It doesn�t help someone like Perply that she�s wearing a diaphanous 
blouse.  And a lavender one at that, Perply�s favorite color.  Beneath her 
almost sheer blouse you can see the swell of her budding breasts.  Further 
down, hanging around her waist, is a belt of plastic purple flowers.  But 
one�s eyes quickly move to the graceful line of her back, where, beneath 
her belted waist, out curves her small round bottom!

         Whew!  Excuse me for a minute while I go to the bathroom.  I think 
Perply�s perverted desires are starting to infect me.  Either that or these 
girls are just too damn cute!  Why can�t they be 50 instead of 10 ???!

         Well, I�m back.  I took a cold shower after I used the toilet, but now 
I�m ready to go again.  (Please, ladies, e-mail me before I turn into a 
pervert, like my friend Perply!)

         All About You!  Summer 2000, $2.99.  http://www.teenmag.com
         Review:  A blonde girl is on the cover.  Once again, her hair is 
slightly messy.  She�s busy having summer fun.  She has an utterly perfect 
face.  Well, not quite perfect.  She has a sprinkling of freckles on her nose.  
But you hardly notice them, they�re so pale, like her lovely white skin.  
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about this girl is again her eyes, or 
perhaps not, it�s hard to tell exactly how big they are.  Bigger is better, 
when it comes to eyes, in my opinion.  (I mean, in Perply�s opinion.)

         (This is starting to get to me again, looking at all these little girls.)

         I call All About You the premier magazine for perverts.  It used to be 
monthly but I guess there weren�t enough perverts buying it.  So now it 
only comes out on a quarterly basis.  Come on, guys!  Support this 
magazine!  It is the ONLY thing us perverts have to keep us happy.  What 
are you going to do if this magazine goes out of business, buy Penthouse?  
Are you going to look at stupid adult women?  There is no other 
publication in America featuring, on a regular basis, lovely preteen girls.  
Sure, there is Teen, and other magazines like it, with teenage girls in 
them.  But who wants to look at teen sluts when you can look at luscious 
LITTLE girls instead?!  Not really little girls.  I admit, the girl on the 
cover of Offspring is a little on the small side, but, you know, PREteen 
girls.  The best girls in the universe!

         (Hmmmm.... I�m not sure what I�ve been typing for the last few 
minutes.  Unfortunately I�m posting this AS I�m typing it, so I guess it�s 
too late for me to go back and change it....)

         Let�s see... what�s up next?

         All About You!  Winter 2001, $2.99.  http://www.teenmag.com
         Review:  The Fall issue of All About You was junk.  The girl on the 
cover wasn�t pretty.  In fact, she looked like some PC girl.  I notice that 
sometimes girl-oriented magazines print girls that women enjoy seeing.  
UNattractive girls.  Thank God we are back on track with the Winter issue.  
Admittedly, the girl on the cover of this issue looks a little bit like a 
member of the boy band, Hanson.  But she is a girl, and quite a pretty one 
at that, and she looks swell in her snug winter cap and sweater.  Once 
again she has nice eyes, perfect skin, good lips.  I love seeing her up on my 
wall, gazing at me, as if she�s a real girl who�s come to visit!  I must 
admit, though, that my favorite cover so far this year of All About You is 
the Summer issue.  The girl on the Summer All About You is blowing on a 
bubble-blower.  It�s pink and blue, and looks remarkably like a pacifier.  
That cover really got my gonads going!
         But now it is Winter, and things are more sedate, I suppose.  Still, 
one can dream of this girl on the Winter issue out selling girl scout 
cookies.  Or caroling, in the cold air, and wishing to come inside my 
apartment to get warm for a minute.  (Or several minutes!)

         (Someone is on T.V. claiming that people typing on the Internet are 
having their brains controlled by aliens.  I hope that never happens to me.  
God knows what I�d write if it were happening to me.)

         Onward!

         Newsweek, October 2, 2000, $3.50.  
http://www.newsweek.msnbc.com  
         Review:  Okay, okay, I admit this girl is, like the Offspring girl, a 
little on the small side.  Still, she does look cute, don�t you think?  The 
cover reads, �Who will teach our kids?�  What?  Sex Ed?  Sign me up!  No, 
I�m just kidding.  Like I said, I�m only interested in Hillary Clinton.
         Anyway, this girl is a blonde.  She sits attentively at her desk, 
gazing with childish soberness out at the viewer.  (That�s me, in case you 
were wondering.)  Unfortunately, my zipper�s stuck, so I guess our lesson 
will be delayed.  I hope nobody comes in while I�m giving it.  God, what 
sweet lips she has!  To plunge myself into her, to violate her, to INSTRUCT 
her... damn!  Why would my zipper get stuck at a time like this?

         Hmmm... I seem to have been typing in a daze.  I�m not sure what I 
wrote.  Hopefully it wasn�t anything too embarrassing.  Leave it to me to 
try to meet grown, sophisticated women by posting Perply�s stupid Sexy 
Little Girl contest on the internet.  With my luck nobody will write to me 
except a bunch of little girls, aspiring to be magazine models and 
salesgirls for toys.




         Do not post �me too� posts in this newsgroup, saying which little girl 
in this contest you like best.  And please don�t post your votes in any 
feminist newsgroups either.

         And now, for those long-suffering souls who just wanted a simple 
story that they  could get off to, I present:



- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
      Visit me at:  http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
---------------------------------------------------------------


                                        Andrew Roller Presents
                                   NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                       in 
                                                 ICEBOUND


                                                Chapter One

         Of course, she didn�t know the real reason, Melanie said to herself.  
She did her best to hide a smile as she gazed into the older woman�s eyes.  
They were blue, like her own, but with a dark, flashing quality to them, a 
kind of depth that Melanie, gazing at them with her own, paler, sky-blue 
eyes, found menacing.  It was like staring into twin sapphires, treasures 
dug up from deep in the Antarctic wastes.
         The wind howled outside.  Melanie listened and shivered.  She still 
couldn�t believe she was here, in Antarctica, at the Anglo-French Research 
Station run by the famous Steve Dent and his wife Kara.  The blonde 
Swedish woman with the sapphire eyes repeated again what she�d said, to 
make sure the young American heard it.
         �The Antarctic is very unforgiving,� Kara said.  �One mistake, and 
it�s over.  Your life, I mean, not just your stay here.  So even if you don�t 
quite understand, and there are many things you might not since you�re 
new here, it�s important that you always obey.�  The blonde brushed back a 
lock of her hair that had spilled down from her otherwise prim bun.  Her 
more angular face gazed at Melanie�s soft, round one.  She smiled, to 
soften her last remark.  Melanie smiled back.
         �Yes,� Melanie said.
         �Very good,� Kara replied.  She turned.  With a wave of her hand, 
which was perfectly manicured, she waved at a rack of equipment.  �This 
is the communications room,� she said.  �It�s our lifeline.  Help is at least 
three days away, by helicopter, and then only if the radio�s working.  Never 
touch this equipment,� Kara said to Melanie.  �If it breaks, we�re all done 
for.  Steve�s had to jury-rig it a little, since the last shipment came in.  
Hopefully some new stuff came with you... we�ll have to unpack the boxes 
and see.�  She smiled again, turning once more to Melanie.  �Sometimes 
they say they�ll send things and then don�t, sending the wrong things, stuff 
we already have, or don�t really need.�
         �Yes,� Melanie said.  She nodded.  She wished only to seem compliant.  
The radio room was the last thing on her mind.
         �Steve doesn�t really like me touching the comm equipment, to be 
honest with you,� Kara continued, explaining some more when, in fact, 
Melanie�s mind had already drifted elsewhere.  Steve!  Steve Dent!  She had 
worked her tail off her Senior year in High School, when she�d learned of 
the opportunity to be with him.  She�d always been bright but in her junior 
year she�d started to let things slip, started to party a little, when 
suddenly in National Geographic, in the back, where they advertised the 
index to a years� worth of issues, and the cardboard boxes to store them 
in, she�d found the ad.
         �INTERN needed,� the ad read.  �Study at the Anglo-French Antarctic 
research station.  Do important scientific research!  Travel and all 
necessary expenses paid.  Open to college students.�
         Melanie had first seen Steve Dent on PBS when she was 10.  She 
liked educational T.V., even though all her friends watched MTV.  She�d 
followed the handsome explorer�s career ever since.  Even though the ad 
didn�t mention him by name, she knew he was there, at the Anglo-French 
station.  She also knew his wife had died exploring with him only 9 months 
ago, and he�d since remarried, taking his lovely new bride back to 
Antarctica with him.
         And now Melanie was gazing at that new bride, in the radio room.  
She was, frankly, feeling a bit intimidated by the woman, as the blonde 
Swede bent down and fiddled with some radio knobs.  �The signal looks 
good,� the blonde said, checking a needle that swung inside a glass dial.  
�Hopefully the incoming storm won�t knock down our antenna.�
         �Oh!� Melanie let out a slight gasp.  The Swede, who had bent down 
over the controls for the radio, stood up.  �Is a storm coming?� Melanie 
asked, aware again of the wind, howling out beyond the walls of the 
station.�
         �Mmmhmm,� the Swede answered.  Standing erect now, she turned 
and checked some racked equipment along a wall.  �Storm season�s 
coming,� Kara said.  �We were lucky to get you in.�  She glanced at the 
girl.  �Another week and you would have had to go back, without making 
the final jump from the ship to our station.�
         �Oh,� Melanie said.
         �Yes,� Kara continued.  �It�s a long voyage.  It would have been a pity 
to lose you.�
         �Yes,� Melanie agreed.  She remembered the ship.  It was a scientific 
research vessel, a freighter, really, jammed with lots of gear, like in this 
radio room.  There had been a ton of guys on board, only a few females.  
She�d been popular and enjoyed herself but it had gotten annoying after 
awhile, with so many guys hitting on her.  They were pleasant about it but 
it was obvious that she was young and pretty, the youngest and prettiest 
in fact, and newly available, having just turned 18.  They were without 
female company, except for the handful of female scientists on board.  It 
was a ratio thing, Melanie guessed, in addition to her being a �ripe 
cherry,� as she�d overheard one guy say.  A dozen guys for every girl, and 
the girls bent on keeping up their professional status, not giving in too 
easily.  And of course Melanie hadn�t given in at all.  She�d been, since age 
10, saving herself for Steve.
         �C�mon.  I�ll show you the room where we do experiments,� Kara said 
to Melanie.  She left the equipment she�d been studying, beckoning the girl 
along with a wave of her arm.  Melanie followed.  They walked out of the 
comm room and into a hall.  The walls were wood, the floor wooden crates 
laid end-to-end.  Above them a wire was strung, running along one wall of 
the hall, a bare light bulb hanging from the wire every 10 feet or so.  It 
was their source of light, this string of bulbs, looking like cheap Japanese 
lanterns strung up without any decorative shades.  They passed down along 
the corridor, the boards creaking under their feet.  Beneath them was 
another layer of boards and then, below that, nothing but frozen snow.  It 
made Melanie shiver to think of it.  The Antarctic ice cap was directly 
below her and, somewhere below its frozen solidity, there was deep, cold 
water.  Like the Titanic had sunk in.  Antarctic was a continent in its own 
right, but the work Steve was doing here now necessitated his being in 
this spot, and, unfortunately for one who wished to dwell on it, there was 
no actual land down under the ice and snow lying under their feet.  Melanie 
shivered again, feeling the warmth of her boots on her feet and hearing the 
wind.  
         �Here we are,� Kara announced.  She turned and went through another 
doorway, leaving the hall, Melanie quickly following.  The young girl 
stopped short as soon as she�d come through the doorway.  There, amidst 
the room carved out of the ice and lined with bare wooden walls, stood a 
gleaming metal table.  �This is where we do our dissecting,� Kara said to 
the girl.  �Seals, otters.�  She went forward to the table and picked up a 
scalpel, lying close by the table on a metal surgical tray.  �The occasional 
penguin,� Kara continued.  She looked at the scalpel and replaced it on the 
tray.  �I�ll have to clean that,� she said absently.  �Steve will kill me if he 
finds me leaving dirty equipment lying around.  I did a fish this morning,� 
she said.  Melanie saw a stain on the table, on white wax paper.  �You�ll 
wind up here too, if you get injured,� Kara said to Melanie.  �This room 
doubles as our medical ward.�
         �Oh,� Melanie answered.  Kara picked up the scalpel again, and 
walked to a jar of fluid.  She opened the jar and dropped in the scalpel.  It 
made a plopping sound, landing in the fluid.  Melanie smelled formaldehyde.
         �Let�s get something to eat,� Kara said to Melanie.  She smiled.  �You 
must be famished after your ride on Steve�s chopper.  It always makes me 
digest whatever I have, being way up in the air like that, over everything.  
My stomach just releases all this acid and it�s like, whoom, everything�s 
digested.  Which is a lot better than throwing up, which is what I used to 
do,� Kara laughed.  Melanie let out a giggle.  �But you didn�t get sick?� 
Kara asked the blonde girl.
         �No,� Melanie answered.
         �You�re lucky,� Kara said.  �You must be cut out to be a scientist 
then.  I think I spent too many years in the library, and lost my touch with 
the outdoors.�
         �What did you do your Phd. in?� Melanie asked, following the woman 
out of the medical room and back into the hall.
         �I�m afraid I followed in the august footsteps of Dr. Kevorkian,� Kara 
said.  �I studied how organisms die.  Also how they manage to cope with 
pain,� she said.
         �Oh,� Melanie nodded, feeling intimidated again.  The woman was no 
slouch, when it came to scholarly research.  She�d written an important 
paper with a big long name that Melanie had tried to read, at the 
University library near her high school.  It had been published in Pathology 
Quarterly, and then reprinted in two other journals, it had been so well-
received.  As a result Steve�s grant for his latest work had been doubled.  
�I guess Steve�s delighted to have your skills,� Melanie said to Kara, 
walking along the hall with her.
         �Yes.  We met two years ago, in the library in fact,� Kara said.  �I 
was bent over some book, and when I looked up, there he was.  The famous 
explorer!�
         �How romantic!� Melanie gushed.
         �I couldn�t believe it,� Kara said.  �I recognized him immediately.�
         �Of course,� Melanie agreed, enthusiastically.  Together they walked 
into a room with a refrigerator and a stove.  Between the two was a sink.  
Along one wall were some cabinets and, sitting here and there, large 
unopened boxes.
         �Our kitchen and supply room,� Kara said.  �As you can see, since 
you�ve just come in with the latest load, it won�t all fit in our real supply 
room.  So find a seat among the boxes of dried beans and rice and try to 
make yourself comfy.�  Melanie pulled out a chair from a table, that sat 
between two boxes.  The chair was made of wood, but someone had made 
the attempt to domesticate it by tying a small cushion onto the back of 
the chair, which lay over the seat.  Melanie sat down.  The cushion felt 
soft under her snowsuit-clad bottom.  Kara opened the fridge and took out 
a microwavable meal from the freezer part of the unit.  �Let�s see, do you 
like roast beef?� Kara asked.  She took out another meal, held both in her 
hands.  �Or ham?�  She laughed.  �After awhile, they�ll both start to taste 
the same, I assure you,� she said.  �So perhaps it doesn�t really matter.  I 
prefer natural food myself, but that�s impossible to come by down here, 
unless you want to take up a diet of fresh seals.�
         �I�ll-- have whatever you have,� Melanie answered.  
         �Alright.  Ham, then,� Kara said.  She looked at the box.  �Ham and 
mashed potatoes with not enough butter, so I�ll have to get out some of 
that... some should have come in with you and Steve... and chocolate 
pudding.  I�ll see if they shipped us some fresh lettuce.  Did you see Steve 
unpack any?� she asked.
         �I don�t know.  It was all just boxes,� Melanie answered.
         �I�ll go check in the storage room.�  She handed Melanie a meal.  
�Here, find another ham dinner and put them in the microwave,� she said.  
�There�s no harm in you operating that.  Although,� she added, after a 
moment�s thought.  �Be careful.  If it breaks we�ll have just the stove.�
         Melanie replaced the roast beef dinner in the freezer part of the 
fridge.  She dug around until she found a second ham dinner, and then 
unwrapped both.  She put one in the microwave, leaving the other on the 
kitchen counter-top for the moment, since both meals wouldn�t fit into 
the stove at once.  She smiled, to herself.  It was so fun being in the 
Antarctic!  The accommodations weren�t the best but Steve�s presence 
more than made up for it.  And Kara seemed nice.  If she could get along 
with her, she was sure she and Steve would have a wonderful two months 
together down under!

         The wind was raging outside as Kara watched Steve lead the young 
student down the hall.  The storm had come in early, bringing Steve in 
with it.  It had been too cold for him to stay in the maintenance room, 
down at the end of the compound.  Here it was warmer, in the living 
quarters, although they all still stayed bundled up in insulated snow pants 
and boots.  Kara watched Melanie�s bottom move in the thin, insulated 
pants as she walked down the hall.  It was high and firm.  The twin cheeks 
juddered as she walked, with seeming impudence.  Kara felt a sudden 
quickening of her heart.  The girl�s ass was as pretty as the rest of her; 
prettier even, just as she�d imagined it might be.  A young high school 
girl�s bum, saucy and ripe for pleasure, still untested.
         Kara smiled.  Yes, she knew Melanie was a virgin.  She could guess it 
from the way she moved, what she�d said about the men on the ship.  She 
gazed at the girl�s trim young figure, listened, above the wind, to her 
excited comments to Steve.  Her hand brushed the explorer�s.  Her fingers 
reached out, then drew back, too shy to let her feelings be known... yet.
         Oh, if the girl only knew!  Kara had no interest in Steve.  She had 
married him only to advance her career.  Yes, he was handsome.  But 
handsome men were commonplace to her.  She had always been remarkably, 
even astoundingly beautiful, with her sapphire eyes and her long Swedish 
blonde hair.  Perhaps that was why she�d been content to ensconce herself 
in libraries for so many years.  She had only to get up from her books and 
there was always some man waiting for her.  Even Steve Dent, famous 
explorer, as it turned out.  But men, and their passions, held little interest 
for her.  It was useful, perhaps, to have Steve�s living organ to play with, 
instead of a piece of plastic.  But it was girls that had always interested 
her!  She loved their bright, curious eyes, their warm snatches, their young 
growing bosoms.  Ever since childhood she had had a series of intimate 
girlfriends.  Some willing, some not-so-willing, surprised when she�d 
persuaded them out of their clothes and embarrassed afterwards, by the 
dark secrets she�d shared with them.  Steve had wanted a mature 
scientist, like herself, to join them at the station.  But Kara had been 
enthralled by Melanie ever since she�d set eyes on the photo the girl sent 
in, along with her application.  Her pale, lovely eyes, blue as the Antarctic 
sky on a storm-free day.  Her innocent gaze, her warm bright cheeks, her 
perfect rosebud lips.  Kara wanted this girl, and wanted her very badly.  
She hoped Steve wanted her too.  Surely he must.  Kara watched how Steve 
responded to the girl, watched him all the way until he, with her in tow, 
rounded a corner in the hall.

         �It�s nice that it�s warmer now,� Melanie said the next day at 
breakfast.  Kara nodded.
         �Steve got the second generator going,� she said.  She dug into a 
microwaved batch of eggs.
         �I�ll cook some fresh ones for you if you�ll let me,� Melanie said, 
looking up from the stove, where she was just about to crack an egg and 
put it in a skillet.
         �No, I�ve got to get outside this morning, before another storm 
comes in,� Kara said.  �There�s some observations I have to do.�
         �Okay,� Melanie said.  �But it would only take a moment.�
         �I don�t have a moment,� Kara said.  She wolfed down the eggs on her 
aluminum tray, as Steve walked into the room.
         �Steve!� Melanie gushed.  Kara caught the note of excitement in the 
girl�s voice.  Without looking up, she smiled inwardly to herself.  The girl 
no doubt saw herself having Steve all to herself at breakfast.  It would be 
a romantic meal, Steve and his young apprentice, with Kara out of the way.  
But the Swedish woman didn�t mind.  The sooner one or both of them got 
the girl out of her snowsuit, the sooner she herself might have fun with 
her.  In fact, she was going out early for just that purpose... in hopes that 
Steve would get things going with Melanie while she was away.
         �Mmmm.  Something smells wonderful,� Steve said.  He bent over the 
stove, next to Melanie.
         �Fresh eggs,� Melanie said brightly.  She cracked a second egg, 
plopped its yellow-white contents into the skillet.  �Want one?  Kara says 
it�s been months since you�ve had any.�
         �Sure,� Steve said.  He leaned closer to the girl.  He nudged her long 
blonde hair with his nose.  �But I smell something else,� he said.
         �Oh, that�s my newest perfume,� Melanie blushed.  �I saved it just 
for you.  It�s very expensive.�
         �It smells expensive,� Steve said.
         �It�s from France.  I bought it before I got on the ship,� Melanie said.  
She shook her head.  �God, if I�d worn it on that ship I�d be pregnant by 
now!�
         �I�ll bet you would!� Steve laughed.  He drew away from her, but 
continued to admire her as he found a chair amidst the boxes scattered in 
the kitchen.  He sat down.  �Morning, honey,� he said to Kara.
         �Morning,� Kara said over a mouthful of eggs.  �Going out.�
         �So soon?� Steve asked.  Kara nodded.  She swallowed.
         �Another storm�s predicted for this afternoon, according to the 
weather report.  With our luck it will probably arrive early, like 
yesterday�s did.�  Steve looked down at the table.
         �Hmmm,� he agreed.  �Thank God we got Melanie and all the supplies 
in yesterday.  Last night�s was a real howler.�
         �Thank God you got that second generator up and running again,� Kara 
said.
         �It wasn�t easy,� Steve grunted.  �Careful with the radio.  They 
didn�t send us the parts.�  Kara�s head bolted up.
         �You�re kidding,� she said.
         �No, I�m not,� Steve said.  He shook his head.  �Fucking morons.�
         �They�re trying to drive you back to the main station,� Kara said.  
�They don�t like you being way out here.�
         �I can�t get anything done there,� Steve said.  �God, that Norton!  He 
runs the place like it�s his personal property.  I�ll put up with a bad radio 
and a fiddly generator if it�ll keep me away from him.�
         �He�s jealous of you,� Kara said.
         �Don�t I know it!� Steve said.
         �Eggs are ready,� Melanie called from the stove.
         �She�s proving her worth already,� Steve said to Kara.  The Swedish 
woman nodded.
         �She�ll be very valuable to us, I think.  I told her not to fool with the 
comm stuff.�
         �Good,� Steve said.  He watched with admiring eyes as Melanie came 
over to him, having put both eggs for him on a plate.  The girl was almost 
prancing, he noticed, very proud to be serving him.  �Thanks,� Steve said, 
as Melanie put down the plate before him.
         �I�ll get some sausage and coffee for you too,� Melanie offered.
         �Okay,� Steve said.  �But don�t forget yourself.  I don�t want you 
starving while I�m pigging out.�  Melanie paused.  She ran her hands down 
her sides.  She was wearing a checked flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of 
jeans.  This morning she wore moccasins, not boots, and the top button of 
her shirt was unbuttoned.
         �Do you think I�m skinny?� Melanie asked.  Steve sliced into his eggs, 
eagerly, while looking up at the girl.
         �No, you�re perfect,� Steve said.  He stabbed his eggs with a fork.  
�And if you don�t mind my saying, you�ve got the cutest ass in Antarctica.�  
Melanie blushed, fiercely.  And then, awkwardly, she turned, to go back to 
the stove.  Steve eyed her bottom.  It was as full and prominent as her 
lovely young breasts, a bit smaller perhaps, as if all the fat on her slender 
young form had gone into her tits first, filling out her ass only when her 
treasures in front were done.  God!  What a beauty she was!  Melanie felt 
Steve�s eyes on her butt.  She gave it a wiggle, girlishly, not sure how to 
flaunt it but wanting to, still innocent.
         �Steve!� Kara scolded.
         �I hope you don�t accuse me of sexual harassment for saying that,� 
Steve apologized, still staring after Melanie.
         �No.  Not at all,� the young girl answered.  She opened the fridge, the 
freezer section, managing to jiggle her behind again as she rummaged 
through the boxes there.
         �I mean, you know, it would be a terrible way to begin our 
relationship,� Steve continued.  Kara, finished with her eggs, got up from 
the table.
         �I�m sure she takes it in the manner it was intended,� Kara said.  She 
gave Steve a grin, not entirely knowing, but not without a hint of 
conspiracy.  Now it was Steve�s turn to blush, as he realized his wife 
didn�t seem to mind his admiration of their new guest.  �Boys will be 
boys,� Kara added.
         �Yes, I guess so,� Steve agreed, his blush deepening.  Melanie, still 
blushing herself, called out in a loud voice,
         �Found it!� as she pulled a carton of frozen sausages out of the 
freezer.  Kara took a quick drink of coffee from a cup by her empty plate.
         �You two have fun,� Kara said.  �I�ll be back in a little while.�
         �Bye,� Melanie said, to Kara�s back as the woman walked from the 
room.
         �Bye,� Steve chimed, but his eyes were on Melanie.

         �So you like my bottom,� Melanie said, a little while later, sitting at 
the table with Steve.  They were just finishing up breakfast.  It had been a 
glorious affair, with fresh eggs and sausage and toast, and jelly and 
butter, coffee and ham and pancakes, topped off with hot chocolate with 
whipped cream.  
         �Yes.  And I love your cooking,� Steve said.  He grinned at her.  �That 
was quite a storm you cooked up.  But you�ve barely touched yours.�
         �I�m not really hungry,� Melanie said.  She looked nervously at her 
plate.  She put her hand to her belly.  The excitement of serving Steve was 
giving her butterflies.  It was just herself and Steve here in the kitchen, 
with Kara gone, her and her true love, and now he was quite pleased with 
her!
         �I suppose you were popular in high school,� Steve said to the girl.
         �Not TOO popular,� Melanie answered, hoping Steve caught her 
meaning.  He did.  He blushed once more.
         �That�s... not what I meant,� Steve said.  �Sorry.�
         �It�s okay,� Melanie said brightly.  �So what are you working on?�
         �I�m doing studies of the magnetic pole,� Steve said.  �Kara�s 
working on how it affects Antarctica�s fish and wildlife.�
         �Oh,� Melanie said.  �I hear the magnetic pole flips around every so 
often.�
         �That�s right,� Steve said.  �Every so many thousand years.�  His 
blush disappeared.  He explained his work to her.  Melanie listened, loving 
every word of it, every movement of his lips, every breath.  When at last 
he was done telling her all about it her eggs were quite inedibly cold.

         Melanie sat in the comm room.  Kara had been out all day, and Steve, 
despite Melanie�s wishes that he stay inside with her, had gone out too.  
Boredom had brought her into this room.  Steve had given her some 
calculations to do, in the makeshift room that served as a library, but 
she�d tired of them.  Melanie put her hand to one of the comm dials.  She 
sighed.  It was annoying being all by herself.  She wanted to be with Steve!  
Instead she was sitting alone in the compound, given homework to do, 
dumb math calculations, while he and his lovely wife were off somewhere 
outside.  Melanie sighed again.  Well, at least they weren�t together out 
there.  At least, she didn�t think they were.  She frowned to herself.  They 
were husband and wife, how silly it was for her to hope they weren�t 
together!  But Kara had left first, to catch more seals for dissecting or 
whatever exactly it was she did.  And Steve had left later, to do his 
measurements of the earth�s magnetosphere.  Melanie had wanted to go 
with him but he�d echoed his wife�s earlier concern, at the breakfast 
table, that the incoming storm might arrive early.
         �I couldn�t ever forgive myself if I got my new intern killed on her 
first day at the station,� Steve said.  �I�ve got to go some ways out and it 
may be awhile before I get back.�
         �Oh, Steve!� Melanie had pleaded.
         �No,� Steve had answered.  �Kara will probably get back before I do.  
I don�t want you getting caught out there with me.�
         �Not even with my ass?� Melanie had teased, awkwardly, hoping still 
to induce him to stay indoors.
         �No, and I�m sorry I made such a sexual comment,� Steve said.
         �You�re forgiven,� Melanie said.  She looked at him hopefully.  �So 
can I come with you?�
         �No,� Steve said.  He stood awkwardly for a moment, standing over 
her as she sat at the table, hesitating, as if he wanted to bend down and 
give her a kiss.  Then he turned away.  �No,� he said again.  �Antarctica is 
a dangerous place.�  He looked over his shoulder at her.  �You have such a 
pretty face,� he said.  He glanced down at her breasts, bulging within her 
checked shirt.  �If I�d known how pretty the rest of you was I�d never have 
let you come down here.�
         �Oh, Steve!�  Melanie said, pouting.  �Now I am angry!�
         �Do the calculations I told you about,� Steve said.  �You�ll find them 
on my desk in the library.  It�s not the greatest work but your letter said 
you�re good in math.  It will help me a lot.�  Melanie brightened.
         �Alright.  If it will help you,� Melanie agreed.
         But now she was sitting in the comm room, wondering absently if 
she could get PBS on the dial.  Or perhaps MTV, or the BBC?  She played 
with a knob.  Needles jumped.  A voice came from a speaker and Melanie 
gave a start.  And then, after listening awhile, to her horror she realized 
she couldn�t figure out how to turn the equipment off.

         Kara gazed at Melanie.  The girl looked at her plate.  They were 
seated around the table, amidst the boxes in the kitchen, eating dinner, the 
three of them, Steve and Kara and Melanie.  Steve and his wife were fresh 
from the shower, after a hard day�s hiking.  Melanie tried to keep her eyes 
on her plate but Kara, speaking her name, induced her to look up.
         �What you did today was very bad,� Kara said to Melanie.
         �I�m sorry,� Melanie said.  She gulped.  Nothing had been said since 
the husband and wife had come in together, and found her frantically 
trying to get the comm equipment turned off.
         �It came on by itself,� Melanie said weakly.
         �Still, that gave you no reason to touch it,� Steve said.  �You could 
have completely cut off our communications.�
         �I know,� Melanie said.
         �We can�t keep you here if you�re going to disobey,� Kara said.  Tears 
sprang to Melanie�s eyes.  Quickly Steve interrupted.
         �It�s not come to that,� Steve said.
         �Although it out to,� Kara corrected.
         �The South Pole is a deadly, unforgiving place,� Steve said to 
Melanie.  �You can learn to live here, sure.  I love this place.  But I�m also 
aware of the dangers I face.�
         �Yes,� Melanie agreed, still looking at her plate.
         �I think we can settle this,� Kara said.  She looked at her husband.  
He gave her a hopeful, if puzzled look.
         �I suppose we could ground her,� Steve said.  �Except in here is all 
our important gear, and out there it�s a matter of life and death.  If she 
won�t do as she�s told, neither place is safe.�
         �Oh, it�s much simpler than that,� Kara said.  She watched as the girl 
blushed, peeping up from her plate a little, then looking quickly back down.
         �What do you suggest, that we lock in her in her room when we go 
out?� Steve asked.
         �No,� Kara said.  She gazed at the girl, at her cheeks, visibly red on 
her bent-down head.  �I think we should discipline her the old fashioned 
way.  She�s only a high school girl.  I think we should give her a spanking.�
         Melanie�s head jerked upright.  She looked at her hosts, first at Kara, 
then to Steve, then back to Kara again.
         �That�s....�
         �Not a bad suggestion,� Steve said.  Melanie, already blushing, 
changed to the color of bricks.
         �We can�t force you, of course,� Kara said to the girl.  �We can force 
you to leave, however.  So the choice is up to you.  You can stay, if you�ll 
take a bit of medicine for your misbehavior.  Or you can pack your things.  
The ship you came on leaves tomorrow.  Steve could just get you there in 
time to get you out of here.�
         �I--� Melanie gulped.
         �That�s a terrible thing to suggest,� Steve said to his wife.  But 
there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
         �I don�t want to leave for ANYTHING!� Melanie said.  
         �Then are you willing to be spanked?� Kara asked.  Melanie 
swallowed again, harder, her slim neck making her bosoms bounce under 
her flannel shirt.  
         �Would I have to have it... on my bare bottom?� Melanie inquired.
         �Yes.  Of course.  It would hardly hurt with your jeans on,� Kara 
answered.  Steve, still looking bemused, shifted in his seat.  Immediately 
Melanie guessed the reason.  He was becoming aroused!  He blushed, 
knowing that she knew, and she blushed even more in response.  Only Kara, 
staring unflinchingly at Melanie, remained pale, her mouth set, her eyes 
gleaming.
         Melanie�s fingers interlaced in her lap.  She felt a rising excitement.  
She was becoming wet... it was embarrassing to think of it as she sat here 
with Kara and Steve.  The man shifted again in his chair.  Melanie felt a 
whole flight of butterflies rise in her stomach.
         �If... if it doesn�t hurt TOO much,� Melanie said cautiously.
         �You�re a silly thing if you think it�s not going to hurt,� Kara said to 
the girl.  �It won�t be with my hand.  It will be delivered with a whip.�  
Melanie looked at Kara, startled.  Even Steve was startled.
         �Honey,� Steve began.  But Kara gave him an angry glance.
         �If you think I�m going to let this little tart enjoy herself by letting 
you have at her, forget it,� Kara snapped.  �She�ll feel it from me, with a 
whip, or she may as well pack up and go home.�
         �NO, I don�t want to go home!� Melanie pleaded.
         �Then finish your dinner,� Kara said.  �We�ll be here all night the 
way you pick at your food.  Finish, and then we�ll go to our room.�  By this, 
Melanie guessed she meant the bedroom Kara shared with Steve.  The high 
school student gulped.  She was getting just what she wanted, to inveigle 
herself into Steve�s bedroom.  But unfortunately his wife was coming too!  
With a whip!

30

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