---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eleven
�I want to fish too,� I said.
�You can�t, dear. You don�t have a penis,� Pauline answered. Her
voice was languid. She sounded bored. I gazed with inquisitive eyes at the
men. John, Brad, and Steve all sat on a couch in the living room. There
was a fish tank on the floor. Multicolored tropical fish swam in the tank.
Each man sat with his penis hanging erectly over the side of the tank. A
fishing line was tied around each man�s dick. At the end of each line,
down in the submerged depths of the fish tank, was a barbed hook. On the
hook a fresh nightcrawler wiggled.
�They aren�t biting,� Steve said.
�Don�t wiggle your dick around so much,� Paul said.
�I want to fish!� I said again. I crouched on the floor, beside the
tank. My hands clutched its glass walls, along the top.
�She could, you know,� my aunt said. She was sitting on a pillow.
Her well-lotioned bottom was hidden from our view, but it was still red,
from my whipping. My own fanny bore the marks of John�s discipline. It
didn�t hurt as much now, but there were several weals that would take a
while to heal. I let go of the fishtank and rubbed my bare ass. It stung. I
winced. John looked up from the end of his penis and laughed at me.
�You�re wicked,� I told him.
�You won�t call me names anymore,� he said.
�You�re right,� I said glumly. I pouted.
�You look pretty when you pout,� John said.
�Let me fish. Can I play with your fishing pole?� I asked John.
�Tie string to her nipples. Then she can fish,� my aunt told Pauline.
�Of course!� Pauline said. �You�re quite inventive, Rebecca.� She
leapt up from the couch.
�But I want to play with *his* fishing pole!� I said, pointing to
John�s dick.
�No, you�re not playing with my husband�s penis,� Pauline said. �He�s
going to need all of his sperm for tonight, when he gets married to
Chrissy.� She picked up the ball of fishing line. �Do you want bait, or a
real worm?� Pauline asked me.
�Yuck!� I said. �I don�t want a real worm. They�re yucky!�
�Which hook do you want, then?� Pauline asked. There was a
collection of them laid out on a soft towel, on the carpet. Next to the
ersatz baits was a can with worms in it. Pauline�s fingers passed over
the can of worms and fingered the nearest bait.
�Give me a pretty one,� I said. �Two pretty ones, since I have two
nipples.�
�She gets to fish with two lines?� Brad asked, looking up from his
penis.
�She�s a girl. She won�t catch anything,� John said dismissively. �I
told you not to wiggle your dick around. The fish will never bite your line
if you do that.�
�I can�t help it. I�m horny as hell,� Brad said.
�After my wife and Chrissy both blow-jobbed you this morning?�
John asked.
�Yes,� Brad said. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. He
looked at me, pleadingly.
�Nope,� I said.
Pauline knelt down next to me. She made me turn towards her so she
could tie fishing line around my nipples.
�What do you mean, �nope�?� Brad asked me.
�I know what you�re thinking,� I said to him.
�What?� Brad asked.
�You want to fuck me,� I said. �And I bet I know where you want to
put it, too.�
�Where?� Brad said.
�Don�t wiggle your line,� John told Brad again.
�Up my bottom,� I said.
�So, let�s do it,� Brad said. He began to rise.
�Nope,� I told him.
�Sit down,� John said. He was sitting next to Brad. He clutched at
Brad�s penis and forced him to sit back down, bare assed, on the sofa.
�I�ve got to cum,� Brad said.
�Not in me!� I shouted. �I�m fishing.�
�For God�s sake. Go whack off in the bushes if you need it that bad,�
Steve swore. �You keep wiggling your dick around and it�s scaring the
fish!�
�Nobody is going to cum again until I do,� John said. He looked at
Steve. �And tonight we�re getting married.�
�Not to each other,� Steve said.
�I could marry every one of you fucks and fuck you in every hole
you�ve got,� John said.
�John! Don�t be rude,� Pauline told her husband. She tied fishing line
to my right nipple. It made a pretty bow. Then she tied a hook onto the
end of my line. �Be careful with this,� she told me. �I don�t want it
cutting your pretty skin.�
�My bottom�s already cut,� I said ruefully. Pauline dropped the
plastic bait, with the hook built into it, in the fish tank. The water
rippled.
�You only have a few welts, that�s all,� Pauline told me. �My
husband didn�t cut your skin when he whipped you. It wasn�t that kind of
whipping.�
�She almost cut mine!� Rebecca said.
�I didn�t know what I was doing,� I said. �I never whipped anyone�s
bottom before.�
�It hurts when I sit down,� Rebecca told me.d
�Sorry,� I said.
�You�ll both be better in a few days, if not well before then,� Pauline
said. �There. I�ve tied on the other line, Chloe.� She plopped it in the
water. I pressed my belly to the fish tank. Flatness of glass upon
flatness of flesh. I looked over the edge of the tank and saw my belly
button through the glass.
�This is fun,� I said, jiggling my bosoms. My bait wiggled in the
water.
�Don�t wobble your boobs around,� John told me. �You�ll scare the
fish.�
The moon rose. We stood before a makeshift alter. I wore a dress
that was rucked up in back to show my bottom. The welts were receding.
They were just faint pink lines now. I had a daisy in my hair. I was best
lady at the wedding.
Rebecca was the priest. She wore a dog�s collar around her throat.
A black vest, open in front, hung over her shoulders, showing her
shoulders, her belly, her boobs. Her nest was uncovered. Her legs were
long and bare, but she wore high heels. She was a most unusual priest.
Brad was best man. He wore a black-tailed coat that John had
insisted be raised in back, so that his cute buns could be seen. In front his
penis stuck out lewdly. His balls swung freely between his legs.
Pauline and Chrissy stood next to each other, before Rebecca. They
turned and kissed briefly as Rebecca opened a hymn book to read out the
marriage ceremony. Their bushes showed. Their bosoms peeped over the
rim of their corsets, their nipples just visible. The tips of each woman�s
breasts stuck forth lewdly. Whenever they moved, or breathed, their
nipples stirred the decorative lace fringe on the top of each of their
corsets.
Next to Chrissy stood John. He held her arm possessively. His cock
protruded from underneath a black formal coat. He wore a bow tie. There
were shoes on his feet, well-polished by the slave boys, but his legs were
bare. Steve was dressed in the same fashion, his cock showing, his ass
displayed by the rucking up of his coat in back, his legs naked. Only John�s
butt was covered, by the tails of his long black coat. Everyone else
offered their bottom to the view of the others.
We faced the altar. Rebecca faced us. Dressed as girls, the two
slave boys waited at the end of the room, holding rice. They had flowered
dresses on. There were bright ribbons in their hair. They both wore veils
of white. Under their dresses I knew they were hard as stone, their balls
full. They were eager for sex and I wondered if they�d get to fuck the
bride, or her bride�s maid. John told them to do just as he ordered, and to
throw the rice properly, or they�d be made to entertain us afterwards by
fucking each other.
Rebecca picked up a squirtgun. It was filled with white wine. She
directed it at Chrissy�s bush. She pulled the trigger. A long stream of
wine jetted forth. It struck Chrissy�s bush and wetted it. Rebecca kept
squirting until all the wine in the squirtgun was gone. Chrissy�s bush was
drenched. The small curled hairs of it hung down wetly. She dripped on
the floor.
�Do you, Chrissy, take John here to be your unlawfully wedded
husband?� Rebecca asked with a giggle. Chrissy gulped.
�I do,� Chrissy managed to say. I understood her fear. At the last
minute, it had been agreed that the marriage would have one very
important added feature. Though it was a lewd marriage, giving Chrissy to
John, and Pauline to Steve, it would also be a ceremony that bound each
lover more completely to their true love. For, in a corner, next to a pile of
soft, comfy pillows, stood a brazier. There were two irons heating on the
coals of the brazier. One bore a J. The other bore an S. Though she would
marry John this night, and be impregnated by him, and carry his child,
Chrissy would, to always remember her true love, be branded on her
bottom. With an S. The initial of her real husband�s first name. It would
be the same for Pauline. She would take marriage vows to Steve, and
receive her sperm. But, so she remembered who her real husband was, she
would, before the fucking, be permanently marked with a J.
I could feel Pauline trembling as she stood beside me. Her hand was
in mine. It was sweating.
�Do you, John, take Chrissy as your unlawfully wedded wife?�
Rebecca asked our black host.
�I do,� John said. He felt the squirtgun (there was one for each of
us, lying on the alter) jet out wine upon the length of his penis. �That
makes me have to go to the bathroom,� John said.
�No peeing at the altar,� Rebecca told him. Then she read out the
marriage vows for Pauline. She drenched her pussy with wine. Pauline
agreed to be unlawfully married to Steve. Then Rebecca, turning to him,
shot wine all over his penis.
�And now you, Brad, as best man,� Rebecca said. She drenched his
cock with wine. When the squirtgun designated for him was empty, she
did me. Finally, turning a gun on herself, Rebecca soaked her own pussy.
�Now you may kiss,� Rebecca told the two couples.
Brad and I watched from opposite sides as the four people embraced.
They kissed long and passionately. Brad looked at me with pleading eyes.
His dick was dripping, and I knew there was more than just wine plopping
off the end of it. I lifted my nose. I wouldn�t let him have me. Not yet.
We might get in trouble with John, if we messed up his wedding by balling
at the altar.
�I want to get married,� I said suddenly to Rebecca. Watching John
and Chrissy and Steve and Pauline kiss was making me hungry for it.
�You�re too young,� she answered.
�I want to fuck,� Brad said frankly.
�Go in the bushes if you need it that badly,� I giggled.
John told us to shut up. He said we were messing up his kissing.
Chrissy swooned as he kissed her. I think he managed to stick his tongue
all the way down her throat.
�Now for the brazier,� John said.
�Oh, I don�t--!� Pauline said. There was misgiving in her eyes.
�We must,� John said.
�Will it hurt?� Chrissy asked. Her eyes looked across the room at
the flickering coals.
�No worse than when you birth my child,� John said.
We walked across the room. The steps of Pauline and Chrissy were
hesitant, unsure. Reaching the mound of pillows, Pauline gazed down at
them. Her hand rose to her mouth and fidgeted there. She put a finger
between her lips and uncertainly sucked upon it.
�Down,� her husband, John, said to her in a deep voice. �Get down.�
Pauline whirled about and clutched at her husband�s big frame.
�Please, dear! Don�t make me--� she gasped.
�Get down and spread your ass,� John said to Pauline. She looked up
into his eyes. She gave him a small, pecking kiss on the cheek. Another.
He pushed her away. Not hard, but firmly. She tottered on her heels. He
caught her arm so she wouldn�t fall.
�Help me get her undressed,� John said to Steve. His voice growled.
As we watched, horrified, the two men grabbed Pauline. She shrieked.
They ripped off her bridal gown. They stripped her down to her lovely
white mesh stockings, tearing off even her garter belt, leaving her in just
her elastic stockings. And the pretty white ribbons she�d put in her hair.
Ribboned, stockinged, with her earrings dangling off her ears but
otherwise nude, Pauline gazed again at the brazier. She rubbed her bare
hands up and down her naked arms. Her pubic bush was still moist from
all the wine that had been squirted into it. She touched her bare belly.
Her hands skimmed her bare thighs. She interlaced her fingers across her
wet bush and looked down at them.
�Don�t I at least get a ring?� Pauline said.
�It is an unlawful marriage,� John said. �You don�t get a ring. You
get a brand on your bottom.�
�Oh!� Pauline gasped. She looked again at the brazier and seemed to
reach some sort of mental accommodation with it. She walked around the
mound of pillows. She put her back to the brazier. She looked back over
her shoulder at its glowing coals. Then, she knelt. She stretched out over
the mound of pillows. She opened her legs. She looked up at her husband.
Then, looking away from his cock, which hung over her head, she reached
back behind herself and spread the cheeks of her bottom.
�Very good,� John said to Pauline. �Steve, since you�ll be
impregnating her, you�ll do her the honor of branding her as well.�
�Right,� Steve said. He walked over to the brazier.
�Be careful. I have to live with your handiwork for the rest of my
life,� John told Steve.
�Oh!� Pauline said. She was moved by her husband�s remark that he
would, in fact, love her forever and never leave her. Wet tears appeared in
her eyes.
�Gag her,� John said to Chrissy.
�Me?� Chrissy asked in a meek voice.
�You,� John said.
�But I�m next!� Chrissy blurted.
�Kneel down and gag her,� John repeated.
With trembling hands, Chrissy knelt down. There was a black gag
lying, as if by afterthought, along the back of the piled-up pillows.
Chrissy took the gag. She urged Pauline to open her mouth. Pauline
resisted.
�You must,� Chrissy said to Pauline. �To protect your teeth.�
Pauline at last relented and the gag filled her mouth. It was made of thick
black leather to protect her from biting down on her tongue or of harshly
grinding her teeth. Chrissy leaned over her contrite head and knotted the
gag firmly against her neck, careful to pull her hair free so that it
wouldn�t be bound in with the knot of the gag. �There,� Chrissy said. She
patted Pauline�s head.
�Now her hands,� John said. Chrissy reached back. She clutched at
Pauline�s wrists. Pauline was pressing her hands to the back of her
bottom, opening herself for the brand, showing us her anus.
�Oh! I can feel it!� Chrissy said. �The heat from the brazier is
warming her bottom.� Steve laughed. The brazier sat just beyond
Pauline�s upturned feet. He knelt beside it, stirring the coals. He used an
iron rod. He had an oven mitt on his hand, which had hung on a peg on the
wall next to the brazier, but which he now was wearing. He sat sideways
so that the meatiness of his left thigh protected his naked cock from the
brazier�s heat.
�Her toes are even warmer,� Steve said.
�But I can feel it on her bottom too!� Chrissy said. She picked up
both Pauline�s hands. She drew them out in front of Pauline. Two heavy
iron weights had been placed on the carpet before the ceremony began.
Chrissy now tied each of Pauline�s wrists to one of the weights. The
weights were widely spaced on the floor and they made Pauline�s hands be
stretched wide apart. Behind her, Steve used two weights near her ankles
to tie her legs into a spread-eagled position. The mound of pillows under
Pauline�s belly lifted her bottom high.
Gagged, tied, Pauline looked with pleading eyes up at her husband.
�She is ready,� John said to Steve. �Apply the brand.�
Steve picked up one of the brands that lay warming above the coals.
�Oh! I cannot look!� I gasped. My aunt grasped my shoulders.
�Try,� my aunt breathed. �You have a lovely bottom and someday--�
her voice broke into a sob. She couldn�t speak.
�Someday what--?� I squeaked. I felt my aunt press her chin down
upon my frail shoulder. She held me in front of her, as if clutching a
shield. She tried to speak but she couldn�t. She was too nervous.
�Oh, God!� Chrissy, knowing she was next, cried aloud. She put her
fist in her mouth. She bit it. She drew blood, but none of us noticed, not
even her, until later.
With a quavering hand Steve lifted one of the brands off the hot
griddle. He knelt with his penis erect between Pauline�s legs. He
nervously stroked one of her bare thighs with his fingers. Pauline
squeezed her eyes shut. She seemed to lift her bottom, to evade the brand,
or to offer herself to it? I could not tell. She could only move a little,
because she was stretched out completely and tied.
Only John remained firm, his figure erect and tall, his hands quietly
by his sides, gazing with resolute eyes. He showed no sign of nervousness.
�Steady,� John told Steve. �That�s my wife you�re about to poke in
the ass.�
�I know,� Steve said.
�Ruin her with your nervousness and I�ll do the same to your own
wife�s bottom,� John said.
�Right,� Steve agreed.
�Oh!� Chrissy shouted. She grabbed at one of Pauline�s wrists, as if
to untie it. John scooped her up off the floor. He held Chrissy in his arms.
�No,� John intoned.
�I don�t wish to be branded!� Chrissy babbled. But her voice was
childlike, lost in fear. John held her wriggling body. She stared down at
Pauline.
�Do it now,� John told Steve. Pauline�s hips rocked. Steve placed a
hand on one of the cheeks of her bottom.
�Be still,� Steve said. He prised apart her asscheeks with his
fingers.
�Right next to the anus,� John said.
�Both sides?� Steve asked.
�Just one,� John replied. �Perhaps I will brand the other side
someday, but for now, just do the left inner cheek. I don�t want to use up
all the space in one sitting.�
�It�s more fun to do them one at a time,� Steve agreed. He directed
the brand into the space he�d made, wrenching open her bottom with his
big fingers.
�Oh! Let me help! There isn�t enough room!� my aunt cried. She
tossed me aside like a rag doll. She leapt down on Pauline�s back. To our
surprise, she clapped her hands to Pauline�s bottom. For a moment I
thought she was trying to protect her, but then she widened Pauline�s ass
with stiff-gripping fingers, splitting her cheeks.
�Have you done this before?� Steve asked Rebecca.
�I-- I saw it done once,� Rebecca said. �Put the brand to her while
it is still hot. Do it now.� Frantically Pauline, feeling the weight of
Rebecca on her back, twisted her body. She could barely move, but she
tried her best to escape the long, hot iron that hovered over her bare
fanny. It was no use. My aunt held her firmly between clamping thighs and
her arms and legs were tied tightly to the weights spread out on the floor.
SSSSSSSSSS !!! The sound of hot steel touching warm, naked
bottomfat was heard in the room. Pauline�s eyes gaped. A sound of
screaming, gagged desperation erupted from her thin throat.
�Hold it! Hold it!� Rebecca shouted. Her hair had come free from her
wedding-day coiffure and tumbled prettily down into her eyes. She
struggled to keep Pauline�s squirming bottom apart. Steve, looking rather
like he was fucking Pauline up the ass with the long, hard iron poker, held
the wicked thing against Pauline�s skin. Pauline�s small anal hole tensed.
It drew inward. It went from its small dimpled size to an even smaller
size. Directly next to it the hot iron brand imprinted itself on her
intimate flesh.
�Ten!� Rebecca said. She had been counting, silently. �Take it off!
Now!�
With relief Steve lifted the brand. A harsh raw mark was left behind
in Pauline�s skin, in the furrow of her bottom. It read, �S�. We all gazed
wondrously at it. Pauline trembled between Rebecca�s tight-gripped
thighs. She fainted.
�You idiot! You branded her with your brand!� John screamed at
Steve.
�Yikes! I didn�t realize!� Steve said.
�Oh my God!� Chrissy cried. John, still holding her, gripped her
firmly.
�Then your wife shall bear forever my initial,� John said to Steve.
�Oh, no!� Steve yelled.
Both women sat in wooden tubs. The tubs had been filled with cool
water. The women sat in the nude, their bare behinds submerged in the
tubs. Their feet rested on the carpet. They held hands. There was rice in
their hair, thrown by the slave boys.
�There are our brides, their bottoms branded,� John said to Steve.
�Now all that remains is to fuck them,� Steve said.
�Yes, after their bottoms have a chance to cool off,� John said.
�They are a pretty sight,� Steve said.
�They will make fine mothers,� John agreed.
In the morning, when both Pauline and Chrissy�s bottoms had healed
sufficiently, we went upstairs. Separate bedrooms had been prepared.
One for John and Chrissy. The other for Steve and Pauline. Each bedroom
had a �Do Not Disturb� sign waiting on the outside handle of the door.
Despite our games, our earlier enjoyments, this would be a private,
intimate affair. It would be shared only by the parties involved. No
interference would be allowed. Both doors could be locked from the
inside, to assure complete privacy.
�Good night,� Pauline said. She kissed her husband. He kissed her.
At the same time, Steve and Chrissy kissed farewell. It was morning, the
sunlight bright against the drawn curtains of each bedroom, but both
couples bid each other goodnight anyway. Perhaps they would not see each
other again until the following morning. When they did meet again, both
females would be pregnant, with the seed of a man not their husband.
�I love you,� Chrissy said to Steve. She looked longingly at him.
John drew her away.
�Come. We must go inside,� John said to Chrissy. She turned. She
looked into the waiting bedroom. The covers of the bed were already
drawn back. The sheets were fresh and crisp. On the nightstand, next to
the bed, were lotions and creams and oils. There were no condoms,
however. No birth control pills.
�Oh! I�ll be pregnant when I see you again, dear!� Chrissy blurted
across the hallway to her husband. Steve stood by the door to the bedroom
he would share with John�s wife, Pauline.
�I know,� Steve said. �Say goodbye to your wife,� Steve said to
John.
�I want a boy,� John said to Steve.
�You�ll get whatever I give her,� Steve answered. �Perhaps it will
be a redheaded white boy, who only likes math, and hates girls.�
�For God�s sake, don�t give me a fag!� John said.
�You never know,� Steve answered. �I have a cousin who�s a member
of NAMBLA.�
�I have three relatives who are in the State Penitentiary,� John said.
�Enough of this!� Pauline cried. �We will both have fine children.
Won�t we?�
�Yes!� Chrissy agreed.
�Your son will be a future president,� Steve told John solemnly. �He
will get blow-jobs from every intern in the White House.�
�Come, dear. We have work to do,� Pauline said. She took Steve�s
hand. She drew him into the bedroom.
�Goodbye,� John said from the doorway to his own bedroom. There
was a note of regret in his voice. He gazed across the hall at his wife�s
bare, flat belly. Chrissy kissed his cheek.
�I want a son who�s a rapper,� Chrissy said quietly to John. She
reached between his legs and took hold of his bare cock. We were all
naked, standing there in the hall. The night had passed slowly as the men
waited for the two women to recover from their branding. Chrissy fondled
John�s balls. They looked enormous to me, standing there in the middle of
the hall, watching. She emitted a small loving moan, and squeezed them. I
put a hand to my own snatch and fingered myself.
Steve and Pauline closed the door to their bedroom. I heard them
slide shut the lock on the other side of the door. John and Chrissy, her
hand still touching his testicles, did the same.
�What shall we do?� I asked Brad. My aunt stood holding his hand.
�We are one out,� Rebecca confessed. �Shall we have a menage a
trois?�
�I want to get both of you pregnant,� Brad said to me.
�You can�t, dear. She�s only 13. She goes to a private school, in
America. It�s quite expensive. I�m sure her parents don�t want to have to
pay for two places,� Rebecca said. She grinned at me.
�My mom and dad would be totally shocked if I went home pregnant,�
I giggled to Brad.
�Then let�s just enjoy ourselves, eh?� Brad said. He stroked his bare
cock. �We can, you know, practise.�
�Practising sounds nice,� Rebecca agreed.
We left the island. John steered his boat. Pauline wore a sailor�s
hat and clam-digger pants. She was bare-breasted. There was a small
shirt lying on the bench seat at the back of the boat. She would put it on
as we drew in toward shore, she assured us. I smiled. My bosoms were
also bare. I wore bikini panties, given to me by Pauline. Her hips were
wider than mine and she had cut them with scissors to make them smaller.
She did the same for a bra which I fingered. It hung over one of my
shoulders. I would put it on when I saw another boat, or when we got
close enough to the shoreline for people to see me. I liked being topless. I
could feel the morning sun on my breasts and it felt warm. Perhaps it
would give my nipples a tan.
The boat hit a wave and spray from it crossed over the side of the
boat and splattered upon Pauline�s belly. She laughed. She looked down at
herself. Her belly was flat but we all knew her condition would visibly
change soon. Inside, in her womb, she now carried Steve�s seed. It was
the same for Chrissy. I looked at her bare belly, dry and warm in the sun.
She already had her shirt on, as did my aunt. Both of them had knotted
their shirts so that their bellies showed. My aunt�s would not bloat in the
coming weeks, but Chrissy�s would, as would Pauline�s. I patted my own
belly. I looked over at Brad. He grinned at me.
�I wish I�d gotten pregnant,� I confessed.
�I�m sure it can be arranged,� he said. He wore his jeans. There was
a bulge in the front of his trousers.
�Are you up again already?� I gasped. I looked frankly at his crotch.
�I�m always up, for you,� Brad said.
�I love you,� I gasped. I leaned over and kissed him. He wrapped his
arms around me. I looked up into his eyes. �I wish I had a brand too. On
my bottom.� I said. My voice was soft, babyish.
�Sure you do,� Brad said. He reached into the back of my swim
panties and felt between the cheeks of my ass, in my crack. �Right there.�
�Oooh! Don�t put your finger in my hole!� I gasped.
�What are you two up to?� Rebecca laughed.
�You�d better keep an eye on her,� Pauline warned. �She could wind
up like me.�
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browser�s �Location� window. Press your �return� key.
Click on �Power Search� in the middle of the screen. Next,
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears.
Click on �find� (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges� Radiant
Identities and David Hamilton�s The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over
a decade, it�s Alessandra�s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN the world�s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION