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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                    AMSTERDAM DAMSELS

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                                          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.

30

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