--------------------------------------------------------------- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in DESIRE ISLE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Six That afternoon Gwendolyn insisted on the girls getting bundled up and going skiing. Earlier David had mysteriously disappeared, and the room where Martin was confined was locked tight, with Gwendolyn refusing to breathe a word about the location of its key. Both Melanie and Kimberly were considerably aroused from their lunch, and seemed distracted as Gwendolyn made them dress and outfit themselves in the proper gear. Gwendolyn smiled to herself. There would be no resistance on either girl's part when it came time for them to be led to love. Melanie got her first real look at the Chateau's surroundings when the girls went outside with Gwendolyn. Melanie blew out her breath. It seemed to fog the distant trees. All about the air was quiet and still. A sun mired behind haze nonetheless cast a bright, crisp light over the hills. Gwen's chateau sat all by itself, with only the occasional pine for company. Farther out the road that snaked within a stone's throw of the house disappeared amidst a line of trees. In the distance mountains rose. "Ready girls?" Gwendolyn asked. "Yes ma'am," Melanie said. She wondered why she still called the woman "ma'am." Kimberly sometimes called her "Gwen," but then the two of them had made love to each other in the sauna. No matter, the woman was rich, and older than they, and, if truth be told, a madam, at least for the highest strata of men in society. It wasn't a bad way to earn a living, really, considering most women had to marry for their comfort and security, or work their asses off for some corporation. Everyone made their living in the way that suited them best. Gwendolyn just seemed to have more fun at it than most. With a wriggle of her curvaceous hips Gwendolyn shoved off, skiing down the hillock, parallel to the road. Kimberly kicked off behind her, using her poles, giving a little squeal as she just managed to miss a bare little sapling growing in the snow covered front lawn. Melanie followed. Down through the powder they raced, picking up speed as they went, coming to the bottom of the first little hill only to ride on to the slope of a bigger one. Melanie felt the chill air biting into her face and felt an exhilarating sense of freedom. She had a woman who attended to her every need, and a man who seemed to love her. And, of course, there were always the goings on of her little stepsister for comic relief. Kimberly's bottom still burned from her whipping, though it had been almost entirely replaced now by a warm, bulbous glow, leaving any pain she felt largely to the province of her imagination. A cacophony of little girl thoughts raced round in her mind, a wish for bubblegum, an wondering about the imminent release of a new pop idol's record, an excitement at being on the snow. Much later the girls came to rest in a little clearing. Gwendolyn sat down on a stump and heaved her chest as she pulled off her tasseled cap. Kimberly rubbed her mittened hands together. "Gwen, I have to go to the bathroom," Kimberly said. Melanie felt the need to go to. It was the cold. "Well, this should be the perfect rest spot for you, then," Gwendolyn said cheerily to Kimberly. "I've often gone here myself." "Right here? In the snow? How?" Kimberly asked. Her hips gave a little quiver. "Look," Gwendolyn pointed. "See that tree stump?" It was an old stump that had somehow lost its middle. Either edge of the stump still stood, but between the two halves there was nothing. It was rather like a canyon, but with no front wall or back wall and a floor made of the surrounding snow. "Sit there just like you would on a chair. Then just pull down your pants and pee. The ground slopes very nicely down and away from the rear of the slump, so your pee will just roll backward on the snow, away from your feet. You can even poop too, if you wish." Kimberly seemed in no position to argue, given the constant little movements her hips felt obliged to render. She walked with a slightly awkward gait over to the stump. She sat down carefully and undid her pants. Then Kimberly lifted her bottom slightly from the surface of the stump and pulled her jeans down to her knees. She sat her bottom well back on the stump. Then, with a sheepish grin, she began to pee. Melanie couldn't help laughing. "What do they call Yellowstone in winter?" Melanie asked Gwendolyn. "Tell me," Gwendolyn smiled. "Yellowsnow," Melanie laughed. When Kimberly was finished she self-consciously pulled up her pants and got up from the makeshift potty. Then Melanie, having had her little sport with Kimberly, surprised both her friends by revealing her own need to pee also. She padded over to the stump and gingerly sat down. She repeated the same actions as Kimberly. Finally Gwendolyn, perhaps only wanting to join her friends, paid her own visit to the woodland potty. Gwendolyn knew a roundabout approach to her cabin that gave them almost as many hills to ski down as the outward journey had. When they got back the sun was waning fast, and the chateau looked especially inviting. Soon all three girls were stripped naked and in the sauna. Kimberly sat shyly next to Gwendolyn, remembering their encounter the previous night. For her own part Gwen kept up her staid countenance. She anointed herself with baby oil, then invited Kimberly to produce steam by pouring water over the sauna's hot coals. The girl eagerly obliged, happy to have something to occupy her fidgety hands. Melanie, demure and retiring like Gwendolyn, contented herself with merely soaking in the heat. Later Gwen passed her the bottle of baby oil and, like some Egyptian princess, she oiled down her limbs, carefully working the salve into every inch of her body. When finally she was still once more, the bottle empty beside her, she sat with eyes closed and legs spread wide. She dreamed of being taken by Earl. That evening Gwendolyn took the girls to a shopping mall in her limo, driving them herself. They all sat three abreast in the car, along the front seat. The affairs of the previous night in the back of the limo surfaced briefly, but then were suppressed or forgotten. Gwendolyn gave each of the girls a credit card with her name on it, and insisted over Melanie's objections that the girls spend some of her money. "First, however, each of you must accompany me to the beauty salon," Gwendolyn said. "If you're to stay with me you must always look your very best." Saying that, she took the girls to a little shop in the mall where the proprietress lavished every attention on them and didn't let them leave until every last strand of their hair had been assiduously attended to. Later, on the way home, loaded with new clothes, shoes, and accessories, Melanie suggested that they must stop by the girl's hotel to check on their room and see if there had been any calls from their parents. There had, and, suppressing giggles, the girls called their parents collect and acted as if not a thing out of the ordinary had happened during their stay. Of course they did not tell them that they were no longer sleeping in their hotel room. David did not reappear for dinner, but Gwendolyn cooked a meal herself for the girls and sat down with them. Melanie found herself wishing Earl would drop by. "Where is David?" Kimberly asked, lifting a big spoonful of homemade chili to her lips. "Gone, I'm afraid," Gwendolyn said, stirring her soup and then lifting a helping to her own lips. "He left me a note but I couldn't read it. Such a nice boy." "He didn't even say goodbye," Melanie pouted. "Perhaps he's only out for a bit and will be back," Gwendolyn said. "I'm afraid the fact that he can't speak or write English makes him rather like one's dog, leaving the house, then coming back later, moving to his own schedule and timetable." "Well how about Martin?" Melanie asked. "Are you just going to leave him locked up in the cellar?" "He has a little room to himself with a toilet and sink, plus a small refrigerator to keep him fed until I move out this weekend," Gwendolyn said. "You see, girls, you are not the only ones who have to depart at the end of the week. I too must go." "But why?" Kimberly asked. "It seems so nice here." "Yes, but I long for the sun," Gwen replied. "I'm tired of snow in the winter. I've found a place in Europe, on the Mediterranean. Saturday the movers will come and pack me out. Sunday the new tenant will move in. He's an acquaintance of mine. I'll let him release Martin. Then watch that pig snort and squeal when he finds I'm gone and he must hunt all over the coasts of Europe for me if he wishes to tell me off, or try to use his schooling whip on my behind!" Gwendolyn tittered. "I rather liked him," Melanie said quietly, partaking of her chili. The broth was thin, but it was chock full of little morsels of hamburger, with bits of tomato, celery, and cheese for accompaniment. "I did too once," Gwen said. "So much so I contemplated marrying him." Melanie looked up, surprised. "But the more I was around him the more distasteful he became to me. Trust me, girls, Martin is not for you, despite the fact that I almost put him to your bottom yesterday, Melanie. He is a grasping, greedy son ofa bitch." Melanie winced at Gwen's profanity. The woman must really have a dislike for the man. "May we visit you in France, Gwen?" Kimberly asked. The girl was calling the woman by her first name almost always now. "You may stay with me if you wish, provided you can arrange it with your parents," Gwendolyn replied. "Melanie no doubt can jet off with me no matter what her parents think but you, Kimberly, no matter how much you might wish it were not so, are still a minor. I wouldn't want to be accused of kidnapping you." A wry smile crossed Melanie's face. Kimberly noticed it and glowered. After dinner Gwendolyn introduced Kimberly to some video games in her parlor. The girl took to them with predictable relish. Melanie only looked on, disinterested in such childish fare. Gwen seemed pleased with Melanie's lack of interest, and drew her away into another room. At Gwen's urging Melanie seated herself on the soft cloth of a loveseat. Gwen sat beside her, and drew off a pack of cards from a shelf behind them. To Melanie's surprise, the cards were decorated to commemorate the profession of prostitution. The king was the man who paid for pleasure, the queen the madam who received his money. The jack was a young girl learning the ways of love. The two began a simple, pleasant game. The conversation naturally became concerned with harlotry. "There has been a change of plans," Gwen said quietly. "About tomorrow." Melanie looked up. "Oh, I so wanted to see Earl's office!" Melanie said. "You still may. He just won't be there, is all," Gwen replied. "Another man will be, however." "To show us around?" Melanie asked. "In a manner of speaking," Gwen said. In fact she had trouble suppressing a giggle. Earl's absence was not unplanned. He would be in a room adjacent to the office, taking pictures, which would later be shown around. "I must ask you, how do you feel about trying out being a tart?" Melanie sat quietly for a moment, pretending to study her cards. A queen and jack stared up at her; nude, svelte, willing. Beyond, lying face up on the cushion of the chair, was a king, his rod swollen and ready. In the hand of the queen was a riding crop. There was a touch of fright to the female jack's countenance. It seemed to make her more appealing. "IÑI would only ever be willing to try it with you," Melanie said to Gwen. "With you as my madam." "Then tomorrow will be your first assignment," Gwen said. "A man you do not know, have never seen before, and are unlikely to see again. He has been tested, though, and found to be free of disease. The other madams and I have a doctor downtown who we employ for just such a purpose. All orders must be cleared by him before they can be filled." Melanie looked up. She met Gwen's eyes and seemed to have faraway thoughts. "Do you haveÑ do you have a doctor in Europe as well?" "Of course dear, no party is allowed to proceed without one," Gwen said. "There is a loose confederation of doctors around the world who exist for the sole purpose of insuring that the parties of the rich are infection free. All of the men are checked, and some of the females. We have had no problems. The fee for tomorrow's assignment is $2,000." "$2,000?!" Melanie blurted. Her eyes gaped wide. A trace of a smile lifted up the corner of her lips. "With $500 for me," Gwen said. "I've heard of girls getting $200 an hour, but notÑ" Melanie began. "I run a high class service," Gwen said simply. "Afterwards I shall take you shopping, if you likeÑ or you can save your money. We're always paid in cash." "Tax free," Melanie said, musing over her cards once more. She offered one up to the game. It was the jack. "Of course," Gwen replied. "Now let's finish this quickly and get you off to bed. You will need your rest for tomorrow." With quick cardplay Gwen managed to win the game betwixt them in less than three minutes. Gwendolyn came into Melanie's room after her bath and gave her a sleeping pill. Melanie was happy for it, she knew she would have slept fitfully otherwise, anticipating the morrow. Soon, snuggled up in her bed in a silk teddy Gwen had given her, Melanie slipped off to dreamland. Melanie was groggy in the morning when a rustling by her side roused her from her slumber. Gwen was there, a porcelain teacup in her hand. Melanie, still lying down, with her head propped up somewhat by her fluffy pillow, took the cup in both her small hands. Gwen helped her tip it to her lips and drink it. When the cup was empty, Gwen had Melanie sit up. She took a brush and glossed Melanie's hair, getting out all the little kinks that had developed during a night of sleep. Melanie sat with one of her teddy's spaghetti straps hanging down by her elbow. It left her right bosom bare. As Gwen brushed Melanie's hair she smoothed the remaining strap off Melanie's shoulder. The teddy fell down her torso, its straps confining her arms even as her breasts were left totally naked. Gwen smoothed the remains of the teddy into a pool of folds in Melanie's lap. Her tummy shone pale and flat, her darling little navel a reminder of the fucking that had brought her into the world, crying, with an umbilical cord stretching back into her mother's womb. She had had to be spanked to get her breathing, to bring her into the world of the living. "After your bath you will find a few things lying on your bed to wear," Gwen said softly but firmly. "Put them on, and nothing else. Then come down the hall to my bedroom and I'll sit you down in front of my beauty mirror and do your makeup. It must be perfect." Melanie nodded. Gwen rose, picked up the empty teacup from where it had been placed on a nightstand beside the bed, and left the room. Melanie watched the woman as she walked out. Tall, regal, hips swaying with the fullness of womanhood, back straight and erect. Melanie found herself hoping she one day might be as sophisticated and worldly as Gwen. Perhaps this "assignment" would help. After a languorous bath Melanie walked back out to her bedroom, still towelling herself, to find a beautiful fur coat laid out. Melanie gasped. Was this to be hers? She could hardly believe it! Then she cast her eyes about for the remainder of her clothes. There was nothing, save a long pair of polished black leather boots, and a skimpy pair of lacy white panties. Melanie found herself letting out another gasp. Was she expected to wear nothing but panties to her "assignment"? After a rather contemplative dressing, Melanie swished her way down the hall in her new fur coat to Gwendolyn's bedroom. "Ah, you're just in time!" Gwen smiled, rising from her beauty mirror. She motioned for Melanie to remove her coat, which she hung in the closet. Melanie took a seat in front of the makeup mirror and Gwendolyn trotted over. They engaged in small talk as Melanie was fitted with large, dangling earrings and her face worked over until its natural beauty was absolutely exquisite. By tacit agreement they said nothing of the upcoming event at the office. Finally Gwen urged Melanie from the chair before the mirror and stepped back to admire the full effect of her work. "You really don't need any makeup at all," Gwen grinned. "But I suppose a male likes to know that his female has spent a lot of time dithering over her appearance." Melanie brushed her hair back with a svelte caress of her hand and looked at herself in the mirror. "I liked the attention," Melanie said. "You've made me feel spoiled." "Back into your fur coat," Gwen said, fetching the garment from the closet and bringing it over. Melanie slipped it back on. It made her feel warm and secure. Gwendolyn and Melanie slipped quietly out of the house. Melanie caught a glimpse of Kimberly as she passed the parlor. The girl was sitting with a thick shawl draped over her shoulders, engrossed in a video game. The twin hemispheres of her bottom stuck out nakedly beneath the fringe of the shawl. She sat crosslegged on the floor, like a little child. She knew nothing of Melanie's "assignment." Melanie felt very privileged as she swayed her way out of the limo that dropped her and Gwendolyn off outside Earl's office building. As the twin females moved together through the building's lobby Melanie felt the eyes of other girls upon her. Even on the elevator and then down the hall where they got off females gazed at her. The fur coat she wore was the envy of them all, and no doubt they thought it matched by equally splendid clothes underneath. Past a private secretary with perfectly coiffed hair and an ample bustline they walked, into a luxurious corner office. A man rose from behind a big mahogany desk as Gwendolyn softly closed the door behind them, shutting out the secretary. Melanie let her eyes take in the man in a steady, innocent stare. He was at least 20 years older than she, but he moved with a grace and dignity unmatched by any males his junior. Wide shoulders surmounted a trim frame. His muscles seemed still taut and lean; with looks like that, he had no doubt trained many a girl. Melanie felt like a virgin. She was in totally uncharted territory. Never before had she explored such a relationship. Gwen stepped up behind her and slipped the fur coat off her shoulders. Naked she stood now before the man, save for her teensy white panties. Somehow she knew she would not be required to take off her glossy black boots. The man came right up to Melanie and cupped her chin in his hand. He lifted it. "What is your name?" the man asked. "Melanie," the blonde answered, almost whispering. "You may call me Dick," the man replied. Was it his real name? Or just one he had made up for the event, Melanie wondered. His eyes skimmed down to her breasts. Naked they quivered before him. He seemed to drink in their fullness, but evidenced no desire to touch them. "Do you know why you are here?" Dick asked. "To be of assistance to you sir," Melanie replied. She had been told by Gwen to say that. "Ah, how gracefully put," Dick smiled. It was a friendly smile, fatherly, yet one that Melanie could see would brook no disobedience. "I brought the cane," Gwen said from behind. Melanie felt a shiver run down her spine. Must they cane her? She knew if Gwen had not had her birched in the snow she would have bolted from the room then and there. "Ah, good," Dick replied, his eyes never leaving the front of Melanie's form. His gaze drifted down to her undies. Her little undies, so insignificant, insubstantial. Yet Melanie could see in his demeanor that they would not be allowed to remain on her. "Take off your panties," Dick said. "Yes sir," Melanie replied, trembling with awareness at the cane Gwen held at her back, at the rising tent in Dick's crotch. She loosed the little ties of her drawers and, standing with her legs slightly parted, watched them flutter to the floor. Dick cupped her chin once more and lifted her face to his. "You are so very pretty," Dick said admiringly. He kissed her once, lightly, on the forehead. Melanie felt very much like a little girl. A little girl in the omnipotent hands of her daddy. "Come and admire the view," Dick gestured, and led Melanie over to the picturesque window behind his desk. It opened onto a breathtaking view of the lake. Bottom bulbing, Melanie stood before the window. She placed her hands to the glass. It felt cold. She pressed her breasts against it. Her perky nipples squished against the hardness of the glass. The chill coming off the glass made her nipples feel an even greater need to erect themselves. Melanie exhaled her breath and watched as it fogged the glass, then slowly cleared. Beside her Dick stood, hand benignly on her bare shoulder, impeccably attired. Behind her she could hear rustling. When she turned around again to face the office a small crimson cushion had been placed on the far edge of the desk. "May I fix you a drink?" Dick asked gallantly. "Yes," Melanie breathed. She felt all tingly, as if possessed by a delirium tremens even before taking her first sip of wine. Dick urged her to a small portable bar set against the wall and poured an expensive red into a glass for her. Melanie lifted the glass with both hands and supped from it carefully, not wishing to smudge her lipstick or stain the corners of her mouth with the juice of the grape. Dick imbibed as well, and, after a moment, Gwendolyn. Melanie felt a bit silly as she stood before the male and female, they outfitted in the latest office wear, she stark naked. "Come, it is time for you to sit upon my desk," Dick said finally, mysteriously. Melanie walked over to the edge of the desk and, at Dick's urging, perched her bottom upon the satin red cushion. "Lie back," Dick insisted. Melanie made to lean back on her elbows, but was eased further back until her head came to rest upon the hardness of the desk. Gwen lifted her head then and slipped a second small cushion beneath her crown to comfort her. "Relax, darling," Gwen said softly. Her fingers whispered over Melanie's facial cheeks. Melanie, her eyes before intent on keeping the end of the desk where her bottom lay in view, now let her eyes slip to a more relaxed pose, gazing up at the ceiling. Melanie felt Dick grasp one of her ankles and pull it sideways along the front of the desk. Suddenly a leather strap was looped about it. Melanie made to look up but Gwen eased her face back down, forced her to stare once more at the ceiling instead of the suitor at her loins. Melanie felt her ankle secured to what she knew must be the forward leg of the desk. Melanie's other ankle was drawn apart, leaving her legs in a wide, vulnerable vee. It too was latched down, this time to the other forward leg of the desk. Melanie shivered visibly. Her legs were practically straight, knees just allowed the slightest buckling. Half her bottom, the cushion underneath, was jutting out beyond the end of the desk. Her pussy was fully displayed to all who might wish to partake of its beauty, the tight, furred little lips still slumbering in virginal quietude, dry and untouched. One by one Gwen unbent Melanie's arms, taking them from where she had lain them protectively over her breasts. They in turn were each adorned with a restraining leather strap, affixing them to each of the rear corners of the desk. Finally a collar was looped around Melanie's throat and buckled. A leash was attached and run back over the rim of the desk to be tied off to a knob protruding from the desk's center drawer. "She is ready," Gwen said softly, easily to Dick. "This will hurt a bit," Dick said. Melanie twisted her eyes downward as best she could and caught a glimpse of the cane being uplifted. It was a sliver of green bamboo fitted into an ivory handle. So insubstantial, yet wicked looking. Could such a slender implement really cause her pain? Melanie winced as the first blow fell. Right on the inside of her creamy thigh, leaving a burning stripe in its wake. Again. Melanie bucked soundlessly upon the desk, hips uplifting, small of her back bowing. Why were they whipping her front? Why not her bottom? A seizure of fear possessed Melanie as she thought of her sweet little quim open to the fall of the cane. Would they dare to whip her there? Melanie felt just the slightest tinge of moisture come to her pussy. She couldn't believe it! Her pussy was being aroused by the thought of being given pain. The next blow fell and Melanie let out a little cry. Pain, mixed with an undeniable sense of passion. Some time later Melanie was sobbing loudly. Her big breasts wobbled upon her straight, firm chest, above the delineation of her ribs, the concavity of her stomach. The juncture of her thighs was a welter of painful stripes. They had hit her pussy, Gwen even taking part in the punishment. Melanie couldn't believe she was even still alive, the pain was so intense. She longed to see her loins, to nurse them, to pet the once pretty lips and kiss them until they were better. Suddenly she felt a wet kiss and the tang of lipstick upon her quim. Gwen was kissing her there. Then the woman unlaced the leather bands which held her ankles fast. Dick came around behind Melanie and undid her wrist straps and collar. With trepidation in her eyes Melanie struggled to sit up. Dick's hand at her back helped her. She had to scoot her bottom inward to get all of it back upon the desk. The cushion travelled with the spheres of her flesh. Legs parted for she feared to close them, Melanie looked down. A mass of red striped covered her inner thighs. A few had even been laid on her tummy. With Gwen holding her shoulders from the front to steady her, Melanie put her hands very tenderly to her pussy lips and looked down at them. Surprisingly, they were as pretty as ever, evincing almost no signs of the whacks they had sustained. Obviously Melanie had been mistaken about the punishment they had received. The few strokes which had hit her quim had become confused with those many more which had landed on her inner thighs. Looking down at her quim, Melanie felt a need to pee. She voiced her desire and the cushion was withdrawn from underneath her bottom. Gwen and Dick had Melanie scoot forward on the desk until the aperture of her peehole was over the floor. Melanie was half standing, half sitting, her booted toes resting on the floor, heels uptilted. "Pee into this demitasse," Gwen cooed. Melanie looked up, surprised. The woman had placed an empty wine glass below the juncture of Melanie's thighs. Seeing that the woman was dead serious, Melanie glanced at Dick, standing off to one side. He just smiled back, waiting for her to begin. Melanie looked down at her pussy once more. Her long hair, mussed from the writhing of her head during the caning, spilled unkempt locks over her slim shoulders. Melanie drew in her breath and bit her lower lip. She put a pair of fingers to her pussy lips and parted them. She began to pee. Melanie walked with a distinctly awkward gait as she left Earl's executive suite. Her thighs burned at the slightest contact. Her hair was mussed. Her lipstick was prettily smeared. She wore her expensive fur coat pulled tight, head bowed. Melanie felt ashamed, yet at the same time she knew that if she did not leave Earl's office with a bearing similar to that with which she had entered, his co-workers would know something was up. Melanie stole a furtive glance at Earl's private secretary as she swished by the woman, Gwen at her side. Earl's secretary sat at her desk, a tongue on her lip as, open mouthed, she seemed to busy herself with the task of scrolling a sheet of paper into a typewriter. Did Melanie catch a knowing look on the woman's face? For the first time she noticed the blonde woman's full bosom, seemingly braless. Had she too tasted the forbidden fruits of Earl's office? Earl had not come--he had not even taken out his penis! Had Melanie been a mere prelude to Earl's excitement, to be followed by a more romantic encounter with his secretary? All these thoughts did nothing to help Melanie keep her head up. In the limo Gwen caught sight of a tear pearling down Melanie's cheek. With a whisper of compassion Gwen wiped it away with her nail. "Is something troubling you, darling?" Gwen asked when the tear had been removed. Melanie snuffled. "I thought he loved me," Melanie whimpered. "Who? Earl?" Gwen asked as the limo whisked them home. Melanie nodded silently, to a titter of laughter from Gwen. "My dear, there is love and lust in this world, and men seem to have a monopoly on the latter," Gwen smiled. This remark sent Melanie's face into her hands, and a loud snuffle followed. Gwen stroked Melanie's hair, her fingers perhaps returning a semblance of order to the girl's lemon locks as they slipped between the strands. "Earl loves you for what you are; a sprightly young maiden who can buck and rear beneath his crop as well as any filly he has trained. I know you pleased him because he insured that you get the full $2,000 fee, by giving us a generous tip." Melanie only cried more, the sobs coming regularly now. The limo's driver, separated by glass, heard nothing. "I'm glad you're crying, do you know why?" Gwen asked after a bit. Melanie, head still in her hands, shook her head no. "Because it means you weren't really submitting to Earl for the money. You were doing it because you believed in it, and him. I like that. It means you have class. That's how I am. I didn't tell you earlier, because I didn't think you'd understand. I don't whore for the money, though every girl likes money, and what it can buy. I whore because I respect and trust the men who pay me. The money is only a bonus." "I think Kimberly would do it just for the money," Melanie said, lifting her tear streaked face, suddenly regaining her composure, becoming her old self again. "Now, we don't know that," Gwen replied, still running her fingertips through Melanie's hair. "In any event she's too young to get into the business, at least in my opinion. Some men would disagree with me, of course. It will be up to you to look after her once we part. She's more inclined to get into mischief than you are, I think." "She loves to have strings of boys wallowing in her beauty and play them off against one another," Melanie said. "She feels no commitment to them at all." Gwen touched the tip of her nail to Melanie's chin. She lifted it. She looked the girl in the eyes; her deep, blue, widely spaced innocent eyes. "You must learn to check your sense of commitment, and Kimberly must develop hers more. I don't think I have to tell you that you will never see Earl again. Oh, you might--there's always a chance. But he's moving on too, sick of the cold, down to South America to find new adventures for himself amongst the Latin women. You were used by him and he enjoyed you. Now put him out of your mind, even as you relish the last traces of him in the burning in your thighs." Melanie looked at Gwen for a moment like a frozen rabbit just before it bolts. Then she crushed herself to Gwen and held the woman tightly, beginning to sob once more. "Oh, Gwen! I hate you and love you at the same time!" Melanie cried. "My life before I met you seems so trite and boring now, in fact I longed to change it. Yet now, now I'm frightened of the possibilities you've opened up to me!" Gwen patted the girl on the back of her head. "We must part too, my dear, but the world is full of friends, if you know how to find them. I shall introduce you to another before you go," Gwen said softly. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/ Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive. Type: roller666@earthlink.net into the ÒPower SearchÓ box. Click on ÒFindÓ (the button to the right of the box). -----Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated Or via the Web: http://www.eroticstories.com http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -----Great books by David Hamilton: The Age of Innocence, A Place in the Sun, Twenty Five Years of an Artist. By Jock Sturges: Radiant Identities Need a book? http://www.amazon.com -----Great sites: http://www.nambla.org http://www.AlessandraSmile.com -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF story EMISSION