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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         DESIRE ISLE

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                                        Chapter Nine

         In the days following her beating in her father's study Melanie's 
desire to leave home grew ever greater.  It was as if she had been poised 
between two worlds upon coming home from aspen; one the safe, secure 
world of Appleton, the other the big, wide world beyond.  In one there was 
homework and social obligations, and the duties required of any child by 
its parents.  In the other lay freedom and, potentially, more money than 
Melanie had ever dreamed of.  And with money came power, the power to 
do as she pleased.  Another letter arrived from Candy, saying she had gone 
ahead with the client she had spoken of earlier.  Candy gushed of being 
treated like a woman, of an expensive dinner and a night's stay at a lavish 
resort.  She spoke of more "clients" and more money to come.
         One morning found Melanie, ever the good girl, facing a large 
homework assignment for her French class.  She had gone out dancing the 
night before, then straggled home in the wee hours, leaving her friends 
behind, to attempt to complete the assignment.  Six a.m. found the work 
still far from completion and the school bus due in only an hour.  Melanie's 
French teacher was a bitch, and the entire class, except for a few cocky 
boys, went in mortal fear of her.  Certainly all the students who cared 
about their GPA made certain they didn't cross Miss Crick.  Melanie's mind 
suddenly woke from the depths of drowsiness.  If she hurried, she could 
just make it out of the house before her family woke.
         Eight a.m. found Melanie the first one at the auto dealership.  She had 
never bought a car before, but in her purse was her bank savings book, 
with a grand total of $2,758, the $758 being from odd jobs and 
babysitting.  Melanie marched boldly in, bowling over the delighted 
salesmen as she knew she would.  Certainly no customer in recent memory 
had gotten as much attention at the dealership as Melanie.  She let them 
lead her around for a bit, showing her the cars, and eventually the 
conversation got down to the specifics of making a purchase.
         Everything went well, even the verification by telephone by the bank 
of the sum in Melanie's savings account.  Then the salesmen brought up the 
need for Melanie to get her father ("or some other responsible person") to 
co-sign her car loan for her.  For awhile the conversation ambled about, 
the men delighted to have Melanie in their presence but seemingly 
unflinching in their demand that she get someone to co-sign.  It was then 
that an idea popped into Melanie's head.
         "Why don't you co-sign the loan for me?" Melanie said smartly to the 
dealership's supervisor.
         "Honey, that's not possible," the supervisor replied sweetly, saying 
the words almost by rote.
         "Anything is possible," Melanie said.  She wet her upper lip with her 
tongue.  A shudder ran through the men assembled around her.  It was as if 
that of which they had dreamed seemingly futile dreams was suddenly 
within their grasp.
         "What do you mean?" the supervisor asked.  He sounded like a sly fox 
that had just been offered the proposal of a lifetime.
         "What I mean," Melanie said, drawing her words out, wondering if she 
should say them even as she spoke, "is that I like to suck."
         "Suck?" the supervisor asked.  Suddenly his voice was trembling.  
         "Yes," Melanie said, her voice growing bolder.  "Suck.  But only with 
nice men, who let me do it at my own pace.  Are you a nice man?"
         "Oh, nice!  Very nice!" the supervisor said.
         "We're all nice!" a salesman chimed in.  The men drew closer around 
her.  Melanie sensed their urgency, their quickly disconnecting 
consciences.  She felt fear and stepped back.  Just barely, she passed 
through the ring of men and out a doorway into the main showroom.
         "We'll do this my way, or not at all," Melanie said, hoping desperately 
the men would obey her.  An elderly woman passed by, looking at the cars.  
The salesmen seemed to regain their consciences.  Their looks became 
more humble, entreating once more.  Melanie breathed a sigh of relief.
         The supervisor sensed the opportunity of a lifetime slipping from 
his grasp as quickly as it had come.  "We'll--I'll draw up the paperwork," 
the supervisor said.  "Forget the $2, 578, or whatever it was.  I can write 
the whole thing off as a business expense."
         "That's right, I'm a business woman," Melanie said, feeling the power 
in the words as they rolled over her tongue.  
         "Er, which car would you like?" the supervisor asked.
         "One that looks as good as I do," Melanie said, turning.  She pointed at 
a red Corvette.  "That one."
         With some coaxing Melanie ventured back inside the supervisor's 
office.  She felt herself in control now.  The men had been tamed.  To 
assure her ability to keep the situation firmly within her hands, she had 
the supervisor order the rest of the salesmen out.  
         "I feel nervous with them all standing in front of the door like that," 
Melanie said a moment later, looking over her shoulder at the salesmen, 
who now stood gawking just outside the supervisor's office.
         "Get to work!" the supervisor hollered at his men.
         "We want our share," a salesman called back.  The supervisor looked 
at Melanie.
         "You've got to, er, do all of them," the salesman said with a voice 
torn by desire.  "I can't put the deal through otherwise.  They'd spill the 
beans before you even got out of the lot."
         "They make me frightened," Melanie protested.
         "I'll keep them under control!" the supervisor cried.  "They'll be 
gentlemen, every one of them!"
         "Okay," Melanie said in a quiet voice.  The supervisor beckoned the 
men back in.  The filed in, crotches bulging.  
         "If you manhandle this girl she'll have you all in jail!" the supervisor 
said sternly.  "She's only 16."  Melanie gave a start.  There was a twinkle 
in the supervisor's eyes.  A gasp went up from the salesmen.

Melanie sat demurely watching the supervisor as he drew up the last of 
the paperwork.  "Pity you don't have any European cars," Melanie purred.  
The supervisor looked up at her, his brow sweaty with tension.
         "Yeah, right," the supervisor said in a shaky voice.  "No Rolls, either.  
Try covering that up as a business expense."
         "I rather fancy Rolls," Melanie said quietly, relishing her power over 
the men.  "But a 'Vette will have to do, I suppose.  Of course I could always 
try the Jaguar dealer down the street."
         "Oh, no!  No!" the supervisor said in a panic, looking up once more 
from all the paperwork.  "We'll take real good care of you here, won't we 
men?"  The salesmen nodded their heads vigorously.   "The guys down the 
streets are real assholes, totally sleazy!  You're in good, er, hands with us!  
We're upstanding auto salesmen!"  A few final strokes of the supervisor's 
pen were then rendered across the paperwork, and it was done.  He handed 
it to Melanie and she signed it.  When the supervisor took the paperwork 
back from her he stared at her lovely, flourished signature as if a goddess 
had signed it.
         When the keys had been handed over Melanie cocked her head and 
regarded the lineup of crotches circling round her right side.  "Well, men?" 
she said.  "No sale is complete without a deposit, is it?"  At once the men 
unzipped themselves.  A moment later Melanie was surrounded by a forest 
of very long-stemmed toadstools.  Several of the cocks already had 
droplets of pre-cum on their tips.  The supervisor's office door had already 
been shut, the shades drawn.  Now all that remained was for Melanie to 
open her mouth.
         Melanie leaned forward and took the first of the pricks twixt her 
slender fingers.  She parted her pink lips.  She extended her tongue.  She 
flicked off the droplet of pre-cum that glistened at the cock's tip.  Then 
she swirled her tongue around the cock's flange.  "Mmm, this is quite a big 
one," Melanie purred.
         Some time later, her hair slightly mussed, her tummy feeling rather 
full, Melanie drove out of the car lot in her new Corvette.  For the most 
part the men had obeyed, though a few had practically gagged her trying to 
deep throat her.  Melanie had no experience with sucking a cock all the way 
down her throat, but she knew she must learn.  Except for a few drying 
droplets of sperm on her white blouse, she looked as neat and wholesome 
as she had when she walked into the place.  But now, at least, she had 
become a bit more of a woman.  She had actual whoring experience under 
her belt.  Real experience, beyond the protective tutelage of Gwen.  And 
she hadn't been whipped.  Eight men's cocks in one job!  Let Candy top that!

30

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