--------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in BIKINI BRIGADE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Eight ÒQuit eating so many lollipops, Al, or youÕll turn into a little girl,Ó Matilda snapped. Al bent and picked yet another Tootsie-Pop out of the grass. He already had a handful of them, as did the others, including even Matilda, who ate hers with a certain degree of lust that sheÕd not felt since she was ten. ÒGiven the catering weÕve had on this expedition of yours, I can hardly blame him,Ó Glenda said. ÒOh, IÕm so glad we found these lollipops growing wild in the meadow,Ó Wilma said. She hurried along after the others, who were walking, after picking yet more of them. ÒGrowing wild?Ó Matilda asked. She raised the lollipop she was eating and looked at it. ÒI hardly would say theyÕre growing wild. WeÕre obviously on some big movie set. Some idiot came along and planted these things in the ground. Tasty, though,Ó Matilda added, and took another hungry lick from hers. ÒItÕs the first food weÕve had since we got here!Ó Al said. ÒI told you we should have stayed in that forest and eaten candy apples.Ó Glenda listened to the distant sound of waves curling and breaking against the shore. She looked to her right and out over a vast sea. She saw no sign of any rainbow. Just clouds, and blue sky, with perhaps a storm forming in the distance. ÒThat was a better location than weÕre in now,Ó Glenda said. ÒAnd weÕve seen no sign of the girls.Ó ÒWell, weÕve just got to keep walking,Ó Matilda said. They crossed to the top of another hill in the grasslands and thatÕs when they saw it. It lay beyond a thin stand of trees. It looked like a marsh. A big, white marsh. Al sniffed the air. ÒI smell marshmellows!Ó Al said happily. ÒOh, I like marshmellows!Ó Wilma said. ÒLook. Up ahead, thereÕs a sign,Ó Glenda said. The four of them walked up to a golden brown sign that had licorice-colored letters on it. It read: ÒMarshmellow Marsh.Ó ÒHmmm,Ó Matilda said. ÒThat sign looks awfully edible,Ó Wilma said, staring at it. Tommy was working. He was in his comfy hole once more, under the bridge. A sign reading ÒHome Sweet HomeÓ hung from the wall. A fire cast light from a fireplace in the corner. He stood wearing an apron, hunched over a workbench. He was making adjustments to a long metal object in his hands. On the workbench was another object, identical to the one he held. The room was a living room. It had a big Jujyfruit fish hanging over the fireplace. It had two overstuffed chairs, and a big couch with lace doilies for headrests. Scattered throughout the room, though, sitting up on the chairs and all over the floor, were bits and pieces of metal. There were machines, and half-finished machines. There were plastic hoses and rubber grommets. TommyÕs tools were scattered all over the room. Hanging next to the ÒHome Sweet HomeÓ sign, tacked up apparently at random, was a calendar. There was a nude female troll on it. ÒToo bad Mom died,Ó Tommy groused to himself, bending over the long object in his hands. ÒSheÕd have brought me dinner if she were still alive.Ó He held up the object and gazed at it in the light from the fire. The flames glinted off it. It had a barrel and a trigger and a handgrip. ÒNow if I could just get the damn thing to shoot,Ó Tommy said. A sound of footsteps, crossing the bridge above him, echoed down into his hole. ÒYipeee! ThereÕs somebody now!Ó Tommy said. ÒTheyÕd better pay me a toll or theyÕre going to get shot!Ó The bridge was long. It ran for a hundered feet across the white expanse of Marshmellow Marsh. Glenda gazed at the surface of the marsh as they stepped up on the bridge and began to cross it. ÒThis place has one hell of a special effects department,Ó Glenda said. ÒAh,Ó Matilda said. She waved her arm dismissively. ÒIÕll bet you most of what weÕre seeing is just a painting!Ó ÒA painting?Ó Wilma asked. She looked over the side of the bridge. A big, white foam bubble appeared underneath her and then popped and disappeared back into the marshmellow ooze. She glanced out farther. She saw a white-colored turtle. It crawled down off a log floating in the white bog and slipped into the goo. Moss-covered cypress trees stood over them, blocking out the midday sun like a shroud. ÒWho goes there?!Ó bellowed a voice behind them. The four of them whirled about. They saw a small figure at the end of the bridge, where theyÕd entered the marsh. He was holding two guns. ÒWho are you? Security?Ó Matilda asked. ÒIÕm Tommy the Troll!Ó Tommy announced. The fact that he was wearing short pants did nothing to add to his hopes of appearing fearsome. Had he considered the matter, he might have done something about this, but Trolls had always worn short pants, and small rubber boots, since time immemorial. And his mom, when she was alive, wouldnÕt serve him dinner if he didnÕt dress like a proper Troll. ÒItÕs a damn midget,Ó Matilda said to Al and Glenda and Wilma. ÒWeÕre trying to find two little girls,Ó Wilma said to the troll. ÒOne is a brunette, and the other is a blonde,Ó Glenda said. ÒAnd not bad-looking, either,Ó Al added, speaking as he sucked on a lollipop. Matilda gave him a scowl. ÒHave you seen any girls?Ó Matilda asked. ÒItÕs rumored there are two girls somewhere,Ó Tommy said. ÒHopefully theyÕre with Licorice Lad by now, in the Citadel of Sweets.Ó ÒBingo!Ó Matilda said. She grinned broadly at her friends. ÒYou see? I was right all along. Those girls are here! Somewhere around here!Ó ÒBut first you must pay me a toll,Ó Tommy said. ÒA what?Ó Glenda asked. She asked it crossly and Tommy felt his knees shake a bit, the way she said it. It reminded him of times when people declared him guilty, and sent him off to the dungeon. ÒA- A toll,Ó Tommy said. He kept his guns levelled on them. ÒAnd what if we donÕt pay it?Ó Matilda asked. ÒThen IÕm going to shoot you,Ó Tommy said matter-of-factly. ÒI canÕt believe this,Ó Matilda muttered. ÒIn fact, IÕm hoping you donÕt pay me a toll, as I do need to shoot somebody, regardless,Ó Tommy added. ÒYou shouldnÕt shoot people. ItÕs not nice,Ó Wilma said. ÒYes. You should only shoot people when youÕre arresting them,Ó Al said. ÒAnd then only if you have to.Ó ÒAnd when youÕre executing them,Ó Glenda said, with a deep frown. She didnÕt like being on this bridge and she didnÕt like being in this marsh and she certainly didnÕt like having a strange little man point a gun at her. ÒWell, youÕre all going to get shot then!Ó Tommy delcared. He pulled the triggers on his guns. A small dribble of marshmellow dripped from their tips. It fell down onto the walkway of the bridge. ÒRats,Ó Tommy added. ÒWhy, dammit! That little freak tried to shoot us!Ó Glenda said. With a bold step she strode forward. She was a tall woman. She raised up her hand like TommyÕs teacher used to do in school, and he could see by her approach that if he didnÕt find a way to make his guns shoot properly, he was going to get thwacked. Maybe even put over her knee and spanked. ÒYikes!Ó Tommy cried. Almost dropping his guns, he turned and leapt off the bridge. He darted into his hole underneth it and slammed shut the door to his underground house. There were weeds growing in front of the door to hide it, and when Glenda bent over the bridgeÕs railing all she saw were the weeds. ÒHeÕs gone,Ó Glenda said. ÒWell, no matter,Ó Matilda said. ÒHeÕs just some short little kid with squirtguns. But he has seen the girls! ThatÕs whatÕs important. LetÕs move along, ladies. You too, Lolita,Ó she added, with a glance at Al. We bathed in a hot spring inside Fruitcake Fort. The spring had been enclosed inside walls of fruitcake, in a small room. It was our first taste of privacy. Katie and I enjoyed it. ÒThis is fun,Ó Katie said. She was submerged to her chin in the water. She put a bubble-blower to her lips, a gift from Freddie, and blew a big bubble. ÒYes,Ó I agreed. I lay on a soft towel next to the steaming pool. I was nude. WeÕd taken off our bikinis to bathe. The pieces of them floated aimlessly along one edge of the pool. ÒDo you want to go to the Bon Bon Forest and eat lots of bon bons?Ó Katie asked me. ÒMaybe,Ó I said. ÒBut we really should get to the Citadel of Sweets.Ó ÒAnd free the Sultan?Ó Katie asked. A tinge of worry crossed her face. ÒYes, I think thatÕs what we must do, Katie,Ó I told her. ÒDonÕt you think so?Ó ÒI dunno,Ó Katie said. She blew another big bubble, even bigger than the one sheÕd blown before. It floated up into the air and then it popped. ÒWe could just eat bon bons in the Bon Bon Forest for the rest of our lives.Ó ÒWith Bon Bon Bibi?Ó I asked. ÒIÕm sure she wouldnÕt mind,Ó Katie said. ÒWeÕd get big and fat like she is, and never meet any boys,Ó I told her. ÒHmmmm,Ó Katie said. She blew another bubble. She seemed unable to decide which she liked better: boys or bon bons. Outside, a sparkling figure wafted down into the courtyard of Fruitcake Fort. ÒHo! Who goes there? Lord Fruitcake, we have a visitor!Ó a gingerman called from the walls of the fort. There was a commotion in the courtyard. Gingermen gathered around the visitor. With her were several others, and they now wafted down, just as sheÕd done, out of the low-hanging clouds. Each visitor was mounted on a large, clear lollipop. Each one sat on the lollipop portion and the stick of the lollipop extended out between each personÕs legs. They looked like witches riding brooms. The first to land now dismounted from her lollipop. She looked about 15-years-old. She had long golden hair that hung to her waist. It was curled, lightly, where it hung free, and where it did not hang free it was bound into two very long, rope-like braids. ÒI am Lolita,Ó the girl said. She wore a long, flowing dress that was covered with lollipops. They sparkled profusely, despite the dimness of the light coming from the overcast sky. Her voice was almost a whisper. Yet it conveyed great power. Freddie Fruitcake came stumbling out of a room of the fort. He had been undressed for bed and now he quickly was trying to get his wardrobe back on, even as he hurried across the courtyard. ÒLolita-- what brings you here?Ó Freddie asked. ÒI thought for a moment we were being attacked!Ó Lolita regarded him with quiet, unassuming eyes. ÒThe hour is late,Ó Lolita said. ÒBoth for this day and for my fatherÕs kingdom.Ó ÒYes,Ó Freddie said. Nervously he drew himself up before the girl, and finished getting his coat on. He was wearing a long coat now, in addition to his parachute pants, but no shirt. He pulled his coat around himself so as not to make a display of his bare chest to the girl. ÒI was just turning in to bed,Ó Freddie said. The light in the courtyard grew dimmer. Night was closing in upon them. The gingermen lit torches and carried them forward to where Lolita was standing. But her own dress, bedecked with sparkling lollipops, cast out a glowing light of its own. ÒI didnÕt know you could fly up mountains on those damn things,Ó Freddie said to Lolita. He pointed at the lollipop sheÕd ridden into the fort on. It floated several feet off the ground, nobody sitting on it at the moment. LolitaÕs retainers each dismounted from his own lollipop. Some of the retainers were males. Others females. They all wore sparkling attire. ÒIt was not possible before,Ó Lolita said. She crossed the courtyard with Freddie. The wind caught at her dress and blew it, sending showers of light across the snow-covered ground. ÒOne could float just a little--Ó ÒYes. Sort of like a trick,Ó Freddie said. ÒIt is due to the changes wrought since my father was thrown in the dungeon by Licorice Lad,Ó Lolita said. ÒIt is only temporary. I think my father is concentrating his power upon it. He has sent word to me to find two girls. Bambi and Katie are their names. They are here?Ó ÒYes,Ó Freddie said. ÒTheyÕre having a bath right now, I think. This way--Ó ÒNo, let them enjoy their bath,Ó Lolita replied. Freddie opened a fruitcake door and led Lolita inside to the interior of the fort. Her retainers followed, as well as several gingermen. Sugar and snow began falling thickly outside. It covered the lollipops and threatened to weigh them down to the earth. Pauline Praline floated on an ice cream sandwich. She sat counting her fingers. ÒOne... two... three... four... five,Ó Pauline announced to the waves. ÒFive. I have five fingers!Ó she said happily. An ice cream cone, floating in the waves, bumped against the side of the sandwich raft she was sitting on. Pauline crawled across the sandwich. Then she remembered that sheÕd learned to walk and she got up and walked instead. She went to the side of the sandwich and bent down. ÒYum!Ó Pauline said, looking at the ice cream. It was vanilla, with a cherry on top. It even had rainbow sprinkles on it. Pauline plucked it out of the creamy sea. She began eating it. ÒThis is one,Ó Pauline said to herself. ÒOne ice cream cone. For me, Pauline Praline!Ó The aurora borealis glowed in the sky. Ice bergs floated in the distance. Pauline sat back down on her ice cream sandwich and ate the entire ice cream cone. She was very happy. Then she lay down on the sandwich and took a nap. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key. Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears. Click on ÒfindÓ (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 SturgesÕ Radiant Identities and David HamiltonÕs 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 - JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION