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Sexiest little girl contest!
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Recently I went to Target. To be honest, I didnÕt need to buy
anything. I was looking for someone to spend Christmas with. You know, a
discreet divorcee, about 50. A mature older woman who I could get off
with, who wouldnÕt tell anyone afterwards. Nothing gets my blood hotter
than to be commanded by some powerful, dominant lady to empty my balls
into her. ÒYes, dear! Right away, dear!Ó I was already practising saying,
and having hot flashes as I was saying it. In my pocket I was fondling a
photo of Hillary Clinton. God, what a woman! Next to Janet Reno, who I
guess is too old for me, sheÕs my favorite. I have no idea how Bill could
have fallen for some innocent intern when he had Hillary to command him!
I walked by the toy section. I was going to the womenÕs clothing
section, where I was hoping to pose as some guy trying to find something
for his wife. Surely some woman would happen upon me there, and have
some recommendations for me! But before I could get there, who did I see
in amongst the toys, but Perply?
ÒPerply!Ó I cried. He gave me a furtive look.
ÒDonÕt speak so loudly, Joe,Ó he said.
ÒWhat are you doing here?Ó I asked. ÒLooking for little girls?Ó
ÒNo,Ó he whispered. He picked up a girlsÕ makeup set. ÒIÕm looking
at little girls.Ó
I looked around me. It was a slow day. There was nobody in the toy
section.
ÒThere arenÕt any little girls here,Ó I said to Perply.
ÒYes there is,Ó he insisted. He held up the girlsÕ makeup set. ÒRight
here,Ó he said. And he pointed to a girl on the box, who was gazing
excitedly out from it, doing something with play makeup.
ÒWow. SheÕs cute,Ó I admitted.
ÒYes,Ó Perply agreed.
ÒTo bad sheÕs not 50,Ó I commented.
ÒSheÕs 8, Joe. YouÕve got a long wait ahead of you,Ó Perply said.
Then his hands trembled. ÒBut I donÕt!Ó he cried.
ÒPerply! YouÕre not going to take that box home with you and
masturbate over it, are you?Ó I asked. He smiled guiltily.
ÒNoooo,Ó he said. ÒIÕm going to do research.Ó
ÒWhat sort of ÔresearchÕ?Ó I asked him. IÕm on to PerplyÕs ways.
HeÕs the sort of fellow who watches Saturday morning cartoons, just to
wait for the Barbie ads.
ÒItÕs not what you think, Joe. IÕm not going to masturbate, really!Ó
ÒPerply,Ó I said. ÒItÕs bad enough that you sit at home on Saturday
morning, jerking off to Barbie ads. Have you now extended your perversion
to little girlsÕ makeup kits?Ó
ÒWellll,Ó Perply said, still looking guilty. ÒActually, Joe, IÕm taking
submissions for the sexiest little girl contest. But donÕt let anyone know
IÕm here. People will think IÕm a sissy if they see me looking at little
girlsÕ toys.Ó
A week later I went over to PerplyÕs. I was still in search of a
divorcee, and my search was not going well. Three gay guys had
propositioned me in the ladiesÕ clothing sections of various department
stores, but no women.
ÒHow is your ÔresearchÕ coming along?Ó I asked Perply, when he let
me inside.
ÒVery well,Ó he replied. He pointed to his wall. There, thumbtacked
to his wall with great care, each one wrapped in plastic, was a girlsÕ toy
or a magazine with a girl on the cover of it. They were all little girls, of
course. Not one was over 12. ÒThese are my final contestants, Joe,Ó
Perply told me. I eyed him suspiciously.
ÒYou arenÕt jerking off over them?Ó I asked him.
ÒNo,Ó Perply said. ÒI only masturbate over the little girls in the
Barbie ads. But none of them made my final cut.Ó I looked again at the
wall.
ÒBut these did?Ó I asked.
ÒYes,Ó Perply said. ÒI guess I got bored with the girls on T.V., even
though they are quite pretty. Plus, these are the newest girls, Joe. Those
girls in the Barbie ads were on last year too. These are the girls of the
year 2000!Ó
I examined the girls displayed on the wall. ÒSo what are you going
to do with them?Ó I asked Perply.
ÒI am going to pick one,Ó Perply told me. There was pride in his
voice. ÒAnd then she will be the official Sexiest Little Girl, in my Sexiest
Little Girl contest! Of the year 2000.Ó
ÒOh,Ó I said. I looked again at the girls. ÒIt doesnÕt seem fair, that
only you should vote,Ó I told Perply.
ÒWhat do you mean?Ó he asked me.
ÒWell, if she is really going to be the Sexiest Little Girl, of the
entire year, then other people should vote too. IÕll tell you what, Perply,Ó
I offered. ÒIÕll write up what each girl looks like, and where you found her
picture. Then all the guys on the internet can vote for her too.Ó
ÒGee, thanks, Joe,Ó Perply said. ÒBut what do you get out of this?Ó
ÒMaybe IÕll get to meet the girlÕs mother,Ó I said.
ÒHey, that would be swell!Ó Perply told me. ÒMaybe the winner will
e-mail me, and I can date her, and you can date her mother.Ó
ÒSure,Ó I agreed.
So, in hopes of getting off at Christmas, I hereby present, on behalf
of myself and Perply, the official, holy joe (and Perply):
SEXIEST LITTLE GIRL CONTEST
of the year 2000
Before I get to the actual contest, I want to assure you that I will
never let Perply go out with any little girls. This is just a plan to get me
laid, not him. IÕm just leading him along. In fact, there is a new phone
number for anyone who sees people doing suspicious things: ItÕs 1-800-
555-TELL.
With that out of the way, letÕs proceed with the contest. Remember,
only e-mail me if youÕre a woman who knows how to spread her legs wide,
and keep her mouth shut. IÕm a grown man whoÕs interested in meeting
grown women. IÕm a sexually mature, responsible, thoughtful, sensitive,
caring, macho guy who likes having things shoved up his ass, as long as
itÕs a woman doing it. (Or something like that...)
Offspring, The Magazine of Smart Parenting, December/January
2001, $2.95. http://www.offspringmag.com
Review: A gorgeous little child gazes out from the cover. She has
tousled blonde hair and a shy smile. The most striking thing about her are
her eyes. They are pale, like the sky behind her, and seem to have a kind of
glowing elfin quality to them. I was astonished by how gorgeous and cute
this girl looks. Like a little sprite, fresh out of ShakespeareÕs Midsummer
NightÕs Dream!
Color Gear Fashion Gear, about $5.00. Made exclusively for Target
stores by RoseArt. No web site listed.
Review: This is one of the items that Perply found in the toy section
of Target. You have to turn this over to see the three girls on the back of
it. The box says Ò8+Ó but I suppose this is an aspirational toy, since the
girls on the box look about 10 or 11. The Japanese girl on the right is
cute. (SheÕs the one who got Perply to pick up the box, being pictured all
by herself on the front of it.) But the one who really caught my attention,
on the back, is the one on the left. SheÕs a brunette, with big, glistening
blue eyes. SheÕs wearing a little too much lipstick but thatÕs her role, I
guess, to sell pretend lipstick and nail polish to little girls. She has long,
wavy brown hair, fashionably unkempt, as if sheÕs just been busy playing.
Besides her lovely broad smile, and her luminous eyes, and her perfect
face, one canÕt help but notice her body. God, what a perfect preteen bod!
It doesnÕt help someone like Perply that sheÕs wearing a diaphanous
blouse. And a lavender one at that, PerplyÕs favorite color. Beneath her
almost sheer blouse you can see the swell of her budding breasts. Further
down, hanging around her waist, is a belt of plastic purple flowers. But
oneÕs eyes quickly move to the graceful line of her back, where, beneath
her belted waist, out curves her small round bottom!
Whew! Excuse me for a minute while I go to the bathroom. I think
PerplyÕs perverted desires are starting to infect me. Either that or these
girls are just too damn cute! Why canÕt they be 50 instead of 10 ???!
Well, IÕm back. I took a cold shower after I used the toilet, but now
IÕm ready to go again. (Please, ladies, e-mail me before I turn into a
pervert, like my friend Perply!)
All About You! Summer 2000, $2.99. http://www.teenmag.com
Review: A blonde girl is on the cover. Once again, her hair is
slightly messy. SheÕs busy having summer fun. She has an utterly perfect
face. Well, not quite perfect. She has a sprinkling of freckles on her nose.
But you hardly notice them, theyÕre so pale, like her lovely white skin.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about this girl is again her eyes, or
perhaps not, itÕs hard to tell exactly how big they are. Bigger is better,
when it comes to eyes, in my opinion. (I mean, in PerplyÕs opinion.)
(This is starting to get to me again, looking at all these little girls.)
I call All About You the premier magazine for perverts. It used to be
monthly but I guess there werenÕt enough perverts buying it. So now it
only comes out on a quarterly basis. Come on, guys! Support this
magazine! It is the ONLY thing us perverts have to keep us happy. What
are you going to do if this magazine goes out of business, buy Penthouse?
Are you going to look at stupid adult women? There is no other
publication in America featuring, on a regular basis, lovely preteen girls.
Sure, there is Teen, and other magazines like it, with teenage girls in
them. But who wants to look at teen sluts when you can look at luscious
LITTLE girls instead?! Not really little girls. I admit, the girl on the
cover of Offspring is a little on the small side, but, you know, PREteen
girls. The best girls in the universe!
(Hmmmm.... IÕm not sure what IÕve been typing for the last few
minutes. Unfortunately IÕm posting this AS IÕm typing it, so I guess itÕs
too late for me to go back and change it....)
LetÕs see... whatÕs up next?
All About You! Winter 2001, $2.99. http://www.teenmag.com
Review: The Fall issue of All About You was junk. The girl on the
cover wasnÕt pretty. In fact, she looked like some PC girl. I notice that
sometimes girl-oriented magazines print girls that women enjoy seeing.
UNattractive girls. Thank God we are back on track with the Winter issue.
Admittedly, the girl on the cover of this issue looks a little bit like a
member of the boy band, Hanson. But she is a girl, and quite a pretty one
at that, and she looks swell in her snug winter cap and sweater. Once
again she has nice eyes, perfect skin, good lips. I love seeing her up on my
wall, gazing at me, as if sheÕs a real girl whoÕs come to visit! I must
admit, though, that my favorite cover so far this year of All About You is
the Summer issue. The girl on the Summer All About You is blowing on a
bubble-blower. ItÕs pink and blue, and looks remarkably like a pacifier.
That cover really got my gonads going!
But now it is Winter, and things are more sedate, I suppose. Still,
one can dream of this girl on the Winter issue out selling girl scout
cookies. Or caroling, in the cold air, and wishing to come inside my
apartment to get warm for a minute. (Or several minutes!)
(Someone is on T.V. claiming that people typing on the Internet are
having their brains controlled by aliens. I hope that never happens to me.
God knows what IÕd write if it were happening to me.)
Onward!
Newsweek, October 2, 2000, $3.50.
http://www.newsweek.msnbc.com
Review: Okay, okay, I admit this girl is, like the Offspring girl, a
little on the small side. Still, she does look cute, donÕt you think? The
cover reads, ÒWho will teach our kids?Ó What? Sex Ed? Sign me up! No,
IÕm just kidding. Like I said, IÕm only interested in Hillary Clinton.
Anyway, this girl is a blonde. She sits attentively at her desk,
gazing with childish soberness out at the viewer. (ThatÕs me, in case you
were wondering.) Unfortunately, my zipperÕs stuck, so I guess our lesson
will be delayed. I hope nobody comes in while IÕm giving it. God, what
sweet lips she has! To plunge myself into her, to violate her, to INSTRUCT
her... damn! Why would my zipper get stuck at a time like this?
Hmmm... I seem to have been typing in a daze. IÕm not sure what I
wrote. Hopefully it wasnÕt anything too embarrassing. Leave it to me to
try to meet grown, sophisticated women by posting PerplyÕs stupid Sexy
Little Girl contest on the internet. With my luck nobody will write to me
except a bunch of little girls, aspiring to be magazine models and
salesgirls for toys.
Do not post Ôme tooÕ posts in this newsgroup, saying which little girl
in this contest you like best. And please donÕt post your votes in any
feminist newsgroups either.
And now, for those long-suffering souls who just wanted a simple
story that they could get off to, I present:
- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
ICEBOUND
Chapter One
Of course, she didnÕt know the real reason, Melanie said to herself.
She did her best to hide a smile as she gazed into the older womanÕs eyes.
They were blue, like her own, but with a dark, flashing quality to them, a
kind of depth that Melanie, gazing at them with her own, paler, sky-blue
eyes, found menacing. It was like staring into twin sapphires, treasures
dug up from deep in the Antarctic wastes.
The wind howled outside. Melanie listened and shivered. She still
couldnÕt believe she was here, in Antarctica, at the Anglo-French Research
Station run by the famous Steve Dent and his wife Kara. The blonde
Swedish woman with the sapphire eyes repeated again what sheÕd said, to
make sure the young American heard it.
ÒThe Antarctic is very unforgiving,Ó Kara said. ÒOne mistake, and
itÕs over. Your life, I mean, not just your stay here. So even if you donÕt
quite understand, and there are many things you might not since youÕre
new here, itÕs important that you always obey.Ó The blonde brushed back a
lock of her hair that had spilled down from her otherwise prim bun. Her
more angular face gazed at MelanieÕs soft, round one. She smiled, to
soften her last remark. Melanie smiled back.
ÒYes,Ó Melanie said.
ÒVery good,Ó Kara replied. She turned. With a wave of her hand,
which was perfectly manicured, she waved at a rack of equipment. ÒThis
is the communications room,Ó she said. ÒItÕs our lifeline. Help is at least
three days away, by helicopter, and then only if the radioÕs working. Never
touch this equipment,Ó Kara said to Melanie. ÒIf it breaks, weÕre all done
for. SteveÕs had to jury-rig it a little, since the last shipment came in.
Hopefully some new stuff came with you... weÕll have to unpack the boxes
and see.Ó She smiled again, turning once more to Melanie. ÒSometimes
they say theyÕll send things and then donÕt, sending the wrong things, stuff
we already have, or donÕt really need.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Melanie said. She nodded. She wished only to seem compliant.
The radio room was the last thing on her mind.
ÒSteve doesnÕt really like me touching the comm equipment, to be
honest with you,Ó Kara continued, explaining some more when, in fact,
MelanieÕs mind had already drifted elsewhere. Steve! Steve Dent! She had
worked her tail off her Senior year in High School, when sheÕd learned of
the opportunity to be with him. SheÕd always been bright but in her junior
year sheÕd started to let things slip, started to party a little, when
suddenly in National Geographic, in the back, where they advertised the
index to a yearsÕ worth of issues, and the cardboard boxes to store them
in, sheÕd found the ad.
ÒINTERN needed,Ó the ad read. ÒStudy at the Anglo-French Antarctic
research station. Do important scientific research! Travel and all
necessary expenses paid. Open to college students.Ó
Melanie had first seen Steve Dent on PBS when she was 10. She
liked educational T.V., even though all her friends watched MTV. SheÕd
followed the handsome explorerÕs career ever since. Even though the ad
didnÕt mention him by name, she knew he was there, at the Anglo-French
station. She also knew his wife had died exploring with him only 9 months
ago, and heÕd since remarried, taking his lovely new bride back to
Antarctica with him.
And now Melanie was gazing at that new bride, in the radio room.
She was, frankly, feeling a bit intimidated by the woman, as the blonde
Swede bent down and fiddled with some radio knobs. ÒThe signal looks
good,Ó the blonde said, checking a needle that swung inside a glass dial.
ÒHopefully the incoming storm wonÕt knock down our antenna.Ó
ÒOh!Ó Melanie let out a slight gasp. The Swede, who had bent down
over the controls for the radio, stood up. ÒIs a storm coming?Ó Melanie
asked, aware again of the wind, howling out beyond the walls of the
station.Ó
ÒMmmhmm,Ó the Swede answered. Standing erect now, she turned
and checked some racked equipment along a wall. ÒStorm seasonÕs
coming,Ó Kara said. ÒWe were lucky to get you in.Ó She glanced at the
girl. ÒAnother week and you would have had to go back, without making
the final jump from the ship to our station.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Melanie said.
ÒYes,Ó Kara continued. ÒItÕs a long voyage. It would have been a pity
to lose you.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Melanie agreed. She remembered the ship. It was a scientific
research vessel, a freighter, really, jammed with lots of gear, like in this
radio room. There had been a ton of guys on board, only a few females.
SheÕd been popular and enjoyed herself but it had gotten annoying after
awhile, with so many guys hitting on her. They were pleasant about it but
it was obvious that she was young and pretty, the youngest and prettiest
in fact, and newly available, having just turned 18. They were without
female company, except for the handful of female scientists on board. It
was a ratio thing, Melanie guessed, in addition to her being a Òripe
cherry,Ó as sheÕd overheard one guy say. A dozen guys for every girl, and
the girls bent on keeping up their professional status, not giving in too
easily. And of course Melanie hadnÕt given in at all. SheÕd been, since age
10, saving herself for Steve.
ÒCÕmon. IÕll show you the room where we do experiments,Ó Kara said
to Melanie. She left the equipment sheÕd been studying, beckoning the girl
along with a wave of her arm. Melanie followed. They walked out of the
comm room and into a hall. The walls were wood, the floor wooden crates
laid end-to-end. Above them a wire was strung, running along one wall of
the hall, a bare light bulb hanging from the wire every 10 feet or so. It
was their source of light, this string of bulbs, looking like cheap Japanese
lanterns strung up without any decorative shades. They passed down along
the corridor, the boards creaking under their feet. Beneath them was
another layer of boards and then, below that, nothing but frozen snow. It
made Melanie shiver to think of it. The Antarctic ice cap was directly
below her and, somewhere below its frozen solidity, there was deep, cold
water. Like the Titanic had sunk in. Antarctic was a continent in its own
right, but the work Steve was doing here now necessitated his being in
this spot, and, unfortunately for one who wished to dwell on it, there was
no actual land down under the ice and snow lying under their feet. Melanie
shivered again, feeling the warmth of her boots on her feet and hearing the
wind.
ÒHere we are,Ó Kara announced. She turned and went through another
doorway, leaving the hall, Melanie quickly following. The young girl
stopped short as soon as sheÕd come through the doorway. There, amidst
the room carved out of the ice and lined with bare wooden walls, stood a
gleaming metal table. ÒThis is where we do our dissecting,Ó Kara said to
the girl. ÒSeals, otters.Ó She went forward to the table and picked up a
scalpel, lying close by the table on a metal surgical tray. ÒThe occasional
penguin,Ó Kara continued. She looked at the scalpel and replaced it on the
tray. ÒIÕll have to clean that,Ó she said absently. ÒSteve will kill me if he
finds me leaving dirty equipment lying around. I did a fish this morning,Ó
she said. Melanie saw a stain on the table, on white wax paper. ÒYouÕll
wind up here too, if you get injured,Ó Kara said to Melanie. ÒThis room
doubles as our medical ward.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Melanie answered. Kara picked up the scalpel again, and
walked to a jar of fluid. She opened the jar and dropped in the scalpel. It
made a plopping sound, landing in the fluid. Melanie smelled formaldehyde.
ÒLetÕs get something to eat,Ó Kara said to Melanie. She smiled. ÒYou
must be famished after your ride on SteveÕs chopper. It always makes me
digest whatever I have, being way up in the air like that, over everything.
My stomach just releases all this acid and itÕs like, whoom, everythingÕs
digested. Which is a lot better than throwing up, which is what I used to
do,Ó Kara laughed. Melanie let out a giggle. ÒBut you didnÕt get sick?Ó
Kara asked the blonde girl.
ÒNo,Ó Melanie answered.
ÒYouÕre lucky,Ó Kara said. ÒYou must be cut out to be a scientist
then. I think I spent too many years in the library, and lost my touch with
the outdoors.Ó
ÒWhat did you do your Phd. in?Ó Melanie asked, following the woman
out of the medical room and back into the hall.
ÒIÕm afraid I followed in the august footsteps of Dr. Kevorkian,Ó Kara
said. ÒI studied how organisms die. Also how they manage to cope with
pain,Ó she said.
ÒOh,Ó Melanie nodded, feeling intimidated again. The woman was no
slouch, when it came to scholarly research. SheÕd written an important
paper with a big long name that Melanie had tried to read, at the
University library near her high school. It had been published in Pathology
Quarterly, and then reprinted in two other journals, it had been so well-
received. As a result SteveÕs grant for his latest work had been doubled.
ÒI guess SteveÕs delighted to have your skills,Ó Melanie said to Kara,
walking along the hall with her.
ÒYes. We met two years ago, in the library in fact,Ó Kara said. ÒI
was bent over some book, and when I looked up, there he was. The famous
explorer!Ó
ÒHow romantic!Ó Melanie gushed.
ÒI couldnÕt believe it,Ó Kara said. ÒI recognized him immediately.Ó
ÒOf course,Ó Melanie agreed, enthusiastically. Together they walked
into a room with a refrigerator and a stove. Between the two was a sink.
Along one wall were some cabinets and, sitting here and there, large
unopened boxes.
ÒOur kitchen and supply room,Ó Kara said. ÒAs you can see, since
youÕve just come in with the latest load, it wonÕt all fit in our real supply
room. So find a seat among the boxes of dried beans and rice and try to
make yourself comfy.Ó Melanie pulled out a chair from a table, that sat
between two boxes. The chair was made of wood, but someone had made
the attempt to domesticate it by tying a small cushion onto the back of
the chair, which lay over the seat. Melanie sat down. The cushion felt
soft under her snowsuit-clad bottom. Kara opened the fridge and took out
a microwavable meal from the freezer part of the unit. ÒLetÕs see, do you
like roast beef?Ó Kara asked. She took out another meal, held both in her
hands. ÒOr ham?Ó She laughed. ÒAfter awhile, theyÕll both start to taste
the same, I assure you,Ó she said. ÒSo perhaps it doesnÕt really matter. I
prefer natural food myself, but thatÕs impossible to come by down here,
unless you want to take up a diet of fresh seals.Ó
ÒIÕll-- have whatever you have,Ó Melanie answered.
ÒAlright. Ham, then,Ó Kara said. She looked at the box. ÒHam and
mashed potatoes with not enough butter, so IÕll have to get out some of
that... some should have come in with you and Steve... and chocolate
pudding. IÕll see if they shipped us some fresh lettuce. Did you see Steve
unpack any?Ó she asked.
ÒI donÕt know. It was all just boxes,Ó Melanie answered.
ÒIÕll go check in the storage room.Ó She handed Melanie a meal.
ÒHere, find another ham dinner and put them in the microwave,Ó she said.
ÒThereÕs no harm in you operating that. Although,Ó she added, after a
momentÕs thought. ÒBe careful. If it breaks weÕll have just the stove.Ó
Melanie replaced the roast beef dinner in the freezer part of the
fridge. She dug around until she found a second ham dinner, and then
unwrapped both. She put one in the microwave, leaving the other on the
kitchen counter-top for the moment, since both meals wouldnÕt fit into
the stove at once. She smiled, to herself. It was so fun being in the
Antarctic! The accommodations werenÕt the best but SteveÕs presence
more than made up for it. And Kara seemed nice. If she could get along
with her, she was sure she and Steve would have a wonderful two months
together down under!
The wind was raging outside as Kara watched Steve lead the young
student down the hall. The storm had come in early, bringing Steve in
with it. It had been too cold for him to stay in the maintenance room,
down at the end of the compound. Here it was warmer, in the living
quarters, although they all still stayed bundled up in insulated snow pants
and boots. Kara watched MelanieÕs bottom move in the thin, insulated
pants as she walked down the hall. It was high and firm. The twin cheeks
juddered as she walked, with seeming impudence. Kara felt a sudden
quickening of her heart. The girlÕs ass was as pretty as the rest of her;
prettier even, just as sheÕd imagined it might be. A young high school
girlÕs bum, saucy and ripe for pleasure, still untested.
Kara smiled. Yes, she knew Melanie was a virgin. She could guess it
from the way she moved, what sheÕd said about the men on the ship. She
gazed at the girlÕs trim young figure, listened, above the wind, to her
excited comments to Steve. Her hand brushed the explorerÕs. Her fingers
reached out, then drew back, too shy to let her feelings be known... yet.
Oh, if the girl only knew! Kara had no interest in Steve. She had
married him only to advance her career. Yes, he was handsome. But
handsome men were commonplace to her. She had always been remarkably,
even astoundingly beautiful, with her sapphire eyes and her long Swedish
blonde hair. Perhaps that was why sheÕd been content to ensconce herself
in libraries for so many years. She had only to get up from her books and
there was always some man waiting for her. Even Steve Dent, famous
explorer, as it turned out. But men, and their passions, held little interest
for her. It was useful, perhaps, to have SteveÕs living organ to play with,
instead of a piece of plastic. But it was girls that had always interested
her! She loved their bright, curious eyes, their warm snatches, their young
growing bosoms. Ever since childhood she had had a series of intimate
girlfriends. Some willing, some not-so-willing, surprised when sheÕd
persuaded them out of their clothes and embarrassed afterwards, by the
dark secrets sheÕd shared with them. Steve had wanted a mature
scientist, like herself, to join them at the station. But Kara had been
enthralled by Melanie ever since sheÕd set eyes on the photo the girl sent
in, along with her application. Her pale, lovely eyes, blue as the Antarctic
sky on a storm-free day. Her innocent gaze, her warm bright cheeks, her
perfect rosebud lips. Kara wanted this girl, and wanted her very badly.
She hoped Steve wanted her too. Surely he must. Kara watched how Steve
responded to the girl, watched him all the way until he, with her in tow,
rounded a corner in the hall.
ÒItÕs nice that itÕs warmer now,Ó Melanie said the next day at
breakfast. Kara nodded.
ÒSteve got the second generator going,Ó she said. She dug into a
microwaved batch of eggs.
ÒIÕll cook some fresh ones for you if youÕll let me,Ó Melanie said,
looking up from the stove, where she was just about to crack an egg and
put it in a skillet.
ÒNo, IÕve got to get outside this morning, before another storm
comes in,Ó Kara said. ÒThereÕs some observations I have to do.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Melanie said. ÒBut it would only take a moment.Ó
ÒI donÕt have a moment,Ó Kara said. She wolfed down the eggs on her
aluminum tray, as Steve walked into the room.
ÒSteve!Ó Melanie gushed. Kara caught the note of excitement in the
girlÕs voice. Without looking up, she smiled inwardly to herself. The girl
no doubt saw herself having Steve all to herself at breakfast. It would be
a romantic meal, Steve and his young apprentice, with Kara out of the way.
But the Swedish woman didnÕt mind. The sooner one or both of them got
the girl out of her snowsuit, the sooner she herself might have fun with
her. In fact, she was going out early for just that purpose... in hopes that
Steve would get things going with Melanie while she was away.
ÒMmmm. Something smells wonderful,Ó Steve said. He bent over the
stove, next to Melanie.
ÒFresh eggs,Ó Melanie said brightly. She cracked a second egg,
plopped its yellow-white contents into the skillet. ÒWant one? Kara says
itÕs been months since youÕve had any.Ó
ÒSure,Ó Steve said. He leaned closer to the girl. He nudged her long
blonde hair with his nose. ÒBut I smell something else,Ó he said.
ÒOh, thatÕs my newest perfume,Ó Melanie blushed. ÒI saved it just
for you. ItÕs very expensive.Ó
ÒIt smells expensive,Ó Steve said.
ÒItÕs from France. I bought it before I got on the ship,Ó Melanie said.
She shook her head. ÒGod, if IÕd worn it on that ship IÕd be pregnant by
now!Ó
ÒIÕll bet you would!Ó Steve laughed. He drew away from her, but
continued to admire her as he found a chair amidst the boxes scattered in
the kitchen. He sat down. ÒMorning, honey,Ó he said to Kara.
ÒMorning,Ó Kara said over a mouthful of eggs. ÒGoing out.Ó
ÒSo soon?Ó Steve asked. Kara nodded. She swallowed.
ÒAnother stormÕs predicted for this afternoon, according to the
weather report. With our luck it will probably arrive early, like
yesterdayÕs did.Ó Steve looked down at the table.
ÒHmmm,Ó he agreed. ÒThank God we got Melanie and all the supplies
in yesterday. Last nightÕs was a real howler.Ó
ÒThank God you got that second generator up and running again,Ó Kara
said.
ÒIt wasnÕt easy,Ó Steve grunted. ÒCareful with the radio. They
didnÕt send us the parts.Ó KaraÕs head bolted up.
ÒYouÕre kidding,Ó she said.
ÒNo, IÕm not,Ó Steve said. He shook his head. ÒFucking morons.Ó
ÒTheyÕre trying to drive you back to the main station,Ó Kara said.
ÒThey donÕt like you being way out here.Ó
ÒI canÕt get anything done there,Ó Steve said. ÒGod, that Norton! He
runs the place like itÕs his personal property. IÕll put up with a bad radio
and a fiddly generator if itÕll keep me away from him.Ó
ÒHeÕs jealous of you,Ó Kara said.
ÒDonÕt I know it!Ó Steve said.
ÒEggs are ready,Ó Melanie called from the stove.
ÒSheÕs proving her worth already,Ó Steve said to Kara. The Swedish
woman nodded.
ÒSheÕll be very valuable to us, I think. I told her not to fool with the
comm stuff.Ó
ÒGood,Ó Steve said. He watched with admiring eyes as Melanie came
over to him, having put both eggs for him on a plate. The girl was almost
prancing, he noticed, very proud to be serving him. ÒThanks,Ó Steve said,
as Melanie put down the plate before him.
ÒIÕll get some sausage and coffee for you too,Ó Melanie offered.
ÒOkay,Ó Steve said. ÒBut donÕt forget yourself. I donÕt want you
starving while IÕm pigging out.Ó Melanie paused. She ran her hands down
her sides. She was wearing a checked flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of
jeans. This morning she wore moccasins, not boots, and the top button of
her shirt was unbuttoned.
ÒDo you think IÕm skinny?Ó Melanie asked. Steve sliced into his eggs,
eagerly, while looking up at the girl.
ÒNo, youÕre perfect,Ó Steve said. He stabbed his eggs with a fork.
ÒAnd if you donÕt mind my saying, youÕve got the cutest ass in Antarctica.Ó
Melanie blushed, fiercely. And then, awkwardly, she turned, to go back to
the stove. Steve eyed her bottom. It was as full and prominent as her
lovely young breasts, a bit smaller perhaps, as if all the fat on her slender
young form had gone into her tits first, filling out her ass only when her
treasures in front were done. God! What a beauty she was! Melanie felt
SteveÕs eyes on her butt. She gave it a wiggle, girlishly, not sure how to
flaunt it but wanting to, still innocent.
ÒSteve!Ó Kara scolded.
ÒI hope you donÕt accuse me of sexual harassment for saying that,Ó
Steve apologized, still staring after Melanie.
ÒNo. Not at all,Ó the young girl answered. She opened the fridge, the
freezer section, managing to jiggle her behind again as she rummaged
through the boxes there.
ÒI mean, you know, it would be a terrible way to begin our
relationship,Ó Steve continued. Kara, finished with her eggs, got up from
the table.
ÒIÕm sure she takes it in the manner it was intended,Ó Kara said. She
gave Steve a grin, not entirely knowing, but not without a hint of
conspiracy. Now it was SteveÕs turn to blush, as he realized his wife
didnÕt seem to mind his admiration of their new guest. ÒBoys will be
boys,Ó Kara added.
ÒYes, I guess so,Ó Steve agreed, his blush deepening. Melanie, still
blushing herself, called out in a loud voice,
ÒFound it!Ó as she pulled a carton of frozen sausages out of the
freezer. Kara took a quick drink of coffee from a cup by her empty plate.
ÒYou two have fun,Ó Kara said. ÒIÕll be back in a little while.Ó
ÒBye,Ó Melanie said, to KaraÕs back as the woman walked from the
room.
ÒBye,Ó Steve chimed, but his eyes were on Melanie.
ÒSo you like my bottom,Ó Melanie said, a little while later, sitting at
the table with Steve. They were just finishing up breakfast. It had been a
glorious affair, with fresh eggs and sausage and toast, and jelly and
butter, coffee and ham and pancakes, topped off with hot chocolate with
whipped cream.
ÒYes. And I love your cooking,Ó Steve said. He grinned at her. ÒThat
was quite a storm you cooked up. But youÕve barely touched yours.Ó
ÒIÕm not really hungry,Ó Melanie said. She looked nervously at her
plate. She put her hand to her belly. The excitement of serving Steve was
giving her butterflies. It was just herself and Steve here in the kitchen,
with Kara gone, her and her true love, and now he was quite pleased with
her!
ÒI suppose you were popular in high school,Ó Steve said to the girl.
ÒNot TOO popular,Ó Melanie answered, hoping Steve caught her
meaning. He did. He blushed once more.
ÒThatÕs... not what I meant,Ó Steve said. ÒSorry.Ó
ÒItÕs okay,Ó Melanie said brightly. ÒSo what are you working on?Ó
ÒIÕm doing studies of the magnetic pole,Ó Steve said. ÒKaraÕs
working on how it affects AntarcticaÕs fish and wildlife.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Melanie said. ÒI hear the magnetic pole flips around every so
often.Ó
ÒThatÕs right,Ó Steve said. ÒEvery so many thousand years.Ó His
blush disappeared. He explained his work to her. Melanie listened, loving
every word of it, every movement of his lips, every breath. When at last
he was done telling her all about it her eggs were quite inedibly cold.
Melanie sat in the comm room. Kara had been out all day, and Steve,
despite MelanieÕs wishes that he stay inside with her, had gone out too.
Boredom had brought her into this room. Steve had given her some
calculations to do, in the makeshift room that served as a library, but
sheÕd tired of them. Melanie put her hand to one of the comm dials. She
sighed. It was annoying being all by herself. She wanted to be with Steve!
Instead she was sitting alone in the compound, given homework to do,
dumb math calculations, while he and his lovely wife were off somewhere
outside. Melanie sighed again. Well, at least they werenÕt together out
there. At least, she didnÕt think they were. She frowned to herself. They
were husband and wife, how silly it was for her to hope they werenÕt
together! But Kara had left first, to catch more seals for dissecting or
whatever exactly it was she did. And Steve had left later, to do his
measurements of the earthÕs magnetosphere. Melanie had wanted to go
with him but heÕd echoed his wifeÕs earlier concern, at the breakfast
table, that the incoming storm might arrive early.
ÒI couldnÕt ever forgive myself if I got my new intern killed on her
first day at the station,Ó Steve said. ÒIÕve got to go some ways out and it
may be awhile before I get back.Ó
ÒOh, Steve!Ó Melanie had pleaded.
ÒNo,Ó Steve had answered. ÒKara will probably get back before I do.
I donÕt want you getting caught out there with me.Ó
ÒNot even with my ass?Ó Melanie had teased, awkwardly, hoping still
to induce him to stay indoors.
ÒNo, and IÕm sorry I made such a sexual comment,Ó Steve said.
ÒYouÕre forgiven,Ó Melanie said. She looked at him hopefully. ÒSo
can I come with you?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Steve said. He stood awkwardly for a moment, standing over
her as she sat at the table, hesitating, as if he wanted to bend down and
give her a kiss. Then he turned away. ÒNo,Ó he said again. ÒAntarctica is
a dangerous place.Ó He looked over his shoulder at her. ÒYou have such a
pretty face,Ó he said. He glanced down at her breasts, bulging within her
checked shirt. ÒIf IÕd known how pretty the rest of you was IÕd never have
let you come down here.Ó
ÒOh, Steve!Ó Melanie said, pouting. ÒNow I am angry!Ó
ÒDo the calculations I told you about,Ó Steve said. ÒYouÕll find them
on my desk in the library. ItÕs not the greatest work but your letter said
youÕre good in math. It will help me a lot.Ó Melanie brightened.
ÒAlright. If it will help you,Ó Melanie agreed.
But now she was sitting in the comm room, wondering absently if
she could get PBS on the dial. Or perhaps MTV, or the BBC? She played
with a knob. Needles jumped. A voice came from a speaker and Melanie
gave a start. And then, after listening awhile, to her horror she realized
she couldnÕt figure out how to turn the equipment off.
Kara gazed at Melanie. The girl looked at her plate. They were
seated around the table, amidst the boxes in the kitchen, eating dinner, the
three of them, Steve and Kara and Melanie. Steve and his wife were fresh
from the shower, after a hard dayÕs hiking. Melanie tried to keep her eyes
on her plate but Kara, speaking her name, induced her to look up.
ÒWhat you did today was very bad,Ó Kara said to Melanie.
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó Melanie said. She gulped. Nothing had been said since
the husband and wife had come in together, and found her frantically
trying to get the comm equipment turned off.
ÒIt came on by itself,Ó Melanie said weakly.
ÒStill, that gave you no reason to touch it,Ó Steve said. ÒYou could
have completely cut off our communications.Ó
ÒI know,Ó Melanie said.
ÒWe canÕt keep you here if youÕre going to disobey,Ó Kara said. Tears
sprang to MelanieÕs eyes. Quickly Steve interrupted.
ÒItÕs not come to that,Ó Steve said.
ÒAlthough it out to,Ó Kara corrected.
ÒThe South Pole is a deadly, unforgiving place,Ó Steve said to
Melanie. ÒYou can learn to live here, sure. I love this place. But IÕm also
aware of the dangers I face.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Melanie agreed, still looking at her plate.
ÒI think we can settle this,Ó Kara said. She looked at her husband.
He gave her a hopeful, if puzzled look.
ÒI suppose we could ground her,Ó Steve said. ÒExcept in here is all
our important gear, and out there itÕs a matter of life and death. If she
wonÕt do as sheÕs told, neither place is safe.Ó
ÒOh, itÕs much simpler than that,Ó Kara said. She watched as the girl
blushed, peeping up from her plate a little, then looking quickly back down.
ÒWhat do you suggest, that we lock in her in her room when we go
out?Ó Steve asked.
ÒNo,Ó Kara said. She gazed at the girl, at her cheeks, visibly red on
her bent-down head. ÒI think we should discipline her the old fashioned
way. SheÕs only a high school girl. I think we should give her a spanking.Ó
MelanieÕs head jerked upright. She looked at her hosts, first at Kara,
then to Steve, then back to Kara again.
ÒThatÕs....Ó
ÒNot a bad suggestion,Ó Steve said. Melanie, already blushing,
changed to the color of bricks.
ÒWe canÕt force you, of course,Ó Kara said to the girl. ÒWe can force
you to leave, however. So the choice is up to you. You can stay, if youÕll
take a bit of medicine for your misbehavior. Or you can pack your things.
The ship you came on leaves tomorrow. Steve could just get you there in
time to get you out of here.Ó
ÒI--Ó Melanie gulped.
ÒThatÕs a terrible thing to suggest,Ó Steve said to his wife. But
there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
ÒI donÕt want to leave for ANYTHING!Ó Melanie said.
ÒThen are you willing to be spanked?Ó Kara asked. Melanie
swallowed again, harder, her slim neck making her bosoms bounce under
her flannel shirt.
ÒWould I have to have it... on my bare bottom?Ó Melanie inquired.
ÒYes. Of course. It would hardly hurt with your jeans on,Ó Kara
answered. Steve, still looking bemused, shifted in his seat. Immediately
Melanie guessed the reason. He was becoming aroused! He blushed,
knowing that she knew, and she blushed even more in response. Only Kara,
staring unflinchingly at Melanie, remained pale, her mouth set, her eyes
gleaming.
MelanieÕs fingers interlaced in her lap. She felt a rising excitement.
She was becoming wet... it was embarrassing to think of it as she sat here
with Kara and Steve. The man shifted again in his chair. Melanie felt a
whole flight of butterflies rise in her stomach.
ÒIf... if it doesnÕt hurt TOO much,Ó Melanie said cautiously.
ÒYouÕre a silly thing if you think itÕs not going to hurt,Ó Kara said to
the girl. ÒIt wonÕt be with my hand. It will be delivered with a whip.Ó
Melanie looked at Kara, startled. Even Steve was startled.
ÒHoney,Ó Steve began. But Kara gave him an angry glance.
ÒIf you think IÕm going to let this little tart enjoy herself by letting
you have at her, forget it,Ó Kara snapped. ÒSheÕll feel it from me, with a
whip, or she may as well pack up and go home.Ó
ÒNO, I donÕt want to go home!Ó Melanie pleaded.
ÒThen finish your dinner,Ó Kara said. ÒWeÕll be here all night the
way you pick at your food. Finish, and then weÕll go to our room.Ó By this,
Melanie guessed she meant the bedroom Kara shared with Steve. The high
school student gulped. She was getting just what she wanted, to inveigle
herself into SteveÕs bedroom. But unfortunately his wife was coming too!
With a whip!
30
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