Andrew Roller Presents THERE AND NOT BACK AGAIN You do crazy things when you're in high school. Of course, I hadn't always been in high school. I'd ruled the world once, and been quite ruthless at it too. And then I'd gotten old. "Man's fate," they called it. Except I was a female. "All my possessions for just a moment more," Queen Victoria said on her deathbed. She lost both. I was luckier. There was a new technology out, "Mind Meld." Put your brain on a hard disk. Die. Get a new body and download your mind into it. I made the arrangements. Copied my brain into Earth's central computer. Made a back-up copy, just in case. Kept continually uploading my latest thoughts as they occurred, right 'til the moment of death. And then I waited. When I awoke I was in the body of a young girl. I'd waited a long time, though I didn't know it then. Death had been blackness, an utter void. Like anesthesia during surgery. You wake up and ask when they're going to start the operation. They tell you it's already over. You did fine. Except nobody was there to tell me that. They'd gone on without me, the bastards. A man had become Emperor of the Earth in my place. And then, well, I knew it would happen. They managed to blow themselves up. Centuries passed. Earth was a cinder, little more. But there were other universes, other Earths. Heisenberg, you know. A girl slipped through from one of them. In her world the scientific tradition of the ancient Ionians had not ended with Plato recommending the burning of their books. She was but 15, yet her scientific games did not consist of building a crystal radio or playing with a chemistry set. She slipped through universes to alternate worlds. Her name was Mandy. She brought her cat, Tabitha. Together they set about exploring me. Well, they didn't know it was me. It was Earth's central computer, quite aged and decrepit now. And less powerful than the PC Mandy played with at home. I was fixed up, rewired, all in the name of play, not science. And did you know, dear reader, that I've lied to you? Don't be mad at me. I figured it would help you understand, that's all. You see, I didn't wake up inside the girl. Oh, no. I woke up inside the computer. And I wanted out. Mandy woke me. I found her playing with me. (With the computer, you know, except that I was all that was left of the computer's mind. Me and about 10 trillion useless facts and figures.) It took me awhile to figure out what was going on. Mandy left, came back another day. Left and came back several times, in fact. Whenever she had some free time and nothing better to do. I hadn't risen to Empress of Earth for nothing, you know. I'd been much more of a bitch than, say, Hillary Clinton. More on the level of Ghengis Khan. Mandy had what I wanted, pure and simple. A body, and a young one at that. I guess I decided to play the ultimate child molester, and I have no regrets. I lured her into sitting down with me, into getting wired up with me. "The better to know you, my dear," I told her. She was scientifically smart but, otherwise, no match for an Empress. I invaded her mind and wiped it clean. I replaced it with my own. Well, as you can imagine, cats don't match men for company. And Tabitha knew, in a catlike way, that I'd done something to her Mandy. I was stuck on a dead Earth, and my only way "back" to Mandy's home had been erased along with her mind. Stuck on a dead planet with a cat that hated me. Not a great life. But a step up from being imprisoned inside a failing computer. For awhile, anyway. For about, well, 9 1/2 years, to be exact. Tabitha grew old, but she still hated me. I grew older. And I got very frustrated and very bored. I'd stare out of the perimeter viewfinder at what was left of Earth. It looked like it had been hit by a meteor shower. I couldn't go out, the radiation, even after all this time, was still too bad. I was trapped in a slightly larger space than the computer itself had comprised. I could sit, I could replicate food and eat it, and clean water came from somewhere, through a filter or something. And my shit went out to join the other radioactive waste, through the toilet. At last I decided I was better off where I'd been. The place needed a few modifications, that was all. I spiffed up the computer and created an old-time version of Earth inside it. An Earth like the twentieth century Earth. With cotton candy and Duran Duran and girls who talked for hours on the phone, about nothing at all. Myst writ large. And then I stepped into my world. But I wasn't there to take over the place. After all, I'd created it. I was its God. No, I wanted to be the girl I'd never been. Not the girl in the ruins between the first global nuclear war and the second. Not the girl who'd killed to survive and outwitted bandits. I wanted to be an inguene. Carefree, silly, frivolous. A twentieth century girl. American, post-modern, Happy Days happy. And to do that I'd have to erase my own mind as thoroughly as I'd erased Mandy's. Are you reading this? I'm gone now, you know. Well, I'm somewhere inside the computer, actually. I've programmed it to write out my life for me, as it happens. Of course, I'll think I'm really living it. A real girl in a real world. I don't know what has happened to me in there, but the computer will make a record. Yes, you'll see a corpse by the computer. You see, without a mind to feed it, to take care of it, Mandy's body died. It lay there, lobotomized, until her cat found it smelling rather....tasty. Oh yes, I know, it sounds cruel, stealing a girl's body from her and then letting it die. But I was lonely. I wanted company. And the real Earth, the one outside the computer, could never give me that. Not, at least, until you came along. But maybe you never did. For all I know, no one will ever read this. Or, if they do, perhaps it will be a million years from now...however long this computer will last. You do crazy things when you're in high school. One day in gym class, sitting there in our little shorts and tees on the bleachers, a magazine got passed around. Swingers, it was called. Furtively, laughingly, it was passed from girl to girl as we waited for our instructor, Ms. Lafrump, to arrive. When she did come in the magazine was in the hands of my friend Janet, and she hastily stuffed it into my gym bag. I had forgotten I even had the magazine when I sat unpacking my gym bag that evening, plopped on my bed in my nightshirt, about to turn in. Suddenly, there it was, Swingers. The child in me reached out to drop it disdainfully into my Mickey Mouse wastebasket. But then, inexplicably, I drew it back. It was the teenager, the woman developing within me that pulled it back, I know now. I opened the magazine. I flipped through it with a mixture of awe and disgust. I'd never seen anything like this before, never wanted to. There were amateur photos of scantily dressed partiers, articles on swinger etiquette, part one of something excerpted from a book by someone named the Marquis de Sade. And then I came upon an ad page, the personals. One in particular struck my eye: FEMALE OR SELECT couple. Let's play." There was an address, no name. On a lark I fetched my notepad and responded to their ad. I mailed it the next day, never thinking they'd write back. I used a fake name, of course. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was playing the role of female detective, going undercover to break up a ring of criminal sexual conspirators. At least the child in me was, the 9-year-old nymph who was as sure of herself and her place in the world as a lizard sunning on a rock. Little did I know that a kind of schizophrenia was developing within me. There was a sexy young lady taking over my body, flowering, choking out the impish little girl as one might a weed. To my shock they wrote back. Inside their letter was their photograph. The woman was young, in her 20's. The man, like some tuxedoed stud right out of my favorite soap opera, was gorgeous, in his 40's. Successful in appearance, athletic, rugged, with a gleam in his handsome eye that showed he got what he wanted in life. I was in love with him from the moment I laid eyes on the photo. At least the woman in me was. The little girl in me seemed to have suddenly taken a vacation. Perhaps she was in the Mickey Mouse wastebasket. I knew I must meet them, somehow. Against my better judgement. Surely nothing would come of this, I reassured myself. I wrote out a response and mailed it. Surely nothing. And then it came. Another letter, another photo, them with their dog, Atlas. Charming. They had a cute dog. It broke down my resistance. Made them human, approachable. I wrote back, agreeing to meet them the following Wednesday at the Chez L'Appraisal, a French restaurant in town. Now all I had to do was figure out how to get there. I settled on a cab, finally, as the best way. I told my mother on the way out of the house that I was going to the library. Well, I knew I'd be learning something this afternoon, so it's not like it was a total lie. First hand knowledge is always better than second hand knowledge, right? I thought the couple would dismiss me out-of-hand as soon as they found out how young I was. But they treated me very politely. I sat across from them at a little table, hardly ever taking my eyes off the man, Robert. His wife, Juliette, eventually dropped the small talk and asked me a series of questions about my sexuality. (We were in a private booth.) I made up some answers and they listened attentively, seriously. In fact I'd ever only had one boyfriend, and our relationship hadn't lasted much beyond his popping of my cherry. Dinner ended with them inviting me to stay at their place the following weekend. I could hardly believe my ears. Was this mature, sexually experienced couple really asking me, a naive high school sophomore, to join them? They said they had just built a new Jacuzzi, a really plush one with inlaid tiles and hanging plants and stained glass, and wanted someone to enjoy it with them. What could I say? The woman in me was not about to pass up a chance to get to know Robert better, and I accepted, even as the little girl in me began looking for a way not to go. A sleepover served as the perfect excuse that got me out of the house Friday evening. This was a special, "cram 'til you drop" study session sleepover, I explained to my parents, knowing that would keep them from calling. I wasn't sure yet, I said, whose house it would be at, as I rushed out the door. Only later would I realize I'd forgotten my Little Mermaid nightshirt, my de rigueur costume on all my previous overnighters. Well, I was growing up, right? But I worried that, seeing it hanging on the back of my bedroom door, my mother would become suspicious. A stranger shadowed me at the park. Some guy in his 30's, obvious nerd, probably wrote porno novels or something for a living. Thankfully my hosts showed up in their car (a Lamborghini!) and whisked me out of the pervert's view. We chatted gaily on the ride over to their place, about nothing in particular, soon arriving in a plush suburb, lined with leafy trees and with 24-hour security to warn away burglars and child molesters. Inside I was given a place to put my things, a small armoire in the dayroom. Then I drifted out to the kitchen and we shared a snack of wine and cheese and little sandwiches. Bob popped a romantic spy thriller into their VHS and we sat watching awhile. I grew restless and went to the kitchen for something else to eat. Juliette joined me and suggested I might want to check out their spa on my own, to see if I liked it. They'd shown me around their house a bit but a phone call for Bob had interrupted the tour before I got to see the spa. I told Juliette I'd go check it out now. I was glad she was letting me have a look at it myself. It was hard to believe we might do anything more than just talk and be friends. Even the little girl inside me had slipped into cruise control. The spa took my breath away. It was bathed in the light of a rising moon that shafted its rays through stained glass windows. Half the spa was enclosed by three walls. The remainder was outdoors, under the stars. A folding screen could be drawn across to close off the inside portion. Tropical plants hung about, dripping with exotic flowers in full bloom. In a wooden bowl fresh oranges and pears waited. Three towels were piled neatly on a carved hardwood bench next to the spa. I found a switch and flipped it and the Jacuzzi bubbled to life. I gazed at the luxurious tile-lined tub awhile, mesmerized. This was a far cry from some 16-year-old's slumber party. Slowly I undressed, intending to keep on my bra and panties, then just my panties, finally finding that I'd stripped nude. Thoughtfully I drew a bow from my discarded blouse and tied up my loose hair in back, to keep it above my shoulders. With a hesitant step, the little girl in me screaming but well-gagged, I stepped into the spa. I waded across it, savoring the feel of the silky water along my calves. This was heaven. I picked up a little brass pitcher, examined it. A century must have passed since it was made. It intrigued me. We'd been making pitchers and vases with clay in art class. I dipped it into the bubbling spa water, filling it. Just then the door to the spa opened. I turned, utterly innocent, not even remembering that I was in a house with other people in it, that belonged to someone else. Juliette stepped in, followed by Bob. They faced me. I was in a corner of the spa and I lifted a knee up, resting it on the side of the tub, as if to get out, as if caught in a swimming pool for "residents only" where I didn't live. Then they smiled. Bob smiled, broadly, reassuringly. I still had the brass pitcher in my hand and instinctively I lifted it and poured its contents out slowly over my breasts. I gasped slightly as the hot water hit them, then smiled, almost blushing. Both Bob and Juliette were still clothed in the elegant, casual attire they'd met me in. Bob sat down on the bench next to the spa. He ordered me to get out and come over to him. Wetly I rose and, with Juliette lightly taking me by the arm, padded the three steps to where he sat. Mincing steps, small and dainty as the bow in my hair. As if being called to sit on the knee of an uncle. Except Bob wanted me over his knee, and promptly had me lying dripping on my bare stomach across his thighs. My still dry bottom wobbled, soft cheeks upturned, under his possessive gaze. SPLAT! Robert's palm came down juicily on my naked tushy, making me yelp. Neither the woman nor the little girl knew what was going on now, but I felt my clitty harden. SPLAT! Another butt-reddening blow, and I shivered. Robert savored my ass cheeks a moment, watching them blush, then spanked me three more times. In a mirror I hadn't noticed before I caught sight of Juliette undressing. She shed her top and skirt to reveal the body of a sex magazine pin-up. Robert lifted his hand then and, bare-breasted, she leaned forward and kissed the peak of each of my quivering ass cheeks. Her stiffening nipples brushed the backs of my thighs. Robert let me stand then, and I did, briskly rubbing my hiney. He told me to go over to a small cabinet and come back with what was in the top drawer. I knew not what else to do, he was clothed and I was naked, he was huge and muscular and I was frail, with my only large asset being my breasts. I padded over to the cabinet, found to my surprise a strange stick-like thing there. I'd seen it somewhere before. It had a loop of leather at one end. It reminded me of riding class, horsey lessons when I was 10-years-old. Wasn't it called, like, a "riding crop?" What was it doing here? Bob and Juliette didn't own any horses. I trotted back to Robert, holding the crop up stiffly. I let its loop touch my lips as I wondered at its purpose. My tongue tasted the leather loop idly, as if by taste I would divine its purpose. Robert took the crop from my small hand and said I was a good girl. He said their bed would be the most comfortable place to try out our new toy, that we could jump in the spa afterward. He led me nakedly, still wet in front, from the room before I could even think of a word of protest. Juliette followed with sensuous footsteps. As I caught sight of their big brass bed I suddenly felt recalcitrant. But Robert was strong and had me kneed up onto it before I could even mount a resistance. Juliette drew out my hands and tied my wrists with silk stockings to the brass-poled headboard. She worked swiftly, as if having tied countless girls before me. A gag was slipped over my mouth then, just as I was about to ask what was going to happen to me. SWAACK! The crop bit into my bare hiney and I leapt like a fish. I was kneeling, utterly naked, upon the crisp white sheets, with my legs unbound. I skittered about on the bed, lifting first one knee awkwardly and then the other, as if to waggle my stung tushy all through the cooling air of the room. Fearfully I looked over my shoulder at Robert as he prepared to give me another stroke. SWAACK! Again I jumped, ass flailing, tugging futilely at the bonds which held my wrists. SWAAK! SWAAK! SWAAK! Tears welled in my eyes as I suffered under a rain of rapid blows. I must have looked like an unbroken colt in a rodeo to Bob and Juliette as I bucked upon the bed. Just as quickly they now untied me, and Juliette drew me out upon the bed and lay against me, snuggling. I felt her breasts squish against mine and the thorns of her nipples stung my mammaries, my stiff teats poking back at her bubbies. Her pussy curls interlaced sweetly with mine. We rubbed against each other. Her hands cupped my hot bottom and she said admiringly to Robert how wonderfully warm I felt back there. She kissed me, mouth open, and I responded unthinkingly. Our tongues extended, met, probed each other's oral orifice, licking the teeth and reaching for the tonsils. Robert undressed and got in bed behind me. He could not snuggle so easily for his big prick was in the way. Carefully, after bumping my ass with it, he wedged it between the tops of my squeezing thighs. He was so long he actually lodged his head twixt Juliette's legs. I cooed at this marvelous intruder's appearance on the scene. Even the little girl in me was not protesting now. I forgot my tears in the loving entanglement of our bodies. A warm glow began to suffuse my nether cheeks and I wriggled them against Robert's rough-skinned, hairy stomach. Robert luxuriated against me awhile, then pulled his manhood from between my possessive legs and separated the cheeks of my ass. I gasped as he did this, and a moment later had my suspicions confirmed as he introduced the slit on the tip of his penis to my anus. My anal dimple. Pre-cum oozed from him to anoint my nether hole. Teasingly he pushed at me, testing my tightness. Juliette helpfully lifted one of my legs up into the air, spreading me behind. Robert pushed harder, pre-cum oiling his intended route. My sphincter held valiantly, not admitting him at all. He complimented my tightness. "Let us to the spa then," Juliette suggested hopefully, realizing Bob would never last if he got himself up inside my virginal ass. Reluctantly Bob agreed and we rose nakedly from the bed, his manhood still throbbingly intact. We would enjoy such a remarkable companion in the spa, I guessed then, soaping it and yanking on it and being teasingly prodded by it as we soaked in the bubbles. There was no use firing it off early, when it could be such a source of fun and delight. I knew then that Juliette was not a lesbian, and was as mesmerized as I was at being continually threatened by an intrusive male penis. Hand in hand we strolled with our big, hard companion pointing the way. We slithered into the spa and soon found ourselves on either side of Robert. He poured wine into glasses for us, sitting between us, and we poured the wine into his mouth, then had him do the same for us. We fed each other the fruit. It was delicious, better than any fruit I'd ever tasted. I wondered if it wasn't just the way I was feeling, suddenly so adult, so mature, not a girl in a Little Mermaid nightie anymore. Even my bottom felt good. For a long time we splashed and touched and kissed, savoring every inch of each other's bodies. My tits were weighed by both Juliette and Robert, my legs pulled apart, my cunt fondled. For my part I gave Robert's balls an exacting inspection, feeling them beneath the water and then making him sit on the edge of the spa. I rubbed his penis against my cheek, like a dog admiring its master, and sucked it, carefully, so as not to bring him off. I toyed with Juliette's nipples, got between her legs and tweaked her tiny clitoris. There was no thought, little talking, just bodies responding to other bodies. Gradually we knew that the time was approaching for us to fuck. Our eyes became more serious and our breath grew hotter. I trusted in my companions to know what to do with me when the time came. Finally Robert announced that he could bear our beauty no longer without paying tribute to it. He eased us both out of the spa and towelled us off. Lovely as ever, sparkling whitely in our most intimate places with lean, lightly tanned arms and legs, our hair loosely pinned, we let Robert escort us back to the bedroom. We climbed upon the bed with definite intentions now, no longer sporting nakedly, Juliette bringing along a tube of KY jelly. Earnestly she and I greased up Robert's prong, not caring anymore whether we were pleasuring him or not, only mindful in the backs of our minds that he must not spill prematurely. Robert shuddered with the obvious delight of a man whose cock has been claimed by loving females. When we finished, Juliette told me to lie back and spread my legs. Then she slipped a pillow under my hips, elevating them. She stretched out on top of me, kissed me, and spread her own legs. "Take whichever of us you prefer," Juliette said over her shoulder to Bob. "Or try us both at once." Then she turned her face to mine and, clasping my cheeks between her palms, commenced kissing me avidly upon the mouth. We made love repeatedly that night, until I could take no more. The rest of the weekend we lounged about their house, having sex when we felt like it, enjoying each other's company, mostly naked the whole time. The next weekend we went to a party. My parents thought I'd gotten serious about my studies at last, and thanked God for it. And I had. Except I was studying the sorts of things they did in the bedroom to each other, during all those years I'd been content to sleep with my teddy bear. The party was at a large mansion on the edge of town. We were met by a woman who was dressed unflinchingly in nothing but a corset. She did have on stiletto heels, and an ornate dog collar with fringe hanging down in the direction of her bosoms, but that was all. The corset itself failed to cover her breasts, which loomed above it like balloons at a fair. Delicate and elegant, with gorgeous blonde hair piled fashionably atop her head, she was the very picture of feminine refinement. I admired her superb beauty and the way she freely displayed her pussy, blonde as the hair on her head and each curl carefully groomed. Bare legged, bare-hipped, bare bottomed, she played the role of hostess as gracefully as any society lady. She led us into a roomful of people, the men mostly dressed, the women in various states of undress. I was introduced to everyone and allowed to settle in a bit. I was just starting to relax when our hostess said it was time for me to begin my initiation. Shiveringly, the crowd following, I was taken to the punishment chamber. It proved more ominous than I had imagined. Every type of device thought up by man to hurt his fellows was present there. Elke, our hostess, told me to undress and enjoy the spa for a few moments. It was then that I noticed, bubbling away in a corner, a small Jacuzzi. There were towels there and fruit and a scrub brush and sponge for washing. Before I could decide how to handle myself Elke was helping me out of my blouse and skirt. With a flourish she drew down my panties, saying I had a fine bottom and must not be afraid to show it. I told her it wasn't the showing of it that most concerned me, with a meaningful glance at a rack of whips. "Tch, darling, you shall learn to take those. All girls must. That is no reason to cover your beautiful hiney. Now get in the tub and enjoy yourself." She gave me a kind of slap/pat on the ass and sent me off. I slipped out of my heels and stepped into the Jacuzzi. I stood, then bent over. After fingering the water to test it, swirling the bubbles, I filled a little gold pitcher that waited by the side of the tub. As I sensed was desired, I erected myself, still dry, turned toward my audience of guests and poured the water in the pitcher over my boobies. It was hot, I gasped. But then I valiantly refilled the pitcher and brought it up to wet myself again. The water ran down over me, the swell of my tummy, the curls of my pussy, and streamed back into the spa from between my legs. I spread them wider and gave myself another tantalizing wet down. They beckoned me from the spa then, and I went to them, nude save for a little bow in my hair which served to tie it up, to keep it off my back where it might have gotten wet. They dried my front lovingly with a towel and then fetched my heels and had me slip back into them. Elke took my hand and led me over to a rack. She said this would help me in my school report on medieval Europe. She had me back up to it and then strapped me securely to it with my wrists spread above my head, arms achingly straight. My legs were put into a bold vee and tied off also, sticking straight out, towards the floor. Elke tickled my cunny with her fingers, and I noticed that my hips were lewdly elevated, thrust forward, by some obscene lump pressing forthrightly into my bottom from the rack. My clit, already hard, became unbearably so under Elke's caresses. She then took what looked to me like something that belonged on a clothesline and pressed it deeply into the flesh of my cunt. I jolted as it suddenly snapped shut--right on my clitoris! "Aaaauuugh!" I screamed, not so much from pain (of which there was some) but from utter, absolute fright. I'd never even dreamed of such a thing being done to a girl. My nipples seemed to respond by sticking out even farther, as if to make up for my clipped clit's imprisonment. Elke got two more clothesline-like pins and closed them over my nipples also. New shrieks from me, a chuckling smile from Elke, who doubtless began her own career in love in a similar manner. "You should have them pierced," she suggested teasingly. Fearfully I wondered if she included my clitoris in that perverse recommendation. Years later, clitty and nipples long since pierced, I realize that meeting Elke was the beginning of the end for me. She did drugs, you see, and sold them too. I realized that someone who stayed away from using the stuff, and merely sold it, could make a lot more than she was making. So I sold drugs for awhile, for her, to my high school friends, and then moved on to bigger game. I got my whole neighborhood using drugs. One night I was forced to kill a cop to keep from being caught. And then, having tasted blood, I decided to kill Elke. The "business" really boomed with Elke out of the way. I incorporated, drew in "associates," and became more and more callous about the lives I was dealing with. I guess it all started with the bondage stuff. Bondage is sort of callous, in its own way, and I grew callous using it to satisfy myself sexually. I went from wayward innocent to hardened domme. And, of course, I went way beyond anything Elke and her friends had ever contemplated. Once I killed a girl just to keep her quiet. Another time I went too far, playing sex games with a boy. He died. But I considered myself to be basically a decent person. Within certain parameters, of course. I wanted to be on top. And, once I got there, I insisted on staying there. I dreamed of ruling the world. A silly dream, I know, but I persisted in it even after I got caught. Yes, the DEA and the police finally ended my life as a drug kingpin. The courts sentenced me to the electric chair. I appealed, lost. I'm waiting now for them to come for me. These thoughts are my last. Somehow I feel this place, this planet, was made for me. For me to rule it. I think of myself as a God sometimes. Foolish, I know, to think such thoughts. You get kind of insane when you're waiting to die. To be put to death. 'Til death do us part. I hope someone reads this. Perhaps they'll just throw it away, unread. Throw it out with the empty Domino's pizza box that my last meal came in. I wish sometimes the whole world would just blow the fuck up. Maybe it could blow up and leave me as the sole survivor. That would be cool, I guess. I'd be God and ruler then. No one would cross me. Ha. Ha. That was funny. I hear them coming now. You do crazy things when you're in high school. I wish to God that Swingers mag hadn't ended up in my gym bag. Maybe I wouldn't be here now, waiting to die. Surely I wouldn't have met Robert, Juliette, Elke. I'd have been a normal girl with a normal life. A real girl, not the school drug salesman. I wrote a story but I guess no one will read it. I rule the Earth, but then I die. But I "mind meld" myself into a computer. It's pretty cool, except I get stuck inside the thing and can't get out. Until a girl comes along, a girl named Mandy. With a cat. I forget the cat's name. It doesn't matter. The cat never liked me anyway. At least not in the story. There's a prison cat that likes me. Name of Max. But the one in my story doesn't like me. The warden is unlocking my cell now. Trouble with the key. The guy is an incompetent. Well, he says to put down my pen. THE END ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Free Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller666@aol.com -My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 -Back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -or send e-mail to: file.archives@backdrop.com -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -NEW small Usenet newsgroup: uw.alt.sex.stories -END OF ftp EMISSION