Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS No. 82 alt.sex.stories D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S watermelon moon Part Twenty-Five by Andrew Roller Chapter Seventeen "Get on with your story!" Willette commanded. "Well, anyway, this true blonde had a ponytail down her back. A single, braided ponytail. And you'll find as our story begins that she is wearing a garter belt. I know you girls only ever manage to get garter belts that are one piece of elastic all around the waist, but this girl's belt was not held up that way. It was tied in back with a pretty pink bow. You see, the belt came with two pink ribbons and you tie themÑ" "Enough of the garter belt. We get the point. We'll look for some the next time we go shopping, just for you," Willette snapped. "Why thankyou," Steve replied. His teeth flashed a white grin in the dark. "Anyway, in addition to the belt she is wearing long black stockings and spiked high heels. And long elbow length gloves that stretch halfway up her upper arms. Now these gloves are mittens, in that they leave her thumbs and fingers bare." "Whoopee," Willette sighed. "In addition she is wearing a pearl choker. And long, dangling, dazzling silver earrings," Steve said. "What about her panties?" Cindy asked in an innocent voice. "She isn't wearing any," Steve said. "Oh, but she must have panties," Cindy said. "I think she should have pink panties to match her pink bow on her garter. Or white onesÑ" "Look, it's my story," Steve said. "Or do you want to tell it while I fuck Lori here?" "Oh, no. You must tell it. I don't know what's going to happen to this Cindy. I only know what's going to happen to me," Cindy said plaintively. "O.K. Well, this Cindy is not where you might expect. She has just joined a very posh health club. And she has arrived, dressed as ordered, for her very first workout," Steven said. "That's weird," Willette groused. "How can she work out in high heels and jewelry?" "Well, I suppose she could," Cindy mused. "But she'd definitely have to have a trainer to help her and guide her." "Listen, are you girls going to talk all during my story?" Steven cried. "No, no, Stevie, you just go right ahead," Cindy said. "Get to the part about the big monster so I can squeeze Dick real hard without Willette getting jealous." Cindy giggled. Willette, sticking her tongue in her cheek, tweaked Cindy's nearest nipple with her nail. "First they have Cindy sit down bare bottomed on a slick, plastic covered bench. It's cool to the touch and everything in this club is kept squeaky clean at all times. Every girl in this club always works out in her lingerie, Cindy. I'll make you work out at my house in your lingerie so you can see how easy it is. Anyway, there are three men standing around this Cindy to help her. Their stiff cocks poke out at her. They hand her a very light pair of silver executive dumbbells. They have her do curls with them to begin to get worked up," Steve said. He settled with a sigh onto his back and let a seizure of momentary passion rush through him as Lori continued to reacquaint her fingertips with his cock. Then he continued: "Next Cindy is taken over to a Nautilus machine and made to sit down on it. She leans forward until her shoulders butt up against a leather pad. Then, to make sure she doesn't cheat, her arms are drawn behind her and her wrists are tied together with a ribbon. Not to really bind them, just as a symbolic form of bondage. Then Cindy is told to begin bending forward until her tummy touches her thighs. Her breasts wiggle with each downward thrust of her body. The men salivate over her alluring nipples." "This is sooo exciting," Cindy mocked. She gave a little sigh. Languidly she lifted a hand and studied her finely chiseled nails in a shaft of moonlight. Willette, cuddling the girl from behind, giggled. "Well, maybe I should fast forward to the part where Cindy is given a rub down by the men after her workout," Steve offered. "Why don't I just give your penis a rubdown right now and we can forget this stupid story?" Lori offered. Steve seemed not to believe that the girls were going to let him off the hook. He cleared his throat to continue, when suddenly Lori sat up. "A rubdown with the inner walls of my vagina, that is," Lori said. "Alright!" Steve crowed. Lori straddled him and Willette watched with much more suspense than she had felt during Steve's dumb story as the boy's cock, standing straight up, was slowly consumed by Lori's lowering pussy. Lori tossed back her head and gave a small moan when Steve was fully buried inside her. Then she began to buck up and down atop him. Their group was together once more. Chapter Eighteen They were all gathered in the living room the next evening when Lori picked up the machine gun they had stolen from New World Order. Willette gazed at the gun. It seemed so odd now. So out of place. She shivered. She hoped soon she would never have to see another gun ever again. "It's been fun," Lori said aloud. She looked at the gun and stroked it as she spoke. Willette wondered if the woman might be contemplating sticking the gun barrel up her pussy. Willette had done that once, at a party, with a long-nosed squirtgun filled with champagne. "I have enjoyed being here with all of you. It's been quite a vacation," Lori continued. "You sound like you're going someplace," Bob said. "I am," Lori said. "I am. Far, far away from here." She looked at the others gathered around her by the fire. Her eyes were bright. Willette felt a sudden unexpected chill. Did the others feel it? It seemed as if she were suddenly gazing at someone very evil. Lori levelled the gun at Bob. "Without you," Lori said. At that instant Lori let loose a fusillade of gunfire. The bullets ripped Bob apart, splattering everything around him with blood. Lori fired leisurely, without haste, as if she were enjoying blowing her husband to bits very much. "And without you," Lori said to a stunned Steven. The boy sat stock still, as if about to be eaten by his own mother. His face still showed utter disbelief even as a rain of bullets tore open his abdomen. "And you," Lori said to Dick. She turned the gun on him even as Steven wretched blood and gasped for air. Before Dick could react he was being shredded by gunfire. Another moment and he might have responded. His eyes clung to Lori's glorious breasts even as the light in them dimmed. Dick screamed but his cry was cut short by the hail of bullets. Beside him Cindy kept on screaming, until Lori turned the gun on her too. Willette sat stock still, watching Lori as the woman blew away poor Cindy, who sat right next to her, her very bones threatening to pierce Willette. The blonde was too scared to scream. Suddenly she was back in the library again, with the high school ruffian who had never had a girlfriend. Who hated everyone. Who aspired to play God. Willette's hand felt something hard and cold and metallic under the lacy skirt of the overstuffed chair beside her. It was the tommygun! "Please, Lori," Willette said. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. Her Dickie was dead. Willette dared not look over at him. Somehow, some way, despite her confusion, she knew she must live! "Lori, please kill me," Willette said. "Of course," Lori said. She trained the gun on Willette. "But before you do, Lori, before you do, would you please tell me what is happening? Is this some crazy dream?" Willette pleaded. She wanted to pinch herself. Lori laughed. "I love it," Lori said. "Who cares whether or not you're having a dream? You'll dream forever in just...one...second..." Lori drew out her last words for effect. "Lori," Willette said. "Tell me why." Even as she spoke her hand felt the tommygun beneath the chair. Felt its barrel, its handle, its trigger. "I'm not telling you anything," Lori snarled. "You wouldn't believe it anyway if I did." "Lori," Willette said. "I'll trade you gold for your identity." "Gold?" Lori asked. Her eyes widened. "There's gold buried near here, Lori, but you'd never guess where. Tell me why you just killed my Dickie, why you're about to kill me, so I can go to my death in peace. And I'll tell you where you can find gold." "I don't need gold," Lori snarled. "I'm well funded." "It's not real gold, Lori," Willette said. "It's documents. I was reading them. And now, even now, oh God! Now I understand what you were whispering in my ear as you slept beside me!" "I was whispering in my sleep?" Lori asked. Her eyes narrowed. "You know, I might have been persuaded to take you with me, as a little loveslave. It would have been so fun to make a headstrong girl like you submit to my will. Really submit. Not like anything I could have gotten you to do here, with these others." Lori waved her gun over the corpses lying in a circle around them. Willette nearly yanked out her tommygun, but Lori's gun was back on her before she could. "If you've been hearing me talking in my sleep though, Willette, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you." "Yes," Willette said slowly. "Kill me and never find those documents. Pull the trigger now, for I no longer am confused about anything. You're Hatam!" Willette screamed the last words. She felt sure Lori would pull the trigger. She saw Lori's finger squeeze it, but, somehow, at the last minute the young woman held back. "You are clever," Lori said. "This isn't your grandfather's cabin," Willette said. "Your people, your New World Order people, who wouldn't even recognize you if they passed you on the street, they came here recently and took away whoever lived here. And you knew that. And you brought us here because you knew this cabin had just recently been 'abandoned,' so to speak, abandoned by the owners when New World Order took them away." "Yes, such a brain, such a shame to blow it away," Lori said, and squeezed her trigger again, and relented once more. "Now tell me about the documents." "I don't want to help you," Willette glared. She found herself give a little laugh. "Why don't you make me submit?" Willette found herself walking across the field of daisies with Lori's gun at her back. The wind blew in her hair. Above them the moon had risen. It was waning after all. Waning as her own life ebbed. She thought of the child she was carrying in her womb. Was it a boy? It was her last living memory of Dick. Yet it would never see the light of day. Willette was still in her spiked heels. She wore only a pair of the skimpy panties. She was still dressed for a party that had long since ended. "Why did you kill the family that lived here?" Willette breathed to the woman at her back. She had had to leave the tommygun under the chair. Somehow she hoped she could return to the cabin, get the gun, kill Lori...somehow. "They didn't live here. It was just their vacation home," Lori said. "Obviously, one of them knew too much about me...about our operations. It was a woman!" Lori snarled. "She work for the CIA or something?" Willette asked conversationally. "Yes," Lori said. "And she was getting hot on my trail. She was doing better than any man ever had." Lori laughed. "Way better than your dead Dickie. Or that stupid cop husband of mine, Bob." They walked in between trees at the edge of the woods. Shadows shafted on either side of them, created by the moon. Willette heard leaves rustle above her head. "So you were married to Bob?" Willette asked. "Of course," Lori said. "I met him in the middle east, in Turkey, actually. He was on a trip to the Holy Land. I got him to marry me on the spot and take me with him. We did some nice surveillance of Israeli army activities. Or, at least, I did. He never knew a thing. Neither did the Jews. Deep cover," Lori said. "Like your husband said, I'm under very deep cover. You should consider yourself very lucky to have met Hatam. Few people will ever meet me in life and ever know it." "Well, Hatam," Willette savored the name. She felt the gun flinch at her back. "You didn't know there were any documents buried here, did you?" "I wouldn't have thought there were," Hatam/Lori said. "The woman CIA agent just bought this place for her family about a month earlier. My surveillance teams never even reported her coming up here before the day she arrived...and we grabbed her." "There aren't!" Willette cried, and yanked hard on the branch of a tree that snaked out over the leaf strewn forest floor. The branch had just enough give in it to jab outward at Hatam. Outward, like a spear. The sharp little branches at its farthest extremity poked Hatam in her eyes. Its leaves jostled in her face. Willette spun underneath the branch as Hatam's gun fired. Then she kicked up her long leg and stabbed Hatam right in her tummy. Hatam bowled over, screaming anger and remorse. Her gun burst forth another useless fusillade. Before Hatam knew it Willette was on her back. Hatam lifted her gun, firing more, the stream drawing dangerously close to Willette's head. Willette grasped the gun and began wrestling with Hatam for it. The two females fell to the ground. They sprawled in the dirt, wrestling over the gun. It fired again, dropping a hail of bark and leaves and twigs right on top of them. And then Willette grabbed the gun away. She leapt to her feet. "I'm the one who won our little wrestling match, remember?" Willette smiled at Hatam. The woman stared back at her, one had over her eye, the other clasping her stomach. Both females were breathing hard. Their breasts jostled prettily with each breath. Hatam didn't even have panties on. Her lovely pussy lips stared up at Willette, as if to tempt her. Willette thanked God that she wasn't born a man. "And now I'm going to win again," Willette said. The gun was poised and ready. One pull of the trigger and Hatam would be history. No more dead corpses like Dick, and Bob, and Cindy, and Steve. No more attacks on agents or innocent people. No more faxed orders to to the minions of New World Order. "You're going to go into really deep cover now, baby," Willette said hotly. "Six feet under." "You're as evil as I am," Hatam smiled. She let her hand drop from her eye. There was a film of blood on it, exuding from a deep puncture. A dark red patch was forming on her tummy, sure to turn to an ugly black bruise. "This is Justice," Willette said, jabbing the gun at her. "Talk and give yourself a few more minutes of life." "Of course," Hatam said. "Anything you want to hear." "I want to hear about your life, about your operations, about New World Order," Willette said. "And if I smell the slightest bit of falsehood the trigger gets pulled." "I feel like I'm sitting in an electric chair," Hatam said. "Talk!" Willette barked. "I took over New World Order five years ago," Hatam said. "But I'm modest. I have no need for glory like the other egotistical fuck heads who run terrorist organizations. As a woman, I prefer to work quietly. Quietly and effectively. To bring about the New World Order." "Yeah, yeah," Willette said, motioning with her gun. Hatam stood and she stepped back. "I didn't tell you to get up, bitch!" Willette cried. "Frightened of me, are you?" Hatam asked. "Just talk," Willette said. "Tell me how I can kill New World Order after I kill you." "Oh, you'll do much damage to them if you get rid of me, I assure you," Hatam said. "They were nothing before I came along. Just one more misguided group with guns and big ambitions in Beirut. Now we're the largest terrorist organization in the world. And I plot their every move. I order, they obey. All in secret, of course. And I'm so deep, like you said, they'd foolishly kill me without even knowing who I am." "Like they almost did when we were in their grip," Willette said. "At the compound." "Yes, a slight slip up on my part placed me there. But I wasn't too worried. I considered it an excellent opportunity to see how well they knew their job. Considering I killed any number of them, I'd say not too well. The rest will die when you and I finish our business here. They are incompetent!" "You're an idiot," Willette said. "If they'd been competent they'd have killed you." Hatam laughed. "I'm protected by Allah," Hatam said. She looked at Willette with shining eyes. "Can you say as much?" "All I'm getting from you is bullshit," Willette snapped. She pulled the trigger of the gun. Nothing happened. "Holy shit!" Willette gasped. Hatam lunged at her. D R E A M G I R L S N E W S holy joe ON THE LAW Remedies Let us assume that I pay Carol Horny $100.00 for an inflatable doll. Horny accepts my $100.00 but never delivers the doll. What's a good pervert to do? Example two: Horny offers to sell me an inflatable doll for $100.00. I accept, and while waiting for the doll to arrive I go to great expense to convert my bedroom into a giant "rubber dungeon." I plan to charge admission to the neighborhood children and make thousands of dollars allowing them to view my "rubber exploits." However, the doll never arrives. Can I sue Horny for (a) the doll, (b) the expense I went to redecorating my bedroom, and (c) all the profits I lost by not being able to showcase my "rubber exploits"? Example three: I am in the business of providing "bondage plays" to my local community. I see an ad for a Raymond Burr rubber doll, which I know will make a fine addition to my business and earn me thousands more in ticket sales. The Horny Company fails to deliver the Raymond Burr doll. May I sue Horny for lost profits? HOLY, C.J. (gives the answer): There are three types of interests that can be protected at LAW. They are the restitutional interest, the reliance interest, and the expectation interest. In example one, you lost the purchase price of your doll. ($100.00). You may indeed sue Horny for the $100.00 and I will award it to you. This is called protecting the restitutional interest. In example two, you relied to your detriment on an offer made to you by Horny to sell you a rubber doll. Let us suppose that you are unable to procure a doll from any other source. Let us suppose that it was reasonable for Horny to assume that you would redecorate your bedroom in anticipation of receiving the doll. In this case I will award you not only the $100.00 for the doll, but also the cost of redecorating your bedroom. This is called protecting the reliance interest. However, since you had never charged money for any "rubber exploits" before, I cannot award you the profits you hoped to make by selling tickets to the neighborhood children. For all I know, they would have had no interest in paying to see your "rubber exploits" and you would have made no money at all. In example three, you may collect for the doll ($100.00). One would assume your bedroom was already redecorated. However, if you redecorated to accommodate the Raymond Burr doll and cannot get another one, and Horny could assume you would redecorate, I can reimburse you for the redecorating as well. Most importantly, I can allow you to collect from Horny for your lost profits. Since you had an ongoing "bondage play" business, it will not be difficult for you to prove how much you would have made by adding the Raymond Burr doll. Protecting the profits you expected to make is called protecting the expectation interest. CARDOZO, ROLLER, and WILSON concur. HOLMES was in his bedroom and did not participate. Free Naughty Naked Dreamgirls e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller666@aol.com Free back issues: send e-mail to nnd.inf@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 1995 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Chat: alt.sex.stories.d END OF 82 EMISSION