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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Passions Playpen part 7 of 14 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PASSION’S PLAYPEN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Seven
Kate felt the car stop some time later. She was squirming in
her seat. She could barely hold in her pee. She sat with puffed
cheeks, exhaling in little puffs, scared that she would urinate on
John’s hand-tooled leather seat. She could think of little else. Her
fears were submerged in a desire to relieve her bladder. She was
grateful for Miriam, who kept her hand pressed close to Kate’s muff.
She sqeezed Kate’s cuntlips together in a childish, but so far
effective, attempt to keep her from peeing.
John escorted the blindfolded Kate from the car as grandly as
he’d put her into his car. He held her arm and carefully helped her
place her feet on his asphalt driveway as if she were the Queen of Sheba
and he merely a slave. In fact, as Kate was well aware, feeling her pee
about to burst from her, she was John’s slave. She gained the ground
and immediately chafed in his hands, eager to run into his house and
piss. She hoped they were at his house. She had no way of knowing, but
they’d promised her a proper bathroom when they arrived. For a moment
she thought, in insane desperation, that they might be at a posh
restaurant, a private one where no one would mind if a girl were brought
in all stained with cum from sex play. Yet, she decided, such a bizarre
fantasy was just a product of her dips into alt.sex.stories on boring
school nights. She’d been reading too much Missy, she assured herself.
John and Melinda did not remove her blindfold. They led her
into the home they shared in such a manner that she would be unable to
identify it, seeing only the rooms, never the outside. Kate blushed as
she felt cool air wash over her heated body. The cape round her
shoulders was left open. It trailed behind her in the night wind,
letting the air stroke even her bottom, making it chilly. Her hair was
a wreck but the wind lifted her long blonde locks and, under the shining
moon, it drew them out behind her, making her look like Lothiriel in
Tolkien’s Lothlorien. An elven queen, moving unsleeping through the
night air, watched by the trees she heard swaying around her.
Kate was helped to mount stone porch steps. Both John and
Melinda helped her, each taking one of her arms that was handcuffed
behind her, guiding her with their hands on her slim upper arms. Kate
heard John put a key in the front door. She stood with her bottom
cheeks compressed, her thighs pressed tightly together, weaving a little
on her feet as she concluded she couldn’t hold herself any longer.
Suddenly she felt a wetness running down her legs. She exhaled
softly. A wave of relief washed over her.
“Good God! She’s peeing on our porch!” Melinda cried to John.
They watched her, holding her arms. Kate felt her urine run down the
insides of her thighs, despite holding her legs together. Her pee
stained the stone and ran down the steps.
Melinda used Kate’s cloak to wipe between her legs. “You’ve
been very naughty, Kate,” Melinda told her. “Look at you! Semen
burbling from your slit, your pee running down your legs. And your
hair, beautiful but unkempt, matted with errant shots of men’s sperm.
Is this how your mother would expect you to come home from a party?”
John laughed. “I forgive you for that, Kate. I wouldn’t want
to see you hurt yourself trying to be good for me.” He urged her
forward. Kate crossed over the threshhold into his house. He didn’t
deign to carry her, but she was merely a slave and he had treated her
remarkably well so far. She told herself that Melinda would have been
jealous if John had carried her in. Kate felt a sense of happiness as
the warmth of John’s home replaced the cool outside air. Her goosebumps
lessened. She felt herself pad across a deep plush carpet and then,
going down what sounded like a hall, she was stopped and she heard John
open a door.
A smell of bare earth met her nostrils. Kate felt herself
pushed forward and she balked. Her feet met creaking steps and she
climbed resistantly, unsteadily down a flight of raw wooden steps. She
felt a sense of danger. Yet, with her bosoms pushing out before her,
their nipples eager and stiff, with her cunt wettening a little even as
she descended, Kate knew she was going to be placed into whatever John
had prepared for her. She hoped he was compassionate for her. She was
just a young college girl, playing games, feeding in oats she knew she
should never touch.
Kate’s blindfold was removed by Melinda. Kate opened her eyes
and stood for a moment completely rigid, stiff as her nipples were. She
was in an earthen cellar. A wooden floor covered it but the walls were
bare and had a deep fertile smell to them. Kate saw not far from
herself a collection of pillows arranged on the floor. They were
covered with silk pillowcases and looked newly washed. Beside them, but
at a little distance to keep them from getting wet, was a water pump.
It was made of brass and looked newly re-built, as if it had replaced a
much older model. Next to the pump, to receive its libations, was an
old battered tin washtub. It looked clean but it seemed like it might
be for washing a dog in, or a cat, yet Kate noticed it was big enough
for a girl to fit into. A clean layer of plastic lay under it to keep
the wooden floor from getting soaked.
Next to the tub was a wooden post. Kate flinched as she saw
chains hanging from the post. They were neatly looped around a
crosspiece that stuck out, penis like, to hold them aloft. Kate saw
that manacles were attached to the post, separate from the chains,
bolted like handcuffs to the front of the post.
Kate shivered. It was cool in the cellar. Deeper in the gloom
she saw unlicensed casks of whiskey and, surrounding them, sacks of
pot. She knew a little Spanish and she read the words printed neatly on
the burlap sacks. “Golden Weed,” they said. Along the top of several
bags were much smaller bags, carefully taped shut and white in color.
“Flour,” each bag proclaimed, but Kate guessed it wasn’t flower they
held inside them. It was a small fortune in heroin or cocaine.
“You’ll be kept downstairs in the storage room for awhile,”
Melinda told Kate. John held Kate as Melinda lit a number of tall
tapering candles near the cushions. Kate saw the candlelight sparkle
upon a tea tray lying in the cushions. It held a small silver vase of
fresh cut flowers and a silver pot of tea, plus blueberry bagels, fresh
from the oven, and slices of ham and munster cheese. The flowers in the
vase were roses and peonies.
“After your bath you may eat,” Melinda said to Kate. John
pushed her forward toward the collection of cushions. Kate saw that
despite the crudeness of the tin tub there was a small collection of
perfume flasks and an atomizer and some fragrant fresh soap next to it,
plus a bottle of strawberry Suave shampoo.
“Get in the tub,” John told Kate. She didn’t respond. She
merely stared down at it, standing over it now, an empty old tin tub
that hardly matched the nice bath Marie had always bathed her in. John
pulled her cloak off and reached into his pocket. Kate heard him draw
out his keys and he unlocked her handcuffs.
Melinda, to Kate’s surprise, removed her dress. She worked
quickly and in just a few moments she was completely naked, just like
Kate, but with her hair much better kempt than Kate’s was. She reached
back into the bun of her hair behind her head and undid it. It fell
down along her face and over her shoulders. Kate stared at Melinda.
The brunette had a body like a model. Her hips were slim and her legs
long and the only thing that must have kept her from being one was the
size of her breasts. They were quite pronounced and they presented
themselves quite firmly, lofting up like twin balloons on her chest, or
twin sno cones, topped by cherries, for Kate saw that Melinda had taken
care to tan herself in such a way that her breasts, and her pubic
region, were kept perfectly white. There were no marks on her anywhere,
despite her life with John and his bad reputation.
Kate felt a little jealous of Melinda and thought, as the woman
gazed casually at her, that the feeling was mutual. Both of them were
very pretty and John, still suavely dressed, had obviously to choose at
some point which of their pretty nests he wanted to stick himself into.
Kate heard a scuffling on the stairs and, startled, turned her head.
John held her firmly. As Kate looked behind herself she rubbed her
wrists, for the handcuffs had been a little too tight for her.
“Ma’am? Sir? Will you be wanting anything else?” Kate heard a
high-pitched, proper British accent ask.
“Bring the strap. Our guest may prove unruly,” Melinda said
casually, brushing her hair back from her face as she spoke. Kate
shivered and felt her bottomcheeks tense. John cupped her bare heinie
with his broad calloused palm and made her step into the tub.
“Sit down. I’m going to bind your hands to the post so Melinda
can wash you properly,” John told Kate. She looked up at him. She was
forced to huddle in the tub in a seated postion, her bottom against the
cold tin floor of the tub, with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her
arms sought refuge from John’s command by wrapping themselves around her
legs. Kate interlinked her fingers in hopes of denying him.
As easily as if plucking fruit from a branch, John reached down
with his hands and plucked up Kate’s. He lofted her hands over her and
pushed them backward until they bumped against the post. Then he
fastened each of her wrists into the steel manacles that were fixed to
the post. Kate, not fighting him by trying to remove her hands from
his, instead leaned forward and bit at his crotch with her mouth. His
dick was caught quite visibly in his trousers and she tongued at his
zipper with her tongue and then caught it between her teeth. As he
bolted her wrists to the post she unzipped his pants. She delved
between his opened zipper with her tounge, feeling the steel bits of the
opened zipper scrape themselves against her tongue as she went
exploring. She licked his cotton underpants. They were stiff with
promise. John laughed as he felt what she was doing to him. Quickly he
finished binding her. Then he opened his trousers and dug inside his
underpants hole and presented Kate with his freed cock.
Kate gasped at his size. He was as big as any man she’d
encountered. She gave his pee hole a tentative lick with her tongue.
Then, boldly, as if to scare him, she caught his big bulbing penis head
between her teeth and drew back her lips to let him see how her small
pearly teeth held him so dangerously. But even as she lightly bit him
she could feel his girth and the blood pounding in his shaft and she
knew he was like an iron beam, barely feeling her little teeth as they
tried to taunt him. So she licked his pee slit with her tongue again
and this, unlike the biting, produced a response in him. He sighed and
seemed to grit his teeth and for a moment she felt scared that he might
actually spill himself into her mouth. She looked up at him and watched
his face as he recovered himself.
Out of the corner of Kate’s eye she saw a large rotund woman
dressed in an old-fashioned maid’s outfit. She walked across the wooden
floor carrying a leather belt. She held it out in front of herself by
her fingertips, as if she were afraid of it, or disapproved of the use
it might be put to.
“I trust the tea is satisfactory, ma’am?” the maid asked in a
voice that showed her pride, despite her status.
“I’m sure it will be, Eunice,” Melinda answered. If the maid
noticed that Melinda was completely naked, and that Kate was new and
naked too, and that John had his penis between Kate’s lips, the maid
showed it not. Primly she turned upon giving Melinda the belt and
walked back across the floor and up the cellar steps. She was quite fat
and Kate could hear her stockinged thighs rubbing together as she
walked. Yet, lifting her dress slightly to keep it from brushing the
steps, the maid walked with a certainty and a gracefulness that Kate
envied. She was just a little college girl ensconsed in an old tub, but
the maid was a proud, matronly woman, who performed her duties well but
obviously suffered no abuse from anyone.
“Call if you need me, ma’am. I’ll be walking the dog
meantime,” Eunice said without turning to look back at them. Kate
watched the woman’s girth disappear up beyond the top of the steps and
she heard the cellar door open and close.
“She does good work,” John said absently to Kate. “The tea is
always fresh and she takes care of everything we don’t want to bother
with.” As he spoke he eased his cock out from between Kate’s lips. She
gave his penis a parting kiss on its tip.
“Sit back and relax. I’ll wash her,” Melinda told John. He
retreated to the pile of cushions and sat down on them. Leaning back,
he lay like a Roman emporer, still dressed in his suit but with his
penis out to take in the air. It stuck up like a scepter.
Melinda took something from atop the bales of pot. Kate saw it
brought into the light made by the flickering candles and saw that it
was a camera.
“Do you want to begin photographing her?” Melinda asked John.
“Yes,” John smiled. He took the camera from Melinda. He
adjusted its knobs and its lens.
“I don’t want to be photographed!” Kate blurted. She tried to
get up from the tub but found she’d lost her ability to, given that her
hands were fixed to the post.
“Oh, John’s going to record every nuance of your emotions
during your stay here,” Melinda smiled. Her eyes glinted as John
pointed the camera at Kate and set of its flash bulb. Kate’s eyes were
recorded in panic, her breasts bouncing on her chest as she tried,
vainly, to rise from the metal tub she’d stuffed herself into. “You
should be proud of the expense he’s going to, just for you,” Melinda
said with a smirking smile. “The best soaps and the finest tea and
fresh silk cushions for you to lie upon are all yours, because he
considers you beautiful, even though you are just a girl starting
college. And the expense he’ll incur printing all those photos he’s
going to take of you! He hopes to recoup the cost, of course, charging
quite a lot for a peek at you in your birthday suit, but it’s a risk all
the same, and he might lose his shirt, if men feel you don’t suit them.”
John took photograph after photograhp of Kate, catching her
every gasp as she stared into his camera and then, blushing, tried her
best to look away, all the while with her arms manacled above her and
her breasts responding bouantly to every one of her nervous sighs.
Melinda walked over to her and began pumping the pump. John captured a
shot of her bottom as she bent over the pump and worked its handle.
Melinda’s breasts dangled beneath her like ripe fruit and Kate wished
she could bite off Melinda’s stem-like nipples. John caught another
shot of Kate as the ice cold water from the pump spurted and sloshed
over Kate into her imprisoning tub. It came from deep within the earth
and Kate hoped there weren’t any nightcrawlers breeding down in that
deep underground well that fed her bath. The water was freezing and
Kate felt her nipples stand out even more protrudingly, as if that were
possible. Yet the water, washing over her, felt cleansing too, washing
away the sperm of the men who had loved her in Marie’s evil ‘game room.’
Melinda bathed Kate lovingly. She lifted each of Kate’s
bosoms, using a sponge. She bent and teasingly kissed each of Kate’s
nipples before passing the soap-laden sponge over them. She washed
between Kate’s thighs, and John recorded Kate’s apprehension as Melinda
scrubbed Kate’s pussy until Kate felt herself brinking on orgasm.
Kate’s arms were unshackled when it was time for her bottom to be
bathed. Melinda smoothed her soft palm across its white, satiny
surface. Kate suspected she’d feel something much less pleasant on her
bottom before her visit with John and Melinda was over but, for the
moment, her hiney was accorded the same luscious affection as the rest
of her. Her legs were washed and Melinda complimented their length and
firmness. They were a little skinny, she told Kate, but in time her
thighs would fill out.
Kate was made to present her slit to Melinda and the woman
stuck a squeeze tube into her and douched her, John watching,
photographing it all. Kate blushed deeply, knowing the tube must look
like a prick upping its way into her, or growing out from her, but there
was nothing she could do and she was sleepy now from her long night and
she didn’t resist. Melinda douched Kate’s bottom too, for she could see
that someone had spent himself in her there, leaving his seed behind to
slowly ooze out of her.
Melinda washed Kate’s hair for her, using the shampoo and a
bottle of conditioner that had been sulking behind the post, amidst a
collection of rude upstanding dildos and a little pile of condoms. Kate
wondered at the collection. No doubt some of the items would be put to
use soon, but she had no control over when or why or how. Melinda
rinsed her under the cold tap of the hand pump and then, holding her
arm, she bade Kate to get out of the tub.
Kate was dried with a soft towel, Melinda drying her as John
took photos. Melinda made sure that in drying between Kate’s legs, and
across her nipples, she rubbed enough to get Kate excited. Kate’s slit
pulsed with soft desire and she longed to be made to sit on John’s
upstanding penis. He continued photograhing her, catching each of her
blushes and sighs.
They took in tea and bagels, Melinda feeding Kate and herself
as Kate was made to sit on the cushions with her hands newly handcuffed
behind her. Kate didn’t like this odd subservient, captive Queen role
they’d planned for her but there was nothing she could do about it.
John was big and quite strong and his biceps looked as if they might
tear open the sleeves of his suitcoat whenever he bent his arms.
Meanwhile, sticking up through his elegant trousers stood his penis,
obviously satisfied by what it saw.
To Kate’s surprise, her hands were unlocked after she’d been
fed. She rubbed her wrists again. The cuffs had been tight and
bothered her but she’d not complained, for she felt a strange excitement
at being forced to sit open-legged, Indian-style, with John able to see
and photograph her moist slit. Now that her hands were hers again she
placed one of them over her pussy to see what denying a view of herself
to John would provoke.
“Yes, rub yourself. Let John photograph you rubbing yourself,”
Melinda told Kate. At first Kate felt bashful but she was quite aroused
by how they treated her and, reluctantly, looking down at her naughty
slit which so deeply wanted to be fucked, she rubbed it. She found her
spot. She threw back her head and gasped loudly as she made herself
totter up to the brink of orgasm. Then, just before she was about to
cum, with Melinda playing with her own pussy as she watched Kate, the
woman stopped herself and reached out and stopped Kate too.
“That’s enough,” Melinda told Kate. “All is not just pleasure
here. Anyone could see that buy simply buying Penthouse. John
photographs girls in all their moods.” Kate sighed and wanted very much
to play with herself some more, just the little more that was required,
but she couldn’t, for Melinda held her hand firmly and seemed ready to
capture her other hand if Kate tried to use it to please herself. John,
flash pulsing, captured Kate’s mood as she shivered just out of reach of
her orgasm. Kate’s breasts heaved on her chest and her nipples stood up
like thorns. Her soft girlish belly sighed deeply.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Melinda told Kate. “John and I collect
fine antiques and he’d get some nice photos of you if he let you see
them.”
Up the stairs they went, leaving the cellar. Kate was made to
go first up the steps. Melinda followed her. Instead of handcuffing
Kate again, Melinda simply held Kate’s wrists behind Kate’s back,
keeping them there with just the slightest pressure of her manicured
fingers. Kate didn’t resist. She was glad she could avoid the tight
binding of the handcuffs. She wondered if Melinda watched her bottom as
she walked up the steps, for it protruded behind her, on account of her
arms being held behind her. She suspected Melinda watched the rolling
of Kate’s ass cheeks and Kate gave them an extra wiggle as she mounted
each step, just to show Melinda that despite her captivity she was
capable of a little teasing herself. John followed, snapping the
occasional picture. He left his penis hanging out of his trousers. It
was hard and erect and showed no sign of lessening in its ardor for
Kate.
Kate was taken into the living room. There, standing on a
plush rug, she was shown a wide collection of rare antiques by Melinda.
John snapped pictures of Kate examining the old relics. Kate inspected
a pair of ivory candlesticks, to fragile to ever hold real candles
again. She touched a sword from the middle ages, sharp on both of its
sides. She was careful not to cut her fingers on its sharp blade. She
found herself enthralled by a Jade sculputure of a Japanese maiden.
Next to it was a dwarf tree, carefully cropped to keep it small despite
its advanced age, “at least 200 years,” Melinda assured her.
Kate was shown Melinda’s fine china. Examining a cup, Kate
found herself standing next to the living room’s fireplace. It had a
stone hearth. Suddenly, as Melinda lectured Kate on the age of the cup
and its frail delicacy, Kate looked at John with his insidious camera.
Out of spite, she dropped the cup. It shattered on the hearth. Melinda
shrieked. Then, quieting with a strange brooding satisfied kind of
quiet, Melinda looked from Kate to John.
“You may continue your photographing if you wish,” Melinda told
John. “But I’m going to make our friend here pay for the cup.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate mumbled. But she knew she wasn’t and she
wondered if the buzzing of her hungry little pussy had made her
misbehave. John captured another shot of her, his penis stiffly erect,
as she allowed Melinda to take her hand and guide her away from the
shards of the shattered cup to the other side of the room. Melinda
unlocked and opened the front door and pushed Kate outside.
Kate found herself standing on the stone porch again. The
night was still. The moon had set. Kate noticed that the porch was
wet. Someone had washed it off for them. In the cold night air Melinda
came out on the porch, behind her, and forced Kate down the front
steps. Kate found herself pushed from the concrete walkway that led up
to the porch into the front yard’s dewy grass. She didn’t like getting
her feet wet but there was nothing she could do, for Melinda followed
her closely, pushing her ahead until they approached an old tree
standing in the middle of the lawn. All about the front yard stood a
forest of pines. They’d been cleared from the yard but they stood just
beyond it, staring down with their heavy dew-laden branches. There was
not a sound in the forest. Kate felt like Gretal, come to the candied
house of the witch to be eaten.
Hanging from the tree, the single tree permitted in John’s
yard, was a noose. Kate saw it and flinched with horror. The noose
hung from a branch of the tree. It was a stout branch, big enough to
hold the entire weight of a girl like Kate. She was pushed under the
branch by Melinda and then, with Melinda grabbing her arms from behind,
she was made to reach up into the noose itself. Melinda bound her
wrists with it so that Kate couldn’t do anything but stand helplessly
under the tree. Kate balanced on her tip toes. She was stung up so
that her heels could not longer touch the grass.
Melinda, as it turned out, had slipped into high heels on her
way out the front door. Kate noticed this as she turned her head
pleadingly to Melinda to be released from the noose. Fear knotted
itself in Kate’s tummy as she saw that Melinda held a pair of steel
clippers in her hand. But instead of cutting off Kate’s nipples, as
Kate momentarily feared, Melinda cut a slim branch from the tree. Kate
realized she was strung up under a birch tree. She wiggled her bottom
and tried to free herself from the noose. John came around in front of
her and snapped her picture as she watched Melinda stalk round behind
her, swingning the freshly cut birch. It sliced cooly through the night
air. It seemed to ache for something to strike.
Kate heard a woman’s voice cry out in the night. For a moment
she fancied it was her own, but nobody had touched her, she realized,
after a moment, tensing her bare bottom and feeling it respond in the
stillness of the night air. Suddenly she saw a dog bounding across the
lawn. A woman’s voice called to it. Kate realized Eunice was calling
the dog, but it failed to obey. It ran up to Kate and sniffed Kate’s
huddling bottomcheeks. Kate yelped. She tightened her bottom, but felt
quite helpless, for it still bulbed out behind her like a big moon,
asking for whatever attention it got.
The dog raised itself on its hind legs and tried to mount Kate.
“Spot! Bad dog! Down!” Melinda said to the dog. Perhaps out
of courtesy for a fellow female, she gave the male dog a hard cut with
her birch. He dropped to all four of his legs, yelping a little and
surprised, but undissuaded. He ran round in front of Kate and sniffed
at her bush and immediately mounted her thigh, standing erect and
rubbing himself against it. Melinda swatted him again with her birch.
He dropped down but circled Kate excitedly, dying to spend on her.
Eunice came bustling up. Her stockings could be heard as her thighs
rubbed together. She grabbed the dog’s collar and led him away from
Kate.
“Open your legs. The dog’s gone,” Melinda told Kate. The
blonde felt afraid and kept them tightly together.
“Do as she says,” John told Kate. His voice was stern, not at
all the laughing voice she’d grown accustomed to. “I want to photograph
you being whipped by her. Do it now!” John barked.
Kate opened herself to Melinda’s gaze. Her fig could just be
seen, hiding up between her legs. John, in a less sanguine mood now,
perhaps because of his aching cock, gave himself a few quick, fisting
strokes before resuming his photography.
“Are you ready?” Kate heard. She was going to tell Melinda
‘No, certainly not!’ but then she realized Melinda had asked John, not
her.
“Yeah, I have enough film,” John answered, checking his
camera.
Melinda swiped the branch in low and struck Kate right across
her incurving bottomcheeks, where they swept back under her to meet her
thighs.
“No!” Kate cried. She screamed at the stars in the dark
cloudless night but all she heard in response was the swaying of the
trees, and a bark from Spot as Eunice led him away.
Amidst flashes from John’s camera Kate was made to suffer under
the birch. She cried and wept and pleaded, and John caught her every
gasping cry and begging imprecation. He photograhped her as her tears
sprung from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. He photographed her as
she closed her thighs together and squeezed her bottom and tried to
protect herself, only to be bitten more deeply by the birch and forced
to show her private in all its openness again.
When Kate had been well-marked by the birch, John memorializing
her damaged fanny in a series of flashes, she was forcibly fucked.
Eunice brought out a dildo and Melinda, standing behind Kate, made Kate
take the whole thing up her cunt. Then, with it wet from her own
juices, Melinda introduced the dildo anew to Kate, making her take it up
her wounded bottom. John forced himself into Kate’s pussy as she was
voilated from behind. Kate had never been double-fucked. She found it
almost unbearable, like two massive flagposts going up her at once.
Eunice snapped photos for John’s collection.
When John had spent himself in Kate, he withdrew and let
Melinda take her down. He went inside with Eunice. Kate followed a
little later, Melinda guiding her across the grass. Melinda tutted over
how the dew made Kate’s feet wet and promised to bathe them for her when
they were inside.
30
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NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 272 EMISSION
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