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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: 8 Bikini Brigade part 8 of 22 (NND) dec13
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BIKINI BRIGADE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eight
“Quit eating so many lollipops, Al, or you’ll turn into a
little girl,” Matilda snapped. Al bent and picked yet another
Tootsie-Pop out of the grass. He already had a handful of them, as did
the others, including even Matilda, who ate hers with a certain degree
of lust that she’d not felt since she was ten.
“Given the catering we’ve had on this expedition of yours, I
can hardly blame him,” Glenda said.
“Oh, I’m so glad we found these lollipops growing wild in the
meadow,” Wilma said. She hurried along after the others, who were
walking, after picking yet more of them.
“Growing wild?” Matilda asked. She raised the lollipop she was
eating and looked at it. “I hardly would say they’re growing wild.
We’re obviously on some big movie set. Some idiot came along and
planted these things in the ground. Tasty, though,” Matilda added, and
took another hungry lick from hers.
“It’s the first food we’ve had since we got here!” Al said. “I
told you we should have stayed in that forest and eaten candy apples.”
Glenda listened to the distant sound of waves curling and
breaking against the shore. She looked to her right and out over a vast
sea. She saw no sign of any rainbow. Just clouds, and blue sky, with
perhaps a storm forming in the distance.
“That was a better location than we’re in now,” Glenda said.
“And we’ve seen no sign of the girls.”
“Well, we’ve just got to keep walking,” Matilda said.
They crossed to the top of another hill in the grasslands and
that’s when they saw it. It lay beyond a thin stand of trees. It
looked like a marsh. A big, white marsh. Al sniffed the air.
“I smell marshmellows!” Al said happily.
“Oh, I like marshmellows!” Wilma said.
“Look. Up ahead, there’s a sign,” Glenda said. The four of
them walked up to a golden brown sign that had licorice-colored letters
on it. It read:
“Marshmellow Marsh.”
“Hmmm,” Matilda said.
“That sign looks awfully edible,” Wilma said, staring at it.
Tommy was working. He was in his comfy hole once more, under
the bridge. A sign reading “Home Sweet Home” hung from the wall. A
fire cast light from a fireplace in the corner. He stood wearing an
apron, hunched over a workbench. He was making adjustments to a long
metal object in his hands. On the workbench was another object,
identical to the one he held.
The room was a living room. It had a big Jujyfruit fish
hanging over the fireplace. It had two overstuffed chairs, and a big
couch with lace doilies for headrests. Scattered throughout the room,
though, sitting up on the chairs and all over the floor, were bits and
pieces of metal. There were machines, and half-finished machines.
There were plastic hoses and rubber grommets. Tommy’s tools were
scattered all over the room. Hanging next to the “Home Sweet Home”
sign, tacked up apparently at random, was a calendar. There was a nude
female troll on it.
“Too bad Mom died,” Tommy groused to himself, bending over the
long object in his hands. “She’d have brought me dinner if she were
still alive.” He held up the object and gazed at it in the light from
the fire. The flames glinted off it. It had a barrel and a trigger and
a handgrip. “Now if I could just get the damn thing to shoot,” Tommy
said.
A sound of footsteps, crossing the bridge above him, echoed
down into his hole.
“Yipeee! There’s somebody now!” Tommy said. “They’d better
pay me a toll or they’re going to get shot!”
The bridge was long. It ran for a hundered feet across the
white expanse of Marshmellow Marsh. Glenda gazed at the surface of the
marsh as they stepped up on the bridge and began to cross it.
“This place has one hell of a special effects department,”
Glenda said.
“Ah,” Matilda said. She waved her arm dismissively. “I’ll bet
you most of what we’re seeing is just a painting!”
“A painting?” Wilma asked. She looked over the side of the
bridge. A big, white foam bubble appeared underneath her and then
popped and disappeared back into the marshmellow ooze. She glanced out
farther. She saw a white-colored turtle. It crawled down off a log
floating in the white bog and slipped into the goo. Moss-covered
cypress trees stood over them, blocking out the midday sun like a
shroud.
“Who goes there?!” bellowed a voice behind them. The four of
them whirled about. They saw a small figure at the end of the bridge,
where they’d entered the marsh. He was holding two guns.
“Who are you? Security?” Matilda asked.
“I’m Tommy the Troll!” Tommy announced. The fact that he was
wearing short pants did nothing to add to his hopes of appearing
fearsome. Had he considered the matter, he might have done something
about this, but Trolls had always worn short pants, and small rubber
boots, since time immemorial. And his mom, when she was alive, wouldn’t
serve him dinner if he didn’t dress like a proper Troll.
“It’s a damn midget,” Matilda said to Al and Glenda and Wilma.
“We’re trying to find two little girls,” Wilma said to the
troll.
“One is a brunette, and the other is a blonde,” Glenda said.
“And not bad-looking, either,” Al added, speaking as he sucked
on a lollipop. Matilda gave him a scowl.
“Have you seen any girls?” Matilda asked.
“It’s rumored there are two girls somewhere,” Tommy said.
“Hopefully they’re with Licorice Lad by now, in the Citadel of Sweets.”
“Bingo!” Matilda said. She grinned broadly at her friends.
“You see? I was right all along. Those girls are here! Somewhere
around here!”
“But first you must pay me a toll,” Tommy said.
“A what?” Glenda asked. She asked it crossly and Tommy felt
his knees shake a bit, the way she said it. It reminded him of times
when people declared him guilty, and sent him off to the dungeon.
“A- A toll,” Tommy said. He kept his guns levelled on them.
“And what if we don’t pay it?” Matilda asked.
“Then I’m going to shoot you,” Tommy said matter-of-factly.
“I can’t believe this,” Matilda muttered.
“In fact, I’m hoping you don’t pay me a toll, as I do need to
shoot somebody, regardless,” Tommy added.
“You shouldn’t shoot people. It’s not nice,” Wilma said.
“Yes. You should only shoot people when you’re arresting
them,” Al said. “And then only if you have to.”
“And when you’re executing them,” Glenda said, with a deep
frown. She didn’t like being on this bridge and she didn’t like being
in this marsh and she certainly didn’t like having a strange little man
point a gun at her.
“Well, you’re all going to get shot then!” Tommy delcared. He
pulled the triggers on his guns. A small dribble of marshmellow dripped
from their tips. It fell down onto the walkway of the bridge. “Rats,”
Tommy added.
“Why, dammit! That little freak tried to shoot us!” Glenda
said. With a bold step she strode forward. She was a tall woman. She
raised up her hand like Tommy’s teacher used to do in school, and he
could see by her approach that if he didn’t find a way to make his guns
shoot properly, he was going to get thwacked. Maybe even put over her
knee and spanked.
“Yikes!” Tommy cried. Almost dropping his guns, he turned and
leapt off the bridge. He darted into his hole underneth it and slammed
shut the door to his underground house. There were weeds growing in
front of the door to hide it, and when Glenda bent over the bridge’s
railing all she saw were the weeds.
“He’s gone,” Glenda said.
“Well, no matter,” Matilda said. “He’s just some short little
kid with squirtguns. But he has seen the girls! That’s what’s
important. Let’s move along, ladies. You too, Lolita,” she added, with
a glance at Al.
We bathed in a hot spring inside Fruitcake Fort. The spring
had been enclosed inside walls of fruitcake, in a small room. It was
our first taste of privacy. Katie and I enjoyed it.
“This is fun,” Katie said. She was submerged to her chin in
the water. She put a bubble-blower to her lips, a gift from Freddie,
and blew a big bubble.
“Yes,” I agreed. I lay on a soft towel next to the steaming
pool. I was nude. We’d taken off our bikinis to bathe. The pieces of
them floated aimlessly along one edge of the pool.
“Do you want to go to the Bon Bon Forest and eat lots of bon
bons?” Katie asked me.
“Maybe,” I said. “But we really should get to the Citadel of
Sweets.”
“And free the Sultan?” Katie asked. A tinge of worry crossed
her face.
“Yes, I think that’s what we must do, Katie,” I told her.
“Don’t you think so?”
“I dunno,” Katie said. She blew another big bubble, even
bigger than the one she’d blown before. It floated up into the air and
then it popped. “We could just eat bon bons in the Bon Bon Forest for
the rest of our lives.”
“With Bon Bon Bibi?” I asked.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Katie said.
“We’d get big and fat like she is, and never meet any boys,” I
told her.
“Hmmmm,” Katie said. She blew another bubble. She seemed
unable to decide which she liked better: boys or bon bons.
Outside, a sparkling figure wafted down into the courtyard of
Fruitcake Fort.
“Ho! Who goes there? Lord Fruitcake, we have a visitor!” a
gingerman called from the walls of the fort. There was a commotion in
the courtyard. Gingermen gathered around the visitor. With her were
several others, and they now wafted down, just as she’d done, out of the
low-hanging clouds. Each visitor was mounted on a large, clear
lollipop. Each one sat on the lollipop portion and the stick of the
lollipop extended out between each person’s legs. They looked like
witches riding brooms.
The first to land now dismounted from her lollipop. She looked
about 15-years-old. She had long golden hair that hung to her waist.
It was curled, lightly, where it hung free, and where it did not hang
free it was bound into two very long, rope-like braids.
“I am Lolita,” the girl said. She wore a long, flowing dress
that was covered with lollipops. They sparkled profusely, despite the
dimness of the light coming from the overcast sky. Her voice was almost
a whisper. Yet it conveyed great power.
Freddie Fruitcake came stumbling out of a room of the fort. He
had been undressed for bed and now he quickly was trying to get his
wardrobe back on, even as he hurried across the courtyard.
“Lolita-- what brings you here?” Freddie asked. “I thought for
a moment we were being attacked!” Lolita regarded him with quiet,
unassuming eyes.
“The hour is late,” Lolita said. “Both for this day and for my
father’s kingdom.”
“Yes,” Freddie said. Nervously he drew himself up before the
girl, and finished getting his coat on. He was wearing a long coat now,
in addition to his parachute pants, but no shirt. He pulled his coat
around himself so as not to make a display of his bare chest to the
girl. “I was just turning in to bed,” Freddie said.
The light in the courtyard grew dimmer. Night was closing in
upon them. The gingermen lit torches and carried them forward to where
Lolita was standing. But her own dress, bedecked with sparkling
lollipops, cast out a glowing light of its own.
“I didn’t know you could fly up mountains on those damn
things,” Freddie said to Lolita. He pointed at the lollipop she’d
ridden into the fort on. It floated several feet off the ground, nobody
sitting on it at the moment. Lolita’s retainers each dismounted from
his own lollipop. Some of the retainers were males. Others females.
They all wore sparkling attire.
“It was not possible before,” Lolita said. She crossed the
courtyard with Freddie. The wind caught at her dress and blew it,
sending showers of light across the snow-covered ground. “One could
float just a little--”
“Yes. Sort of like a trick,” Freddie said.
“It is due to the changes wrought since my father was thrown in
the dungeon by Licorice Lad,” Lolita said. “It is only temporary. I
think my father is concentrating his power upon it. He has sent word to
me to find two girls. Bambi and Katie are their names. They are here?”
“Yes,” Freddie said. “They’re having a bath right now, I
think. This way--”
“No, let them enjoy their bath,” Lolita replied.
Freddie opened a fruitcake door and led Lolita inside to the
interior of the fort. Her retainers followed, as well as several
gingermen. Sugar and snow began falling thickly outside. It covered
the lollipops and threatened to weigh them down to the earth.
Pauline Praline floated on an ice cream sandwich. She sat
counting her fingers.
“One... two... three... four... five,” Pauline announced to the
waves. “Five. I have five fingers!” she said happily. An ice cream
cone, floating in the waves, bumped against the side of the sandwich
raft she was sitting on. Pauline crawled across the sandwich. Then she
remembered that she’d learned to walk and she got up and walked
instead. She went to the side of the sandwich and bent down.
“Yum!” Pauline said, looking at the ice cream. It was vanilla,
with a cherry on top. It even had rainbow sprinkles on it. Pauline
plucked it out of the creamy sea. She began eating it. “This is one,”
Pauline said to herself. “One ice cream cone. For me, Pauline
Praline!”
The aurora borealis glowed in the sky. Ice bergs floated in
the distance. Pauline sat back down on her ice cream sandwich and ate
the entire ice cream cone. She was very happy. Then she lay down on
the sandwich and took a nap.
30
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