Message-ID: <6330eli$9712121557@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: 17 Bikini Brigade part 17 of 22 (NND) dec13 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller39@IDT.NET Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <348F003E.2168@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in BIKINI BRIGADE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Seventeen “Halt the column!” Matilda said to Polly. The old woman called out to the peanuts and they stopped. On either side of them stood small, colorful houses. Their rooves, made out of tiles shaped like lollipops, glowed brightly in the setting sun. Beyond, to the west, out over a sea glistening like cream, the glow of the aurora borealis could be seen, its colors mingling with the sunset. A sign stood by the road, which ran between the homes. The sign read, “Lollipop Lane.” But that wasn’t why Matilda had asked that the column of tumbrils be stopped. She’d had it stopped because there were two peanuts standing by the roadside. They both had their thumbs out, as if hitchhiking. They both wore short pants. One of them wore glasses. Otherwise, the small, one-street town was shuttered up, as if everyone in it had left on a journey, and not returned. “Who’re those peanuts?” Matilda asked Polly. They obviously were not with their column, as they were standing, looking rather well rested, by the roadside. They stood idly, with their thumbs extended, hoping for a ride. “Good evening, peanuts! Why your absence from Peanut Province? Are you on business of the Sultan?” Peanut Brittle Polly called out to them. “Yes, ma’am,” one of the peanuts, the one with glasses, answered. “I’m Percy, and this is Paul.” “I’m Paul,” the other peanut agreed, pointing to himself. “We’ve just come from the Citadel, to have a tailor make very important robes for us, so we can attend upon the Sultan,” Percy said. “Oh, is he free again?” Polly asked, smiling. “Uh, no ma’am,” Percy replied, a bit nervously. “But as servants at the Citadel it’s not for us to decide whom to serve, but rather to serve.” “Faithfully and true,” Paul added. “I see,” Polly said. “Peanut Power!” one of the peanuts pulling a tumbril behind the one Matilda was in shouted. But it was a lone voice. It ran down the street and echoed among the homes and then only the surf could be heard again, rolling into the shore. “Well, best get in, boys, unless you want to walk home,” Polly said. “For ourselves, we’re on a mission to find two girls. Perhaps we’ll find them before we reach the Citadel, but if not, we’ll go all the way there, at least, before turning back. I suppose I must pay my respects to the Sultan, whoever he is. It’s not for me to play kingmaker.” Percy and Paul stepped up into the lead tumbril. “We need robes, ma’am,” Percy said to Polly. “Black robes.” “Oh dear,” Polly said. “Call the wardrobe department,” Matilda snapped at the two peanuts who, in her mind, were nothing but midgets; extras holding up her important search for missing children. “We must be moving,” she said to Polly. “No time to waste!” “Government business,” Glenda Guilty agreed. “Yes!” Wilma said. “Oh, dear,” Polly said. She put a hand to her face. “I’m afraid your peanut attire will have to do for now, boys,” Polly said to Percy and Paul. Then she turned to the column, but Matilda was already calling out to the peanuts who served as their horses. “Move along!” Matilda yelled. “Move along, midgets!” Reluctantly the peanuts began walking again. Then they broke into a trot. The other tumbrils began moving behind them. The column of vehicles rolled through Lollipop Lane and out along the beach by the Sea of Cream. Beyond, an ice cream bar could be seen. It was docked along the shore. Lollipops grew around it. The road ran down to the dock, where the ice cream bar, floating placidly, could be untied from a post and pushed out across an inlet to the sea. Across the waves the road could be seen once more, where it ran again into groves of wild lollipops. Matilda thought she could make out the tops of ice cream cones far away in the distance, as if there were a huge building there, with ice cream cones for rooves. But the sun was setting fast, and as she watched the glimmering ice cream rooves disappeared into the blackness of the night sky. “We’ll have to cross part of the Sea of Cream,” Polly said to Matilda. The woman nodded. “Whatever,” Matilda said. “Sure is a big movie set,” Al said. “They must have filmed a Shirley Temple film here, and the Titanic too.” He gazed out across the cream-colored sea at ice bergs that lay far out along the horizon. Night fell, and they could then only be seen intermittantly, as the aurora borealis glowed overhead. Its brightest moments made them appear like colored spectres against the sky. The line of tumbrils rolled down to the shore. Polly ordered the peanuts to pull their lead tumbril out onto the ice cream bar. “Loose the ropes! Cast away!” Polly yelled to the peanuts. They obeyed, and their ice cream barge was put out to sea. The lead tumbril floated atop it. The other tumbrils waited patiently by the shoreline. They made camp in the sand. They built fires to warm themselves in the cool night wind coming in off the sea. “Should we make camp on the other shore?” Polly asked Matilda. “No,” Matilda said. “Let’s press on through the night. Two girls are in danger!” “Very well,” Polly nodded. She turned to Percy and Paul. “Have the ice cream bar go back for the rest. They can cross one by one. We’ll go on. They can catch us as best they’re able,” Polly said. “Yes, ma’am,” Percy and Paul replied, in unison. “And you two stay with me,” Polly said. “I think you’ll make very fine attendants. You’re both fine young men. Pity it’s the Licorice Lad who’s asked you to serve him, though.” “We don’t choose the Sultan, ma’am,” Paul said. “Yes, boys, I know,” Polly said. She shook her head. “I know. And neither do I.” “Yes, my pretty. You look very nice, with your little bikini dyed black for me,” Licorice Lad said to Katie. “Oh, thank you, Licorice Lad!” Katie gushed. She was dressed in her bikini, but it had been newly washed, by peanuts downstairs in the Citadel’s laundry room, and now it was colored black. “Did you have a nice sleep, downstairs in your new bedroom, in the dungeon?” Licorice Lad grinned to Katie. It was an evil grin. “Oh, yes master!” Katie said. “A most wonderful nap, and a bubble bath, and the little peanuts made me up to look very pretty!” “Yes, the Citadel has a fine staff of beauticians,” Licorice Lad agreed. He gazed at Katie. She had darkened eyes, and pouty, lavendar-colored lips. “Let us go to the royal dining room. We shall have a feast, entirely of candy, and then we shall sit on my throne awhile, hmmm?” Katie clapped her hands together and glowed at Licorice Lad with loving eyes. “Oh, yes, Licorice Lad!” she agreed. “And can we eat licorice, black licorice, sitting on your throne?” “Yes,” Licorice Lad said. “And our feast shall be all of licorice too. Licorice strands, and twists, and little round gumdrop licorices.” “Oh, goodie!” Katie said. Licorice Lad stepped down from his throne, steadying the big turban on his head as he stepped down. He took Katie’s hand. “And then, my sweet, we’ll go downstairs to the dungeon, and play all night together in your new bed!” Licorice Lad said. “Oh, yes,” Katie agreed. Impulsively, if just a bit nervously, she gave Licorice Lad a big wet kiss on his cheek. We rode through the night sky, two witches on a broomstick. Except the broomstick was a lollipop and the sky, behind us, glowed with the colors of the aurora borealis. Below us groves of lollipops gave way to a stretch of ocean. In the distance, the Citadel of Sweets could be seen. It stood alone out on a promonotory, surrounded almost completely by the creamy sea. On the eastern side of it lay the dark pit of Molasses Moor. But we approached from the west, not following the pop rock road now, but flying across the sea. “There it is!” I called out to Pauline. I pointed to the ice cream rooves of the huge, towering structure. “Yes!” Pauline, clasping my back, agreed. “My Daddie lives there,” she said. We flew in towards the castle. I gazed up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. The moon was just rising in the east. It was crescent shaped, like a boat rising up out of the faraway Veil of Mists, to take Katie and I back home. I heard a sputtering sound. The lollipop under my legs shuddered, briefly. Then there was a kind of cough from the lollipop and we suddenly dipped lower in the sky. “We’re losing altitude!” I cried. “Waht’s happening?” Pauline asked. “I think we’re running out of gas!” I hollared. We flew lower still. We skimmed along the waves. Then, just short of the shoreline, we connected with the water. “ACKCK!” I heard Pauline cry. I felt cream splash up into my face and for a moment I feared drowning again.. But it wasn’t a plunge into the sea, this time. Rather it was a smooth glide that ended in an awkward crash. I found myself bobbing in the waves a moment later, Pauline paddling beside me. My lollipop was somewhere under the waves. It was sinking to the bottom, but perhaps I didn’t need it anymore. The shore was nearby, a thicket of weeds at the back of the castle. “Your sister said the lollipop’s powers would only last awhile,” I gasped to Pauline. “I guess it’s run out of whatever was powering it.” I’d already told her about her sister, and what had happened to her. Pauline had sobbed a little, hearing it, but cheered up when I told her that helping her Daddie would almost certainly help her sister as well. “It’s okay. We’re here now,” Pauline said. “I know a back way into the castle, and we’re pretty close to it right now!” “Good,” I said. We swam ashore. The sea was rough, against the back side of the castle, but we managed to wash up amongst the rocks safely. We got out and made our way up a slope tangled with ground elders, couch grass, and creeping buttercups. A Bosnian pine swayed overhead. We startled a Royal Albatross in its nest and it flew off. “The horses must rest for the night, troll!” the driver called out. Tommy stuck his head out the window of the carriage. He fired his gun up over the driver’s head. He was drunk from drinking the champagne but, all the same, he took another swig from the champagne bottle he was holding. “No resting!” Tommy cried. The carriage lurched forward, spurred by his gun blast. “Forward to the Citadel! I’ve got the Sultan’s carriage and I’ll sit on his throne before the night is through!” “Damnable troll!” the driver swore, but he said it softly, and spurred the horses with a crack of his whip. The coach rolled under the night sky, through groves of lollipops. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Other stories: type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Under “Quick Search”, type in: roller39@idt.net Press your “return” key. -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. 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. -END OF story EMISSION -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |