The Unlucky Winner -Or Fruitcake And The Dresses Of Doom free porn video

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The Unlucky Winner -Or Fruitcake and the Dresses of Doom ? by: Emma Smith Being the third adventure of the mildly loveable (so he says), but entirely mad (so we say), scientist Otto Von Fruitcake. Authors Note: When we left our friend at the end of the previous story his cunning but silly plan had totally failed. So there's no change there then. His assistant is soon to be married to a rich and hunky playboy. This is thanks to the now broken sex-changing Flip Gun. You'll notice this means that sadly I can't use it as a cheap plot device any more but I also don't have to think up excuses why he can't get it to work. This sort of planning and forethought is what authors call 'a lucky accident'. Olga has agreed to stay on while he finds a replacement assistant. None of that stuff matters to this story but I might get paid by the word for it so it's staying. Chapter 1 I was relaxing in my study when Olga came in with the mail. Most of it's the usual junk but my ears pricked up when I heard I had a special letter. "It's from Stockholm?" she told me. "Sweden?" "Err, yes. That's the place," she said, frowning. "The Nobel Institute?" I asked, sitting up straight in my chair. "Yes it is from the Nobel Institute." I jump to my feet in excitement. It's not before time after all. I've been telling them for the past fifteen years how clever I am. They've never written back before. "Aha! They've finally recognised my genius. Oh God! I've got to remain calm." "Shall I open it?" "Yes! Yes! What does it say?" I can barely contain my excitement now. "It says 'Dear Dr Fruitcake. We represent the Nobel Prize Committee. We are pleased to inform you that you've got no chance you daft old faker'. It goes on but it's mostly insults after that." "Damn! When will they give me the honour I deserve? Fools! I'll destroy them all!" "And take over the world?" she asked wearily. "Yes of course, that as well. I've got several new plans." I slouched down again, my hopes dashed. It isn't fair. How can I call myself a respectable mad genius if my mantelpiece is entirely Nobel Prize free? I need something, apart from my Wile E. Coyote coffee mug, to put it. "There's a couple of other letters Doctor," she said. "Ok. What are they?" "One is a CV applying for the job as your new assistant. Claims to be only moderately strange. Works badly in a team, poor interpersonal skills, basically hates the entire universe, and its dog. Wants to further career and take over the world etc." "Sounds qualified. Dress size?" "Fourteen" "Excellent. Put it with the rest of them. The other one?" I asked. "Ooh! This one's from Transylvania. It looks like you have won a prize after all." "Prize?" "Yep, 'The Bonne-Idle prize for the Derangement of Science'. You've won the 'Most Pointlessly Convoluted Plan With No Chance Of Success' award. That's nice." She said. "Yes! I'm a winner!" "There's just one catch. The ceremony is on Saturday and you have to collect the prize from them in person." "Don't worry, just get packing," I told her. I've got a couple of days to get the arrangements sorted. Finally I'll going to get some recognition. I must start working on an acceptance speech. I need to get some clothes packed. I'm going for a couple of days. That means I need about fifty outfits. Oh! There's so little time. "Maybe I'll wear my black dress?" I muse. "You spilt acid on it remember?" "Damn. Right, it'll have to be the blue one." "Nope, not after your soldering iron went through it. Maybe you should just wear jeans while building doomsday devices?" she advised. "Maybe. Not only did I ruin the dress it hurt like merry hell. Green?" "No that's in one piece." "Great. That's settled," I decide. "You look awful in it though. If I was cruel I might say you look like a melon stuck in a vice." "But you did say that!" "I know," she said. "Bah. Red velvet it is then. Never fails to knock them out." "That's because you sewed that CS gas canister into the hem." "Well, a girl needs to be careful out these days," I said. "Doctor?" "Yes?" "Does this sound at all strange at all?" she wondered. "Strange?" I asked. "You ever heard of the Bonne-Idle Academy?" "Nope." "Or their prizes?" "Err, no," I said. "Ever felt like you're being lured into an intricate trap set by a bitter and malevolent enemy? I thought carefully for a moment. "No," I said. "Oh, fine then. I'll get on with sorting your clothes out." She flounced out. I wonder. Maybe it is a trap? Who would go to all this trouble though? I'm far too clever to fall for anything like that. Do they think I'm just going to pack up all my stuff and travel half way across Europe? Chapter 2 After traveling half way across Europe I can hardly believe it. I'm being driven in a carriage through mysterious, darkest, Transylvania. Well it is ten o'clock at night. Soon I'll have a fantastic prize in my well deserving hands. The hands, I might almost say, of a genius. Yes, I will say that. It's only the truth after all. These carriages are not that comfortable. It's rattling along, throwing me all over the place. I'm in serious danger of having my hair messed up. It's simply not on. You don't get this kind of back in Britain. Most transport doesn't move fast enough to mess up your hair. My trusty huge wooden trunk containing all my stuff is on the roof. It's secured with thick leather straps, very useful things around the home, garden and bedroom. I managed to compromise and only bring nine dresses. I still think I'll wear red though. It goes with my eyes; they're a bit bloodshot from too many late nights building my inventions. I've been working on my acceptance speech. I don't think it will last more than two or three hours. Best keep it short. I'll just explain some of my brilliant ideas and casually mention some of my plans to take over the world. I'm staying overnight at an inn. I hope the guy driving this thing knows where it is. He didn't look that clued up. He didn't even recognise me for God's sake. I had to pull a gun on him to make him to accept my autographed photo. These country people are so out of it. Give me the city any day. Well, the clothes shops anyway. You can keep the municipal dump, the insane asylum and the sewage works. Finally we've arrived. I realise this when I stop bouncing off the walls for more than ten seconds. "We're here Guvnor," said the black clad coachman. "Right. Err?" "Your bad accent?" I asked. "Strewth mate! I dunno what you mean my old china." "We're in Translyvania. Do I look like Mary bloody Poppins?" "Well? There is a slight resemblance now you mention it. Just give me a minute." I stare at my watch for a few seconds. It really is most annoying. Why can't these people get this sort of thing right? "Very well young master. We have arrived," he said. "That's better. Where?" "Here. Right by the inn you mentioned." "Ok." "Over there is an evil place they say. The locals call it The Castle of Doom! Ha! Ha! Ha!" "Bit of a long name," I said. "The sinister laugh is optional." "Fair enough. Now then my stupid friend, convey my accoutrements into this establishment and secure me some appropriate accommodation." "I don't think I can do that. I'll just take your stuff to your room for you instead." "Good enough," I told him. You just can't get decent local colour these days. I mean they might at least make a bit of an effort. I've come all this way after all. I strode inside behind him and marched up to the bar. The Innkeeper stood there glowering at me in a definite, 'We don't like talking to strangers round here' sort of way. "My card sir," I announce, trying to be cool. "Most impressive. The Queen of Diamonds! Welcome your Majesty!" "Damn. Wrong pocket. My real card sir," I said. "Ah. You'll be the English nutcase." "That's Nutcake, I mean Fruitcake," I insist. "Not what it says here. Look at the booking form." "Very well. Have it changed," I said. "At once your Majesty! I mean Sir." "Now tell me about the castle," I demanded. "The Castle of Doom?" he prompted. "Ha! Ha! Ha?" I asked. "That's the place. Oh you don't want to be going there your Lordship. Bad things happen there." "Says who?" I asked. He looked around him carefully, then tapped his nose significantly. "Can't be saying now your Eminence. We don't like talking to strangers round here." I knew it. "Go on," I told him. "Well, lots of funny things been happening in this village." "A circus? No, you said funny," I said. "People disappearing your Reverence. Lots of them! They've all been about your weight and height. About your age I'd say too. They've all been wearing your sort of clothes too." "Hmmm. What happened?" I asked. "Hard to say Keizer. They all came in here. I told em all not to go to the castle and I never saw any of them again." "Nonsense. I'm a man of mad science. I'm not frightened of ghosts." "They all said that too sir, before they died screaming in horrible agony that is. I could hear them from down here in the village. Horrible it was. Nearly put me right off my beer. I had to take up singing to drown out the noise." "Ah. Fair enough," I said. "Right you are then exalted one. By the way, I have to say this. Don't go to the castle tonight." "What's in there?" "They say the ghost of Queen Beatrice walks the place at nights when the moon is full. I can tell you something about her all right. It's a real secret it is sir." He winked at me and touched one finger to his eye. I don't know why he did that. Foreigners are funny. "What?" I asked him. He bent over close to me and whispered into my ear furtively. "She used to wear dresses Sir." "No! And?" "That's it Sir." "You bloody idiot!" "No, no. She had the finest wardrobe in Eastern Europe sir. Bought stuff from all over the world. Owned seventy-nine silk gowns for one thing," he said. "Ah! And?" "Well sir. When she died. Nobody ever found it sir. That's the legend, Sir. They say that up in the castle somewhere is the best collection of designer eveningwear and accessories ever assembled by woman. It's all been lost for over fifty years your Holiness." "Ah. That's very interesting. I might just pop in and have a look around while I'm passing the place," I mused. "Ever since sir. Hordes of vaguely effeminate looking men have been trying to find her lost treasure. Men a bit like you sir. Begging your honour's pardon sir. No insult intended to your Royal personage." "Oi!" I protested. "I'm sure a fine man like you would never dream of dragging a bunch of expensive dresses half way across Europe Sir." "Err, quite. This queen?" I asked. "Yes Professor?" "What size was she?" "Well sir. It's hard to say. The legends aren't that specific and sizes varied back then you know. I can't be certain mind but I've heard it said she was a twelve. That's her, Sir." He pointed at a picture on the wall. It showed a beautiful smiling woman in an amazing powder blue dress. Her long black hair cascaded in ringlets around her face. She wore an incredibly classy and expensive looking necklace and earrings. Her image smiled down at me. My imagination mentally superimposed my face over hers. "Hells bells! I have to go collect a prize tomorrow but I could just nip up there and have a look tonight. You know. In the interests of science I could just have a sort of wander round the place. Maybe dig up the floorboards and knock some walls down?" "Been done Master. Don't go to the castle Sir." "Don't be silly. Get my stuff back on that bloody wagon and wake up the driver. I'm not scared of ghosts. They don't exist." "Right you are squire." I ran out and climbed back into the carriage. The driver scowls at me, spits on the ground and curses me in some foreign tongue. Oaf! Doesn't he know it's only polite to take the trouble to insult people in their own language? This is very exciting. I bet I can find the lost dresses of Castle Doom. Seventy-nine dresses? That's eleven more than I've got at home. All in my size too. My God! It's like all my birthdays have come at once. And tomorrow, I get to collect a prize for being very clever indeed. It just keeps getting better. Chapter 3 The driver dropped me off and sped away, leaving me standing in front of the castle entrance. I'm next to my heavy wooden trunk and I'm holding a torch. I drag the trunk it towards the heavy wooden door and rested for a while after the effort. That thing weighs a ton. Surely clothes aren't that heavy? Still I brought quite a lot of them. It's an impressive place all right. It's dark and foreboding. It seems to exude an aura of menace and malice. I'm a mad scientist though. It's my kind of place. If there were some lingerie shops a bit closer I might even put an offer in on it. As I push the door open I hear an impressive creaking noise. Not an angry mob in sight and all alone in a dark, empty, castle. Excellent, it stirs the old mad scientist blood. The only torch nearby is electric too. My footsteps echo as I march across the floor of the hall. Where should I start looking? I don't have long to find the hidden clothes. Lots of other people have tried before. If you believe that idiot in the village many of them have died in agonising pain. Still, for seventy-nine dresses and all the earrings I can carry it might be worth it. I turn to close the door and catch sight of the full moon, starting to set. Hmmm, nice coincidence. I guess it's tonight that the old Queen wanders about and tries to scare people away from her wardrobe. It's lucky I don't believe in all that old nonsense. I search the gloomy ground floor for a while and don't find anything. There are a few empty boxes lying around and some impressive piles of rubbish. There's no sign at all of the fabled treasure. It must be here somewhere though and I mean to find it. I think I'll start upstairs and work down. There's probably a secret passage somewhere. I bet I just have to pull on a candlestick and a door will open. I climb the imposing staircase. I'm feeling glad that I didn't wear my heels. At the top of the stairs I can see down a long corridor into the gloom. At the end of the room is a window. Outlined against it I can just make out a shadowy figure. Must be some old clothes on a chair. Yes, it's got to be. There's no such thing as ghosts. I am not afraid. I start off down the corridor. That pile of old clothes really does look scary. If I didn't know better I'd swear it's the ghostly figure of a woman wearing a long dress and pointing at me accusingly. Ha! How silly is that? I carry on walking. That illusion is very good. I can nearly swear that the woman in the picture is at the end of the corridor, waiting to pounce on me. I keep walking. It's just stupid. Ghosts don't exist. I know they don't. This is all nonsense. When I get to within five feet of her I hold my torch up. I can see her now. It is a woman in a blue dress. It's the woman in the picture. That means it must be a, one of those things that don't exist. Oh no! "Help! It's a ghost! I've found the old Queen!" I screamed. I decide to use the self-defense skills that have always stood me in good stead. I turn round and try to run away. Something solid and heavily non- ghostly hits me in the back of the head. I start to pass out. I hear her gloating. "Aha! I've found you, you old Queen!" Then I fell over and the world went away for a little while. Chapter 4 I woke to find myself tied down on what looks to be very much like a rack. I find I'm now wearing my red velvet evening dress. How did that happen? Well. There's a rational explanation for everything. No, that's not right. What about the Eurovision Song Contest? The bang on the head has given me a headache. I'm not in a good mood. Only my designer clothes are keeping me in check. I can't risk damaging another dress. They laugh at me behind my back when I take them in to be repaired. The ghostly woman walks into the room and stands in front of me. She put her hands on her hips and laughed at me. "So! We meet again!" She said. "I don't think we've been properly introduced." "You English. Perhaps you recognise me now." She pulled off her wig and highly realistic facemask. "You!" I shouted. I struggled to get up. The bonds are too tight. "That's right Fruitcake. I've got you this time. You are in my castle, and my power." "Doctor Annoying!" I said, loudly. "The same. Though I'm changing my name to Doctor Really Quite Nasty." "It suits you, as does the dress." "Thanks. I knew you'd fall for it. It's all been a set up you fool. There is no prize. I paid the man in the village. I hired the coachman etc. etc." "Not the treasure as well?" I asked. Please don't let that be a hoax as well. "No, that bit is true." "Thank God for that. Gloat if you must then," I told him. "I will. You have fallen into an intricate trap set by a bitter and malevolent enemy. This time I shall be the winner!" "That Olga is smarter than she looks," I said. "Silence!" "Ooh! I'm having a psychic moment. It's coming. Wait a minute. No! I've got it. You're going to, and stop me if you've heard this already, take over the world!" "Damn! You guessed. This time my plan cannot fail." "Rubbish!" "I suppose you'd like me to explain my entire scheme in excruciating detail now?" "Yes. I think so," I said. "Telling you exactly how I got here and what I'm going to do?" he prompted. "It's the usual thing at times like this." "While you struggle to free yourself with some handily placed industrial grade welding apparatus?" "Ideally, yes," I told him. "I suppose it's only fair." A click of his fingers produces a uniformed servant from the shadows. The uniform consists of a faded T-shirt with a badly printed logo saying 'RQN' in big letters. Underneath I can see 'Taking Over The World Tour' in smaller type. The man wheels in the heavy gas cylinders and places them next to me. I wait while he politely lights the torch and hands it to me, first setting it to a very hot flame. I'll say one thing for Nasty. The guy knows the rules. "It all started a while ago. You will remember that the police were after me. I was a hunted man." "Yes. I remember that. Murder?" I suggested. "Much worse. I had an unpaid parking fine hanging over me. With Interpol closing in. I knew I was doomed." "So?" I asked. "I decided I needed a disguise. So I kidnapped a top fashion model. Then I stole her clothes and took her place. You may have seen her? On the cover of 'Big Breasted Babes for Inadequate Losers' for example." "No, I only buy 'Nature', 'What Doomsday Device?' and 'Marie Claire'," I told him. "Good call. Where was I? Oh yes. It didn't quite work out as I'd expected," he said. "I knew it. I bet you didn't find it that easy to pass for a beautiful and seductive temptress with impressively up front assets?" "No. That was no trouble. It turned out she had three unpaid parking tickets. They called in the Marines. I was, like, ever so slightly unhappy. I broke two nails climbing into my escape helicopter. I ruined a perfectly good mini skirt as well." "Now you know the kind of hazards we power crazed, female impersonating, mad scientists have to face every day," I assured him. "Shut up. Anyway, I decided I needed a new disguise. "What happened to the model?" "Escaped and ran off with my assistant," he said. I start to laugh. All this stuff has happened to me before. It really is a familiar story. "Shut it. Have you got anywhere with those yet?" He asked. "No, it's slow going on these manacles. Do carry on." "Thank you. When I heard about this place I decided to make use of the old legend for my own evil purposes." "Yeah, yeah," I said, yawning. "It was perfect. I was able to lure you here by means of your own insane greed for female clothing." "Fine." "Even now the risk of damage to your evening dress prevents you from struggling too badly. You're a prisoner of your own longing for co- ordinated eveningwear. Ha Ha!" He laughed. "This is getting dull. Get to the point. What's the plan?" "The plan? Oh yes, that. Now I have you out of the way. I shall take over the world. You're going to help me." "Me? How?" "That's the really amusing bit. I'll get to that later. My plan is complex, improbable and entirely new. I intend, no I can hardly help myself." He sets off laughing to himself for at least three minutes. I use the time to attack the metal holding me. The torch isn't cutting through it properly. Damn! "Now. The plan is this. I shall?" He starts laughing again. This could take all night. Eventually he composes himself again. "I'm ready now. I shall take over the world by means of my chain of exclusive beauty salons!" "Fiend!" I shouted. "That's right. Once I have demonstrated my techniques people will flock to my salons. I shall make them young again." "Right." "In four or five years time I shall be so popular everyone will demand that I become their leader. Then, after a reasonable pause for proper consultation and the like, I shall take over the world." "It's a stupid and insane plan. Damn! It just might work," I exclaim. "You think so? Drat! With your track record that's like the kiss of death. Did you get anywhere with the welder?" "Nope." "Didn't expect you to. Time's up," he said. "Bah! Anyway you have to prove your ideas work." "I'm glad we got to that. That's your job. I shall experiment on you. If I can make you pretty then I can do it for anybody." "Bitch!" I yelled. "I am ready for the first treatment now. You may think you're strapped into an ordinary medieval torture rack." "It crossed my mind." "In fact you are really in my patent hair straightening device," he gloated. "No!" "Yes! We clamp your feet like so. We attach your hair to this post. Then we operate the rack and stretch you thus. Bingo! The hair is straightened. Often it's fatally straightened but it's only a prototype." "Ah. Does it hurt at all?" "Good question. Apparently they can hear the screams in the village," He said. "Oh. I wondered what was making people do that. Aaaaaaaieeeeee!" I scream in pain as he tightens the rack, nearly pulling my hair out by it roots. "Look it's working. Your hair is straighter already!" he shouted. "You swine!" I screamed. "We need to do something about the colour too and your weight." "Do you expect me to talk?" I asked him. "No Doctor. I expect you to diet." He turns the wheel again and I scream again. This is worse than being back at school. Girls used to pull my hair all the time. Just because I wore their clothes and stole their underwear. Some people are so touchy. Small-minded simpletons have blighted my entire life. Often it's been in the ladies' changing rooms or at the lingerie counter in expensive shops. But one day I shall have my revenge! He twists again and I mercifully pass out. Chapter 5 I have a major league headache. In fact it could be heading for the championship with a near perfect batting average. I check to make sure my hair is still on my head. It seems to all be there. God! That's painful. What a diabolical device! The fool thinks small though. How is he going to destroy London with that? It doesn't even have a big red self-destruct button or a countdown timer. He'll never get that into 'Readers Bombs' like I did with mine. Call him a mad scientist? He's a rank amateur. He didn't even have a dirty lab coat on over his dress. Where's the acid burns? He's nowhere at this game. At least I'm off the rack now and I'm in a small room. I'm alone for about ten minutes. As I study the walls two men enter the room and drag me out. "So. We've done your hair. Now for the complexion." "Oh it's fine. Is that the time? It's been really nice to meet you again but. You know how it is. Got to run. Bye!" I break away from the men and make a run for it. They're too quick for me and grab my arms again. I watch helplessly as a large vat is lowered from the ceiling on chains. It lands on the ground in front of me. There is a bubbling brown mass inside it. "What the hell is that?" "It's the patent Really Quite Nasty Red Hot Rejuvenating Mud Bath." "The RQNRHRMB?" "That's right." "I thought I was bad at names," I told him. He gestured at the men. "You, throw this stupid fool into the RQNRHRMB." "The what boss?" The man asked. "The bloody hot bath for short." "The SB into the BHF? Right Sir!" "No that's wrong. It should be throw the SF into the BHB. Oh sod it! Just throw him in the whatsit and let's all go for a beer. Life's too short," said Nasty. I sympathise with him just a little. Competent evil henchmen aren't easy to find. They both swing me and let go. I follow a graceful arc into the vat of mud. He's right. It's hot. "Aaaaaaaieeeeee!" It's very hot "Hot enough for you?" He taunted. "Curse you! You've destroyed another of my best outfits. You'll suffer for this," I scream. "Here's a towel for if, when, you come out." I'm getting more used to the temperature now. I try to keep quiet. I want him to know he's not getting to me. "That old thing? I mean you must have got your moneys' worth out of it by now." "Bastard!" Now he's getting to me. "That dress cost me two hundred quid." "In old money?" he taunts. "Bah!" "I love this plan. I had the idea while I was learning to be a model. There's lots of free time sitting around. It gives you an excellent chance to concoct evil plans to take over the world. I'm surprised more of them don't do it." "Look. I've heard your bloody plan. Now stop carping on about it. If anyone is going to take over the world it's going to be me. I've already marked it down in my diary. March 15th: Buy milk. March 16th: Take over world. Right?" "We'll see." He stormed out. I think I got to him there in the end. No, that's a lie. I climb out of the mud after a struggle against surface tension and my own unfitness. This dress really is going to take some cleaning. I'll get him for that. I've got to think of something. I can't take many more of these beauty treatments. I could easily end up dying of acute prettiness. Not a good way to go. Though it seems appropriate somehow. They've locked me in this room and there doesn't seem to be much I can do. I look around for the everyday bits and pieces that will allow me to build a silly and extravagant means of escape. There must be a stick of dynamite or a portable blast furnace somewhere in here. I start to search the place. I can't find anything! This is intolerable. I've been locked in a room with no easy way out. There's no key in the lock. There's no secret passageway. There's no complete metalworking shop hidden behind a curtain. Ah. There is a rather stupid guard standing outside. I bang on the door. "You there. Come in here a minute," I shouted. "Shut up!" "Come on in so I can catch you unawares and knock you unconscious before escaping." "What?" he asked. "Damn! I want you to come in here so I can escape." "Why?" "Oh don't be obtuse man. Come on here and help me with this zip." "No!" he said, firmly. "Right. I'm feeling really poorly. Ouch! My stomach! You have to come in here and find out what's wrong. I think I'm going to pass out." "It's probably something you ate. Lie down for a bit." "I'm getting rather upset by this. All I want is to lure you in here on an obvious pretext so I can hit you with a candlestick." "You haven't got a candlestick," said the genius outside. "It's a metaphorical stick. Any kind of blunt instrument will do." "Do they hurt? You can't beat a good clubbing in my book." "Oh shut up!" Unfortunately I seem to have found a guard too stupid to fall for any of the usual routines. It really does look like I'm stuck in here. I sit down and wait. Chapter 6 Some time later the door opens and Nasty and his grinning henchmen walk in. I suggest he finds the stupid guard some more suitable employment like counting seashells or being the leader of a major political party. After a bit more verbal cut and thrust they drag me to another room. "You're going to like this one," he assures me. "I hated the others. Look at this dress. That mud will never come out you know." "Oh well. It'll be different this time," he insists. "Better?" "Different." "Ah!" I said. "I think it's time we did something about your weight." "Oh my God. Don't tell me you've got a reducing ray?" I said. "Nope." "A turbo powered atomic 'shrink-o-matic' device?" "No," he said. "Then I've got it. You've invented food with negative calories. Diabolical!" "No. It's not that." "Ok Nasty. What is it?" I demand. "It's called a Gymnasium. You're going to do some exercise." "Oh no!" I wailed. The henchman pulls back the curtain to reveal a full set of exercise machines. I gaze on it with abject horror. "You know I've spent my whole life avoiding physical activity, I said, pleading. "Exactly!" "You fiendish swine." "Yep." "Evil twisted diabolical madman!" I shouted. "I like the sound of that. Can I use it?" My next suggestions were received with less favour. Several of them were anatomically impossible and the others were just obscene. One of the men starts to chase me round the equipment. I spent the next hour in frantic physical exertion. It felt even worse than the time I made a typo in my ransom demand and threatened to destroy London unless they paid me one million hounds. "Now then. It's time for you to dress for dinner so I can mock you further in a pointlessly civilised way, as mad scientists always do." "You've ruined most of my outfits." I told him. "I know. You must have something left though. You bought enough clothes for a small country." "Bah!" They drag me to yet another room. I'm getting really tired of being dragged along the floor like a handbag with a very long strap. Soon I shall put my clever plan into action and escape. Step one is to create the clever plan. Step two is to do what I just said. Maybe tomorrow would be better? They throw me into the room where I find my massive trunk of clothes. I rummage around in it and find my spare black dress. It's always been my motto that every woman should have ten or twenty little black dresses in her wardrobe. Having removed most of the mud and changing my clothes I manage to retouch my make-up. I feel much better. When they come in again I refuse to be dragged and walk out in front of them with my head in the air. They're not going to drag Jane Norman's finest along the ground. Barbarians! Chapter 7 We are seated at opposite ends of a table that must be twenty yards long. The only other people present are henchmen. Some of them are serving food, ineptly. Others stand and glare at me. Some have guns they keep waving them around and pointing at me. It's so stereotypical. It makes me want to run off, set up a secret base in some extinct volcano and take over the world. Nasty picks up his wineglass and raises it towards me. "To your health." I pick up my glass and down the contents in one gulp. "Get stuffed, madman." My glass is refilled for me by one of the hovering men. "Now then. This is the point where I get to do the unrestrained gloating." "Boring! Just tell me one thing." "What?" "You don't need that disguise any more. So why are you still dressed as a woman?" "Well. I don't know how to say this but I'm kind of used to it now. I like it." "There's only room in this town for one cross dressing, power mad, twisted, demented, hopelessly incompetent mad scientist with no boyfriend or prospects. And that's me!" Oh damn. There goes my big mouth again I tell myself. "I couldn't put it better myself. But I do have a boyfriend." "No!" "Yes! He should be here but he's working late again." Damn. He's put one over on me again. It's time to get my own back. We state at each other fixedly. The food is brought in. I am going to have to sit here and eat while Nasty gloats. I can't stand it. I must do something. What can I do though? Midway through the soup there's a huge crash as a man flies into the room through a window. He stands up and brushes pieces of broken glass off his dinner jacket. My face lights up. Maybe I'm about to be rescued by a handsome secret agent? "I've got a bloody doorbell you know!" swuted Nasty. "That's three times this week." "Quiet you two," said the intruder. "Who are you?" I asked. "Well Madam. I am Agent Blake of the DGSMSADD!" "The DGSMSADD? Not another one with no idea about names?" "Silence Fruitcake! We of the Do-Gooders Stopping Mad Scientists and Doomsday Devices will finish you off this time." "Prepare to die you window smashing fool!" screamed Nasty. I put my head in my hands; all this melodrama is getting too much for me. I raise my head at the sound of the opposite window crashing in. Another man gets up and brushes the broken glass from his dirty raincoat. "Hold everything. I am Inspector Metre. Metre of the Yard!" he shouted. "Scotland Yard!" I exclaim. All the henchmen panic and run out of the room. "Ah, people often think that," he chuckles to himself. "I've just got a big garden you see." "What the hell is going on?" demanded Nasty. "Sorry Miss. You see I've been after this little villain for a while. Finally I tracked him down to this place and came here to make an arrest." "What for?" "Well he claims to be a member of a society dedicated to stopping evil mad scientists from taking over the world." "The very idea!" I said, pouting. "In fact it turns out this is only a cover for his other activities. He's really the front man for a chain of sadistic double glazing manufacturers." "The broken windows!" Nasty said. "That's right Miss. He won't be breaking any more windows for a while. Not after he falls down the stairs on his way to the police station." "Oh!" "Right. I'll leave you two enchanting ladies to whatever you had planned tonight." "Actually officer we're two evil mad scientists scheming to take over the world." "Ha! Of course Miss, who isn't? Well, I'll be seeing you." He leaves the room, dragging his prisoner by the hair. It looks nearly as bad as that rack Nasty had me in. "Aren't our policemen wonderful?" I said, dreamily. "It's the man in uniform effect I think". "Not the ones who chase bloody traffic tickets," he replied. We resume our places, sitting staring at each other. Nasty produces a gong from under the table and hits it. The noise sounds loudly and clearly. After a couple of minutes two of his men enter the room, dragging my heavy trunk. "What are you doing?" "Well Fruitcake. It occurs to me that even someone who carries the ridiculous amount of clothes, you do, doesn't need a trunk that big." "So?" "So it appears to my superior mad scientist intellect that there may be a secret compartment in it." "And?" "I intend to find out what it is you are hiding from me. Then my victory, and your humiliation, will be complete." "There's nothing in it." "Nonsense." He crosses over to the trunk and bends over it. He crawls round it, inspecting it carefully. Then he squints through the keyhole. "Aha!" The metal surrounding the keyhole moves as he twists it. There is a loud click from within the case. "Got you!" he shouts. His moment of triumph is short lived. The case opens widely and a figure bursts out and stands before us. It's my trusty old robot. No wonder the damn trunk was so heavy. It makes sense now. I'm really pleased to see her. "Doctor. Do you need assistance?" "Well I wouldn't mind," said Nasty. "Not you!" I tell him. "How did you get here?" "Well," Olga said, "You might be in danger so I hid in the secret part of your trunk." "Excellent!" "You haven't won yet Fruitcake!" "Don't cross her Nasty. She's loaded with weapons. She's got a razor sharp fashion sense. She can slag off a dodgy outfit at fifty yards." "You and your mechanical madam don't scare me!" "Right. I did warn you." I take cover behind a chair as the two size each other up. The robot is way too fast for him. I cover my eyes as the deadly machine moves in for the kill. "That dress is so you. It's ugly and unappealing," said my robot. Zap! The full force of the insult makes Nasty stagger back. "I had one like it myself before I lost weight and gained some self- respect." Pow! Nasty took another full hit and edges backward more. "Wait!" he shouted. "Too late, you're finished!" I shouted back. "If you paid money for that hairstyle you were robbed," said the robot. Splat! He takes another step backwards, towards the trunk. "Cheap and tacky is in this season anyway." Kerrang! He steps backwards again, hits the trunk and falls in. There is a muffled yell as the robot slams and locks the lid. "Well I think that just about wraps it up. All we've got to do now is find the treasure and go back home in style." "I will split it with you. I always need more clothes" "You're a girl robot after my own heart. But I get first pick. My wardrobe's taken a real battering lately," I tell her. My trusty robot can use her scanners. We'll find those hidden dresses easily. Then we can go home. I take another gulp of wine. I kick the trunk, just for fun. Chapter 8 We make a triumphant entrance to the lab. The robot puts the trunk down on the floor. I can hear faint banging and shouting coming from inside it. "Who's that?" asked Olga. "An old friend. I think I'll keep him in there for a while. He can be a conversation piece. Shame about his conversation but never mind." "So you didn't get the prize." She asked. "No. It was all an intricate trap set by a bitter and malevolent enemy." "Aha. I told you so!" she gloated. "Boo! But I did get a stack of nice clothes. Hooray!" "Well. I'm glad you're happy," she said. "Yep. But I still haven't taken over the world," I said. She put her arm around my shoulder and tried to comfort me. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll get it right eventually," she said, helpfully. "I brought you a present though." "Oh goody! What is it?" she asked. "Something I found in his lab. It's an interesting and rather special type of clock?" I pull out a black cube from my bag. "It's got a big red button and a countdown timer on it. It seems to have stopped though," I said. I shake the clock repeatedly to no effect. I turn it over and examine it carefully. "Doctor, it's a bomb!" "Bomb? No it can't be. I'd know. I've been making them since I was seven." "It is a bomb! Put it down!" "I see the trouble. You have to press this lever here." "Oh No!" said Olga. The clock starts ticking. I put it down and put my fingers in my ears. The End.

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IN THE MORNING, Steven helped load the raft with melons, and then asked how he could get across. The melon farmer showed him how to build a raft like his own. When it was finished, it was obvious that the raft was much too big for Steven’s meager belongings, so the melon farmer suggested that they load Steven’s raft with melons as well. When they were finished, two rafts were loaded with melons and ready to cross the river with Steven’s belongings wedged into a tiny corner of one raft. The...

3 years ago
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My New Step Sisters Whos the Winner

1 year later: I walked out of prison, a changed young man. I did not want to go back. I took a taxi back to my house. My Dad had remarried while I was serving time. I missed the wedding. He told me she was very nice. She had two daughters by another marriage. He was happy to have them staying at his big house. He fixed up a small room in the basement for me. It was behind the laundry room. He gave the two girls my big room upstairs. I told him I understood. I was just happy to have a home...

4 years ago
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My New Step sisters Whos the Winner

I seemed to always be in trouble growing up. It was no surprise that my parents divorced over my bad behavior. When most k**s were going to college, after high school. I was in the back of a bus, going to prison. I was sentenced for stealing a few cars. 25 to be exact. All over one weekend. I got off the prison bus and headed inside. With good behavior, I could get out in a year.1 year later:I walked out of prison, a changed young man. I did not want to go back. I took a taxi back to my house....

3 years ago
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Prize WinnerChapter 6

Elizabeth and Ellen both felt my tension. They were anxious too. And why not. They had bent over backwards to assist me in any way they could. Yet, even worse, they had to wait until I returned tomorrow sometime to get any hint of success or failure. Finally it was time and I was dressed. Jennifer showed up on time and came up to the door. My boutonniere was in my lapel and I had her corsage in my hand. She was wearing a formal dress but it was sleek and sexy. I couldn't complain about the...

3 years ago
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Handyman Candys Cabana

This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If you're not both of those, don't read it. Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe. The fictional characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt. If you think you know somebody...

2 years ago
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Nandhini Chechi Breastfed And Got Fucked

Dear sexstory friends, this is Rajesh presently working in Bangalore in an MNC and I would like to share my past experiences with you people. I am a 38 years old horny man with a slightly big cock of 8 inches and satisfied many girls and Aunties from past 20 years. Any unsatisfied girls, Ladies and widows can feel free to chat with me on The incident happened when I was 18 years old and studying PUC in Bangalore, when a new Malayali neighbours occupied the vacant house next to our home. They...

1 year ago
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Heather and Candace PART ONE

So there I was. Detention. As usual. Girls like me ended up there a lot. I'm your stereotypical punk rock fuck up, a troublemaker. And so at 3:38, as usually, I was in room 204, Detention. I sat there looking down at homework, pretending I was doing it. Just then, Heather Sanchez, the feisty Hispanic homecoming queen came waltzing through the door. She took a seat down next to me, and I gave her a shocked look. I mean, who'd imagine that the perfect teenage girl would end up next to me? There...

Lesbian
2 years ago
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Andrea Andy and Me

(MMF, wife sharing) At the time I write this story Andrea, (My wife) is 36 years old, and quite a knockout. She's always been into bodybuilding and has been a runner since she was a k**. With all of the attention that she has given herself, it really shows. At her age she still has a hard body, and a deep rich "California Girl" tan. Her chestnut hair is beautiful. And her dark brown eyes seem to see right through me sometimes. My Andrea is a beautiful "self made" woman that any man would be...

2 years ago
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Gorgeous Indian Chechi Nandhini fed me her excess

Nandhini Chechi fed me her excess breast milk and surrendered her pussy to my 8” cock.Dear friends, this is Rajesh presently working in Bangalore in an MNC and I would like to share my past experiences with you people. I am a 38 years old horny man with a slightly big cock of 8 inches and satisfied many girls and Aunties from past 20 years. Any unsatisfied girls, Ladies and widows can feel free to chat with me on [email protected] The incident happened when I was 18...

3 years ago
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Becoming Brandee Chapter 14

Disclaimer: This chapter, like all chapters of the Brandee series is intended for adults only. Additionally, no part of this story may be reproduced without the permission of the author. Becoming Brandee Chapter Fourteen: It was almost a year since I had been transformed from smart independent CD girl, Jenni, into sweet dumb and adorable bimbo, Brandee. It was also Halloween and the final evening performance of my promotional tour being staged back where it all started, the...

3 years ago
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Andee Plays a New Version of Around the World

Andee felt a little reluctant as she stared at the calendar hanging on her kitchen wall. Scribbled in among her children’s sports and music lessons were the pending dates of her fall travel schedule again. At one time, she loved the idea of jetting off for a few days every month to another distant location for business, easily slipping into her professional role as a career woman on the move; but this time around, she felt a little hesitant.Of course, a big part of her reluctance was a direct...

Wife Lovers
4 years ago
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Andee Plays a New Version of Around the World

Andee felt a little reluctant as she stared at the calendar hanging on her kitchen wall. Scribbled in among her children’s sports and music lessons were the pending dates of her fall travel schedule again. At one time, she loved the idea of jetting off for a few days every month to another distant location for business, easily slipping into her professional role as a career woman on the move; but this time around, she felt a little hesitant.Of course, a big part of her reluctance was a direct...

Wife Lovers
3 years ago
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Andee Poses For A College Art Class

There weren’t many people in Andee’s day-to-day life that knew about her naughty little secret. Even though she had been posing on an adult website for over twelve years, she had managed to keep it under wraps for the most part; and the people to whom she did disclose the information fell into two categories: intimate friends and persons of seductive interest.Her good friend Bella – a wild one in her own right – was someone Andee had entrusted with the knowledge. In fact, Bella had often played...

Wife Lovers
2 years ago
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Andee Poses For A College Art Class

There weren’t many people in Andee’s day-to-day life that knew about her naughty little secret. Even though she had been posing on an adult website for over twelve years, she had managed to keep it under wraps for the most part; and the people to whom she did disclose the information fell into two categories: intimate friends and persons of seductive interest.Her good friend Bella – a wild one in her own right – was someone Andee had entrusted with the knowledge. In fact, Bella had often played...

Wife Lovers
4 years ago
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Andee Learns Just What Stays in Vegas

Andee carefully removed the letter from the envelope. She had just come home from work to find it placed on her pillow, plainly marked "Just For You." She knew it was from her husband, as he had departed on his business trip earlier that day. And, as he often did, he had some scheme cooked up to add a little excitement to her life. This time the plan was for her to travel to meet him at the end of his trip in Las Vegas. He was attending a trade show and managed to get an extra flight. What she...

Wife Lovers
4 years ago
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Fernanda Teenage Lust

I had just finished my first year of college and my mom and dad insisted that I go with them on a quick summer trip to visit one of mom’s old college buddies in Austin, Texas. Normally, I don’t mind such gatherings, but for some reason or another, Austin just didn’t appeal to me. I had been there many years before and didn’t find the city attractive. When we arrived, there were the customary hugs and greetings- since our family is Hispanic. (You have to love a culture that embraces hugging!) I...

First Time
3 years ago
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Andee Returns to Las Vegas

Andee settled in for another flight. Her new job had been taking her all over the place the past few months, but the light was almost at the end of the tunnel. This trip to Las Vegas would be the last for the year. The other bonus is that she only had to spend a couple days on her own, as her husband had managed to make some changes to his own plans and would meet her for a bit of an extended weekend. The last time they had been together in Sin City, things had been … interesting. It was a...

2 years ago
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Andee Returns to Las Vegas Chapter 2

Andee smiled as she read the text message on her phone. Before breakfast, she had sent a somewhat vague note to her friend from the night before about wanting to try Roulette again, wondering if he might interpret the suggested sexual undertones – especially after the enthusiastic round of sex from the night before. She thought for a moment, wondering just how acquainted she wanted to get with Connor. It seemed her “one-night stands” in her sexual adventure were more like weekend-long affairs,...

Wife Lovers
3 years ago
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Andee Returns to Las Vegas

Andee settled in for another flight. Her new job had been taking her all over the place the past few months, but the light was almost at the end of the tunnel. This trip to Las Vegas would be the last for the year. The other bonus is that she only had to spend a couple days on her own, as her husband had managed to make some changes to his own plans and would meet her for a bit of an extended weekend. The last time they had been together in Sin City, things had been ... interesting. It was a...

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