Created on the Day the CDA was Signed into Law itÕs...
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 100
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bottoms in Bondage
Chapter One
ÒDid--?Ó I felt like a heel asking it. ÒDid he say anything about
me?Ó But she just cried softly, then stopped after a bit. I was beginning
to wiggle with very GREAT need, my ass cheeks perpetually clenched now,
my thighs pressed tightly together as if I were some little girl in
kindergarten waiting in line for the potty.
ÒDo not squirm so, dear. I ache from all the merciless fucking. God,
it feels like they went so deep and hard, so many of them, my internal
organs feel all jumbled up...youÕre making it worse!Ó
ÒI-I cannot hold it!Ó I cried suddenly, absorbed in my own need.
ÒYes, pee darling, if it will stop your squirming,Ó Sandra urged me.
ÒEeek!Ó a voice somewhere behind cried. ÒYouÕre PEEING on her!Ó
ÒShhh!Ó a second reprimanded. Both female. Both young.
ÒOoops! Hide! Here he comes!Ó One to the other. A scuttling sound.
A closet opened, closed.
ÒWell, I see at least they blindfolded you!Ó a manÕs voice bellowed.
He sounded big and hairy. With surefooted steps he came into the room.
ÒGood morning, dear. May I get up and fix you some coffee?Ó Sandra
asked him. I pretended to be asleep. It must, I thought, be SandraÕs
husband. His dominion over me during the night washed back into my
brain, making me tremble. I had humbled myself to the level of his
complete and total slave. IÕd even abandoned my own master. Or heÕd been
unable to protect me. Yes. I remembered it all now. Could such awful
things really have happened to me? A throb in my bottom. Yes, yes they
had. Good God! And now IÕd just wet the bed, urinated on the woman
beneath me. I could not feel the wet spot, for my bottom was lofted high
by pillows. It jutted out beyond all else the cushions held up, arranged
that way, for immediate and unconditional fucking by whoever might enter
the room.
ÒMaster? Is that you?Ó I blurted. Ah, I should have feigned sleep.
So easy with a blindfold. Yet IÕd spoken anyway.
ÒIt is me, and I am looking for two little mice,Ó he replied. ÒRose,
and her high-minded companion Linda. The cops apparently got called
away just after I brought my wife in here, leaving those two behind with
the run of the entire house. Kitty should have controlled them. But the
bitch went out dancing! She had no male cops, and couldnÕt get in here, so
she left! She will burn in a private Hell built specially for her if I ever
get hold of her,Ó my new Master vowed.
ÒPlease let me up, dear,Ó my Mistress below begged.
ÒNever!Ó SandraÕs husband replied. ÒYou are going to remain tied
there for many hours, perhaps days, let up only when I wish it. And you
will be repeatedly fucked until your belly swells up with a child. There
will be no pregnancy test kits used here.Ó He laughed. ÒThough you may,
indeed, pee quite a lot in the coming days, for your mouth seems perfectly
positioned to receive whatever I wish to pour into it. I have only to pinch
shut your nostrils.Ó He turned, stamped about the room. I half-expected
to hear two little voices call out, ÒYouÕll never find us!Ó but they didnÕt.
Perhaps this game of hide-and-seek was not all just for fun.
SandraÕs husband stomped out. To help ensure his success in finding
the girls, he locked the bedroom door behind him. Locking us in. We were
indeed his sex slaves. Tied, our cunnies offered up. A thrill seized me.
And yet I did not wish to be here. There was a scent of real danger lurking
here, in the tread of SandraÕs husband upon the floor, in the way he seemed
to regard us as property...to be used and disposed of.
There was a slow sliding sound, as of a closet door opening.
Footsteps approached. Softly, cautiously. There was a shifting of the bed.
Knees kneed. Hands suddenly leapt upon me. Small, soft hands.
ÒQuick! Untie them!Ó a voice commanded. LindaÕs voice. The hands
slipped up my arms to my wrists.
ÒHelp me do it, then!Ó It was Rose. I felt a tug at my bonds. I
realized Rose must be the one who was trying to undo me. Linda was
playing supervisor. It was in her nature.
Rose struggled with my bonds at the headboard, hoping to free them.
Mistress shifted below me. I sensed LindaÕs knees rising, her feet planted
themselves firmly upon the bed. She was standing up now. Standing up to
break open mistressÕ handcuffs. Perhaps she had found the key, intrepid
girl. I imagined her arms lifted, her breasts jiggling freely between them,
soft yet youthfully firm, well appointed with twin nipples. And her ass,
jutting behind her, looking moonish as she stood flatfooted on the bed.
Master would truss her up just like that, and whip her passionately, if he
returned, I guessed.
ÒDonÕt break your nails, darlings,Ó Mistress sighed below us.
ÒWeÕll try not to,Ó guileless Rose replied.
ÒWe are NOT just playing!Ó Linda said tersely to Mistress from
somewhere above my head. ÒYour husband plans to impregnate us all!Ó
ÒEven me?Ó I blurted suddenly. I feel alarmed at the prospect of
being a mother at 15. Or, worse, being spermed just so some man could
get off watching me have an abortion!
ÒYes, of course! You especially,Ó Linda replied to me. My stomach
felt like a stone had just dropped into it. My knees felt weak. Splayed
apart and weak-kneed, my wrists still wrapped up at the headboard, I was
in the perfect position for it. All he had to do was shove himself in and
ply his rod back and forth until he came.
ÒBut you and me too!Ó Rose announced, in her high-pitched, childish
voice, talking to Linda. At the headboard she worked to free me, a girl
scout learning knots. How to UNtie them, just the opposite of what those
naughty boy scouts learned. ÒOh, please hurry,Ó I thought to myself.
ÒBefore we three get tangled up in motherhood, courtesy of SandraÕs
husband! (For poor Sandra, it was already too late!)
ÒWe read all about it in his notes, down in that revolting basement!Ó
Linda half-screamed, then remembered to speak softly, seemed to hunch
lower.
ÒYes, his Ôexercise room,Õ for girls and women,Ó Rose added. ÒWe
read that too, in his notes.Ó
ÒHow did you two girls get down there?Ó Sandra asked, her voice a
mixture of amusement and alarm.
ÒWe snuck all over!Ó Linda said.
ÒYes, all over. And we found the bathroom too,Ó Rose said firmly.
ÒA REAL bathroom, with a real potty in it.Ó Sandra sighed below me,
seemed embarrassed, said nothing.
ÒGet my blindfold off!Ó I implored. Someone. Anyone.
ÒSorry about that,Ó Rose said. ÒWe had to pretend to obey.Ó I felt
her hands leave my wrists. Then they were in my hair at the back of my
head. There was a loosening of the blindfold and suddenly it was gone.
ÒOh, thankyou! At last I can see again!Ó I exclaimed.
ÒShhh!Ó Linda admonished me, standing over me, her bush displayed
to my eyes as I lifted them to observe her. Like ripe fruit at summer, up
in a tree, her breasts showed their curved, weighted undersides to me. Big
and firm. With nipples that were stiff from our shared excitement. Our
emergency. We must escape SandraÕs husband before he returns!
I glanced up at my still-captive wrists at the headboard. ÒBreak a
leg, or a nail!Ó I scolded Rose. I was peeved at her for blindfolding me.
Yet I realized I would have done the same to please Master. Or to appease
him. Why did I still call him Master? He would be Daddy if we didnÕt
hurry.
ÒAh, at last!Ó I said a few moments later as Rose got me free at last.
For a moment I just looked at mistress, wishing in part that she remained
confined to the bed until He returned. Above me I heard a jangling. I
looked up and saw that Linda, somewhat Òput out,Ó was having to go
through a whole ring of keys, trying each one, in order to unlock Mistress.
Mistress, Sandra, my mind alternated so in my thinking of her. She
was both my companion and...something more. A girlfriend, yet a kind of
chaperone too. Though of what quality I wasnÕt sure. I rolled off her
reluctantly. Somewhere inside me IÕd wanted to just lie there and kiss
her, wait for Master, wait for him to come back and find us all naked and
naughty.
ÒPlease hurry!Ó Sandra implored Linda. She at least had finally
decided to flee. ÒOh, God, I wish I could remember which key it is, staring
at them all like this,Ó she added. Suddenly there was a sound from outside
the bedroom. Linda jerked up her head, frightened, dropped the ring of
keys onto SandraÕs stomach. They bounced. Sandra winced. To her credit,
Linda bent over and applied the keys to the handcuffs once more, instead
of running away. Rose and I rolled off the bed, glanced around us
uncertainly. We were mice, trapped and with nowhere to flee.
ÒI got it!Ó Linda announced suddenly, happily. Sandra yanked down
her arms. She attempted to roll off the pillows, found she could hardly
move. ÒOhhhh, run girls, I canÕt make it!Ó she cried.
ÒNo, you must!Ó I yelled. Together with Linda I got her up. There
was a rattling at the door.
ÒGod Dammit! Who in GodÕs name TimeLocked this thing?Ó a voice
roared. I saw Linda look at Rose.
ÒThe panel downstairs!Ó Rose said shiveringly, excitedly. We were
all totally naked now, babes in a wood of bondage and sadism, with the
wolf at the door.
ÒYou girls found the panel for the Electric Locks?Ó Mistress smiled.
She looked refreshed from her sleep. Someone had brushed her hair during
the night. Our night visitor. Had it been her husband? Did he have a
tender side to him? Warmth arose somewhere deep within my womb. I
imagined him whipping me, peeing on me, then bathing and brushing me
later. So tender. Yet so demanding.
Suddenly the door flew open. It sagged on its hinges. Master,
SandraÕs husband, looked enraged. We retreated, the four of us, into a
corner at the far end of the room. We clung to ourselves, each other,
shaking visibly. MasterÕs face softened. He laughed. ÒYou girls are quite a
treat!Ó he said. ÒLook at you. Four jaybirds, naked as jaybirds, no less.
Find the key to the Master Bathroom and wash yourselves up. I have a full
day of activities planned for you, but IÕll make them less onerous if you
behave properly from now on.Ó
We seemed to melt before him. His penis was hard, fully erect.
Suddenly we flocked to it, all four of us, competing perhaps, flocked like
homing pigeons. Naked we dashed across the room and greeted his cock
with our hands, our mouths. We knelt in silent offering before his loins
and began licking him and squeezing him with furious, wordless passion.
ÒI must still punish you for freeing yourselves, though,Ó he said. He
grabbed myself and Rose by the hair and shoved our faces closer. I inhaled
the musky scent of his loins.
Amidst our seeking, licking tongues, he did not last long. He
frightened me when he came. I pulled my head back, got hit by his seed
right in my eye. He swung his manhood about and made sure we all got our
share.
ÒLick yourselves clean, do not waste it,Ó Master ordered us. Eagerly
we set about kissing and licking each otherÕs faces until his seed was all
swallowed. We licked up even the stray drops in each otherÕs hair, and on
each otherÕs shoulders and breasts.
ÒThank me for making more sperm for you to enjoy,Ó Master
commanded us. Like doggies we knelt, scrunched down, hands on our
knees, faces uplifted, and thanked him.
ÒThank you, Master,Ó four times in succession. Even Rose was
getting into it, inspired perhaps by MasterÕs beautiful cock. And Linda too,
despite her hyper-moral outlook on life.
ÒIÕm going out,Ó Master announced to us. ÒWhen I return I expect you
girls to be all prettied up and all tied down on the bed, with your legs
properly spread. Failure to do so will result in sure, swift punishment. It
is your choice.Ó We nodded, accepted his terms. We watched as he
crossed the room and picked up LindaÕs keys. Then he strode from the
bedroom, leaving us behind. Swallows in our nest, awaiting his return.
ÒHow shall we bathe in the master bathroom if he took the keys?Ó
Linda was asking a little later, after weÕd sat on our heels, marveling at
the sight of his retreating butt even after heÕd left.
ÒOh, silly! He forgot to leave them, took them out of unthinking
spite!Ó Sandra exclaimed. ÒThe front door is electrically locked, though, I
assure you, by a remote control in our car. We cannot open it from inside
the house, or anywhere, without that remote. ItÕs designed that way.Ó
ÒI donÕt mind,Ó I sighed. I was still remembering the force with
which heÕd expelled his sperm, delighting in it.
ÒCome, we can bathe on the porch, using the hose,Ó Mistress invited.
She led, and we followed, trooping obediently after her swaying motherly
ass. Ducklings crossing a highway of the mind. Rose touched my still-
visibly slashed heinie, I turned; we shared a smile.
Ah, how delightful it was! We squealed and ran in the sunshine,
dashed all around the flowers in our Secret Garden. Just beyond you could
hear the traffic; people honking, cursing sometimes. But within the four
high walls of the garden we were utterly free. We peed with abandon on
our favorite flowers, Sandra even, lowering her pussy dangerously close to
a small budding rosebush. She gave it an impromptu summer shower,
though a cloudless sky reigned overhead. And we used the nasty potty, the
one that made our butts spread their cleavage so boldly, pooped into it for
each other, for a helicopter that whizzed by overhead. It circled back
again, we fled laughing into the shade of a berry tree. We waited until it
left.
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
60 Page Journal, $1.00. Digest, 60 pages. Jeff Zenick, c/o Andy Zenick,
805 South Grand Avenue, Apt. 9, Pullman, WA 99163.
Review: Recently I was sitting in my dumpster and I thought to
myself, ÒAm I famous yet?Ó So I lifted up the lid and peeked out. I am
sorry to report that no line has formed outside my dumpster yet.
Sometimes people do come by and toss in their garbage, and sometimes I
turn on my T.V. and Bill Clinton appears and tells me some garbage but, as
yet, to the best of my knowledge, I am not famous.
So I figured, naturally, ÒHow can I get famous?Ó And then I
remembered Famous Anus. And I thought, well, thereÕs an idea! IÕll be
famous for my anus. After all, as they say, ÒOpinions are like assholes--
everybody has one.Ó And I have plenty of those! So I figured I may as well
not just be famous for my opinions (which isnÕt working anyway), IÕll be
famous for my asshole itself!
Tomorrow I plan to make a tour of the entire town where I live. IÕll
start in suburbia (since thatÕs where I am, despite local zoning
ordinances). IÕll go around and every time I see someone, IÕll drop my
pants. And IÕll ask, ÒWhat do you think of my anus? Should it be famous?Ó
And IÕll also sell chocolate, so that I have something more than just my
anus to offer the public. Famous Anus himself sold chocolate chips, and I
donÕt want him to accuse me of copying him. But, like Anthony Robbins
says, you have to ÔmodelÕ the people you emulate. I donÕt want to deviate
from the Famous Anus model. I just want to change it enough so I can
steal it without giving him any credit. (Hey, it worked for Microsoft!)
So if you happen to see some fat guy walk up to your daughter and
drop his pants, please donÕt be angry. IÕm just trying to gain ÒUnlimited
Power,Ó as promised by Anthony Robbins if I follow his advice.
Someone who abjures all pretensions of fame (of his anus or
otherwise) is Jeff Zenick. He tours America on his bicycle, and has almost
no money. He lives as a hobo, and writes down his observations of the
people and places he sees. He also draws drawings of the various places
he visits.
Recently JeffÕs brother Andy (whose address is listed above) sent
me several folded, xeroxed pages from JeffÕs zine, Ò60 page Journal.Ó I
didnÕt realize I didnÕt have the actual zine until IÕd already written half
this review, so youÕre going to get a fake review of a zine IÕve never seen.
Here are some excerpts from the xeroxes:
ÒWhen it was almost dark I was joined by a guy with only a blanket.
He was slightly incoherent and I couldnÕt figure out if he was a drunk or a
hapless saint. He said he was on his way to Santa Rosa and wasnÕt sure
how to get there. I showed him my Marin County map, but it seemed he
couldnÕt figure out where he was. I was certainly no help to him, but I did
give him a couple bucks. He went through a nearby trash can looking for
food or ciggerete [sic] butts.
Ò...It was still drizzling so I rode to the 101 bridge and sat under it
with my rain pancho [sic] on for several hours, reading Blake and waiting
for the rain to stop.
Ò...We talked a couple hours, female companionship is precious for
me. I tried to get her to meet me at the Sausalito Tour of Artists studios.
She was uncertain if sheÕd go. I went there and looked for her, but I guess
she didnÕt come. I rode around the buildings [sic] parking lot looking for
her truck, but didnÕt see it.Ó
JeffÕs drawings range from highly realistic ÒdraftsmanÓ drawings of
old fences, machinery, and such like, to Mike Diana type drawings of flying
saucers, aliens, and strange (obscene?) beings. Jeff has gained a fan
following in the small press for his sincerity and his eloquent renderings
(be they drawings or the written word). I listed his zine as $1.00 above
because his brother said to. But, in my opinion, if the zine is actually 60
pages long you would want to send at least $2.00 to cover the cost of a
zine that size.
And if you see a guy riding a bicycle down the street in the rain,
please donÕt intentionally splash water on him with your car. It might be
Jeff Zenick! (On the other hand, if you see some fat guy standing there and
he drops his pants and shows you his ass, please have the courtesy to tell
me whether I have a Famous Anus or not.) (I appreciate the input.)
AND IN THE END...
MODERN AMERICA
(and Bosnia)
ÒThose caught outside ÔtheirÕ area are often harassed by
truncheon-bearing police or by mobs itching to Ôteach them a lesson.ÕÓ -
The Economist, August 24, 1996, pg. 37
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
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-END OF 100 EMISSION