Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 107
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bottoms in Bondage
Chapter Two
Alexis removed several items, closed the door. She turned, looked at
me first. In her hands she held, like some waitress holding glasses, four
butt plugs. And neatly pressed between her two hands, quite full, was a
clear bottle of baby oil. Squirt cap, pint top. To match the color of my
bottomhole, perhaps, or my pussy or my nipples. With confident steps
Alexis approached me, swaying slightly on her feet as the carriage bumped
over a patch of rough ground that sent our titties bouncing. She bent, put
her things down on the bench beside me, between my naked body and JeffÕs.
His face had taken on a grimace. His cock, stunningly hard, waggled up and
down and side to side in response to the carriageÕs movements.
ÒRelax, Jeffrey,Ó Alexis said, not looking at him, as his hands groped
her big, swinging breasts. ÒPlease keep your hands to yourself, but not ON
yourself.Ó
ÒGod, PLEASE!Ó Jeff replied. His countenance looked gruesome. A
desperate man in the throes of untold arousal. He had drank more than the
rest of us, boldly, boastingly. And heÕd been rewarded for it (albeit
modestly, given our circumstances) by AlexisÕ tongue).
ÒControl, young man,Ó Alexis admonished him. ÒYou are quite young
and gorgeous, but that counts for little here. For too long youÕve been able
to sweep girls off their feet just by looking at them, and fuck them at
once. I am going to teach you to discipline your passion. When you leave
my care you will be a REAL man, who knows his body, his cock and his
balls, how to hold back and when to release. You will be able to properly
serve a woman, instead of just porking young girls. Look at the lovely
pussies of these young girls. Out in the real world theyÕd let you fuck
them in a minute, wouldnÕt they? Look at them now, all spread for you,
and desperate. Yet I will not allow you to have any right now. No sex for
Jeffrey. Later you will be asked to perform, though, and then I expect you
to do very well, coming neither too soon nor too late, but timed perfectly
for mine or some other femalesÕ pleasure.Ó She had pity on him then,
touched his cock lightly, between her fingers, and patted it on its head
with her other hand, like a puppy that was being good. ÒHold in your
sperm. With five pussies on hand youÕll need to pump and pump when the
time comes. But we are not at our destination yet.Ó
Alexis reached down behind me, slipped a finger into the length of
my bottomÕs groove. ÒRise, Lisa,Ó she ordered. Awkwardly, like a nervous
filly, I stood as best I could in the rolling carriage. I looked like some
newborn filly, my legs recklessly wide, held by the spreader bar. Above
me my wrists still remained shackled. My bosoms, full and round,
responded eagerly to every jolt of the coach. Squeamishly I watched as
Alexis took the baby oil bottle from the bench. She lifted it to my ass, so
wobbly, so conveniently presented, and deftly poked the squirt tip into my
hole.
ÒUrch!Ó I gritted, feeling the knob enter my tightness. Then a long
tongue-like spurt shot up my insides, coating them, followed by three
more. I was being spermed, by Johnson and JohnsonÕs. Industrial sperm it
was, and I would have sleek oiled babies pop from my bottom before the
night was through, all brown colored with little nuts speckling them.
But now, watching Alexis fretfully, my neck straining back, I
watched her take the bottle from me and pick up a cock-plug. It was
wicked looking, short and stubby, with a flange at its base to keep the
whole thing from being forced within me. Alexis squirted it all over with
baby oil, trying to keep the oil from running onto her fingertips, where she
held it at its base. She succeeded, largely, but my butt would not be so
lucky. Alexis reached behind me, pried apart my asscheeks with amazingly
strong fingers. Opened by her, I gasped.
ÒYou are strong-fingered, maÕam,Ó I breathed. My voice was muffled
by my gag but she nodded understandingly. She had done this before, to
other girls, ungagged. She knew what I would say, how I would react, long
before I did. She was practised, experienced. Girls had been opened by her
before, commenting on their own denouement, helpless to disobey, afraid
to complain. The air came cool to my opened anus. My virgin anus, held
open by Alexis.
ÒI have milked many men with my fingers,Ó Alexis smiled. Her voice
was soft. Suddenly she thrust the broad plug up me with merciless vigor.
I squawked, screeched, a violated songbird. An egg was not being taken
from my nest but put within, forcefully. A foreign egg, going where it did
not belong. Up it went, I shook all over, my golden hair sweeping about my
face. ÒIt is but a training plug, dear, you need not put on such a show,Ó
Alexis admonished. ÒYou will wear it to broaden you there, to make you
more readily accessible to the male penis. This is just a beginnerÕs plug.
Later you will be given larger ones, in succession, until your ring is able
to effortlessly receive whatever a man wishes to give you. Do you feel
stretched?Ó She caressed my cheek. I nodded, a scared child having just
swallowed something mommie told me not to. Up my butt instead of down
my throat. There had been no unhappy yummie face to warn me, just a
plain butt plug, fetchingly shaped like a penis. ÒIt is just a ring of
muscle, inside you can accommodate most anything. But the ring, it
resists. We must stretch it out so you will not be so difficult to fuck.
MasterÕs orders, darling. Enjoy them.Ó
She plopped me back down on the seat. I felt a discomforting jolt as
the plug was forced even deeper by the weight of my ass. The carriage
bounced, the plug reminded me of its presence.
In sitting I felt an even more worrisome fullness, if it could
possibly be thought of as such. It was a fullness of my bladder. The wine
and ladled water was coming back to haunt me now. Oh, God! I had to pee!
And just glancing at Alexis I knew she knew too, and wasnÕt going to let
me. How easy it would be to just piss out between my spread legs, a
spring spouting from within my honeyed dell. But it would ruin the floor
of the carriage, so old, so grand. With squirming hips I looked up at
Alexis, mouthed words of desperation over my gag.
ÒHold yourself in, dear,Ó she replied with a smile. ÒYou and Jeffrey
both must learn control, I see.Ó She turned, left me bereft with my ass
plugged and my bladder full, my pussy aflame. She did Sandra next,
inserting the plug as Sandra tried to take it gracefully, jerking a little.
She got a bigger one than the rest of us, I noticed. Poor girl. She was not
that much older than us but they picked on her anyway, since sheÕd been
our mistress. Rose was next, mewling and difficult, but not purposely so.
Linda was her naughty self, wriggling like a fish to avoid her inevitable
denouement, finally crying aloud as Alexis rammed the thing home.
The carriage rolled on. The four of us felt every awful bounce of it
now, our bladders registering their fullness within us. We wriggled
shamelessly now, four women reduced to schoolchildren, thinking of
nothing save our pussies, wanting to pee and rub ourselves. There would
be naptime. We would piss in our beds and frig ourselves with crazy
abandon. Teacher would spank us afterwards, finding our wet spots.
Alexis sat down in ArthurÕs lap. She had to pee too, I saw, for she
placed her hand tastefully between her legs and held herself. Then,
inspired, she turned her head to Arthur and they began kissing. She did not
frig herself, though, and he but caressed her figure with his fingertips.
Their mouths, though, not ruled by any dictates from Master, kissed
wantonly, luridly, their tongues plunging deep and twisting together,
exploring, raping. Jeff grabbed me by my hair and turned my face to his.
He tore off my gag. He kissed me, passionately, before a word could
escape my lips. My mouth opened to his and we let our saliva mix. I felt
his tongue probing me deeply and wished it was his cock. My hands were
shackled, though, I could not reach it.
Scotty liberated RoseÕs mouth. He kissed her, she did not complain,
did not even say anything in the few seconds his fumblings left her
ungagged and unkissed. Linda, watching, mewled her disapproval. Sandra
said nothing, looked down and watched her titties jiggle as the carriage
continued on.
A stop. At first it felt strange, not moving. Quickly the door opened
and a man strode in. He wore eighteenth-century garb. A light mask
crossed over his eyes, hiding his identity. Within the eyeholes of the mask
I saw steely eyes.
ÒMaster!Ó Alexis cried. She had still been kissing Arthur when he
entered. He gave her face a solid slap, though not one that could hurt a
woman, but one hard enough to wake her up. Alexis put a hand to her
injured cheek, regarded him. ÒSir, they must pee quite badly. Let us take
them in at once,Ó she said. He slapped her again, harder. She clutched at
her pussy as if the bold sting of the slap would make her pee.
MAGAZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Swank Confidential, December 1996, $5.99
Review: Recently I applied for welfare benefits. And they told me,
ÒIn order to get welfare, you have to work!Ó This seemed rather an
oxymoron to me given that, if I had a job, I wouldnÕt need welfare. (Well,
maybe just a little.)
So I decided, since I have to go talk to the welfare lady again
tomorrow, that I better accept responsibility for my life and go out and
get a job and be a Working Man and do work.
As a result, I have founded the Holy Joe Research Center. My job is
to research human sexuality. You might think, ÒthatÕs hardly unique.Ó But
I had a special niche. I have seen lots of polls of adults and sex, and teens
and sex, but I have never seen a poll on pre-teens and sex. So I was going
to go around to all the elementary schools and ask all the little girls about
their sex lives. And I had a questionnaire all prepared. It took me three
whole hours of work to create it, sitting in the library and looking at the
little girls and wondering about their sex lives.
For instance: 1. How many blow jobs do you give per day? (DonÕt
worry. I was prepared for the question, ÒWhatÕs a blow job?Ó A good
researcher is ALWAYS prepared!) And I had many other questions ready
too. But my friend holy shit told me he had served time in jail for a
similar research project he undertook on that subject. So, I decided to
pursue an easier line of work. In my job, I will review Sex magazines!
This is a lot of work, believe me. Just carrying all the sex magazines out
of the store is hard work in itself. Then you have to go through them, page
by page, and look at all the tits and cunts (and the dicks too,
unfortunately). And also you have to look at all the assholes.
Now, as part of my Research Center, I have prepared my first report
on a sex magazine. (So I can impress the welfare lady). Here it is:
Persia and Yvonne (pg. 56): Ah, the hospital! Having been a patient in
a hospital a few times (not a mental hospital, I hasten to add) I can relate
to this pictorial. Going to the hospital is similar to bondage, in my
opinion. You donÕt have anything immediately wrong with you. But, in
order to exorcise certain physical demons which will afflict you in the
future, you agree to undergo pain today.
In this pictorial Yvonne goes in for her yearly physical. Somehow,
she immediately winds up as an inpatient in a hospital bed! She is very
attractive. And her nurse is not only attractive, she is dressed like every
manÕs Dream Nurse! Yvonne is reassured by the nurse that there wonÕt be
too much pain. Then, her panties are carefully removed by the nurse. The
nurse proceeds to an exam. We arenÕt shown the taking of blood pressure,
temperature, pulse, and all the other things I remember from all the
physicals IÕve had. Instead, the physical consists of Yvonne having her
vagina explored! And it is very intimately explored too, not just by some
gloved doctor with probes, but by the nurseÕs tongue! The nurse also uses
a popsicle stick, which I had not previously identified as an instrument
used in vaginal exams, but thatÕs why I founded my Research Center, to
learn stuff!
In addition to having her vagina examined by the nurseÕs tongue,
little Yvonne also has her butthole examined. Unfortunately, no report is
given to the reader regarding the nurseÕs opinion of the health of YvonneÕs
butthole. So I was forced to make a determination for myself. I spent
many hours of Work staring at YvonneÕs butthole. And now I have reached a
diagnosis. YvonneÕs butthole is perfectly healthy, but it is too small. It
needs to be widened. This is best accomplished naturally, through the use
of the male penis. Now, as the director of a Research Center devoted to
human sexuality, let me assure Yvonne that I am available to oversee the
widening of her butthole should she determine that professional help is
needed. Also, since she will be my first live subject, I will waive my
normal fee of $2,000.
Now this brings up another point. I was reading about sex recently
in a sex book. (All part of having a Job and doing a dayÕs work, IÕm sorry to
say, but IÕm a Working Man now, not just a pervert.) And in this book it
said that some women must have their hymen surgically removed because
itÕs too thick. Now, ladies, surgery is dangerous. Any surgical operation
carries certain risks. However, these risks can be avoided through holy
joeÕs Ônatural openingÕ program. I figure, since IÕm currently offering to
waive my normal fee, you should see me before you see a doctor. Give me
some time in bed with you and I promise that I will do my utmost to
pierce your hymen! Also, we should work on your butthole at the same
time, so you wonÕt have to make a second visit. And I encourage you to
enroll in my Ôoral skillsÕ program too. This will ensure that no man can
ever choke you by sticking his dick in your mouth. (Men have been known
to do this, alas.) My Ôoral skillsÕ program will teach you how to handle a
man if you should ever find yourself in a situation where a man is trying
to impose himself on your mouth. Also, my Ôoral skillsÕ program carries a
100 percent guarantee. If you should ever experience difficulty in
swallowing a manÕs penis after graduating from my program, you may
enroll again for free.
ReadersÕ Confessions (pg. 5) contains some beautiful photos of a
female attempting to swallow a manÕs dick. But she seems not to have
had the benefit of holy joeÕs Ôoral skillsÕ program, because mostly she just
seems to be playing with the manÕs dick, instead of swallowing it down.
Let me assure her that I will waive my fee at ANY time if a professional
model like her should wish to gain more confidence in this area. All
aspiring porno models should enroll in my program. When you get your
first job you need to know exactly what to do, so you donÕt blow your
audition.
Girls Loving Girls (pg. 69) portrays a sad tale. Two women sexually
abuse each other because they donÕt have a man to do it to them. They
strip off each otherÕs clothes, one girl puts the other to bed, and then they
kiss and love each other with their dainty little tongues. So sad. Perhaps
they are afraid of having a manly dude like me in their life. But thatÕs why
we have research centers on human sexuality: to help lesbians become
real women and learn how to swallow penises and good stuff like that. As
the Lord says, ÔI did not create Eve and Eve, I created Joe and Eve.Õ Or
something. Anyway, youÕre not a real woman, my dear lesbians, unless
youÕve had a man in you. Trust me on this.
On a broader subject, I have been trying to figure out why the Ôthird
tierÕ of sex magazines, like this one, are not Ôfirst tier.Õ No offense to
Swank Confidential, but I didnÕt even know the name of this magazine
when I bought it. And if I didnÕt have to write a review of it, I probably
would have just jacked off over it a billion times without ever knowing
its name! So why is it that when IÕm jacking off over Playboy, I know IÕm
jacking off over Playboy. And Penthouse. And Hustler (sometimes). But
why is it that when I jack off over Swank Confidential, I do it in
ignorance?
The conclusion I have reached is this: First, Swank Confidential is a
stupid name. Do they think I believe that these are real confessionals by
real people? Second, none of the girls in this magazine are presented as
anything other than fictitiously named (or anonymous) models. I could
understand this if the girls were ugly. But many of them are quite
beautiful.
My feeling is, if Swank Confidential got a better title for itself, say,
ÔHoly JoeÕs Favorite Girls,Õ it would be more memorable to the reader.
Also, if we knew who these girls were, it would be more memorable. The
girls should be presented as real people, in addition to being lovely ass-
licking sluts. I mean, you would think it would be hard to get one girl to
lick another girlÕs ass in a nationally-distributed magazine. Having a page
or two on who she is would, youÕd think, be the easy part. I mean, I donÕt
know where to look up this monthÕs Playmate of the Month, but I do know
enough about her to form the illusion in my mind that I know her as a real
person. With the girls in Swank Confidential, I have no idea who any of
these females are. So they remain forever anonymous, in a stupidly-
named magazine. This, in my opinion, is why the Ôthird tierÕ porno
magazines remain third tier. They have stupid names and feature
anonymous girls.
So the problem for these magazines is simply a marketing problem.
Many of these magazines, dollar for dollar, are worth much more than any
given issue of Playboy. These magazines are LOADED with pictorials,
many of them quite nicely done. But because of poor marketing, they
remain at the bottom of the porno barrel. I will miss the next Playboy if I
donÕt see it. I will miss the next Penthouse. I will even miss the next
Mayfair. But you know what? If I never see Swank Confidential again, I
wonÕt miss it. And thatÕs sad. This is a good issue. I assume their other
issues have been good also. But, like I said, if I hadnÕt written a review of
this magazine, I would never even have known its name, even though I
spent $5.99 to acquire it.
This concludes my first report from the Holy Joe Research Center.
Remember, IÕm not a pervert. IÕm a working man, just doing his dayÕs
work. Now, for my free time, IÕll visit the restroom. (Hmmm, this looks
just like my workplace! Same roll of toilet paper and everything.) I guess
IÕm a workaholic. Do you think I could apply for WorkmenÕs Compensation
for compulsively working too much?
AND IN THE END...
QUOTE OF THE MONTH
ÒLacking anything better to do, AmericaÕs Senate has been busying
itself banning something that is not legal anyway.Ó - The Economist (on
Gay marriage), September 7, 1996, pg. 20.
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-END OF 107 EMISSION