Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 121
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Holland Hunnies
Chapter One
I lay on my belly. Reaching down, I yanked down my panties in back,
giving everyone a view of my whip-marked bottom. The lashes were
almost gone now, but still I secretly thrilled that someone might see what
IÕd suffered for love.
Elizabeth, her bottom a much redder hue, opted to sit as carefully
down as she could (her ass still stinging), and bare her pussy. She was too
embarrassed to let people see what IÕd done to her. Perhaps later she
would turn over.
Mark, his cock hard once more and eager, prowled around us a
moment, unsure what to do. Finally, relenting in our choice of
peacefulness, he lay down. But he was restless. He tossed and turned on
his chaise lounge. He forgot to pull down his swimsuit at first, then tore
it off, threw it into some flowers growing nearby. Daisies, I think. In his
hardness he rolled back and forth on his clean white towel, soiling it
perhaps at the waist-level with pre-cum. I glanced at him. I smiled. He
looked at me, his head propped up on one arm. A Playgirl boy, randy and
ready. I stuck my tongue out at him, turned on my side, away from him.
Let him admire my ass for now. Later perhaps I would play. Mistress
would protect me from his wildness.
Secreted from somewhere within her towel, mistress drew forth a
little cat oÕ nine tails. ItÕs cords were made of soft leather, but with
little tips that promised a nasty bite should they be struck down hard.
She swished them lightly over her slit, her thighs. She shot Mark a
warning glance. They could be used much more harshly on his loins, if she
chose. Mark seemed entranced by the toy, yet obeyed nonetheless. With
exposed privates, we girls still in our nothing bras, we offered our
tenderest parts up, passersby admiring them as the sun shone brightly
down.
Later I rose and went to the pool. My panties still thoughtlessly,
teasingly at my knees, my bra on, I watched as half-a-dozen girls played
volleyball. The water was not deep, knee-high perhaps, where they played.
Their breasts bounced easily. Some wore bras that had lost a recent
battle with their jouncing mammaries. The bras ringed their waists,
uselessly, or clung higher, the tits free nonetheless. Other girls had taken
their bras off beforehand. Still other bras floated on the surface of the
water, or sank within, parted from the girl whoÕd brought them.
I stepped into the pool. I wished to join them. I did not touch my
bra. It would not stay on long, I knew, once I got fully into the game. My
jumping and leaping would free my breasts. I did not care. It looked fun, I
wanted to play volleyball, let my tits be seen if need be. My panties I took
off. I wanted complete freedom for my legs. I wanted nothing to bind
them, even at the waist. I left my panties behind, floating. Sloshing I
advanced through the water. A girl turned, smiled at me.
ÒAh, a true athlete,Ó she said. She too wore no panties, though some
other girls did. ÒWe like playing as the ancient Greeks did, nude,Ó she
smiled, jokingly. I smiled back.
Upon reaching the girls, I saw that all of them showed marks of
having been whipped. Some had marks across their soft bellies, others
upon their breasts. One girlsÕ back had been sliced up while another had
suffered upon the thighs. Many of them had marks on their bottoms. The
girl closest to me, my fellow Olympian in spirit, had weals on her tushy. I
bent, examined them. The game paused, waiting for me to join them.
I traced the girlÕs ridged whip-marks with my fingertips. ÒOooh, do
these hurt?Ó I asked.
ÒOnly when I move,Ó she smiled. She seemed proud of her marks,
showing them off, as did many of the other girls. Ranged around us were
their boyfriends, or mistresses, the very ones whoÕd marked them up. I
gazed at these strangers, so wicked; they saw my fear of them and smiled.
They wished to have me, I knew. Would I go? I would play in front of
them, at least, show them my spirit. It frightened me, yet I knew they
could not have me without my own mistressÕ permission.
We played; the ball flew. I lost my bra as quickly as I feared I
would, leaping to strike the ball back upon our opponents. Adipose tissue
volleyball, it might have been called, given all the asses and tits flying
about. We laughed, we giggled. When we were done we embraced each
other in the lapping waters. I kissed my newest friend, a girl of 17 whoÕd
played beside me. We were teammates, buddies. WeÕd won the game
together. The girl with the ridges on her bottom tousled our hair as we
kissed each otherÕs mouths, our tongues light, teasing. SheÕd pointed out
her boyfriend to me and IÕd liked him, smiled at him. He sat watching us
with a riding crop in his hand, his cock erect, stroked by a helpful
mistress.
We clambered out of the pool. Mistress Wentworth was there. She
reached out and took my hand and helped me up. Lovingly she toweled me
off. She reclaimed me, leading me back to my boyfriend, Elizabeth, Mark.
She sat me down on her chaise lounge. She sat beside me and stroked my
long hair. Across from us sat Elizabeth, snuggled between Rob and Mark.
Their cocks were fiercely displayed. They looked like twin Tarzans in the
sunlight, their hair wild, wet from lap swimming in the poolÕs deepest
parts. Elizabeth was their treasure, she hoped, a mermaid washed up onto
shore between them.
Mistress surveyed us all, our healthfulness, sun-browned, our tits
still whiter than the rest of our skin, our bottoms rabbit-tails still, for
clouds had come, shielding us from the strongest rays as we played in the
pool. Looking at mistress I remembered our exploits in our private
dungeon. I guessed weÕd return there now. Her gaze seemed to confirm it.
But then she added:
ÒNow that youÕve been broken in a little you may join other people in
their dungeons if you wish.Ó I felt a shadow drop across me. I looked up.
It was my newfound friend, 17, her boyfriend, their mistress. They looked
down upon me, wishing me to come with them. I sought my boyfriendÕs
eyes, asked permission. He considered, nodded.
Responding quickly, before I could change my mind, I blew my
boyfriend a kiss and rose to my feet. My hand was swept up by my new
friend.
ÒIÕm Samantha,Ó she whispered, smiling. Her tummy was marked,
lightly. Otherwise she was unmarked. Our mistress had deeper-hued
lashes across her bottom.
ÒIÕm Sally,Ó I breathed.
ÒThis is Elegina, she takes care of us while weÕre here,Ó Samantha
said, pointing to my new mistress. ÒAnd this is Tom, my boyfriend.Ó
ÒPleased to meet you, Tom,Ó I said, and reached my hand out. He took
it but, instead of shaking it, put it to his stiff cock. I gasped. I looked at
him, at Elegina, lastly at Samantha. I laughed. Gamely I curled my
fingertips around his stiff shaft. Then I bent, sucked it lightly. Samantha
palmed my bottom, discovered my pussylips. She made me shiver.
I rose, my lips wet, pre-cum glistening on them, a thread of it rising
with my rising, breaking. I let go of him.
Elegina took one of my hands, Samantha the other. Together we
walked with Tom into the house. The hallway was refreshingly cool after
the hot sun. My heels spoke softly on the tiled floor. All else was long
gone; my visor, my sunglasses, my bikini. Only my shoes remained, jelly
shoes, easy to wear and comfortable. They would protect my feet from
any nails in the new dungeon, tacks and mice and skittering bugs from
medieval ages past. Yet the rest of me, exposed, would have to fare as
best it could. I hoped my new playmates would be gentle. I wanted
pleasure, not pain. But I was in a dungeon, not the best place for a girl to
avoid punishment.
Quivering and jittery, I let them lead me inside their private
chamber. Mistress turned, locked the door from inside. She turned back to
me. All had been elegance so far, soft looks, gentle touchings. Suddenly
she grabbed me by my hair and kissed me. Her mouth pressed hard to mine,
her tongue drove into me like a cock.
ÒFucking bitch!Ó Mistress snarled at me when she finally let me up
for air. ÒGet down on your knees, girl!Ó she hissed. I did not resist. I
could not. They were three, I was but one. I dropped to my knees, hurting
them a little as the kneecaps struck the stone floor. It was worn smooth
by many feet, knees, walking and scuttling across it. Mine were but one
more pair. MistressÕ eyes softened, her voice still had a sharp edge but I
detected a purr in it. The cat had her canary right where she wanted it. I
looked up at her, them, with wondering eyes. ÒFor you are our pet, are you
not, and all good pets belong down on all fours,Ó mistress smiled. Her chin
jutted out, her teeth were set in a kind of grimace of domination. She
would make me obey, I realized, whether I wanted to or not. Yet it was
still a game, though a wicked one that my mother would no doubt have
warned me against. What games had she played, when she was young?
Fearfully my eyes turned away from EleginaÕs tall, elegantly
powerful figure, her slim hands and arms, legs, smoothly requiring me to
do all she asked. Beside her stood Samantha. She was a petite blonde, a
waif, but with full, womanly breasts. She leaned forward, patted my head
lightly, as if greeting a doggie. Her swelling bosoms dangled before me,
nipples sweetly upturned and offering. I licked each lightly, impulsively.
ÒNo, doggie! No!Ó Samantha cried, leaping a bit but not lifting her
breasts from me, making them shake only, as if secretly pleased by my
affection. Elegina laughed, remarked I must be trained to behave. I
turned, my tongue still hungry, to Tom. I gazed at the mystery of his
balls, hanging like some ripe gourd between his hair-sheathed legs. He
looked full, achingly so. I wondered who was really slave here, and
master. Had he not been permitted to water any of the femalesÕ cunnies
yet? I extended my tongue, touched it to the very base of his hanging
testicles. Lightly, gently, not wishing to hurt such a bulgingly full sack, I
lifted it. Elegina noted the innocence of my passion with a light,
approving run of her fingers through my hair. She curled a finger in my
long blonde locks. I lifted the balls up, saw with wonder how the testes
seemed to bulge out right into my eyes. Tom parted his legs a little, let
me explore him. Elegina made me more submissive by drawing my arms
behind me.
I felt fibrous rope, itchy rope, wrapped softly round my wrists.
Elegina bound them firmly, not too tight. I felt my bosoms in front offer
themselves with jutting, fulsome lewdness. Mommie would not like
seeing me without my bra on. Vengefully I withdrew my tongue from
TomÕs sack. It fell, abruptly, jiggled a little as the testes reached the end
of their bungee-like spermatic cords within TomÕs sack. I ran my tongue
along the length of his cock, along his seemingly endless cock-length.
Finally reaching the outthrust head I got my mouth around it like one bites
into a full, round apple, feeling his cockhead overwhelm my gaping lips.
Secure in my mouth at last, I sucked upon it. Tom trembled.
ÒShe is leashed,Ó Elegina said of me. And it was true. Leashed most
uniquely, by my own passion. Samantha put a hand to TomÕs nuts, squeezed
them.
ÒDo you wish to make a deposit?Ó Samantha teased her boyfriend. He
shivered.
Elegina slapped my bottom. Her breasts jiggled somewhere behind
me as she hit me with her hand. ÒShe would like to make a withdrawal,
the little robber!Ó Elegina said of me. I did not loose TomÕs cockhead,
despite the sting of her slap. ÒShe would steal all his sperm away and
stuff all she could safely within her tummy, where we could never have
it.Ó She slapped me again. My cheeks wobbled, I cried out, but I did not let
go TomÕs prick. My mouth held it like a fish is held by the bait and hook of
a fishing line. ÒWe would be reduced to licking her lips, like penitents,
hoping for stray unswallowed bits of sticky sperm. She would be Queen of
the Royal Residue.Ó Elegina grabbed me by the hair, yanked my head back.
Her grip was so forceful that I was forced to give up the precious cock-
plum. TomÕs dick, suddenly released, wiggled freely on the air. A strand
of saliva from my still gaping mouth ran from my lips to his cockhead,
claiming possession of him still. The strand broke at last, leaving only
the saliva-wet from my mouth on his cockhead.
Mistress lifted up one of my legs. Awkwardly she lifted it, me still
on my knees, throwing me forward. My face would have hit the floor save
for Samantha. She grabbed me by my neck with both her hands. She
gripped me tight. I felt like I was being hanged, her hands a noose. In back
my leg was lifted high, exposing my sex, making me look like some poor
creature in the marketplace, lifted and separated for the butcherÕs knife.
ÒYou must have boots,Ó Mistress said matter-of-factly. ÒTo protect
your toenails. They are lovely and nicely painted and we would not want
to chip or scrape them.Ó Tom turned, walked to a wall where whips
waited. He gazed at them, studying which might be most suitable, I
guessed. For what I knew not. Were horses waiting for us, out back? Or
was I the horse? TomÕs bare arse-cheeks clenched, unclenched. The hairs
in his butt crack seemed to shiver slightly as he tensed and untensed his
bottom. Above his back rose, arched to his shoulders. Did I see marks
there? I couldnÕt tell. His legs were like marble columns, holding up the
massive weight of the world. Yet now he chose a small whip, almost
dainty, as if made for a girlÕs flesh. Not the bullwhip whose strong lines
might have lashed him in some long-past game, leaving fading marks or
scars on his back which I thought I saw now. He lashed the dainty whip
against a cushion. It seemed to jerk under the blow. Dust rose up, faintly.
Mistress pulled off my jelly slipper, threw it away, I knew not
where, tossing it aside into the maze of dungeon machinery. Racks,
pillars, all manner of things built to torment tender female flesh, or
sunbaked male flesh. I would confess all, I swore to myself.
A boot of soft, but tight leather was put on my foot, worked up my
calf. Tom returned with the whip and set it aside, helped mistress get the
boot all the way up to my knee. He tied it there, in back, to hold it, with a
leather jerkin drawstring that was sewn into the bootÕs cuff.
My booted leg was dropped to the floor. My knee hit the floor and the
soft padding of the bootÕs knee protected it. My other leg was lifted,
cuffed to just above the knee with the bootÕs mate. Down on my knees
again, free of them, with only my wrists tied behind me, I felt good. I was
submissive, though I promised myself I would not be too submissive. I
turned, gazed at them with a look of small defiance. Tom, taking a lanyard
from someplace, knotted it round my neck. I had my own noose now, with
two little ends that hung down from the knot, frayed tassels hanging
where they terminated. They hung to the inner curve of my breasts, where
my swelling bosoms began their slumbrous sloping outward thrust.
Elegina reached down. Her long-nailed fingers touched the tasseled ends
of my lanyard, lifted them. She yanked up my neck like some executioner,
forcing me to straighten my back lest I be hung right then by her. My tits
wobbled deliciously atop my ribs, offered fruit with my body as the fruit
tray.
ÒShe is sweet, is she not?Ó Elegina asked. Tom nodded.
ÒHave her scrub floors, like you did to me,Ó Samantha giggled. I
sensed her mischief, wondered what she could mean. Proudly I kept my
head up as Elegina continued to hold me, to hang me. I was beautiful, I
knew, specially selected by them for their games. Yet did I wish to be
here? I could not know. Proud in my beauty I could not know. TomÕs cock
thrust at me, inviting me, commanding me. He was assertive right down
to his manhood. Yet he let Elegina run his show. Or perhaps he and
Samantha were both slaves to her. I could not tell.
My hands still tied behind me, they made me knee my way across the
floor to a faucet. Elegina led me the first few Òsteps,Ó leading me like an
errant dog. Then she let go and I had to crawl the rest of the way myself,
my back strictly erect, my face still proud in my nudity. Only my bottom,
wiggling apprehensively down behind me, gave away my fears. Indeed it
would be the first to suffer if my fears came to pass!
A faucet waited, set in the wall. It stuck out far, like at some old
camp, reminding me of TomÕs cock. The faucet handle had soft cotton
bound to it, as if for protection.
ÒTurn on the water,Ó Mistress commanded. I jerked as I felt the
sting of a whip lace across my outthrust bottom. My hands were tied!
How could I--? ÒFill the bucket,Ó Mistress insisted. She snapped the whip
across my fanny and I yelped helplessly, tears coming to my eyes.
Suddenly I guessed! I must use my mouth in all my tasks, like a dog.
I bent over, offering my swelling seat to whatever depredations
MistressÕ whip chose to favor it with, trembling visibly, mired suddenly in
overwhelming fear. As I gripped a steel bucket with my mouth the whip
came to me again, kissing me with fire, anointing my right cheek with its
sharp tipped touch. I held the bucket in my mouth, cried out between my
teeth but did not let go. I dragged it underneath the faucet. Then, lifting
my head, I set my lips to the cotton-shielded handle. I twisted the faucet
handle, my blonde hair hanging down all around me, unattended, sure to
bring clucking disapproval from momÕs beautician, who did my hair still
despite my engagement.
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Worldwide Treasure Bureau Fixed-Price Catalog, Fall/Winter 1996, free.
1-800-437-0222. e-mail: WTBHQ@aol.com
Review: The next time you play a sword-and-sorcery game, why not
inject a little realism into it? WeÕve all gone rummaging around some
dank dungeon for emeralds, amber, and foolÕs gold. But how about making
your next dungeon one where the players find Roman coins? This catalog
will help you construct the treasure troves in your dungeon.
It features and describes Celtic coins, ancient Sumerian beads, coins
minted by Genghis Khan and old coins from JesusÕ city, Jerusalem. You can
make your Ôbooby prizeÕ treasure in your dungeon be Confederate money.
Imagine how ridiculous a player will feel as you describe, in great
authoritative detail, the (worthless) money his character has just
discovered: ÒYou have discovered 10 million dollars in $5.00 bills. They
were issued by the State of Georgia on January 15, 1862, and each bears
an engraved vignette of General James Oglethorpe, the founder of the
Colony of Georgia.Ó ItÕs all right here in this catalog! You donÕt even need
to buy anything. Just use the catalog (secretly) to impress your players
with your great wisdom as a Dungeon Master.
Of course, whenever me and my hobo friends play dungeons and
dragons, all of the treasure consists of back issues of Playboy, Penthouse,
and Hustler!
AND IN THE END...
YOUR PARENTS ARE SPYING ON YOU
ÒWith its button nose and tartan bow, it looks at first glance like
a typical teddy bear. But this huggable toy does more than dress up a
bed. It comes equipped with a hidden camera.Ó - Time, July 22, 1996,
pg. 65.
----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age
statement to: roller666@aol.com
-To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love
Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 Diapergirls! (CuntCastle2d)
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller6666 CuntCastle3b here!
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/nnd666 NudieNursery5 here!
-Back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-or send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
U.S.A. ISIL home page: http:// www.liberta.com/isil/home.html
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 121 EMISSION