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Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 145
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bordello Girls
Chapter Three
We were athletes, olympians. We worked the crowd. The crowd
worked us...over. Our hair flew as we twisted our heads, riding now, riding
steeds who lay beneath us, our loins joined in lovemaking. I rode three
men that way, then a fourth. My brow was wiped and my squeezed titties
soothed, hot cloths bathing me between sessions. On and on Elegina and I
went, taking man after man. Crops whipped our bottoms sometimes when
we flagged, playfully, urging us on. Mouths sucked at my nipples as if I
were the Earth Goddess herself, feeding all EarthÕs children. I cried out
into the night. The girls in the harem heard me, I knew. Elegina screamed
out her pleasure. We were wanton, abandoned to love.
Deep in the night, amidst a shuddering veil of perspiration and
desire, we finished. I could not stand. I knelt upon the mat, Elegina lying
beneath me. The last man, finished, rose and went to his fellows. They
reclined in chairs that surrounded the love mats. Only Elegina and I
remained. I toyed with her hair, softly, first the locks on her head and
then the curls sweetly nested in her pussy. She smiled at me. I smiled
back. Then I collapsed into her arms and we lay half-dazed, hugging each
other.
My nipples were sore the next morning. My cunt ached. The maids
brought me a blouse and told me to put it on. I did not want it. They gave
me panties. I wanted to run naked in the desert. Elegina began dressing
beside me. ÒHe is giving us safe passage back to Europe,Ó she said to me.
ÒMartin is dead. The Arabs came in the night, over the fallen tree, and
killed him.Ó
ÒGood,Ó I replied. ÒHe made enough of them suffer. Let him suffer in
turn.Ó
ÒYou are turning into one of them,Ó she smirked.
ÒI feel like one of them,Ó I replied. ÒI have all their seed in my
womb.Ó
We were taken by limousine to the airport. Still uncertain, wobbly-
legged, we boarded our plane. We had no luggage. In Italy I kissed Elegina
goodbye. I had just enough money for a cab, given to me by the Arabs. I
rode back to my parentÕs villa. I knocked on the front door. My mother
opened it.
ÒDarling! Where have you been?Ó she asked, almost shouting. She
hugged me.
ÒI was gone a little bit, mommie,Ó I replied. I was sheepish, bashful.
She sensed I had done new things. The scent of Egypt was still in my
clothes. My hair was fragrant, too fragrant, as if oiled with exotic spices.
I wore lipstick that made me look older. Her eyes gazed over me.
ÒDo you--? Did you--?Ó She wanted to ask, did not.
I went upstairs and flopped into my bed. I fell asleep right away. I
slept soundly. In the morning, when I awoke, there was a little medicine
cup beside my bed. Mommie had put it there. I looked over, peeked inside.
RU-486, it said on a little white tablet. I swallowed it at once.
THE END
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Amsterdam Damsels
Chapter One
I got my very own card to the health club on my fifteenth birthday.
It was a relief to me. Lots of cute guys went there, but I couldnÕt go,
because if you werenÕt fifteen you were considered too young. Maybe they
were afraid IÕd meet somebody. Well, I did meet someone. But it wasnÕt a
pervert. It was a woman.
I still remember my first day, marching in there, presenting my
card, proud at last not to be stuck in day care while my dad worked out.
He didnÕt go much anymore, which I was quite thankful for. ItÕs no fun
having your dad looking over your shoulder, ÒmonitoringÓ everyone you talk
to. HeÕd gone when I was younger; eight, nine, leaving me with the kids
and the fat woman in the back, playing Candyland. Then heÕd gotten busy at
work, and divorced my mom. I hardly ever saw him anymore. It was fine
with me. I think he was, at the moment, having an affair with one of his
secretaries.
I surveyed the vast assembly of machines. So many! And lots of
sweaty guys pouring over their workout. I decided to begin with the
stair-stepper machine. I got up on it. There was a woman beside me,
blonde, with long tresses down to her waist. I tried to get my machine
started. I couldnÕt make it go.
ÒWould you like some help?Ó the blonde beside me asked. I blushed.
ÒI guess so,Ó I replied. I realized as she bent close to help that she
was younger than IÕd thought, perhaps only a few years older than me! But
her demeanor was one of utter assurance, complete sophistication. She
had a light Swedish accent. I smelled her perfume. It was delicious, like
crushed rose petals; light, airy, yet with just a scent of menace, as if any
man who let himself slip into her grasp would never escape her long, fine
fingers.
With her polished nails she deftly entered the needed codes for my
machine. She asked if I were a beginner. I nodded, embarrassed to admit
that I was so new at this.
ÒItÕs okay,Ó she smiled. A radiant, sunshiny smile. Her eyes
smouldered. Distant thunderclouds hovered beyond her pupils. ÒI just
joined last month. It took me awhile to learn all this myself. There! Five
minutes. That should do you. IÕll bet youÕll be winded after that, but donÕt
worry, youÕll build up your endurance as time goes by.Ó
ÒThanks,Ó I said. There was nothing in her eyes but female
companionship, I decided. IÕd found a new friend.
We worked out together, and sure enough, after five minutes I was
pooped.
ÒToo many afternoons at home watching GullibleÕs Island,Ó my new
friend smiled at me. I nodded my agreement, my breath gasping.
ÒThere are other things you can try,Ó she smiled, her eyes glancing
toward the guys in the free weight room. I shook my head Ôno.Õ ÒShy?Ó she
asked.
ÒYeah,Ó I replied.
ÒIÕm Kali,Ó she told me. Her voice was sweet. Her eyes beckoned me
to cast away my fears.
ÒIÕm Melody," I replied. I walked away. I put a finger to my mouth,
contemplating. I think she watched me, going. I wanted her to watch.
With her eyes behind me I went where IÕd said I wouldnÕt, to the free
weight room. I guy said hello to me. He helped me lift up a barbell and do
curls with it.
I met Kali a lot at the gym, in the ensuing days. I met some guys too.
They were mostly older. They helped me, but seemed afraid to ask me out.
Jailbait, you know. But I enjoyed their attention.
Kali and I were on the stair-steppers together about two weeks
later. It was early evening, a Saturday. There was a World Series Playoff
going on at the time, so only a few people were at the gym. Kali and I had
the entire row of stairsteppers to ourselves.
ÒDo you go to college?Ó I asked her.
ÒNope,Ó she replied. There was a smile on her face that hid a secret.
ÒYou work?Ó I asked. She always had very cool gym clothes.
ÒHmm,Ó she said, half-nodding, dropping her eyes to her stair-
stepper, as if to study the codes entered there.
ÒWhat do you do?Ó I asked.
ÒIÕm a sexual torturess,Ó she replied. Her eyes met mine, blazed a
moment, held me. I was unmoved at first, then the words sank in. A little
gasp slipped out of my throat. I did not know if IÕd heard her right. Had I?
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ÒA what?Ó I asked. She could see my cheeks had acquired a flush.
ÒA sexual torturess,Ó she said again, firmly.
ÒWhatÕs that?Ó I murmured, mouthed, afraid, tantalized.
ÒPeople pay me to torment them,Ó Kali replied. Her words were
graceful, smooth. ÒTheir genitals, you know, naked and all that.Ó She gave
the seat of her bottom a little slap.
ÒLike-like a whore?Ó I asked. I was somewhere between Never-
Never Land and the Twilight Zone, my mind drifting, my spine tingling.
ÒA trollop,Ó she smiled. It sounded Ôlollipop.Õ ÒBut with special
powers,Ó she added.
ÒLike...Ó my voice trailed off. IÕd heard stories, rumors at school,
about people...what they did...what adults did.
ÒYes,Ó she laughed. Her voice was high, childish.
ÒBut--How old are you?Ó I asked.
ÒSeventeen,Ó she said. Yes, sheÕd told me that yesterday.
ÒYouÕre too young to be a prostitute!Ó I blurted.
ÒShhh!Ó A finger to her lips. ÒNobody is too young or too old to be a
prostitute, dear. ItÕs illegal, donÕcha know. Anyway, thatÕs the customerÕs
problem, not mine.Ó
ÒYes, I guess it is,Ó I breathed. I did not know whether to keep
stair-stepping or go running out the door. Only two years older than me,
and she was an accomplished whore!
ÒIÕm flying to Europe next week,Ó Kali said softly. ÒWould you like
to cum?Ó I swear thatÕs exactly how she said it.
ÒI-I donÕt know,Ó I replied. But I already did. My mind swirled. In
my head I said Ôno,Õ but my conscience must have been speaking very
softly. ÒYes,Ó came out. At least I think it did. Thinking back, I might
have actually said Ôno.Õ But that wouldnÕt have mattered. Not to someone
like Kali.
***
We stood before a large wooden door. We were in Belgium. ÒThe
cherry of Europe,Ó Kali had told me it was called. Belgium, that is. Well,
it had one more cherry now. Me. Not my cunt, though. IÕd lost that cherry
a year ago, with an ambitious boy in junior high. But my virgin butt, as
Kali was quick to teach me, counted as a cherry too. And my mouth. ÒTwo
out of three isnÕt bad,Ó sheÕd smiled at me on the plane. ÒTwo more than I
have.Ó I liked her. She was frank, yet elegant. I could discuss the most
intimate things with her without feeling dirty. Naughty, maybe, but not
dirty. IÕd asked her a lot on the plane. SheÕd told me incredible things,
said that was just a little of what IÕd know if I stuck with her. Well, I
was stuck with her now, at least for this trip. She was totally paying my
way, from an advance, she said, from the customer we were to meet.
I gulped. The front door of the house we were waiting in front of
opened. It creaked. A lady greeted us and let us in. She was older, a maid.
ÒHelp,Ó as they are called. I wanted her to help me out of my predicament
but knew it was too late.
We were led into a study. A young man sat writing at a desk. He
looked up, startled. Then he smiled. Kali smiled back. I forced a smile
from my lips. He was quite handsome, but I was nervous. Kali was pert,
chic. The man stood and walked out from behind his desk. He was taller
than either of us. I looked up at him, scared. Kali was forthright. Her
eyes gazed into his, her pug nose upturned, her lips sweet and hiding
nothing.
ÒIÕm Alex,Ó he said. He extended his hand in greeting. Kali nodded,
took it, felt it, examined it. As if looking for signs of his life force in the
lines of his palm. She passed his hand to me. Anxiously I shook it, my
fingers limp. He squeezed my hand. It hurt a little.
ÒI am under stress,Ó he said, turning again to Kali. ÒI have inherited
a great deal of money. My father died recently, leaving me all his
businesses. A Robert Maxwell type, with as many debts as assets. I have
had to make many decisions. I need...Ó His eyes wavered. He seemed
afraid to ask.
ÒWhy donÕt you visit a dungeon?Ó Kali asked. Her voice was smug,
diffident. As if she didnÕt care. As a six-year-old IÕd said that to a nerd
once. He had no girlfriend. ÒGo to a singles bar,Ó IÕd snapped, playing with
my playdoh. When I turned eight I started making penises out of my
playdoh, but then I was too young to know.
Kali sat on the corner of AlexÕs dress. Her skirt was short. Her
thighs showed, right to the tops of her stockings. You could see her garter
snaps where they held her stockings up. They were frilly, soft. Her legs
were like sheathed cinnamon, well-tanned. I guessed she had tan lines
underneath her clothes, where her shifting breasts and hidden cunny
waited. Kali flipped through a phone book. Alex stood, watching. I drew
close to him, clasped his hand. It was moist. He looked down at me. His
eyes caught mine, then dipped lower. My jacket was half-unbuttoned. I
wore no blouse underneath, just a corset. It did not cover my breasts. He
contemplated me. I knew I should leave at once. I was no whore, no tart!
But instead I caught sight of his bulge, his cockstand, buried in his pants,
rising up, a lump in his trousers. I gazed at his bulge as he gazed at my
curves.
ÒCome here, you naughty girl! Dial this number for me!Ó Kali
beckoned. With a blushing face I dropped AlexÕs hand and wandered over to
her. To maintain my innocence I let my finger rise to my mouth, catch in
the corner of my lips.
Kali was not fooled. She reached down behind me, in back of me. She
yanked up the back of my miniskirt. ÒSee? She wears no panties,Ó Kali
said to Alex. I reddened. I turned my head and regarded my bare tushy
over my shoulder. AlexÕs eyes settled on my snowy globes and he smiled a
manÕs smile.
ÒYou made me,Ó I said accusingly to Kali. In hunching over to lift my
skirt sheÕd let her own slide up farther. Her legs were spread and you
could see her crotch between her thighs. Pink translucent panties, cupping
a quim I guessed was already wet. I knew I was. I was trembling with my
excitement. There was an ache in my belly now, not butterflies.
My dress hiked up, my cheeks huddled, cleft and softly naked, Alex
unzipped his trousers and pulled himself out. I emitted a little scream. It
was of fear, but of admiration too. He was massive! His thing pronged out
at me, manly, eager, throbbing with lifeblood and dripping already at the
tip.
ÒPut yourself away, sir!Ó Kali scolded. SheÕd let him take it out,
though, perhaps to size him up, to see what we were in for. I did not like
at all what I was in for. SheÕd told me IÕd have to lose my cherry on this
trip, my butthole cherry.
ÒNot with him,Ó I whispered to Kali. My eyes were pleading. She
smiled. Alex, stuffing himself back into his trousers with much
difficulty, overheard.
ÒWhat? You will damn well screw with me!Ó Alex blurted. He was
the manager again, the CEO.
ÒShe means her ass, Alex,Ó Kali said soothingly. ÒSheÕs an anal
virgin. DonÕt you think youÕre too big to pop her? YouÕre a monster!Ó She
grinned. There was wickedness in her grin.
ÒI didnÕt mean to yell,Ó Alex said. ÒI need to get away from that. My
employees all hate me, right now.Ó
ÒDonÕt worry, I can help,Ó Kali replied. She purred like a cat. ÒI can
see I have my work cut out for me, with Hercules here, and Sleeping
Beauty.Ó She gave my bare bottom a slap. ÒCall this number!Ó Kali
ordered. I looked down at the phone book. ÒAuthentic London Dungeons, in
Holland!Ó it read. There was a merriness in its tone. Carefully I looked at
the number and punched it into the phone on AlexÕs desk.
***
We rode in a limo. It travelled fast. We drove at Autobahn speeds.
In back we sat quietly together, the three of us, watching a tv screen.
There was a game show on, where young female contestants were relieved
of their clothing. It was from Italy. Alex wanted to fuck but Kali told him
he must wait.
ÒYou must learn to conserve your strength sir, not always popping
off at every moment,Ó she consoled him...
GOLLIWOGG
Copyright 1996 by Alan Freer
ROADKILL
Blasting its diesel horn,
an 18 wheeling nervous breakdown
mauls Golliwogg--
splats his mind
leaves the intelligence
of a dead skunk
on the roadside.
WASTED FORESKIN
A feebleminded Golliwogg drools
down a rumpled straight jacket.
The sterile walls of a padded room
entertain thoughts
of winged ponies, pink elephants and God.
Golliwogg lies slumped alone,
cast out
like an infantÕs wasted foreskin.
AND IN THE END...
We Must Return to
TRADITIONAL VALUES!
ÒUntil the end of the last century, the age of consent was ten.Ó
- Playboy, January 1997, pg. 41.
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