Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 254
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Cunt Castle
Chapter Two
Skipping sex, despite the menÕs renewed longing for it, we got out of
the tub and Maria handed us towels. She watched as we dried each other.
The men were tall and well-haired, their cocks up and boldly displayed.
Polly seemed fascinated by the difference between drying her own little
cunny and a manÕs loins, he being huge and erect where she had nothing but
a little slit. We took our time, exciting each other by passing the towels
repeatedly over the sexiest areas, drying each otherÕs loins until they
were re-wetted by their own fluids. I thought then weÕd return to the bed
for sure. After all, it had fresh sheets now. Why not? I was feeling
frisky.
ÒMen, IÕm going to ask you to be on your best behavior,Ó Rose told
Louis and Andre. Bev and Jack were holding hands, standing close by the
bed. ÒI see no reason why a girl canÕt have some fun before sheÕs whipped.
IÕm going to take Polly and Fleury dancing. Just to give them a little air.Ó
With that Rose took Polly and I each by the hand. With newly excited
cunnies and stiff nipples we stepped from the bedroom, naked as jaybirds.
Louis and Andre and Jack and Bev, with Maria in attendance, were left
behind. I looked back, as did Polly. Bev had bright eyes. Her hands had
Jack and Andre by their cocks, with Louis extending his toward her as
well.
ÒI thought they werenÕt supposed to fuck anymore?Ó Polly asked in
an irked tone of voice.
ÒWell, honey, theyÕre not supposed to, and I told them to be good,Ó
Rose replied quietly.
ÒWell, they look like theyÕre GOING TO to me,Ó Polly exclaimed.
ÒLetÕs not worry about them right now,Ó Rose said. ÒIÕll ask Bev to
give me a full report on their behavior later.Ó
ÒWill you spank them if theyÕre bad?Ó Polly inquired.
ÒCertainly! I told them to be good, didnÕt I?Ó Rose said.
ÒOoooh, goody!Ó Polly exclaimed. Her legs danced as we walked,
coltish, slim and childish, long but not fully fatted yet. I was conscious
of my own legs. They were skinny like hers, but not as much. My bottom
was fuller too. Mine had a sense of womanhood about it, while hers still
had those rubbery cheeks that veer a little toward the slim side. Hers
promised, mine delivered, one might say. RoseÕs bottom swayed between
us, round and soft and gracious, the sort one sees on Georgia peaches in
the springtime, walking up church steps with their children, or dancing
with their husbands at evening balls. Her pubic mound was fully furred,
while mine and PollyÕs were fleecy and light. She projected an aura of the
well-mounted woman, unafraid of men, knowledgeable, a good wife. I was
more the saucy high school girl, unsure, willing yet unwilling. Polly
seemed ever more relentlessly wedded to childhood. I think she used it as
a security blanket. She did not have to try to cope with the world if she
could pass herself off as a baby. I at least wanted to try. I wished to look
men in the eye with the confidence Rose had. We strolled down the hall,
calm in our nudity, me copying Rose while Polly skipped alongside. We
met no one. I heard sounds behind bedroom doors that we passed. A moan,
the sound of a whip? Wood breaking? They must be starting early, RoseÕs
guests. I did not ask about the sounds. Polly babbled about how Louis and
Andre needed to be given all sorts of implements on their bottoms, finally
concluding that a bullwhip would be best. Rose humored her. The girl was
sealing her own fate, not theirs.
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A R E A D I N G F U N D has been established for Stephen Knox, imprisoned
in a federal penitentiary for ordering a swimsuit video featuring teenage
girls. To help provide books to Knox (formerly a Phd. candidate at Penn
State), send any amount to: Uncommon Desires Newsletter, P.O. Box 2377,
New York, NY 10185. Make checks payable to: Ophelia Editions.
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We met Joanne and Sylvia, coming up the stairs. They were wet.
They had a boy with them, from the workmenÕs huts. They had found him,
they said, while they played outside in the rain. Rose scolded them for
getting their dresses wet. She ordered the boy back to his hut.
ÒTake Polly to her room,Ó Rose said. ÒWeÕre going dancing at the
cabana. You can take a quick shower in her room, then meet me
downstairs.Ó
Polly waved goodbye to me and went off with Joanne and Sylvia. The
girls did not mind losing their boyfriend. They were here to serve, and be
trained. They expected Rose to correct them. When they left the castle
they could do whatever they pleased. They had come here for something
different in this age of the liberated woman. They had come to find
fulfillment in the older ways, of servitude and obedience. Happily Polly
told them of all she expected to happen to Andre and Louis.
ÒAnd Rose will whip them, with a big, big bullwhip that will make
their balls bounce up and down!Ó Polly crowed. Her punishments for the
men were getting more elaborate by the minute. Joanne and Sylvia
exchanged glances. They knew Polly was sewing her own doom more than
that of anyone else, though Polly herself was oblivious. She pranced along
between them, describing in spooky terms all the things that must
certainly happen to the men if they disobeyed Rose.
Rose took me to my bedroom. Again I looked at the canopied four-
poster where sheÕd promised me I would taste the whip. A corporal
punishment, with no mercy, unlike any IÕd ever had before. The sheets lay
waiting, fresh and crisp, to receive me.
ÒOh, do it now, get it over with!Ó I said suddenly, turning to her.
ÒNot yet, dear,Ó Rose replied. I sank to my knees and found myself
pressing my nose pleadingly into her delta. It was soft, silky, dark as the
hair on her head. She consoled my anxiety by placing a hand on the back of
my head. I stuck out my tongue, felt between her legs for her clit.
ÒAh! Please!Ó Rose cried. IÕd found her spot. I tongued it with
babyish little licks, like Polly might. She said ÔpleaseÕ again and I knew
not whether she wished me to continue or stop.
I clasped her womanly thighs and parted them wider. I urged my
titties between her legs. She let her knees buckle a little, clearly
enjoying my efforts. But we were going dancing, in public! We must not
play like this, making ourselves all wet.
ÒEnough!Ó Rose said. Roughly she pulled me up my my hair. She held
my blonde locks in her hands a moment, staring at me, her eyes and her
cheeks hot. At last she let go. ÒI want you to show off your flawless
bottom once more before itÕs whipped,Ó Rose said to me.
ÒWill it still be flawless tomorrow?Ó I gulped. I felt butterflies
lift off anew in my tummy. This was getting serious.
ÒNot for a few days,Ó Rose replied. ÒThen it should be fine again.
Unless Louis wants a replay.Ó
ÒI donÕt want a play, let alone...Ó
ÒI know,Ó she said, putting a finger to my lips. ÒGet dressed. There
are bikinis in the drawer. Just wear a bikini. Nothing else.Ó I walked to
the dresser drawer in my room and opened it. There, arrayed before me,
were all sorts of colorful bikinis just my size. Had someone gone out and
bought them for me?
ÒTheyÕre beautiful,Ó I sighed. They were skimpy too. I picked one
that had a nice full bottom to it. Rose might want me showing off my ass
in public, but I didnÕt. LouisÕ eyes were all I needed. I tried not to think of
what he might be doing right at this moment.
Rose walked over to me. She put a hand on my back and did not stop
me from slipping on the bikini with the modest panties. She helped me tie
them. To my chagrin I found the panties didnÕt cover all of my bottom
crack. I dared not ask to exchange them. I was lucky Rose hadnÕt insisted
on a thong. She rummaged through the suits and I realized there were
bigger ones intermixed with what I thought were all just for me. She
found one her size and I helped her into it.
ÒArmed for battle!Ó Rose said to me when weÕd both dressed. We
looked like two girls in an underwear store, wearing just little bikinis,
mine cotton, hers leather, but they were decorated for swimming. Mine
had pretty dolphins with bulb noses swimming across it. Hers were
imprinted with eels. The fabric of both our suits was impossibly thin. My
nipples stuck up their nubs despite my bra cups. Her mound was not quite
covered. It bulged where it was covered, letting the eye see clearly that
she had a nice nest. I wondered how Polly would look. She took my arm
and we marched with a sense of gay abandon back into the hall and down
the staircase at the front of the house. I wondered if sheÕd made a little
wet spot in her panties from my licking.
Polly greeted us outside in a plastic swimsuit. She was
investigating a cricket, holding it in her hands and trying to figure out
what made it chirp. She showed it to us. Joanne and Sylvia loitered
beside her, mildly intrigued by the cricket. Joanne wore a bikini of felt,
SylviaÕs was woolen, a matrix of interlaced little bits of yarn. She was
lucky it was dark out. I think in the daylight one might have been able to
see thru the yarn to her pubis. Polly, I thought, was lucky too. Bright
sunlight would have quickly heated up her fashionable little suit. SheÕd
have found it burning her like a vinyl car seat. Joanne, I suspected,
wouldnÕt make more than two laps in a pool in her suit. It looked like
water would fray it and make it fall apart. But a little sweat from
dancing wouldnÕt be too bad for it and that, I guessed, is as much water as
weÕd see tonight. We were dressed for swimming but weÕd just be
nightclubbing in the city, along the shore.
Rose complimented Polly for catching the cricket. Polly wanted to
bring it with her in the limo but Rose told her to let it go. She did, calling
goodbye to it as it flitted away into the night.
Chapter Three
The five of us squeezed into the back seat of the limo. I think it
made us feel more secure somehow, going off into the night, with nothing
to protect us except our faithful driver. He would shadow us, Rose said, to
keep us out of danger.
ÒBut still, we must have our wits about us. Men will be men, you
know. LetÕs support each other and help each other. And weÕll definitely
team up on any women who bug us.Ó
ÒYes!Ó we all agreed. So this would be a real nightclub, not
something specially arranged by Rose with one of her customers. It would
be just us in our teensy bikinis against all the world. I shivered at the
thought. Mine didnÕt even cover my bottom properly, but Rose assured me
that everyone would be really cool and as daringly dressed as I.
ÒThe beach atmosphere is totally liberating,Ó Rose told me. ÒThe
cover charge where weÕre going is $200.00 per person, so you can rest
assured we wonÕt be partying with mulish college boys on spring break. On
the other hand, drug lords can afford to get in sometimes, and their
cronies, so donÕt think you can just let your guard down completely. And
women are always bitchy.Ó Polly nodded.
ÒYes, they always take too LONG sitting on the commode!Ó Polly said,
brushing back her hair and sticking her nose up.
ÒCommode! Where did you learn that?Ó I asked her.
ÒI know big words, Furry,Ó Polly told me, using my nickname. I
wasnÕt as furry as Rose, but I guess I did have more now than when I was
10. So, furry it was, even though most men might say I needed a little
more.
ÒHow do you spell it?Ó I asked her.
ÒCommode,Ó Polly said with an important air. ÒC- um, O and, M and,
uh, MODE!Ó Polly announced.
ÒCan you spell potty?Ó I teased.
ÒNo, but I can SMELL potty!Ó Polly said, giggling, and I had to pinch
her for that. For which she started pulling my hair.
MAGAZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Club International, June 1997, $5.99. Club International, P.O. Box 133,
Mount Morris, IL 61054.
I just about dropped dead when I saw the cover of this magazine. I
mean, look at that little blonde on the left side of the cover. Ye Gods! Who
is that little angel, and what is she doing nude on the cover of a dirty
menÕs magazine?
All three of these girls, frankly, look like theyÕve descended from
Heaven. I havenÕt been very impressed with the ÒAngelsÓ from VictoriaÕs
Secret that are currently on MTV. They look too old to be angels, unless
theyÕre angels from a senior home. But not these girls, on the cover of
Club International! The one on the left looks 12. The one on the right,
though more mature, is still youthful looking. The brunette, in the middle,
looks like she convinced the two blondes to come visit me on earth and to
leave their wings, harps, and panties behind.
As you can imagine, this issue was all but sold out at Tower, even
though itÕs newly released. I was forced to settle for a banged-up copy.
Now I have these three angels hanging right next to my computer. TheyÕve
earned a special place of honor, right next to Jackeline Marie from
Playboy.
(If you girls want to stop by my dumpster and autograph your photos,
IÕll be happy to change my socks for you.) (And shave and put on some
underarm deodorant too.) (Plus my pants.)
I have learned something recently. Go to the bookstore. Go to the
porno rack. Look closely at the magazines that are there. Some magazines
will be present in quantity, looking all crisp and new. But, studying the
rack intently, youÕll find that there are only one or two copies of some
magazines. Usually theyÕre rather damaged.
Those are the good issues. For a long time, I did not know this. If I
saw that there were only one or two copies of a magazine, and they were
all dented up, IÕd avoid them. Big mistake! The reason thereÕs only one or
two copies left is because that particular issue is very, very popular.
I thought I was different from other males. I assumed that, as an
individual, I had tastes unique to myself. But, since becoming aware of
the Ôdented magazine theoryÕ about nine months ago, I have tested it
repeatedly.
What IÕve found is that IÕm not different from other males. The
issues that are almost sold out, because those particular issues proved to
be popular, are the very issues that I find to be the best for that month.
So, whatÕs in the June 1997 issue of Club International? Well, the
cover alone is worth the price. But, inside, there is a pictorial titled
ÒKitchen Kicks.Ó Four luscious babes undress each other in a kitchen and
make love to each other. Any time you see several attractive females
engaged in plausible, well-photographed lovemaking, you know youÕve got a
top-selling pictorial on your hands. ItÕs the reason, I assume, that this
magazine sold so well.
But thereÕs much more in this issue! ÒRosieÓ plays around with a
bottle. ÒSamanthaÓ plays with ice. And thereÕs a very attractive
centerfold, ÒTina.Ó ÒSleazy RidersÓ features two cute girls and a guy.
And, in a pictorial I found quite exciting, a woman and a man do it in
ÒBathroom Boffers.Ó
Sadly, the little Angel on the cover of this magazine isnÕt inside the
issue. Why? I have no idea. (Maybe sheÕs too young!) Anyhow, even though
you do get sort of ripped off, since none of the girls on the cover are in
this magazine, itÕs still an issue worth buying.
Vogue, May, $3.00. Vogue, P.O. Box 52155, Boulder, CO 80323.
Review: This week, JonBenet Ramsey isnÕt on the cover of every
tabloid in America. Some tabloids have a different person on their cover
this week. Brooke Shields.
This is quite amazing. America, which claims to hate pedophiles,
replaces little JonBenet with Brooke. Who is Brooke Shields? Her
greatest claim to fame is that she played a 12-year-old prostitute in the
movie Pretty Baby.
So when America isnÕt obsessing over a 6-year-old model, itÕs
obsessing over an actress who played a pubescent prostitute. IÕve got to
hand it to my fellow Americans -- you claim to despise Ôsexual
perversion,Õ but you think about it all the time! There is a maxim, you
know, which is, ÒYou are what you read.Ó And the late Earl Nightingale
claimed that ÒYou are what you think about.Ó Hence, given what AmericaÕs
constantly thinking about, only one conclusion is possible: America is a
nation of perverts and pedophiles.
As an honorable and decent individual, I skipped buying any tabloids
this week. I bought Vogue. It has an adult woman on the cover.
Admittedly, sheÕs a young adult woman. And, I admit, I bought it because
she reminded me of a 15-year-old girl I admired (when I was 14). And,
yes, I did take the magazine home and jack off to it, thinking about the
15-year-old girl. But, still, at least I wasnÕt wallowing in pedophilia by
buying the weekly tabloids!
Anyway, I donÕt really have anything to say about this magazine.
After all, itÕs a ladiesÕ magazine, for women. I just bought it to jack off
to the cover.
AND IN THE END...
Why we ÒneedÓ prisons
THE ESSENCE OF AMERICA
ÒMost white people were not going to let blacks remain in this
country free. If the slaves are liberated, theyÕre gonna have to be
removed outside the country. [Even Thomas] Jefferson had argued that.Ó
- (white) author Stephen Oates, (Booknotes, C-SPAN, April 27, 1997.)
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copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 254 EMISSION