Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 266
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Three
ÒOh, help! IÕve got two big sausages after me!Ó Polly hollered, her
voice bubbling with joy, and her boobies, no doubt, bouncing like frisky
tennis balls on her chest. They were all naked. I was sure of it. Polly
was heedless of her motherÕs warnings not to run about without a training
bra on. (Or, indeed, given her size now, a real bra.) The men ran gleefully,
without supporters to protect their balls, their big cocks erect and
bouncing up and down like poles that high-jumpers extend before
themselves to jump the high jump. Except much thicker, of course. Yes,
much thicker. I longed to raise myself up and look. I was glad Andre had
recovered from his whipping between the mayfair poles, on the dias. Rose
had not hit him hard. She knew the value of a nice big pair of balls. And
AndreÕs were a special prize, large enough to make one think of bowling
balls, promising loads of sperm to the females whom he treasured, and
who treasured his balls.
Despite lying with my eyes closed, I could see Polly, infant-like,
running with jiggling bottom cheeks, her fleet legs unsteady, her head
turning back to see how close her beloved pursuers were. And, when the
men really put their minds to it, they would have no trouble catching her.
It would be like chasing down a giggly toddler. Just as I considered this I
heard her yell out with dismay as she found herself captured. Up they
swept her, her feet kicking, her arms struggling, hoping to break free. Her
tummy heaved and her breasts shook, their points woefully hard, for she
knew she could not be captured without punishment. Such naughty words
sheÕd used in teasing them! Laughingly the men carried her off, big men,
big as football linebackers, with poor Polly totally imprisoned now, held, I
think, in LouisÕs arms, for she had started by teasing him.
Oh, how I wanted to see Polly get her just desserts! I tried to rouse
myself but my legs were still so stiff from Louis doing me, I could not get
up. I fell asleep again. In my dreams I replaced Polly with myself. Louis
and Andre and Branson and even Lurch were all chasing me, through the
trees and round the limo. At last, to escape them, but really to let them
have me, I dove into the pool. And, of course, when I surfaced from my
dive I saw all four of them arranged around the sides of the pool, standing
like sentries, watching me. Their arms were folded and my watery
sanctuary had become my watery grave. Their cocks stood out like tree
trunks. Then, like PinocchioÕs noses, their cocks began growing. As I
paddled in the pool I watched their cocks grow out, out, out, finally
looming over my head as I hunched down, hoping to avoid them. And then
LouisÕs cock rammed straight into my mouth. I could not stop him. He
pried my lips apart. I was forced to suck upon him. Then he flexed his
cock and I was lifted up out of the pool, struggling, trying to free my
mouth, but there was no escape for me.
ÒLook, IÕve caught a fish!Ó Louis crowed, and for a moment I could
not tell whether he was speaking of me, caught on the pole of his cock, or
was really speaking, outside my window, with little Polly wriggling in his
arms, hoping to escape him.
Rose appeared. I thought she was real but then realized I was in my
dream again. ÒBring her to my skillet,Ó she intoned. ÒI will cook her for
your supper, men.Ó And her skillet was the dias. I was tied down to it and
my legs spread. ÒYes, a most beautiful specimen of fish,Ó Rose said,
clinically, inspecting my oyster-lipped cunt. ÒMost difficult to catch,
except for expert fishermen like yourselves, of course,Ó she added, eyeing
Louis and Andre.
ÒOh, it is not difficult for us,Ó Louis said, diffidently, sitting nude
at the table in the sunroom now, tying a napkin under his chin. ÒWe catch
a new one every day.Ó
ÒHurry up, IÕm hungry,Ó Andre urged. He banged his knife and fork
down on the table. Underneath it his big prick wriggled impatiently. Then
Polly shot past, outside, timing herself by LurchÕs watch as she ran around
the castle. I followed her somehow and found that we had to stop and
jump through the hopscotch squares at the front of the castle before we
could run around it again. Our tits leapt and swung as we played
hopscotch, our scissoring legs showing off our mounds without shame.
Cars appeared on the desolate road beyond the castle and watched us
through its gate with X-Ray eyes.
ÒHi,Ó I heard. A nose nuzzled mine. Cheyenne. I blinked away my
sleep and saw her lying beside me, her face pressed close.
ÒHi,Ó I replied, smiling. We kissed. Our mouths were sweet. We
kissed again. Her hand, which had lain protectively over my waist, passed
down to my bottom and palmed it. I let her feel me. I spread my legs a
little to invite her explorations. We kissed a third time. She slipped a
finger between my legs and sought my spot. I kept my legs splayed apart
and we kissed again as she found me and delicately touched me in my
special place.
We did not hear the creeping of footsteps. Suddenly, with no
warning, our bedcovers were unfurled. We were exposed, fish gasping and
wriggling on a dock. Rose stood over us, poking her head through the
canopy of my bed. SheÕd unveiled our naughtiness.
ÒGirls!Ó Rose said. ÒAre there so few men in my castle that you
must entertain each other? All by yourselves?Ó
ÒWe were just playing,Ó Cheyenne explained. We tensed our heinies,
worried she might slap us. Instead she turned her attention to me. She
ran both her hands over my bottom, pressed them into my newly whitened
flesh.
ÒGood,Ó Rose said. ÒYou have a nice, cream-white bottom again,
Fleury. And yours is nice too, Cheyenne,Ó she added, for my girlfriend
seemed put out that she was not included in RoseÕs inspection. Rose
vented my cheeks and examined my hole. ÒAh, how snug and tight you are,
Fleury, despite the best efforts of some to enlarge you there. Someday we
will have to make you bigger. There is no question about that. I have a
little leather belt. It looks like an ordinary belt but there are three chains
that loop down and connect themselves under it. Sort of like panties,
except without the connecting bits of cloth. Just the skeleton, as it were,
made of small chains. And within the back chain there is a brass ring. It
fits right over the anus. IÕll put you in those little panties someday. And
when youÕve got them on, of course, we can then begin to widen you. There
are a selection of shafts that come with the panties. Each day we will
plug a new one through the brass ring and, doing that, send it right up your
anus. YouÕll wear the panties all day, plugged up your ass. YouÕll walk
around the castle, doing what youÕre told, or as you like, but of course
everyone will see that youÕre in training, because youÕll just wear the
little chain panties, and nothing else. IÕll want you to stay out of the sun
since I like girlÕs bottoms white. Perhaps you can drape a little towel
over your tushy if you lie out in the sun. Just like IÕd expect you to do
now. To keep your ass white, so when itÕs whipped we can see all the
stripes.Ó
ÒIt sounds...captivating,Ó I answered. My speech slurred because I
was still a little sleepy, and her words had induced a kind of prisoner-like
listlessness in me. She pried my cheeks harder apart and leaned down and
let her breasts tumble out of her low cut, ruffled peasant gown. She blew
softly into my hiney hole.
ÒSo sweet,Ó she said, Cheyenne watching her inspection of me with a
little envy, I think, in her eyes. We both liked being the center of
attention, even if it meant showing off our fannies. Rose lifted one of her
big gourd-like breasts, heavy like a gourd but round like a grapefruit, and
kissed and licked her nipple, preparing it, but for what? Then I knew. She
let her breast drop into my bottomfurrow and she stabbed my hole with
her hard nipple.
ÒOh!Ó I cried. I had not expected it. Fiercely she jabbed me with her
nipple but I had little trouble taking it, for it was just a womanÕs nipple,
nothing more.
ÒAh, if only I had a cock,Ó Rose sighed. ÒI would ream you to the
other end of South America and back, my dear.Ó She stood, lifting herself
and taking her tit with her. She upped her dress and I saw she wore no
panties beneath. ÒBut instead IÕm stuck with this useless pussy. Utterly
useless for what IÕd like to do with it sometimes. Look at me! Nothing,
just a mount of dark hair and my twin lips beneath, as if God felt the lips
on my face wouldnÕt be enough for me, and had to give me a second pair.
So IÕve got nothing, just a belly, two pair of lips, and my tits, of course,
sticking out when I walk down the street like balloons and making
everyone think IÕm a bimbo.Ó She sighed again. She lowered her dress and
put her breasts back inside it. She straightened it.
ÒGet up and get ready for dinner, girls,Ó Rose said. ÒWeÕre going to
have fun tonight! DonÕt wear anything. Just come as you are, but see that
your hair and your nails are perfect. Absolutely perfect.Ó She withdrew
her head from the canopy, walked to the door. ÒNo playing in the tub!Ó she
warned. ÒBe good girls. IÕm serious. I want you both on tenterhooks when
you come downstairs, not exhausted because youÕve spent the last hour
frigging each other to death in the bathroom.Ó
ÒYes, maÕam,Ó Cheyenne and I answered. Our voices were musical.
We sounded like small girls at a slumber party, waiting for mom to leave
so we could discuss the finer aspects of boys.
We came downstairs an hour later. Rose led us into the ballroom, a
room weÕd not dined in before. It was huge and had chandeliers in it, six in
all, built of crystal and hanging from the ceiling, sprinkling their light
down on us. I saw a score of people, men and women, elegantly dressed,
but Cheyenne and I, like singing telegram girls, were quite nude, except
that IÕd tied ribbons in my hair and so had she, to make ourselves extra
pretty.
Polly was there. Rose had turned her so that her bottom stuck out
and she was leaning forward over a table. Rose beckoned us. To my
surprise I saw PollyÕs bottom was white. Whatever Louis and Andre had
done to her, they had not whipped her. The day, I realized, had been cloudy.
She had been able to run around naked and yet keep her bottom preserved in
the state Rose preferred it in. Polly was festooned with ribbons like
Cheyenne and I. In addition to decorating her hair they were tied round her
upper arms, and again round her thighs, mid-way, tied off in little bows
with streamers dangling down to her elbows and knees. She was
exceptionally delightful to look at. Rose told me that Polly was to be
served for dessert. Indeed, all three of us were, and we were to decorate
ourselves for the crowd, as they watched. They had already begun their
meal. I wondered when Polly and Cheyenne and I would eat but I did not
ask.
Rose handed me a cannister of whipped cream. ÒDecorate Polly,
would you, Fleury? Be still, Polly. It is only whipped cream.Ó Polly
looked over her shoulder, like a child ignorant but wanting to know, and
not sure it liked the answer. Gracefully I took the whipped cream. I
wanted to appear as ladylike as I could, despite my nudity. I aimed the
cannister carefully and, at RoseÕs direction, I carefully shot a line of
whipped cream down PollyÕs ass crack. ÒDonÕt wiggle, Polly, I want the
line to be perfect,Ó Rose scolded. Polly moved her hips once but I
anticipated her movement and was able to keep my line of cream straight.
As I squirted PollyÕs asscrack, Bambi, who wore a tight corset, met
Cheyenne and drew her aside. ÒMore guests will be coming soon. You must
serve them their appetizer,Ó Bambi told her. I could not study Bambi, but I
caught a glimpse of her and saw that she wore a corset that plumped up
her breasts and left them free, despite its tightness around her middle.
Atop the mounds of her nude breasts her skin was all wet and there were
bits of stray fruit lying atop them. I realized, somehow, that Bambi had
used her own bosoms as a serving tray. SheÕd placed (or perhaps Rose had
done it) bits of fruit atop her uplifted breasts. Then sheÕd gone from guest
to guest and served them this way, offering them her breasts, atop which
was the fruit which they were invited to pluck from her with just their
mouths. Now it was CheyenneÕs turn, and she shivered a little as Bambi
suited her up. Polly, meanwhile, was to be the official dessert. She would
be made modest, perversely, by having whipped cream squirted over all her
private places. Then she would be served this way, and the guests would
lick her clean, making her immodest again, and titillating her and
themselves in the process. I realized all this in a rush, squirting the
whipped cream carefully down the indrawn line of PollyÕs bottom crack.
Rose turned Polly around. The girl looked down at herself as Rose
forced her to jut her hips out at me. Her little cunt made a perfect target.
ÒOoooh, Polly, how indecent you are! Let me cover you up a little,Ó I
offered.
ÒNoooo,Ó Polly whined, but I squirted her nonetheless. Icing-like the
whipped cream spritzed into the hairs of her pubic mound. Then, coating
her thoroughly there, I moved down, parted her legs and squirted her cunny
lips and then continued my line back until it met up with the line of cream
IÕd drawn down her buttcrack. I did not bother to give her cream bikini
drawstrings.
ÒNow for your nipples,Ó I said. I stood and placed the nozzle of the
whipped cream close to her nearest tit. She was trembling. I had to cup
her breast from beneath to hold her wobbling tittie. Then I squirted her
nipple, as she gritted her teeth against the cold of the refrigerated cream
and begged me to stop.
Next I did PollyÕs other nipple. I did not bother to give her bra cups,
just the nipples was enough. No decorative drawstring either. But,
raising my can, I traced a little cream collar round the front of her throat.
Just above her real collar. It looked nice. She looked sweet. I kissed her
blushing cheeks and told her so.
ÒOh, can I wipe it off now?Ó Polly asked, stroking her tummy and
threatening to dip it into the cream that decorated her pubis.
ÒWhy Polly, we just got you properly dressed for the party and you
want to get naked already?Ó Rose teased. ÒBe a good girl and go show off
your cream bikini to the guests. I wonder if youÕd be allowed on a beach
now, since we canÕt see your privates anymore? Of course, you mustnÕt
get your bikini wet. That would truly be a no-no,Ó Rose laughed. She was
clothed in a beautiful red gown that moulded itself to her figure like a
glove. It was cut off at the knees, seductively showing her calves, I
thought. In front her gown dipped so low her nipples showed. Just the top
halves, the pronging tips barely below the hem. It constricted her breasts
a little so that her nipplesÕ tips would stay concealed. But I knew if she
moved incautiously sheÕd find herself displaying her teats right out to the
tips.
Bambi was inventive. Having tied up Cheyenne in a breathlessly
tight corset, she made the girl perch her bare ass on a table and she fitted
the girl into ankle-high boots. Then, finishing that, she did not release
her. Instead she made her stand and then bent her over. Cheyenne
grimaced as the tautly-laced corset creaked and bit into her already trim
waistline, compressing her slim tummy even more. When Cheyenne was
bent double, her fingers brushing her toes, Bambi parted her legs, giving
her a wider stance. Cheyenne looked ready to keel over and Rose rushed to
hold her. She cupped her hands beneath the girlÕs face and stroked her
hair. She watched with approval as Bambi took an oil funnel, the same
type used in gas stations, but brand new and clean, and poked it into
CheyenneÕs tight bottom.
ÒYou must experience submission, Cheyenne,Ó Rose said softly to the
girl, in a reassuring voice, letting her know she approved of all the new
tricks Bambi was thinking up. Rose tossed her hair back over her shoulder,
carelessly, and one of her hemmed in nipples managed to break free of her
low cut bodice. Cheyenne, meanwhile, had no such protection for her
breasts. The corset stopped short of containing them and merely pushed
them upward, so that they could be used as wiggling nude platforms for
fruit.
Polly stood beside me, a hand on my shoulder, a finger in her mouth.
She sucked on it speculatively, watching, as I did, as Bambi took a small
bottle of liquor and popped its cork. Carefully Bambi took hold of the oil
funnel which, in the interim, Rose had been holding in place. Its neck was
most indelicately stuck within CheyenneÕs butthole. The girl shivered,
waiting, first while the cork on the liquor was popped and then as Bambi
took back possession of the funnel. Now all of us watched as Bambi
slowly began pouring the liquor into CheyenneÕs ass.
THE IDIOT REVEALED!
by Detective Joe
I have found out who the primary idiot is who has been fucking with
me. It is: bow@hatchet.net (Tomahawk)
You can see for yourself what I have found. (Use this method if
someone fucks with you):
1. Type this into your web browser: http://www.excite.com/
2. Hit the ÒreturnÓ or ÒenterÓ key on your keyboard.
3. A web page appears. (http://www.excite.com/) You will see a button
marked ÒnewsgroupsÓ on this web page. Click on it.
4. Next, you will see a search field. Click in it, so that a cursor appears
in it. Now, type my old e-mail address into the search field. Type:
Òroller666@aol.comÓ (DonÕt include the quote marks.)
5. Click on the button marked ÒsearchÓ
6. Voila! Up comes a total of about 2,000 messages. The first 20 or so
will appear on your screen. These are the ones you will be most
interested in. Here, you can click on the various messages and see for
yourself all the bullshit that bow@hatchet.net (Tomahawk) and several
other users posted in various newsgroups about me.
AND IN THE END...
ÒNormalÓ men get their reward
ÒMen, for better or for worse, have surrendered their advantage,
and for the next millenium or two, will probably be forced to wear lacy
little dresses.Ó
- SPY magazine, May/June 1997, pg. 49.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 266 EMISSION