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BYE, BYE, LADIES
ÒSeeing ÔLolitaÕ at last reveals that Lyne has translated NabokovÕs
classic with sensitivity, intelligence and style. ... ÔIÕm very proud of
this movie,Õ [says creator Adrian Lyne], speaking from Rome. ÔAnd I
think itÕs important that it be seen.Õ ... Lyne is ÔstunnedÕ at what he
sees as the atmosphere of cultural constriction in America: ÔSix year-
olds who kiss each other in school are charged with sexual
harassment.ÕÓ
- Newsweek, October 6, 1997, pg. 72.
(Currently there is no U.S. distributor for the $60 million film ÔLolitaÕ
because, in the words of one studio executive, ÒPedophiliaÕs a hard
sell.Ó - h.j.)
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: JOE CAMEL
Issue No. 297
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Pussy Playland
Chapter Four
Jeff reached down and grabbed me beneath my arms. With one pull
he yanked me straight up to my feet. My boobs jumped and bobbled on my
chest. I gasped. My hips fell forward, presenting my bush to the wall. I
tottered, finally found my balance. He slapped my bottom hard to wake me
up. I was a newborn, newly in the world after my first real heavy-duty,
butt wrenching fucking. I winced, howled, at the pain of his slapping palm.
ÒOooh, donÕt!Ó I scolded. He did not hit me again. He liked letting me
have a little power. He turned me carefully around and with SherryÕs help
we walked slowly out from the maze of equipment. JeffÕs penis bounced
merrily, not stiff but not deflated, still tantalized by all the youthful
female flesh he had at his disposal. We were, indeed, his to do with as he
pleased.
ÒJeff, letÕs go upstairs and take a break,Ó Sherry suggested. Jeff
yawned.
ÒAlright, but weÕre coming back down here,Ó Jeff said. ÒNo excuses.
IÕve got you both (he looked at Sherry) for the entire weekend. Kelly
doesnÕt get sent back home until Monday morning.Ó
Sherry smiled and showed no disappointment. I think she was
starting to like me as a real person, instead of just as someone who could
be brought into their marriage to make her husband happy, or to satisfy
some kinky longing they both felt to share themselves with a third person.
ÒShe can stay, dear, provided we go to the beach next weekend and
pick up a boy,Ó Sherry said. Jeff looked at her. I watched in amazement as
these two lovers, this husband and his wife, clashed a little. Her eyes
were dark, fiery. His were a little glazed. He was satisfied. HeÕd gotten
to shoot out his sperm and his fight was spent for the moment. I had no
doubt he could be a very demanding master, insisting on his way in all
things but, like most men (I guessed!) he was so satisfied and sated right
now he had no desire to argue.
ÒAlright,Ó Jeff said. His penis actually grew a little as he said it.
Did he like the idea of seeing a young man poke himself into his wife? Did
he have some deep, repressed fantasy of poking the young man himself? I
didnÕt know.
We stepped up to the ladder. Jeff climbed up first. I watched his
hairy butt as he climbed. He needed to go first because neither Sherry or I
were strong enough to lift up the trap door. His balls swung merrily as he
climbed. TheyÕd been strung up tightly to his groin, full of passion, when
weÕd come down. Now they just swung aimlessly, loose and spent. His
dick was retracting. It dripped precum down on us as he went up the
ladder.
There was a slow screech of hinges as the door protested being
lifted. Jeff puffed out his breath, pushed harder, and at last got the better
of the heavy door. It fell with a bang against the floor in the study. I
could see nothing above. The sun had set. The house was dark.
ÒOW!Ó Jeff bumped his head on the ceiling trying to find his way out
through the opening. Sherry and I giggled. We really were prisoners down
here. I hoped Jeff never had a heart attack fucking us. WeÕd starve, with
nothing but a half-eaten cake to feed ourselves on until we finally expired.
I went up the ladder next. Sherry stayed below to follow me, and
help me if I needed it. IÕd never climbed up before. She had Jeff had
played down here before, and knew their way back up in the dark better
than I did. Behind me, below me, the candles in the dungeon were burning
low. Jeff and SherryÕs one sop to cleaning up had been to flick off the
lights at the back of the dungeon. In a dwindling pool of candlelight I
climbed up the twelve foot ladder and, just as I had to scoot through the
trapdoorÕs opening, Jeff flicked on the lights in the study.
I poked my head up through the opening in the floor. I was greeted by
the sight of JeffÕs penis. I looked up at it with childish, innocent eyes. He
was big even when he was spent. Then, elf-like, I ascended into his world.
He took my arm and lifted me the final foot. I landed on my feet in his
study. It was as if heÕd just lifted me off of some carnival ride.
Sherry came up behind us. I turned as her head broke through the
opening and felt a strange sensation as she was greeted, looking up, by the
sight of my bare bottom. She climbed the rest of the way herself, stood,
tossed her hair back from her face.
ÒWell, wasnÕt that fun?Ó Sherry smiled. She stood back from the
dungeonÕs opening so Jeff could bang the door back down into place. She
bent and pulled the throw rug over it. Now it was disguised. Nobody knew.
For all the world this was just a study filled with law books and guides to
our stateÕs penal code. And, in the corner, I saw Jeff had started to pick
up some medical books. They seemed to be mostly about girls; how they
worked and functioned and birthed and grew breasts and had periods. Girls
and Women, their bodies, their parts, but not, it seemed, what they
thought or felt about their bodies and parts. Just how they worked. Men
see us as bodies, I guess. Bodies to be fucked and spermed and made
pregnant with their seed. ItÕs up to us to figure out the rest. I drew close
to Sherry and sought her hand. She accepted it. At least we had each
other. Jeff hustled us out of his study and closed the door.
ÒCall Angela,Ó he said to Sherry.
ÒI will, honey,Ó Sherry replied. ÒThe maid,Ó she said to me. ÒWe
gave her a cell phone so she could come up and clean for us whenever we
need it.Ó We drifted down the hall to the kitchen and Sherry picked up a
cell phone and dialed their maid. Jeff picked up a banana. He peeled it and
squirted it with a bottle of honey. He came close to me and put it to my
lips.
ÒJeff, donÕt you ever think about anything else?Ó I asked him. I
smiled but I was a little baffled. He simply used the opportunity of my
speaking to force me to take the banana. He made me eat it all the way
down to the end. I heard Sherry talking to Angela as I was force-fed the
banana. When she hung up and turned around she saw me with my cheeks
bulging with the fruit.
ÒAlways playing with my hubby, hmmm?Ó Sherry asked me
accusingly. She reached out and pinched one of my nipples.
ÒOwww!Ó I said. I was helpless between them. Jeff made her relent
and together we went to the bathroom in their master bedroom. We
showered together. There was a little intimacy, but mostly we just
wanted to get clean. Sherry had me bend over in the shower and she used a
special spray nozzle to hose out my bottom. Poor Jeff. His seed did not
breed babies in me but instead got washed down the drain.
We stepped out, toweled off. ÒWhen weÕre ready to go again IÕll have
you take a pill,Ó Sherry said to me. ÒI do NOT want you pregnant with my
husbandÕs sperm.Ó She turned to Jeff. ÒWe should have been more careful,
honey.Ó Then she frowned a little. She poked him in his belly. ÒYou
wouldnÕt mind getting her pregnant, would you? It would just give you an
excuse to have two wives and start a harem!Ó Jeff just grinned. He was
no Ôman of the 90Õs.Õ He was an old-fashioned guy. Girls were put on this
earth to be possessed and fucked. Sherry put her hand between his legs
and drew out her husbandÕs penis. It was still long, even after heÕd shot
all he had into me. She regarded it. This was the organ of the man sheÕd
married; her organ as much as his. Hers to put to use in making children
for the two of them. ÒI ought to cut this off, you naughty, lusty boy!Ó
Sherry said spitefully. Did she guess he might try to see me after our one
weekend together? She turned to me and slapped my tummy. ÒJust one
weekend together,Ó she warned me. ÒJust one. This cute little tummy of
yours is NOT going to swell up with my husbandÕs sperm, no matter what.
IÕve got plenty of coat hangers, honey!Ó Sherry said. I think she was
feeling a little frustrated because IÕd gotten her husbandÕs all down in the
dungeon.
Jeff put a hand behind each of our necks. He reached right through
our long, thick tumbling hair and gripped us hard.
ÒGirls, weÕre going to bed,Ó Jeff said. And with that he turned us
both around so we faced the door. He marched us straight into the
bedroom, our tits bouncing like melons. He made us pull back the covers of
his big bed and he put us into it.
Sherry and I each fell asleep with a new dog collar around our neck.
We were chained by our necks to the bedposts on either side of Jeff. He
owned us, we were his. He fell asleep snoring and we had to content
ourselves to liking his protection. His arms encircled us and his cock,
perhaps dreaming of us as he slept, began to grow again.
In the darkness I awoke. I had to go to the bathroom. What could I
do? Did I dare to wake Jeff? I didnÕt want to pee in their bed. I saw a
shadow move past the bedroom door. Eyes peered in. I started. My hand
flew to my throat.
A voice asked, ÒIs anything to be cleaned in here?Ó It was Angela!
ÒN-No,Ó I whispered in response. We were still squeaky clean from
our bath. We had just started playing in here.
A cloud stole back from the moon. Its light thrust into the bedroom
and all was illuminated. My figure, quite nude, lay upon the sheets. The
night had warmed. Our coverlet and sheet had been thrown back in our
sleep to keep ourselves from getting hot. Angela stared in at me. The tips
of my breasts poked skyward. My tummy was flat despite my playing and
my hips were trim, still a little childish, waiting to fill out. My bush was
newly fleeced and my legs were long, with slim ankles. Around my neck,
quite embarrassing for me at the moment, was a dog collar, chained to a
post of the bed. I put my hands to my pussy and held myself, lest I pee on
the sheets.
ÒUnlock... unlock me,Ó I whispered to Angela.
ÒI mustnÕt,Ó she answered.
ÒI...Ó Could I say it to this ancient woman? She had a kind of dignity
despite her years. She looked in at me like my grandmother might have.
ÒI... I have to pee,Ó I said.
ÒI mustnÕt,Ó she said again, her voice more insistent. She turned
away. I bit my lip. I felt a sudden onrushing of need. And then, quite
suddenly, it happened. I peed in the bed!
I heard Angela go out. The front door shut and she locked it. Jeff
turned, almost awoke, but fell asleep again. I think you only wake up at
night if you pee yourself. If somebody else pees, you might or might
notice it, like you donÕt notice a bed wet with sweat until you awake in
the morning. Jeff began snoring again. Sherry, opposite me, did not stir at
all.
I lay there in the darkness, feeling awful. But, at last, I rolled atop
Jeff. He did not awaken. I was light. Perched safely atop him, I at last
fell asleep again.
ÒWho wet the bed?!Ó Sherry hollared. I woke. I turned my head
sleepily. I was about to admit that I had when she blamed her husband.
ÒJeff, PLEASE donÕt just make a mess whenever you feel like it,Ó
Sherry exclaimed. ÒI know youÕre a very happy husband and I do everything
just for you, but donÕt just pee without bothering to get up!!!Ó
ÒI- gosh, did I do that?Ó Jeff asked himself aloud. Then he burped.
That seemed to seal his fate.
AT THE DINNER TABLE
by John Grey
here we are
in the enclosure with our fellow beasts
and feeling pretty safe
because these relationships are long tested;
mama, pass me the okra
or the Hemingway,
the one tastes green and fleshy,
the other shot himself
in the head
and my father who says that
the source of everything that provides
brings with it nostalgia
for that source,
and I add that the Arabian Oryx
is dead in the wild,
and my sister, tame as a spoon,
reaches for the glittering ice-cream
faster than her eyes fly open,
oh these relationships
have suffered under more microscopes than Plato,
but we still get away with so much,
like our hearts bouncing
to the tune of the coffee bean
or the way I sneak naked women
to the dinner table,
or the bones of Frank Lloyd Wright
dug up from Unity Chapel Cemetery;
but good to be in a cage
where no oneÕs peering in,
where all dreams are paired off
with their prison,
where the okra rises up in clouds
and the potato thickens so hard
the air screams land ho!
and that gravy spreads
to the edges of the plate in great oceans
and you can live easily
in this landscape
and the voices that swirl around you
are like gods
and religion sprouts in
the touch of flatware,
in the death of a bird,
the chill of ruptured milk;
and Hemingway,
called to dinner in Idaho
of all places,
and that oryx,
hearing the cry as well,
surprised to find itÕs the dinner,
and lives netted by old winds,
hauled in off the common
into family
where the winds are safely dead,
elbows on tables and out of danger,
mouths telling what we did
a hundred years ago,
and food creating the roads
and the buildings
that will someday be highways
and Malls
when, at the prompting
of all thatÕs gone before,
our subject matter,
fearful of being chosen,
chooses us
AND IN THE END...
WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN
ÒGirls were nubile at ten, and premarital morals were free and
easy... Children of both sexes went about, till their teens, naked except
for ear-rings and necklaces; the girls, however, showed a beseeming
modesty by wearing a string of beads around the middle.
Ò...It was a well-organized government, with a better record of
duration than any other in history.Ó
- Will and Ariel Durant on Egypt. (The Story of Civilization, Volume 1,
pgs. 166, 169, and 162.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
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copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 297 EMISSION