Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 4   

Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
Love Child

Chapter Five
  
         Mistress brought me a bottle of Perrier water, the large size, and 
made me gulp down the whole thing.  She insisted on holding the bottle.  
Some spilled on my breasts.  She said I'd be punished later for that.
         Still I could not relieve myself, at least not with my panties on.  
It was rather like when I'd been in Kimber's swimming pool.  I'd been 
mad at her once, and thought I'd get revenge on her by peeing in her pool.  
But I couldn't go.  You'd think being wet, with water lapping at your 
shoulders, you could just let your pee out into your bikini.  But I 
couldn't.  And now I couldn't, either.
         Elena yanked me up by my hair and ordered Kyle to follow.  I was 
led stumbling into the ballroom, shivering with my need to pee, Kyle 
traipsing behind.
         I gasped when I saw the condition of the ballroom.  It had indeed 
taken on the true likeness of its name.  People were balling everywhere.  
They were on sofas, the coffee table, one girl even hanging from the 
room's chandelier as a couple lustily ate her out in front and back, 
while a third player stood waiting with a large, buzzing vibrator that 
seemed intended for the girl's ass.
         "Tch, tch, you must get out of these wet panties," I heard a woman 
say to Kyle as she inadvertently found herself between two semi-nude 
couples.  An equally bold reception waited for me.  A young man, about 
25, was fucking a woman who was bent over in front of him, her mouth 
fixed on the cock of a second man.  The first man withdrew himself 
from the woman's pussy, leaving her to her remaining paramour.
         Otherwise still dressed, the man turned to me.  The couple beside 
him continued to make love to each other.  Cock glistening, coated 
sweetly with pussy juice, pulsing mightily, he smiled.  He was utterly 
composed.  I marvelled at his self-control.
         "How have you done in your studies today?" the man asked me.  
Trembling uncontrollably, my thighs clenched together, I answered, "I 
remembered sum things, but I forgot sum things too."
         "The things you forgot.  Are they not important?" the man asked, 
seemingly oblivious to his cock, which shivered wetly before me, 
seemingly on the brink of cumming.
         "Y-Yesss," I replied, teeth chattering.
         "Then you should be encouraged to remember better," the man 
said.  My coat was open, my breasts forthrightly displayed, droplets of 
water still twinkling on them.  He put a hand to my belly.  It felt nice, 
warm, reassuring.  Would he make my belly swell?  He turned me 
sideways, lifted the back of my coat a little higher.  My bottom showed, 
boldly, rashly, the cheeks imprinted with the pattern of the straw seat, 
a few whip marks blazing across it.  "Your ass...should it not be 
corrected from time to time?  Thoroughly corrected?  So that you 
might remember better?"
         "I-I suppose so," I said in a jittery voice.  Aroused, woefully 
bursting to pee, I was beyond any coherent, intelligent response.  He 
could have offered to brand my bottom at that moment and I would not 
have argued.
         "Poor girl," Elena said, and cupped my breasts.  She brushed my 
hard nipples with her fingertips.  Her touch felt nice.  She kissed my 
hot forehead.
         I felt my panties being drawn down in back.  Inadequate as they 
were, they were proving too modest now for my hosts.  I wanted 
terribly to keep my legs pressed together, but the man, still nameless, 
pulled my knees apart.  I did not fight him.  I knew I was lost then.  My 
panties were removed completely and my stance made very wide.  Elena 
slipped out of her dress in a single, fluid movement.  Her body proved 
very appealing, even to a girl like myself with a stunning body of my 
own.  Her breasts were magnificently large, bouncing on her chest as 
she fetched a spreader bar from a corner of the room.  She knelt down 
and clamped my ankles into it.  She moved so quickly, I was so dazed, I 
had little chance to protest, offered none.
         Looking up from her handiwork, Elena smiled.  "You'll pee now, 
darling, or be flayed alive."  Behind me I realized the man was undoing 
his belt.  Elena took my wrists and held them tightly together.  She 
pulled me forward to more fully present my heinie to our suitor.  I 
glanced wildly around, wanting to flee, looking for help.  I spotted Kyle, 
her wet panties off, and she was grinding her ass into a man's loins, 
happily taking him from behind as a woman, kneeling in front, devoured 
her pussy.
         Suddenly I peed.  Right on the rug.  I felt like some wayward mare.  
Elena, still crouching in front of me, gasped, flinched, drew back.  She 
did not want to be spattered with my urine as it hit the carpet.  Yet she 
still held my wrists, bending my head even closer to the floor as she 
fell back from my piddling.
         Two women drifted up on either side of my suitor.  "Bad girl!" one 
said.  
         "She should be trained to go in her panties, like she's supposed 
to," the other remarked.  Apparently Kyle and I were not the first pupils 
to attend Elena's "school."  The women snuggled up to my suitor and 
gave his cock an admiring squeeze.  Looking over my shoulder, I gazed at 
the size of his organ in their small hands.  He brushed them away.  Cock 
throbbing, he raised his belt, now held in a loop.  He brought it down 
fiercely upon my fundament.
         "OOoaah!" I shouted as a new mark was added to my once-pretty 
posterior.  He gave me two more for good measure.  Juicy swats, right 
across my ass, delivered full force.  I jammed my cheeks together and 
howled at the rafters.  My peerless rounds were being turned into one 
giant red tomato.  Elena released my hands and I shot upright.  My palms 
flew to my bottom and I grabbed handfuls of it, still standing with my 
legs fixed wide by the spreader bar.
         "WAH!" I sobbed, totally losing what little remained of my 
composure.  How could I possibly hold my own against a man who could 
break off coitus as casually as most men change their underpants?  I 
knew then that I had a long night ahead.  
         Elena rose and seized my nipples, twisted them.  The pain that 
shot through them redirected my attention towards her.  
         "Stop crying, young lady!"  Elena said fiercely.  Frightfully I 
swallowed my tears.  "That's better," Elena said, and let go of my teats, 
leaving them sore.  I began hiccuping.  My suitor laughed.  Elena looked 
at me, shook her head disapprovingly.  I felt like the little girl I knew I 
still was, undisciplined, uncorrected, untutored.  
         Elena bent down and undid my ankles.  I shifted my weight on my 
legs to close them but Elena warned me not to.  She twisted the bar, 
shortened it a bit, and reattached it just above my knees.  I felt 
grotesquely wide open, and my suitor knew it.
         "This is not a place where girls keep their legs closed," he 
whispered in my ear.  He drew my lips apart, my teeth.  I saw a flash of 
red and felt him jam a ball gag into my mouth.  I hiccuped.  I sniffled.  
Securely he fastened the gag in place.  My eyes bulging, mouth popped 
wide by the big ball, I felt like some fish on a pier.  Oh, how did I ever 
get into such a mess?  I didn't even know these people!
         A collar was slipped around my neck and fastened.  Attached to it 
was a leash.  "Let's go meet the other guests," my suitor, now my 
master, said.  He handed the leash to Elena.  
         To my horror I was led spraddle-legged over to a couple that had 
just finished fucking.  My master invited the man to fuck my outthrust 
pussy.  He was young, and his penis immediately lengthened at the 
invitation.  He glanced at his wife.
         "Go ahead, dear," she said languidly.  She seemed older than he.  
The man rose, glanced once at my face, then put his hands firmly on my 
hips to steady me.  A moment later I cried out as he threaded himself 
up me.  I was an object, nothing more, for his sexual gratification.  He 
pumped me steadily, hungry but unhurried.  He'd had the edge taken off 
his lust by his first ejaculation in his wife.  Or was the woman merely 
his mistress, perhaps just for the evening?  I had no idea.  The man 
grunted happily.  I bucked, coughed, felt desire coming over me.
         "God, she's nice and tight!" the man said finally.
         "She must be fucked repeatedly," my master replied.  
         "Thoroughly opened," Elena said.  I shivered.  I did not want to be 
here.  I wanted to play truant, run away from school.
         Three more men fucked me there in the ballroom, each paying me 
no compliment, except as to the tightness of my cunt.  And they 
stiffened nicely, when I was offered to them.  I seemed to make a man 
rise up swiftly even when he thought he'd shot his last.  A tribute, I 
suppose, to my beauty, though it was unspoken.
         Finally, led by my leash, I waddled into an adjacent room.  There 
was a bed in the middle of it.  Elena turned down the covers and boosted 
me up onto it.  It was a big bed.  I was made to kneel in the middle of it.  
Elena pressed my face down onto the sheet.  My ass rose above my 
still-imprisoned knees like some baleful moon, streaked with red.  I 
wanted so much to be able to close my legs.  Elena drew my hands 
between my legs until they were next to my ankles.  My arms were 
stiff, straight, elevated slightly by having to cross over the spreader 
bar.  Elena wrapped my left wrist to my left ankle, using a nylon 
stocking.  Then she did the same with the right.  I felt like a turkey, all 
trussed up for thanksgiving.  And I feared my tail was about to be 
basted!
         A chill ran up my spine as I heard the slither of a whip being 
taken from its protective case.  It reminded me of the flute I'd played 
in high school.  I could make noise with both instruments, I realized.  
Obviously my master didn't leave his whips lying about any more than I 
would have left my flute out.  It was an expensive flute.  This must be a 
very fine whip.  Nothing but the best for poor Barbi!  
         "Why are you shivering?" Elena asked.  She stroked my back.  
         "This is the best whip made in South America," master intoned 
behind me.  "You should feel proud to have such perfectly crafted 
leather."  With a flick of his wrist he let the whip fly out, uncoiling.  I 
lurched forward as it bit deeply into my ass.  God!  The sting!  At once I 
began crying.  Only the tip had struck me, but it made me wiggle my 
bottom about like I'd been visited by a bee.  
         "A bit more lightly perhaps," Elena said.  She twirled a lock of my 
hair in her finger.  "The girl is only 15.  She might think us inhospitable 
hosts."
         My whipping lasted for hours.  In fact, it did prove to be less 
severe than it could have been.  That was of little consequence, 
however, for they made up for the lightness of the strokes by giving me 
so many of them.  Death by a thousand cuts.  
         After awhile master had Elena remove my ball gag.  He said he 
wanted to hear me scream.  The cuts were a little sterner then, for 
awhile, and I cried out prettily, I thought, though I could hardly bear it.  
I hoped to win a reprieve for my bottom if he liked my ululations.  He 
did, but too much perhaps, for he kept on whipping me.  He told me I had 
the ass for it.    
         Occasionally I had to pee.  Elena would bring a little silver bowl 
and place it between my legs.  I would go right there, upon the bed, into 
the bowl.  Master would stand by, holding his whip, waiting for me to 
finish.  Then he would begin my punishment anew, my love punishment, 
for never did they say I'd done anything wrong.  I was merely a young 
girl, a young animal, being trained.  I'd made no mistakes in my 
schoolwork that were unexpected.  The whipping had been as inevitable 
from the start as the fuckings had been, in the ballroom.
         Now and then Elena would frig master, to keep him hard.  I 
marvelled at his fortitude, even as I cursed him behind my gag.  I 
wanted up, wanted to be free of this awful whipping.
         At last they did undo my hands, but left the spreader bar in place.  
Elena said I must have a "breather."  She urged me to unfold my posture 
and straighten my back.  Agonizingly I raised up my back.  Woefully I 
tried to clasp my bottom.  My poor pumpkin was so sore!  My touch only 
hurt it more.  
         "No darling, leave your bottom alone.  You cannot help it," Elena 
admonished.  "Just do what you can, move about, feel your freedom, 
such as it is.  It won't last long."
         I let go of my bottom and stretched, lifting my hands to the 
ceiling.  A smile broke across my lips, welcome but unwanted.  I wanted 
to pity myself, not celebrate some odd dose of "freedom."  Yet I smiled 
all the same.  I leaned rightward, then leftward.  It felt good, 
stretching.  Then I collapsed onto the bed.  
         My legs, still fixed by the bar, remained immobile.  My ass stayed 
boldly aloft.  The rest of me, though, melted into the sheets.  I felt 
impossibly tired.  My bottom was a pulsing ball of heat.  I could not 
even begin to fathom how to cope, what to do.  I began to weep, quietly.
         Elena retrieved my hands from under my face and drew them out, 
bound my wrists together and tied them off at the head of the bed.  But 
she left slack in the line.  I was not so rigidly kept as before.  They 
trusted me more now.  
         Again the whip.  Lightly now, with a "shocker" now and then to 
keep me alert.  I could not really tell the intensity of the blows 
anymore, though, the "shockers" may have been the touch of two 
feathers, the others the touch of one.  My fanny was terribly sensitive 
now.  Breath alone would have made me squeal.  The time drifted on, 
dreamlike.  My entire concentration was focused on my fanny, with 
points of interest at my tits and clitty.  I simpered, whined, howled 
occasionally.  My lovers too kept their attention on my ass.  It was as if 
the whole world was concerned with my tushy, and nothing else.     
         Something nudged my anus.  A shiver ran up my spine.  I lifted my 
head, shook my much-tousled locks as best I could from my face and 
turned it about to see what was up.  Master's penis.  Was he intending to 
take me, at last?  Suddenly I realized I wanted him.  Even if it meant 
having to take him up my ass.  
         "Tell me," he murmured, his voice husky.
         I bit my lip.  I could not bring myself to say it.
         He jabbed my sphincter.  I felt a drop of his cum upon my opening.  
"Tell me!"
         "I-I want to be your slave," I breathed.  My eyes widened as I 
realized what I'd said.  He seemed shocked too.  Permission to fuck my 
ass was all he'd wanted.  Perhaps because he'd sought it I'd chosen to 
give him more, much more.
         Elena put a finger to my lips.  Was she offering to silence me, to 
keep me from something dark and mysterious that I knew nothing about, 
was anyway too young for?  Slavery.  The word sent a chill through me.  
I trembled all over.  I opened my mouth and sucked Elena's finger.  
Sucked it hard, like a cock, savored it.  She brushed my hair from my 
face with her free hand.
         "Sweet, young thing.  You do not know what you ask.  This has been 
mere play.  Slavery is...well..." she turned her eyes to my master, the 
man I'd pretended was my master but now really wanted to be.  A man 
whose name I didn't even know.  Was it his self-restraint which 
captivated me?  He'd yet to finish what I'd so rudely interrupted when 
I'd come naked into the ballroom, unable to pee.
         He stroked my bottom, sending sizzling arrows of pain across it.  
He toyed with my sphincter.  My puckered rose beckoned.  It was not in 
pain.  It sought attention.  "Your wish is my command," he said at last.  I 
felt his palms make contact with my bare seat.  I shrieked, but 
swallowed the last of it.  He cupped me, spread me, lifted me, spread 
me wider.  He introduced his penis into my rectum.  I lurched forward, 
retreating.
         His cockhead stayed within me, carried forward but not removed 
by my last-minute girlish reluctance.  "Bear down," he growled.  I bit 
my lip and pushed my bottom back.  He grabbed the front of my thighs 
and shoved me ass-first toward him.

Walt Disney Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
by holy joe

         Recently, my thoughts turned to young females.  (Spring is in the air, 
you know.)  I was wondering, Òhow can a young female meet Mr. Right?Ó  
So I decided to ask none other than Walt Disney.

hj:  Good morning, Mr. Disney.  How can a young female who doesnÕt have 
any money meet Mr. Right?
wd:  She should become a whore.
hj:  Become a whore?!
wd:  Yes, just watch my film, Pretty Woman.  In this film we have a young 
female, with no money, who wants to meet Mr. Right.  So she becomes a 
whore, and meets Mr. Right.  End of story.  All girls should do this.
hj:  I knew youÕd provide me with a quick answer.  Say, what new films do 
you have in the works for young girls?
wd:  Well, now that IÕve taught older girls how to meet Mr. Right, I feel I 
should tell younger girls how to lose their virginity.
hj:  And what recommendation do you have for them?
wd:  Move to an all-male military base.
hj:  Well, that would solve the problem pretty quick, I imagine, what with 
our Commander-in-Chief bedding 15-year-old girls and our troops fucking 
12-year-olds in Okinawa.
wd:  Yes indeed.  As stated in the February 12, 1996 issue of Newsweek 
(page 55), I am hoping to buy the film ÒRipe.Ó  This film is about Òthe 
deflowering of Violet and Rosie, 14-year-old orphan twin virgins stranded 
on an all-male military base.Ó
hj:  ThatÕs great!  IÕm sure IÕll enjoy it much better than Pocahontas.
wd:  Yes.  Personally, IÕm sick of telling 8-year-old girls how to live 
politically correct lives.
hj:  Say, Roller keeps writing about 15-year-olds.  IÕll pass along to him 
the idea of making his heroines 14 instead.  We want to be on the cutting 
edge here at NND, not behind Walt Disney!
wd:  I understand entirely.
hj:  Come to think of it, you bought the film ÒKidsÓ too, which was all 
about kids getting laid.  YouÕre kind of establishing a track record here, 
arenÕt you?
wd:  Yes!  We buy kiddie porn.  If you make it, weÕll buy it!
hj:  Heck man, IÕll bet I could slap something together about girls getting 
laid.  IÕll call it ÒRiper,Ó or something.
wd:  Give us a call when youÕre done.  We here at Disney are in the market 
for kiddie porn!

ATTENTION FEMALES
An Alert from Holy Cow (feminist author)

         Girls, there is no need to be victimized by men!  You can spend your 
entire life masturbating.  Just call 1-800-992-2966 and ask for ÒThe 
Sonic Toothbrush!Ó  It delivers 31,000 brush strokes per minute!

[Announcement provided in the interest of free and fair speech on NND.]

Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions:  send (18 or up) age statement 
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Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A.  Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of 
Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1996 and a trademark of 
Andrew Roller.  Chat:  alt.sex.stories.d    END OF 4 EMISSION