Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 177
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Puppy Love
Chapter One
ÒAnd your ass must be widened,Ó Ivan continued. ÒNothing major.
YouÕll just have something up it the whole time weÕre here, to help you
learn to take penises better. ÔTest borings,Ó I call them, ÒOr Ôtraining
dongs.Õ YouÕll feel stretched, but you wonÕt really be stretched or anything
when weÕre done. YouÕll just have a better sense of how to take a cock up
your ass, since youÕll have one embedded in you the whole time. YouÕll
have to learn how to sit, stand, walk around with it in you. It will help
when your master wants you that way. He says youÕre too resistent, it
takes too long for him to settle you down and insert himself.Ó
Rachel lay with wide, disbelieving eyes over her Russian lover, her
ass pertly pointed up at him, her childish cheeks quivering with her every
trembling movement. They were like twin mounds of vanilla jello, firm
but soft. The Russian slapped her bottom. ÒYouch!Ó Rachel cried. She
straightened her firehat, still trying to keep her composure, like the rest
of us were, despite the frightful prescriptions master had written for us.
ÒFirst, you will all service us, with your mouths,Ó Ivan ordered. ÒDo
good work, or we may deviate from your masterÕs plan, and I think itÕs
demanding enough as it is. So, for your own sake, suck me good or my
hands will tremble during your operations, as will those of my comrades
here. I will not handle the brands, or the anal insertions. DonÕt leave us
desperate or vindictive, girls!Ó He unzipped himself then, offering us a
view of an impressive Russian penis. His comrades did likewise. Jasmine,
the nearest, began immediately to suck IvanÕs sex organ. Her mouth and
hands were imploring, as if asking him to reconsider her piercing. He
stroked her long hair, admiring her handiwork, but said nothing as to
sparing her.
We worked like she-devils, all of us girls, sucking each of the men
as much as he asked. Intermittently weÕd stop and serve them more,
drinks, light more cigars for them. Hors d'oeuvres were made available to
fill their bellies and, to the extent we could eat at all, our own. When all
the men were at last satisfied the five of us females had slick faces and
sticky fingers. Ivan refused to let us wash but said the piercings must
proceed at once.
Tara was put up on a table and her legs spread. We girls held her
ankles wide apart. She shivered as she had her shift pinned up by Ivan.
Her sex lay bare for him. Softly he massaged her clitty a little, to ease
her pain by releasing some endorphins. Watching from above, she told him
how to touch her to increase her pleasure.
ÒNot right on it, but brush your finger around it,Ó she said of her
clit, her teeth chattering a little a she spoke. Rachel and I trembled as we
held her legs open.
ÒHere, bite on this,Ó Ivan said at last, offering Tara a rubber bit
from his doctorÕs bag, which now lay open on the table beside TaraÕs hip.
Tara took the bit between her teeth. I saw that she was visibly shaking.
RachelÕs lover stroked her bottom, holding a big rubber shaft and waiting
for a chance to insert it. Rachel hung on for dear life to TaraÕs ankle,
hoping that as long as she was needed for TaraÕs operation she could not
be impaled. Anna and Jasmine sat on a manÕs lap, hugging each other. They
watched with fearful eyes.
Ivan looked at Tara. His gaze was deep. He lifted a hand and rustled
the expensive earring dangling from her right ear. ÒDo you remember when
you were a little girl, getting your ears pierced?Ó Ivan asked her.
ÒYes, and it hurt!Ó Tara mumbled over her gag. Though we could not
hear her words distinctly, we could easily guess what sheÕd said.
ÒThis is the piercing you must have now that you are a woman. It
will complete you,Ó Ivan answered. I saw the men stare, fascinated, at
TaraÕs open sex. Quite a few of them were hard again, their members
confined once more inside their pants, despite our best efforts earlier to
completely empty them. ÒI want you to know that you have perhaps the
prettiest pussy IÕve ever pierced,Ó Ivan told her. I couldnÕt tell whether
she was reassured, or frightened by that. ÒHere goes.Ó
ÒYeeeekch!Ó Tara screamed over her bit. I lifted my hand and pressed
it hard between her lips, for I saw she would otherwise drop it. For
several long seconds Ivan worked, driving the pin through her inner sex,
her most intimate part, the clitoral hood itself, where she would soon be
adorned with erotic jewelry that would tease her clitty all day, even when
she went out with master.
Tara fainted and a man caught her, propped her up. Ivan finished his
work upon her. He wiped up the small amount of blood heÕd drawn with his
pin and waved smelling salts under TaraÕs nose.
ÒThatÕs all for today,Ó he told her. ÒGet us some more drinks.Ó The
cruel men made Tara herself serve them, though they had Rachel and I
accompany her, lest she should topple over on her heels from the fright of
her ordeal. Twice we had to pass smelling salts under her nose to keep
her alert. Tara served each man in turn, walking to the bar to prepare each
drink specially. Her shift was kept pinned up so the men could admire the
temporary light-steel ringlets that dangled down, chain-like, from her
pierced sex. A tiny bell hung at the end of the chain and it tinkled softly
as she walked.
ÒNow bend over your friend and insert this for us,Ó Ivan told Tara
when all the men had been given drinks. He handed her a small chastity
belt, made of slim strips of leather. It protected by offering small loops
where an inserted dildo could be fastened and held. No man would be able
to enter a girl done up this way, at least not without first removing the
belt. For Rachel, though, only her hiney hole was to be Ôprotected.Õ Tara
and I fitted Rachel into the little belt. It consisted of two parts. The
first was a strip that went around her waist, like a belt. The second,
accompanying strip went down through her bottom crack, then under her
and up over her pubic mound to attach again to the belt. It was essentially
a g-string that we fitted her into, though at her vulva and again at her
hiney hole there was a loop of leather through which a dildo might be
thrust and fastened. Getting her into the belt, we then unceremoniously
bent her over. Her hat fell onto the rug. I put my hands between her sweet
booted legs and vented them apart. Tara prised open her bottom cheeks
with her fingers, gripping the girl hard, as if to get back at her for holding
her ankles apart for Ivan.
ÒShove it in,Ó Tara told me, tossing her hair, a determined look on
her face.
ÒOwowwooo!Ó Rachel howled, as I pushed in the dildo. Tara and I had
lubed it with vaseline, a minor detail the men hadnÕt thought of.
ÒLearn! Learn to take it!Ó Tara admonished Rachel, anticipating the
girlÕs moans of complaint.
ÒOh, take it out, no, no, itÕs going too far up!Ó she bleated. I drove
the penis in deeper, not wishing to delay the menÕs departure any longer
than necessary.
ÒQuiet, Rachel! WeÕre almost done for today. We just need to get
this up you!Ó I said, as the girl wriggled her hips and tried to push my
dildo back out with clenchings of her sweet cheeks. I was a little peeved
at her. Tara had been pierced, all Rachel needed to do was relax and let me
force this up her. The men laughed. They enjoyed seeing the little firegirl
get her butt plugged. At last, with much huffing and puffing, waiting for
her to relax, but trying to hurry her also, I managed to get the long dildo
all the way up her ass. She shivered when she realized it was done. I
fastened the dildo into the loop provided. Tara released the cheeks of
RachelÕs bottom. They closed springily, but there was an odd blunt object
holding them open right where her shit was meant to pop out. Rachel
stood, unsteadily, Tara and I on either side of her to make sure she didnÕt
fall. When she was unbent and upright again, she passed her finger through
her hair, which had fallen over her eyes.
ÒHi,Ó she giggled, staring at the men, who sheÕd just mooned for
many minutes while I stuffed her with the dildo.
ÒDo not take that off her except when she absolutely has to shit,Ó
Ivan told Tara. ÒAnd for short baths. The rest of the time she is to wear
it inside her, feeling the fullness of it, accustoming herself to the length
and width of a male penis. Her master will expect to take her easily there
when he returns.Ó
ÒYes, sir,Ó Tara replied. She saluted him dumbly, unsure how else to
respond. He smiled, she smiled winsomely back at him. Her sex chain
dangled alluringly.
Led by Ivan, the men got up and left. Anxiously Tara waved goodbye
to them from the doorway. She did not wish to see them displeased. They
might return, at any moment. We could not keep that many men out of the
house, no matter how we might lock the door. Nonetheless, when theyÕd
pulled from the drive, Tara, who stood coyly just inside the door hoping
not to be seen from the street, shed her smile quick as sheÕd found it and
slammed the door.
ÒOhhh, what have they done to me?!Ó she moaned. We had gradually
gathered round her and now we rushed her back to the table upon which
sheÕd so recently been pierced and sat her upon it. We pulled open her
legs, her sex, all of us gazing at it with worried, baleful eyes.
ÒOh, God!Ó Jasmine blurted. She was to have a similar procedure
done in the morning, through her inner labial lip. She cupped herself with
her palm, squeezing herself protectively, even as she stared at poor Tara.
ÒThat does it for me!Ó Rachel announced, after long minutes of
staring. She grabbed the buckle at the back of her chastity belt. She
fumbled with it. The buckle was in the small of her back and she could not
see it. Tara, who was wiping her eyes, looked up from herself.
ÒNo!Ó Tara said. She lifted a tear-wettened finger and motioned for
us to stop Rachel.
ÒBut--Ó I said, for I was drifting close to Rachel to help her out of
the awful gear.
ÒI will not see master disobeyed while I am still in charge,Ó Tara
said. ÒShe will wear it just as the men instructed, and IÕll belt anyone
who gets her out of it.Ó Tara looked straight at the little blonde. ÒIÕll
lock you into it if I catch you being disobedient,Ó she said. ÒSomeday
youÕll be pregnant, and do you think youÕll be able to pop the growing baby
in and out of you whenever you wish? This is practise for you, Rachel.
Learn to bear it and feel it inside you.Ó
Rachel turned and stomped off in her firehat and yellow boots. I saw
someone had stepped on her squirtgun and it lay smashed upon the floor.
She noticed, picked it up, began bawling.
ÒShhh,Ó I said, coming close. ÒMaster will buy you another.Ó
ÒHe canÕt buy me a new BUTThole!Ó she groused weepily. She tried
twirling the broken gun on her finger but the broken plastic scratched her,
almost made her bleed.
ÒItÕs for playing being pregnant in,Ó I consoled her, patting her on
the hiney. Her cheeks looked especially cute bulging nakedly out on either
side of the tight strap that split them, and the fake cock that wedged
deeply up her.
ÒI wish I could give birth right now, to this thing!Ó Rachel said. She
yanked futilely at the cock in her ass.
DEATH OF THE FEMINISTS
I was speculating on feminism today. And it occurred to me that,
whether I like feminism or hate it, feminism is doomed.
First, a relationship between a male and a female is not actually
required. All that is required is sex. However, letÕs go a step beyond sex.
In a relationship, then, there has to be a certain magic. The feminists,
however, demand that one must engage in Òthe hard work of a Ôgrown-upÕ
relationship.Ó (All quotes are from PBSÕs Ann Taylor Fleming.)
I wonÕt even bother to address myself to the word, Ôgrown-up.Õ
ThatÕs just the (supposedly positive) label that a former flower child, now
pushing 50, attaches to a relationship that she deems to be a ÔfeministÕ
one.
Let us simply take the word Ôhard work.Õ A theory that requires
everyone on earth to engage in hard work, for the rest of time, is doomed.
Sex does not operate on the principle of hard work. Sex operates on the
principle of fun. Homework operates on the principle of hard work. This
is why people are attracted to sex, and repelled by homework. Homework
is a chore. It is put off. It is done at the last minute, or not at all. When
done, it is often done poorly.
Many older feminists, advocating the Òhard work of Ôgrown-upÕ
relationships,Ó have a problem. They never had any kids. IÕm not making
this up. Just read Anne RoipheÕs new book, ÒFruitful.Ó So we see that
feminism is, for these women, now nothing but a death-rattle, something
for them to take with them to their graves.
Of course, thereÕs always the chance of corrupting the young. But
again feminism must fail here as well. The feminists prohibit little girls
from being little girls. They are not even allowed to play dress up. Little
girls like playing dress up. They like competing with each other in playing
dress up. Yet the feminists would deny all this. They insist that little
girls be little boys. But for a girl to simply be a clone of her brother is
unsatisfying. Of course the boys must be, as much as possible, changed
into little girls.
The net result, of course, is that the girls are all tomboys, but not
boys, and the boys are all sissys, but not girls. But what happens when
one boy emerges as ALL boy? Does he not immediately rise to the top?
Does he not immediately command the attention of the girls? THERE is a
REAL boy, the girls say to themselves. And what happens, in a tomboy
world, when suddenly a REAL girl emerges? Feminism dies. Just like that.
Just that quickly. Because, in the end, it is a REAL boy that is desired, not
a sissy, and a real girl, not a tomboy.
Do you doubt me? Then enroll your son in ballet class. Boast to all
your neighbors ÒMy sonÕs a ballerina!Ó I think you get the idea.
Lately the feminists are complaining about the Little Miss Pageant.
So, okay, letÕs ban the Little Miss Pageant. Will this make the feminists
happy? Why, no! They also hate the Miss America Pageant. They protest
girls who are child models, but they also protest women who are models!
ALL forms of female beauty are despised, girl or woman, with clothes on
or with clothes off, runway model or centerfold.
Let us enter the Feminist Nirvana. First, there is no Ôgirl beauty.Õ
Girls are junior feminists, nothing more. They exist to honor the women
feminists. They are their disciples. There is no generational change in
this world, no Ôteenage rebellion.Õ All of the precepts that have already
been formulated by the women feminists must be swallowed whole by the
girls. This, obviously, is a doomed approach to human existence. Girls are
not just going to be little slaves to their mothersÕ ideas.
Next in the Feminist Nirvana there is no Ôwoman beauty.Õ Women are
to be firefighters, policemen, etc. (In other words, they are to be men.)
Men are supposed to admire women for their strength and power while
women are supposed to admire men for their sensitivity and compassion.
Why change? It is WOMEN who are already noted for such things as
sensitivity and compassion, and men for strength and power. But you donÕt
need me to tell you how stupid this approach is. Tell your neighbors
youÕve just bought a Òguard cat.Ó Not a guard dog, mind you! A guard-cat.
And if you see a blind man, take away his seeing-eye dog. Give him a
seeing-eye cat instead. I could go on, about how all the policemen must
henceforth be firemen, and the firemen policemen, but the point has been
made.
Once again we must ask, in a world of watered-down men, as in the
case of boys who are sissys, what happens when a REAL man emerges?
Why, the women will all say to each other, ÒThere goes a REAL man!Ó He
will be their favorite, and the other men will all quickly copy him. And so
too when a real ÔbabeÕ emerges. The menÕs attention will immediately be
drawn to her.
Next the feminists insist that a woman be Òassertive and
demanding.Ó But have you ever heard of the phrase, ÒYou can attract more
flies with honey than with vinegar?Ó You may doubt me. You may say,
ÒNo, no, Joe! I must be assertive and demanding.Ó Fine. Does your car
have a horn? Tomorrow, on your way to work, why just sit in traffic? Be
assertive and demanding! Honk your horn at everyone and give them the
finger and tell them where to shove it. DonÕt sit in traffic being all meek
and polite. Say ÒGet out of my way, you fucker!Ó And when you see a cop,
be assertive and demanding with him too. Pull over and say, ÒYou fucker!
Why are you sitting here looking at us commuters driving to work? Get
your fucking ass in gear! Get out there and catch some REAL criminals!Ó
So it is that we see that feminism is doomed. To recapitulate:
1. The feminists who engaged in Òmature, Ôgrown-upÕ relationshipsÓ
were so Ôgrown-upÕ that they never had any children.
2. The feminist ideal for children would create, at best, a temporary
world of tomboy-girls and sissy-boys.
3. The Feminist Nirvana allows no choice for girls (only
preformulated feminism) and prohibits even women to be sought-after and
beautiful.
4. Feminism requires women to be Òassertive and demanding,Ó yet
this approach is the least effective way to influence others.
So it is that, whether I like feminism or not, I must conclude, as a
simple matter of logic, that feminism is doomed to fail. Does this mean
that women canÕt be astronauts, or own property, or get equal pay for
equal work? Of course not! Simple equality is productive. It is a
BENEFIT, not a detriment, for everyone to be able to participate equally in
the society. But the sorts of extremist feminism detailed above are
counter-productive. Happily, the counter-productive feminism detailed
above, while a problem, carries with it its own solution. It is like the
AIDS virus. Deadly, but most deadly of all to the host that carries it, and
dying with the host when dies.
----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age
statement to: roller666@aol.com
-To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love
Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 Diapergirls! (CuntCastle2d)
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller6666 CuntCastle3b here!
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/nnd666 NudieNursery5 here!
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/nnd66 NEW! LaborsofLove8
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-Fuck Decency: http://members.aol.com/nnd6/fuckdecency.html
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 177 EMISSION