ÒNow, remain so,Ó her master said easily. He stepped back. ÒHave
you ever gone to the dentist?Ó he asked Jackie. She nodded, wide eyed,
unknowing what else to do.
ÒGood. Think of me as your dentist,Ó he said. And then, quite
abruptly, after all that long period of care and concern and attention heÕd
given her, he slashed the riding crop very hard across her bottom.
SINS OF THE FLESH
Now available for downloading from ftp site: members.aol.com/nnd66
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 179
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Puppy Love
Chapter One
ÒYou are departing soon, are you not?Ó Ms. Tuppence asked Ivan.
ÒLeave a little early. Russia is far away. If you had fucked these girls,
their master would be angry with you. But if I steal them, he will be
angry with me, and I am much closer than you. He will come after me
first, to get them back, if nothing else. Worry about yourselves after IÕm
gone.Ó She looked meaningfully at Ivan. ÒAnd I wonÕt ever be gone, I can
assure you. Their master has been a pest to me in the drug trade, but now
I am going to steal his girls and overturn his empire. He is the old way of
doing things, discreet, quiet. I am the new way. I take what I want, and I
need these girls, all of them. I will fuck them and make them give birth
for my husband. And I will sell them when I have their babies. Or perhaps
before, who knows? They irritate me as much as they please me, they are
all so beautiful. Get them, bring them. I expect complete obedience.Ó She
rose, looked at Ivan. She saw that he was resisting her. ÒBut first, show
that you are men yourselves. Fuck them. When you are done fucking them,
bring them to me. Do not damage them, mind. But give them all a good
fucking to loosen them up and make them not be so tight. Or at least try.
You have big Russian cocks, do you not? No more of this playing you told
me about yesterday. Get out your cocks and screw them. Right up the
pussy, and in the ass too. Tomorrow I will take them off the pill to
prepare them for my husband. Today, they are yours. But be quick. I find
that dalliance breeds disaster. Come in them, then come to me, with them
in tow.Ó Ceasing her soliloquy, the woman strode to the door and let
herself out. I thought I heard the twin dogs outside whine as they saw her
pass, protected, for she was parked near enough to the door to avoid the
dogs. Yet they seemed to crouch at her passing, fearfully, lest she have
them fucked too.
The men rose. They had determined looks on their face. They did not
wait for a command for Ivan. They came to us, grabbed us. Rachel was out
of her chastity belt faster than she could say Ôfire.Õ But just as quickly
she was forced to entertain an even bigger dong in her ass. And the rest of
us. Screaming, we succumbed. When we were finally bundled into the
RussianÕs van we were a well-spermed lot of wenches, weeping, stricken
with panic, hurting in our insides where man after man had had his way.
Beyond the smells of chickens and pigs, beyond the bales of hay and
the fields of grain, lay the farmhouse. It was quaint, old-fashioned
looking, with a weathervane on top, a rooster with a sharp beak and each
of the wind directions marked out with big capital letters. An
Argentinean flag fluttered out front, patriotic, in back a scarecrow
loomed amidst fast-growing corn. Clouds scudded overhead. The sun
streamed down its fertile rays amidst a refreshing breeze.
Inside the house was elegant. We were douched, bathed in a big tub,
like cattle, and tucked into a pair of beds in the guest bedroom. We slept
deeply, despite our fears, for the men had exercised us much that day. In
the morning we were roused, our nightÕs chamber pot was emptied. Taken
into the hall, we were sniffed enquiringly in our nudity by a big fluffy dog.
I tried to push him away but his nose prodded vigorously at my pussy. I
screeched as his big, wet floppy tongue emerged to lap at my sex.
Ms. Tuppence laughed. She had overseen us since our arrival. She and
her farm boys, who had bathed us the night before, themselves nude, their
cocks stiff beyond belief. The boys were made to handle us in gentlemanly
fashion, a relief after the too vigorous fucking the big, brutal-minded
Russians had given us. When weÕd stepped from the tub sheÕd let them dry
us and then permitted them to masturbate in front of us. WeÕd watched,
amazed, horrified. They were all about 13, randy as hell. This morning
they were all amazingly hard again, still as nude. When the dog had
sniffed us out he made for the boys, but Ms. Tuppence stopped him.
ÒDown, Samson,Ó she ordered. ÒYou are a boy dog. Do not become a
fag on me.Ó I suspected she must have to give Samson the same speech
every day, for he was quite feisty. ÒIt is nice that you girls were able to
arrive during my little summer camp that I hold each year,Ó Ms. Tuppence
smiled at us, wickedly, not really seeing us as people, rather as if she
were addressing cats, or trembling kittens. Perhaps the boys were dogs
and we ourselves kittens, with Samson being more human, in her mind at
least, than we ourselves were. ÒYes, I do not think I could have managed
you without the boys. My armed guards would be such an imposition, here
in the house. It is much nicer to control you with randy lads like these,
who are so cute in their obedience, so crazy and cute. Ah, IÕve a mind to
see you fucked by them. I should not wish my husband to know of it,
though. He would be jealous. Kneel down, cunts, each of you. That is all
you are to me. We have five of you, and seven boys. Kneel down and
present your asses. IÕll have you fucked first thing this morning, before I
take you off the pill. Have at them, boys. There is no need to masturbate
this morning!Ó
Glancing sideways at each other, we delicately dropped to our knees
as the boys, dancing like Indians, crowed and hooted and hollared. Tara
brushed back her hair, tried to take what was coming with as much grace
as she could maintain.
ÒGet your face right down on the floor,Ó Ms. Tuppence ordered Tara.
She put her booted foot right upon TaraÕs neck. It was an ankle-high boot,
most ladylike, but Ms. Tuppence used it viciously, pressing down on TaraÕs
neck until the young woman was fully upon the floor, her cheek hard-
pressed to the carpet, her ass lifted high by her sudden descent. Her knees
bumped against the carpet as her squat turned into a full-fledged
presentation of her bottom.
ÒYahoo!Ó three boys cried, fighting amongst themselves to be the
first to get at her. One, pressing harder than the rest, managed to push
himself forward and shove them away. He knelt quickly and introduced his
stemming cock right into TaraÕs sweetly offered cunt. ÒMmmm,Ó he
announced, licking his lips as he felt himself, small as he was, slip
quickly inside. He had a nice cock, big for a 13-year-old, but it was less
in size than the manly cocks sheÕd been trained to accept. He got inside
her with little difficulty and pumped her with abandon. She reached down
a hand to herself and massaged her own sex in anticipation of his quick
release. He came, crowed like a rooster, then stood. Quietly Tara kept her
own counsel, rubbing herself for a still unattained orgasm. The next boy
mounted her, even as the rest of us became victims ourselves. Soon they
had all shot, leaving us without orgasms, all except Rachel, who seemed
almost as youthfully excited as the boys themselves. They sensed a
commonality with her, liked her for it, but were even more drawn to those
of us who seemed older, more refined, especially Tara. Perhaps her raven
hair, her seductive eyes, reminded them of their mothers. Certainly the
mothers who had nursed them were little older than Tara when theyÕd
given birth. Samson danced around, hoping for a shot himself, quite frisky,
but Ms. Tuppence restrained him, holding him by his collar while she
watched us fucked. When weÕd stood up again she let him loose. He ran to
Tara, raised himself, and rubbed himself briskly against her thigh. Tara
shrieked, but Ms. Tuppence let him massage himself until he came. He shot
white sperm all the way up to her hips. The boys laughed, we stood in
shocked silence, except Rachel, who couldnÕt help giggling along with the
boys. Then were were marched off to the big bath tub, where the boys
were allowed much greater liberties in bathing us than theyÕd been given
the night before.
ÒHurry, the cows need milking,Ó Ms. Tuppence interrupted when the
boys had enjoyed our bodies quite freely and fully, making us shout,
tormenting us by poking us wherever they could, though all quite
childishly, they were as much in awe of us as anything, even as they
strove to slather their hands and mouths all over us. She did not let them
pull our hair, or pinch us, yet poking in our anal holes with questing
fingers, and between our furrowed lips, was not discouraged, so long as it
was done inquiringly, that we might be preserved intact for the real male
in our world, her as yet unseen husband.
Having milked the boys, we were dried and given sandals and two
pails each, made of metal, for receiving the essence of the cows. We
walked nakedly from the farmhouse. She did not permit us any clothes.
The grass lay green under our feet. It was wet with the morningÕs dew. In
the east the sun was just rising over the treetops. We were late to our
milking chores, Ms. Tuppence bade us to hurry. She ushered us briskly
along, elegantly dressed in a full-bodice gown and gloves, with a parasol
to protect her from the soon-to-be sweltering sun. In her hand she
clasped a wickedly thin riding crop. She whisked it behind us,
breathtakingly close to our fannies. We walked in disorderly fashion, in
neither a column or line, five abreast, one sometimes pushing ahead,
another falling behind. In the distance workmen arrived, clambering off a
truck that drove up amidst a cloud of dust. They were heavy-set men,
ignorant Indians or old-time field hands, men who had traded whatever
life they had for a lifetime of backbreaking labor amidst the eternal crops.
They would work, I guessed, glancing at them, until they were old and
grey, stooped over from all their endless efforts, forever harvesting, only
to be wakened anew by a fresh crop of fast-growing seed in the spring,
until at last the ever-generative seeds won out and the men, useless,
wound up as old beggars on the city streets of Buenos Aires. I pitied
them, even as they looked at our fine young bodies, our tempting white
flesh glowing in the rising sun, fresh from our bath, worried at the wet
dew which stuck ickily to our feet. With some of the men were women,
clambering down from the truck. It was a dump truck, as if the humans
who rode in it were nothing more than refuse. Ashes to ashes, and in the
meantime human garbage. I did not pity the women. They glared at us,
bundled-up like the men in rags against the hot rays of the sun. Jealousy
and envy coursed through them, I could see, even from this distance. Then
some of them laughed, ridiculing our nakedness. I flushed deeply. I was
glad they were far away and could not see my embarrassment. Yet,
somehow, IÕm sure they knew how we felt, seeing them now as the
whooped and hollared, getting the men to laugh with them. We trundled
with our buckets, wondering...did they know something we didnÕt? We
were captives, they at least might steal away during the day, unnoticed,
never to return. But, glancing here and there, I saw armed guards, coolly
watching, sunglasses on, guarding the illegal poppy crop that the workers
had come to tend and harvest. And intermingled with the poppies I saw
other drug crops, marijuana, and others still, all laid out neatly, with
some maize and potatoes interspersed, perhaps for food, perhaps to give
the crops an accidental appearance, as if the poppies had sprung up by the
grace of God only, not by any plan. Perhaps the government was cracking
down and they were trying to sow a more careful seed, intermingling,
creating the appearance of compliance, even as Mother Earth gave up yet
more of her natural, euphoria-producing bounty. Some say civilization
began with the growing of crops for beer, well, it continued here, and
there were many in the world, I was sure, who would claim that the
euphoria of the drug crops mattered more to them than the fullness in the
belly of the humble potatoes and corn.
Our titties wiggled freely as we walked. We were all blessed,
jiggling in our nudity we entered into the barn. Ms. Tuppence showed us
the cows. They looked at us with wide, dumb eyes. Their moos greeted
our ears. I smelled fresh hay, as if someone had been here just before us,
to prepare the barn.
ÒTurn one of your buckets upside down and sit right down on it,Ó
Miss Tuppence ordered. With our hair loose, pushing it back from our faces
to get it out of the way, we sat down on our buckets. It was
uncomfortable, I found, sitting with my bare ass right on the hard, cold
bucket. Mine wiggled a bit beneath me until I adjusted it. I moved it off a
bump on the ground so that it would sit properly. I sat frankly with my
legs wide. Ms. Tuppence gave each of us clear disposable gloves so we
would not have to touch the cowÕs udders directly. The gloves were thin,
though. We would feel every movement of the cowÕs milk-giving teats. I
felt my own breasts jiggle as I reached forward and took hold of my
assigned udder. The big beastly cow shifted as it felt my hands take hold,
as if urging me to empty it. Her penis shaped teats hung down with tender
fullness. The cow swished her tail, brushing away something, a fly
perhaps, or maybe brushing back Ms. Tuppence herself, lest she swipe at
its hind end with her crop.
ÒMy cow has a bow on it!Ó I heard Rachel announce happily.
ÒGet milking, dear,Ó Ms. Tuppence answered.
ÒWell, mine has a bell,Ó I replied, answering her as I began squeezing
the teats. As if to make me happy, my cow moved her neck, causing her
bell to ring.
We worked. I felt a strange fulfillment, doing this labor amidst the
fresh-smelling hay, naked as the cows themselves, my own nipples stiff
as I worked the fulsome teats. They felt sensuous as I tugged on them,
over and over, working on them as I might a host of wet male penises,
each giving forth its white juice in abundance. Never before had I felt
such a special bond with my own breasts, heavy and perfect, sucked but
never milk-giving. I felt a longing to be a mother well up within me. I did
not care who the father was, I just wanted to serve, to nourish, to cherish.
Lightly I kissed the side of my cow, my fellow sister, giving her milk so
freely and happily and effortlessly to me. I sensed the other girls around
me felt a similar bond with their beasts. At last, my pail underneath the
udder full, I lifted my seat up off my upturned bucket and stripped off my
gloves.
ÒOooh, that made my butt sore,Ó I remarked. I cast my gloves onto
the ground and rubbed my fanny with my hands.
ÒDid I say you could rise?Ó Ms. Tuppence asked. I sat down at once.
ÒIÕm-IÕm sorry,Ó I replied.
MOMENT OF TRUTH
Sitting here upon the Pot,
Counting minutes, feeling the clot,
Hoping someday my shit will come,
Passing time, ÒDum, Dum, Dum!Ó
There goes that appointment time
Still sitting here, passing mine
Gas out of my butthole
Yet still that log sits there whole
Whoops! There goes a little piece
But more comes down, I have no peace!
Supper soon, but here I sit,
Still trying to take a shit!
Getting up (Yes itÕs that bad)
Walking thru my house half mad
With a big turd in my butt
Good God! IÕll be a Turd-Faggot!
What need have I of a GayÕs dick?
IÕve got my own, plus my prick
Made of BM, it sticks me good
Deeper than any man could!
Alas, I sit down again
Pepto-Bismol a dead end
Then with horror I realize
The pink stuff makes you hard inside!
Egad! No! ItÕs Ten P.M.
Still waiting for my BM
Will that damn Pepto wear off?
I read the label, see nothing, nought!
ÒKeep Away From Children,Ó
ÒKeep out of eyes,Ó
But what about my shit hole guys?
Alas, I win the stupid prize!
2 A.M. IÕll shoot someone
If only I could get my thumb...
Yes! Fuck myself! That will do!
Suddenly I hear a PLOOP!
Now we know, the truth is out
What to do when youÕre in doubt
Simply reach back, into thine hole
And dig it out with fingers bold!
(Believe it or not, when that turd came out it was so long it sort of
clogged my toilet as it was going down, but then it finally went down.)
AND IN THE END...
ATTENTION COPS
ÒNow, if there be one rule of law more sacred than another, it is this,
that no limitation shall be construed to be an executory or shifting use,
which can by possibility take effect by way of remainder.Ó
- Lord St. Leonards
(Just a reminder! - h.j.)
----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
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-END OF 179 EMISSION
- Leonards: Cole v. Sewer 4 Dr. and War. 1, 27, 4 Ir.Eq.Rep. 66, 68-69.