Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 215
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Five
ÒWho-who will whip me?Ó Jill asked. Her voice was tremulous. Her
body shivered as she contemplated the bench, Emily caressing her seat all
the while, to comfort her a little, and explore the contours that she soon
would thrash.
ÒI will at first,Ó Emily replied. ÒTo warm you up a bit and make you
more compliant and receptive. Then, when it is time for the really hard
strokes, Sam will take over, and whip you hard as he likes, or not. It is
each husbandÕs choice. My job is simply to get you ready.Ó She pushed
lightly on JillÕs back, urging her down. Awkwardly Jill lifted her leg and
straddled the humped bench. I saw her eyes observing the freshly oiled
straps. Nervous as a new filly at the rodeo, she settled onto the worn
fabric that covered the top of the bench, feeling her pubis come into
contact with the hard hump, letting the air caress her in her bottomcrack
as her mature fanny spread open behind her. She held her hands under her
chest but Emily drew them out now, and pulled them gently down to the
legs of the bench, where she quickly buckled them into place, before Jill
could change her mind. Then she moved to the girlÕs legs and secured each
of her ankles to a leg of the bench, one on each side, leaving poor Jill
spread like a Thanksgiving turkey about to be stuffed. Emily patted her
bottom. ÒImagine the men at work seeing you like this, Jill!Ó she teased
the woman. ÒYouÕll cry and sweat and burp and probably even fart, too, as
I apply the whip to you. Think of how silly youÕll look in your agony,
weeping and begging, and how stupid it was for you to walk down the aisle
of the church, all dignified, as if the work of the wedding night would
never arrive! Your guests will see you beaten, and then fucked, and what a
mess youÕll be by morning! All for your husbandÕs pleasure, of course,
seeing you broken in for your lifetime of wifely duties. How Sam must
wish heÕd done this to you right off the bat, when you were first married.
Yes, it takes someone like me, Emily, to train husbands on how to properly
handle and deal with their wives.Ó She ran her finger along JillÕs exposed
cunt and on to the dimple of her asshole. ÒPlease donÕt pee while youÕre
over the bench,Ó Emily said. ÒIÕll make you clean up after yourself if you
do. Do you have to poop?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Jill said, staring straight ahead.
ÒGood,Ó Emily replied. She beckoned one of the maids. The girl
hurriedly ran up to her, knowing she must not show the slightest hesitancy
in obeying her mistress. Either that, or she was just playing, to show her
complete subservience, in case some other woman might wish to hire her
for the evening, and have her perform duties at her behest. I imagined the
girls were well paid, and even contemplated, momentarily, seeking some
similar employment. How fun it must be to run about all night in just
bikini panties, teasing men, and not letting them touch! I remembered my
schoolgirl days, walking home from school, learning to wiggle while I
walked, like a woman does. Cars would slow, IÕd see a man staring, IÕd
give him a pouty sulk and glare, and pretend to memorize his license plate
as he drove away. Some men even had little hearts on their license plates,
to protect the children! No doubt their wives ordered the plates, paying
the money into the state fund, perhaps with their husbandÕs full approval.
And then heÕd be driving home, certain of his beliefs, swearing as he
listened to news stories about molesters on the radio. And, just as
suddenly as Saul on the road to Damascus, heaven would open, and heÕd see
my jiggling little bottom, and the world would never be quite the same for
him, ever again. ÒDonÕt touch, donÕt touch, donÕt touch, what? THAT! The
girl in the squeezingly tight jeans, or the too-short shorts, skipping home
from school, all innocent and virginal, but with a copy of Seventeen
stuffed in her binder. Hello Kitty emblazoned on the outside of her binder,
and Seventeen inside, or Cosmopolitan even, telling her how to date boys
or have better sex with men. Yes, donÕt touch my wiggly bottom, sir,
though your son might have his way with me, or that no-good boy who
lives down the street, and slashed your tires last summer and egged your
car. He is good enough to fuck me, but youÕre not. No, you CANÕT have that,
sir. Only boys with half-grown peckers can have me, though I must dream
at night in my bed of really big pricks, mustnÕt I? Who would want a half-
pint size when she could have the real thing?
I glanced to my right. Sam had shut his legs, imprisoning me as I
stood naked between them, his hairy thighs gripped against my thin,
childish legs. I was only 13. Sam put his hand out and squeezed my bare
cheeks. ÒTheyÕre so soft,Ó he mused, even as he watched his wifeÕs
bottom elevated by the hump, and the oiled straps holding her so she could
not be spared from having it spanked.
ÒIÕm going to put a little alcohol on your bottom,Ó Emily said to Jill.
ÒIn case it bleeds from being struck. Does it sting a little? ThatÕs why I
like applying it, not just for sanitary reasons, to keep you from being
infected if your bottom is cut by the whip, but also because it makes each
stroke that much more impressive. DonÕt worry, my dear, youÕll be well
gagged, to keep you from grinding your teeth. I do actually believe in
treating a girl well who is over the bench.Ó She stood over Emily, applying
handfuls of alcohol with swirls of her fingertips to JillÕs fanny. As she
worked, she called to one of the maids. She told her to comb out JillÕs
hair and touch up her face with makeup. It was an odd sight, seeing Emily
prepare JillÕs bottom for punishment while a maid knelt before her and did
her face, making her as lovely as she ever could be, here on her wedding
night, with her husband looking on.
When JillÕs face was all painted and her bottom anointed, the maid
gagged her mouth with a rubber bit. ÒBite down. Let it get seated
properly,Ó Emily told Jill. The maid pushed it back as far as it could go in
JillÕs mouth. The ends of the bit stuck out on either side of her lips,
making her look almost grotesque, like a horse too harshly harnessed by
its master. There were cords trailing from the ends of the bit, and these
were bound behind Jill, in the softness of her blonde hair. She turned
toward me, lying over the bench, and gazed at me with eyes filled with
fear. I could do nothing. I simply stared back, a hand at my throat, praying
to God that I would somehow not have to go next. Sam ran a finger down
my spine, perhaps to reassure me that I was loved, and would not really be
tortured, but it only made me shiver visibly, like a child seeing a ghost on
Halloween.
Emily whispered to the maid who had just finished doing JillÕs
makeup and forcing her into the bit. The maid got up from in front of Jill
and scurried off, only to return moments later with a wide belt. No pants
were being worn by anyone in the room, so we knew immediately its
nefarious purpose. Jill did too. When she saw it, she started, and yanked
upon her bonds with her arms and legs. It was unavailing. A moment later
she could only lie quietly over the humped bench and watch as Emily
stalked about her, circling her white body, her ass raised and her legs
wide apart. Jill seemed to mouth something, but I could not make it out,
nor could anybody else, the bit so constrained her.
ÒAh, I love seeing the little shivers of a girl about to be whipped,Ó
Emily taunted. ÒSuch a lovely white body, with your fanny whiter still,
screened from the sun by your panties. Where are they now? Did you lose
them? Or did you forget to put them on for your wedding? How naughty a
bride can be, hmmm? YouÕll wish youÕd remembered your panties in a
minute, I swear.Ó Emily let the lash drop its tip onto JillÕs bottom. She
caressed the girlÕs seat with it, drawing it finally through the open crack
between JillÕs springy cheeks. ÒAre you ready, my dear?Ó Emily asked at
last. ÒNod if you are.Ó
Jill didnÕt move her head. Her neck was rigid. Her eyes stared, then
fluttered a little, then stared again. She looked some animal about to be
slaughtered, and Emily seemed to know this and savor it. Did Jill savor it
too? All eyes were upon her. No one spoke, everyone watched.
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ÒLet it begin,Ó Sam uttered suddenly, startling me.
Emily brought the strap smartly down upon JillÕs seat. The blonde
bucked as the leather struck, then howled through her gag.
ÒIt is only the first of many, my dear,Ó Emily told Jill. She stood
watching the blonde as she jerked again in her bonds, and squeezed her
asscheeks, trying to squeeze away the pain. At last JillÕs cry died away.
ÒAgain?Ó Emily asked Sam. She would let him call out the strokes,
to make his wife even more aware of her need to obey him.
ÒAgain, and harder this time. Make her squirm like a fish,Ó Sam
croaked. His cock was really in control of his mind now, I guessed.
ÒWhy, Sam. You are so horrible, but itÕs your wife!Ó Emily said. She
saluted him and then JillÕs bottom, bringing the lash right down, hard
across the cheeks, and bringing a shriek from Jill. Her bottom wobbled
upon the hump, like jello being brought out for eating. A red stripe
formed.
A maid approached me, something in her hands. I received it, cupping
my palms, taking my hands from my nervous fanny to allow her to give it
to me. ÒWhat is this?Ó I asked. Three metal rings, with the ability to be
snapped open and shut. A wire connected them, and ran on to a little box,
which the maid kept. ÒItÕs for SamÕs penis,Ó she answered. Curious, I
turned about, Sam actually letting me, for he was as curious as I. At the
maidÕs behest I bent and attached each of the rings to SamÕs cock. He was
eager for anything that might pleasure him, anything Emily would permit.
He did not stop me. Emily seemed to have arranged this in advance. She
waited, standing beside Jill, who fought back tears as she tried to squeeze
away the sting of the second slash sheÕd been given. The belt dangled
aimlessly from EmilyÕs fist, so quiet now and harmless, like a gun lying
dormant in a drawer, children playing nearby.
I closed each of the three rings over SamÕs cock. They were a bit on
the small side, and indented the flesh of his organ as they snapped shut
upon it. ÒNow with each whip-bite, the maid will pass a small electric
current through the wire, from the box, and zap your penis, Sam,Ó Emily
told my new husband. ÒThis is a wedding night, after all, where the groom
is bound in to matrimony as surely as the wife.Ó Sam looked up, shocked,
as one might say, at the purpose of this device newly applied to his penis,
but a second maid had arrived on the scene and was coaxing his big arms
behind him. He did not resist, so aroused was he by the closeness of all
this young female flesh, the maids just in their panties and me inspecting
my handiwork as I checked to make sure the rings didnÕt grip his cock with
excessive tightness. I heard a click and realized the maid behind him had
just cuffed him with handcuffs. Then the maid with the box took my
hands, lifting them from SamÕs cock, and pulled them behind me and cuffed
me as well. She turned me and sat me upon SamÕs thigh. I felt his hairy
leg on my bottom once more. At least it was better than feeling the strap!
My legs were opened. I saw that the box had a second wire running
from it. The maid bent and taped this to my clitty.
ÒPlease donÕt,Ó I begged. I watched, looking down between my
trembling bosoms, as she delicately taped the wire to me, pressing to
make sure the tape stuck properly, trying to cover as little of my pubic
hair as possible with it, for obviously it would have to be pulled off
afterward. Next wires were plugged into the box and run up to my nipples,
which she carefully wrapped with the ends of the wire. Sam was made to
stand up a little and the maid behind him stuck the end of a wire into his
asshole, then taped it there and made him sit back down. Fortunately,
perhaps because IÕd already been fucked there this evening, my butthole
was spared.
ÒNow Sam,Ó Emily said. ÒYou were so brave and eager to see your
wife thrashed before. I hope you do not show any cowardliness now.Ó
Sam gulped. ÒOkay,Ó he said at last. ÒBut how can I keep from
cuming?Ó
ÒIt is not too pleasurable, I donÕt think, having your cock shocked,Ó
Emily laughed. ÒDo your best, Sam, or I might put even you over this
bench.Ó
ÒDo it,Ó Sam said finally, meaning the whipping of his wife, I think,
not the subjugation of himself in the selfsame position, over the bench.Ó
And then both he and I jumped as a current attacked our loins, even as
Emily whacked his honeyÕs heinie. She bleated, he and I yelped. It
continued unabated then, Emily flaying poor JillÕs tushy, striping it hard
and fast, while Sam and I were jolted in our privates by the evil little
maid with the electronic box.
ÒOooh! Oooch! Owooo!Ó I blurted, Sam shouting out his own agonies,
as Jill was made to cry where she lay over the bench. Mightily Sam strove
to keep from ejaculating. I alternated between being absorbed in myself
and watching him, seeing his chest strain, his arms bound behind him, his
neck muscles bulging.
ÒDonÕt, please donÕt cum, Sam!Ó I urged him. For one thing, if he did,
and his cock shrank, the metal rings would simply fall off, leaving only me
to be tortured as Jill rang out her shrieks with each new biting fall of the
lash. I know Sam had a wire up his butt, however, it wouldnÕt be the same,
in my opinion, as having both his dick and his ass hot-wired. I guessed he
might even manage to dig the wire out of his butt with his finger, once the
pain/pleasure response of the current was no longer being applied to his
cock. He played along for the moment, trying hard not to leave me bereft,
the only one suffering. Then suddenly I felt a wetness upon my leg as I
turned to watch Jill, and, looking back at Sam, I saw for the first time in
my life his cum actually shooting out, spraying like a firehose against my
13-year-old thigh. ÒSam, no!Ó I begged, but it was too late. He grinned
happily as he realized all was lost, and the battle was over for him. When
he was done, the last of his cum shot out only on my leg, he lifted his
haunches slightly from the satin chair and ripped the wire out of his butt
with his finger.
Dialogue.
Remember the cold,
yes I remember.
Remember I love you,
yes I remember that.
Remember the hallway,
yes I remember.
White circles in your blue stones,
yes I remember that.
Seven sisters,
none really blood relation.
They were bound by Mercury,
they were closer than family.
The moon is waning little icon,
yes I remember.
Wish that it had have happened that night,
then this would not happen.
Remember thememory,
yes I remember that.
Remember I love you,
yes I remember that.
Remember the steam,
remember the green.
Remember that I love you,
yes I remember that.
(The above poem has been excerpted from Will DockeryÕs new zine,
April Bullets, which is a 32 page chapbook and is available for $1.00
from Will Dockery, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868, U.S.A.)
OUR MAILBAG...
dick@hole.com writes: Thanks for your frank discussion of faggotry.
HereÕs a stanza you can add to your song -- if you can find someplace to
stick it.
What a gas it is to be gay!
Who says buggery doesnÕt pay?
Now IÕm popular,
My date spends the dollars.
What a gas it is being gay!
prick@howe.com writes: Great song! HereÕs a stanza from my own
experience.
What a gas it is to be gay!
Now IÕm loved in every way.
My dick gets to spill,
My anus is filled.
What a gas it is to be gay!
AND IN THE END...
Jewel on people who hate
ÒIf somebody hates you itÕs usually because of something in
themselves.Ó
- Charlie Rose, March 3, 1997.
(Down with pedophiles! Oops! - h.j.)
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Dialogue is
copyright 1997 by Will Dockery.
-END OF 215 EMISSION