V O L U N T E E R , A M E R I C A
(to write sex stories!)
ÒOoooh! Ooooh! Teddy, please, stop poking me with your thing!Ó
Bethany cried out. Her finger worked greedily in her slit and her head was
flung back. Her eyes remained closed. Did she dream about being fucked
by her teddy bear?
PARTY PUSSIES
Available for downloading from: ftp://members.aol.com/nnd6
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 253
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Cunt Castle
Chapter Two
Louis, moved to expose himself again, walked up behind Rose and
prepared to jettison his load right in her lovely hair. Andre did the same.
ÒNo!Ó Bev and I cried, but it was too late. They were highly excited,
I could tell, by the stiffness of their erections, and even Polly, though
fearing the night ahead, could not help but run up to Rose and begin
frigging herself again, as if she had a penis just like the men did, except,
of course, she didnÕt.
ÒAghghg!Ó Andre shouted suddenly, and his spunk lavished itself upon
RoseÕs hair. He served as an obscene inspiration for Louis, who jettisoned
his load next, with as troubled a shout as Andre had just offered.
Simultaneously, though longer in cuming, but climaxing just in time, Jack
spurted into RoseÕs face. And little Polly, not wishing to be left out,
despite being a girl, arched her hips forward, spread her legs, got halfway
over RoseÕs head, and peed on it. In amazement I watched her little
stream as it burst out of her and she tinkled right on our loving mistress,
mingling her pee with the heady-smelling sperm of Andre, Louis, and Jack.
When all were finished, Bev turned and found the tub almost full to
overflowing. She turned off the water, mooning us in the process with her
glorious bottom. Then we got out of our things, all of us, me and Polly
keeping on only our collars and manacles, and we all went splashing into
the tub. When we were all ensconced within it, I heard a clinking bucket.
The maid appeared, Maria, big in girth but otherwise silent. She put the
bucket under the sink, filled it, and then put it down on the floor and put a
mop into it. As we sat, luxuriating in the bubbles of the bath and savoring
our spent loins, she mopped up the floor.
In the intoxicatingly hot water, which made me, I confess, a little
sleepy, after all my exertions, the menÕs pricks arose again. Polly spotted
the first one. Andre was lying back, his head against a folded, partly wet
towel. Rose had positioned herself adroitly between Andre and Louis, and
I think was fondling their balls encouragingly under the water. Polly had
consoled herself to her bath by sailing the rubber ducky around the tub. As
she passed it by Andre, her titties scooping up foam as she glided amongst
the bubbles layering the waterÕs surface, AndreÕs penis suddenly stuck up
like a periscope.
ÒOooh, donÕt bump my ducky,Ó Polly reproved her lover, and seemed
quite serious, saying it, as if she now preferred her childhood toy to his
massive erection. Andre was the youngest male. I guess thatÕs why he
recovered the quickest. Just the sight of little Polly being herself, so
innocent and pure, yet so Ôwell-rounded,Õ as one might say, excited his
loins anew. Louis followed shortly, then Jack. I guess we had a trio of
rather stalwart men. I figured Rose picked them precisely because they
could serve so many cunts so well. No nerdyboys were allowed at the
castle, I donÕt think. You had to be able to get up and stay up, and cum
repeatedly when asked to. Boys who came to soon or men who couldnÕt
find the inspiration were kept away. Although, no doubt, at times Rose
trained even these males, if they could find the money to pay her. But
guys like Andre and Louis and Jack were what she preferred. She liked to
play with her guests; test them, provoke them, make them wait and then
make them cum more times than they thought possible.
Andre suggested that we have an orgy in the tub. Rose placed a
fingertip atop his penis, and LouisÕs, rubbing their slits and feeling the
first oozings of newly created pre-cum bubble up from them.
ÒNot until after the girls have been whipped,Ó Rose said quietly.
AndreÕs cock quivered as he contemplated the fate of his little lover.
Polly pretended not to hear. Louis seemed unaffected. I shrank down in
the bubbles, instinctively, and felt back behind myself. Was I really to be
whipped? Rose kept teasing Polly and I with the thought of it, so much so
I no longer knew whether it was just to keep us under her thumb or
whether she truly intended it.
ÒAh, I have been trained in the art of the whip,Ó Bev sighed. To my
surprise she lifted the riding crop IÕd last seen in the bedroom from
beneath the water. Foam dripped from it as she held it aloft and twirled
it. Had Maria slipped it to her somehow, while I was watching Polly sail
her duck? Polly and I both felt our eyes riveted by the implement. We
knew that its most likely target was us. Bev took the crop and kissed its
looped tip. Leather, made to bite and dig into the buttocks, or whisk
across it, depending on the wielderÕs skill and spite. Bev extended her
tongue and ran the leather stick across it. The crop was longer than most,
giving it an extra whippy spring. ÒI began as a submissive, of course, a
Ôbottom,ÕÓ Bev laughed, using the term of the S&M trade. ÒIt began one
night in a nightclub. I was dancing with this guy, a little bored. He knew
the owner. There was a spare room. My boyfriend, a different guy from
Jack at the timeÓ (she smiled at her new love) Òinvited a woman to hold
me. The three of us, plus the owner, went into the room and the next thing
I knew my boyfriend and the woman volunteer were bending me over the
pool table. I didnÕt know what to think. Beyond the door, everyone else
was still dancing, the music was still playing, drinks were still being
served. The woman, going round in front of me and holding down my
wrists against the surface of the table, told me to scream freely. No one
would hear, with the music blasting away out on the dance floor. Or if
they did, just a little, they would think it was something mixed in with
the endlessly segued songs.
ÒThen my boyfriend whipped me, using his belt. IÕd done nothing
wrong. He was just bored, thatÕs all, and I was too, until IÕd realized what
IÕd gotten myself into! The owner snapped pictures of my gasping face for
my boyfriend to keep as souvenirs. I shouted for him not to, but he ignored
me. The woman bent forward over the table and kissed me and told me not
to worry. When it was over she helped me replace my dress and straighten
it. Then we went back out onto the dance floor, and my bottom couldnÕt
keep still! Everyone must have thought IÕd taken lessons, in that back
room. In fact IÕd learnt my lesson.Ó
And it was, ultimately, according to Bev, that a sound thrashing
could be fun. I doubted that. Louis told of the differences heÕd discovered
between using a paddle with a hole in it and one without.
ÒIt swings faster if you drill a hole in it, but the splat from a
completely solid paddle is somehow more satisfying,Ó Louis commented,
and Bev agreed.
ÒDonÕt forget a good bedroom slipper,Ó Jack offered. ÒI find thatÕs
best sometimes.Ó Bev exchanged a knowing glance with him. ÒSometimes
sheÕll come to bed in the sexiest nightie after IÕve been slaving away all
day at work. I mean, how can I service her if sheÕs that much hotter than I
am? I do a lot of outdoor work. It keeps me fit but it can be backbreaking
sometimes. So I give her a good whacking with a bedroom slipper, just to
burn off some of her energy. I lay her across my belly and pull her panties
down so her bottom is unprotected. Then, while IÕm just relaxing, lying
back and watching the Tonight Show, I give her repeated whacks on her
ass. Whenever I feel like it, you know? If Leno tells a stupid joke,
WHACK! If a dumb commercial comes on, WHACK! And I donÕt spare her
none, no. I want her bawling her head off by the end of the broadcast.
Then, when sheÕs weeping and feeling sorry for herself, I mount her and
make slow love to her, at my own pace, with her underneath me quivering
and crying.
The conversation continued like this, each participant in the tub,
while enjoying the silky smooth water, telling of a favorite experience
with the whip. I didnÕt really have any, and Polly had none at all. I offered
my Abandon Gardens story, then wished I hadnÕt, because Rose seemed
more determined than ever to outdo what had been done to me there.
Polly, sometimes sailing her ducky, sometimes listening raptly, said
nothing at all. Except, at the very end, she admitted sheÕd been paddled
once at school for not doing her homework.
ÒThree swats,Ó she said. ÒMy teacher told us heÕd spank us if we
didnÕt bring our homework. So, the next day, guess who forgot hers? Me.
So he took me outside and made me bend over and he paddled me with all
the other kids listening. He got in trouble, though. I think they took him
to jail or something. Mommie said he shouldnÕt have done that. So when I
told her she called the school and he got in lots of trouble. At least I hope
he did.Ó Polly ended her story and we all sat looking at her. She was so
darling, with a little frosting of bubblebath on the tip of her nose,
unnoticed by her, making her look even younger than she usually did. I was
but a year older, but I felt much older. IÕd had adventures. While I tried to
be my most mature, Polly seemed to relish playing a spoilt baby. I could
never entirely figure out whether she did it deliberately, or by accident.
We were quite a bunch, lying there in the tub, on our backs, two
grown women and two girls, with Maria mopping up and then changing the
sheets in the bedroom next door. Rose with her dark hair, loosed in the tub
so she could wash the menÕs sperm from it. Andre picked up a nearby
bottle of shampoo and dunked Rose under the water as we talked. Several
times, to get her hair wet. Then he squirted the shampoo on her and began
slicking it through her hair with his hands. He seemed to enjoy it. Louis
plucked at RoseÕs nipples and commented on the beauty of her glistening
white breasts. They bobbed like marshmallows on the water, half-
submerged. Rose shut her eyes and let the two men admire and play with
her. Louis found her clit and made her gasp with little gasps of pleasure
as Andre played bathtub beautician with her hair. Bev took to necking
with Jack, leaving me to Polly. I asked her if I could sail her duck and she
let me, just a little, all the while telling me I was not doing it right.
ÒDucky doesnÕt go in reverse!Ó Polly scolded me, watching intently.
ÒDucky is made of rubber. He can go any way I want him to,Ó I
answered.
ÒOoooh! I donÕt like my ducky going backwards!Ó Polly said.
ÒItÕs not yours. It belongs to Rose,Ó I reminded her. And so on. Tit
for tat, until Polly grabbed her duck back from me.
MAGAZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Mayfair, Volume 32, Number 2, $6.99. E-mail: mayfair@pr-org.co.uk
Review: What is it about Claire Cass? SheÕs back again, in another
issue of Mayfair. Once again sheÕs the centerfold. Despite all the other
gorgeous girls in this issue, IÕm once again jacking off to Claire.
Why is this girl so fantastic? I really canÕt explain it. Her eyes are
too small. Her breasts are too small. Yet there is something truly
marvelous about her. I could probably spend the rest of my life buying
Mayfair and looking at her. Of course, if I saw her walking down the
street, I assume IÕd pay her no attention. IÕd just say, ÒHo hum, another
girl with no tits.Ó (Cause theyÕre quite small.) Yet, in the magazine, IÕm
utterly infatuated with her.
IÕve been masturbating over new Claire Cass pictorials for so long, I
feel like IÕm married to her! Every month she appears, and every month I
go running down to Tower. I always want to be sure to get a good copy.
This monthÕs issue came out early. It was almost sold out when I
wandered into Tower, looking for other magazines. I barely avoided
getting the last, heavily dented copy of Mayfair.
Can someone explain why I like Claire so much? I always thought I
had very rigid standards of female beauty. They determined precisely,
with dispassionate scientific accuracy, how much I liked a girl. Cute
face, big (but not enormous) bosoms, long legs, etc. Points were awarded
for each. There were various Òfudge factorsÓ built in over the years,
depending on which asset appealed to me at the moment. But despite the
Òfudge factorsÓ (EinsteinÕs theory of Relativity has them too), everything
was exact and precise. Simply add up the qualities on a girl, and youÕd
find out exactly what my opinion of her was.
Yet here is Claire. She doesnÕt meet my standards. And this is her
umpteenth pictorial. YouÕd think, even if I liked her, that IÕd be getting
bored with her by now. But IÕm not! I love this monthÕs pictorial of Claire
very much! When I got home from Tower I bent down on my knees and
prayed to God. I thanked Him for sending me to Tower on a day when I
mightnÕt have gone, enabling me to purchase this very important Mayfair.
When this month is over, IÕll probably decide, once again, that of all the
pictorials I saw this month, ClairÕs was the best. Sorry, Playboy! Sorry,
Penthouse! Sorry, Hustler! Sure, IÕll probably cough up the dough for your
issues too, and enjoy them, but I know IÕll remember Claire most.
This month Claire plays a bride. We see her all dressed up for her
wedding. SheÕs standing, though, in front of a bed. You know this is going
to be a GREAT wedding ceremony, because the vows are going to be skipped
entirely!
Turning the page, we see Claire begin to undress. What a wonderful
shot there is of her! We see just a bit of her bra strap showing, as she
unzips her wedding gown. Now, this is a great photo! Bob Guccione would
say, ÒWhereÕs the cunt? YouÕve got to be able to see her cunt!Ó DonÕt
worry, Bob. There is a cunt shot coming up, but how delicious it is to see
Claire just beginning to undress. Too many porn publishers think the
customer is only interested in gynecological shots. Yet here we have a
pure, simple bride, showing just a hint of her bra, and already IÕm rigidly
excited! (More so, indeed, than by any number of Ôshow everythingÕ
Penthouse photos.)
Soon Claire is baring her bottom. Is there a tradition in England of
whipping the bride on her wedding night? It seems a good idea. Then she
knows whoÕs boss in the marriage. Up the dress, lower the panties, and
break the bride in properly! There will be no more talk about hubby doing
dishes and diapers after that! And I sense, looking at Claire, that there
are others watching, to make sure the groom does a good job of teaching
her marital discipline.
Finally, there is a gorgeous cunt shot. As you know, I rarely stress
cunt shots. IÕve never fancied them much, for some reason. And every
time you open a porno magazine, what do you see? The cunt. ItÕs sort of
Ôde rigueur,Õ I guess.
For once, though, I am deeply impressed by a cunt shot. This is a
wonderful, stupendous cunt shot that Claire offers us. Why do I like this
cunt shot so much? Is it Claire, or her cunt? IÕm not sure. But if youÕve
ever dreamed of fathering children in the perfect bride, here she is. Open
and ready!
Ooops! Now IÕm NOT ready... anymore.
(Sorry, Claire.)
I hope Mayfair puts Claire Cass in every one of their issues for the
rest of eternity. I have no idea why I like her but, month after month, itÕs
Claire Cass I look forward to FAR more than any other girl.
ATTENTION, GIRLS!
Have you petted a penis today? Each man carries a penis around with
him in his pants. Believe it or not, this big schlong-type thing is alive!
Just like your dog or cat is. And it needs love, more in fact than your dog
or cat does.
Penis responds quickly and easily to all your needs. It can do tricks
for you -- just ask. Or you can just sit and pet it. But be careful,
sometimes white stuff shoots out of it if it gets really excited.
Penis can be put in your mouth. Feeling hungry? Pop a penis in your
mouth! (You canÕt do that with your dog or cat, can you?) Penis will fill
you right up. But donÕt suck too hard -- you donÕt want any of that white
stuff shooting into your tummy. YouÕll be too full for dinner and mommie
will be angry.
Do you ever feel empty inside? Down there? Guess what -- when
youÕre feeling empty between your legs, the man tends to be feeling quite
full! Happily, God has created a way for both to be satisfied. When you are
full in that empty place, you will be happy. (Trust me on this.) And the
man is happiest when heÕs just been emptied. (ItÕs strange, I know. Maybe
God made a mistake.) In any event, just put the manÕs penis into that
place where you feel empty. (YouÕll need to take your panties down first.)
Then, when penis is inside, just say this simple sentence:
ÒPlease fuck me.Ó
That will do it. Afterward, youÕll be full and happy. The man will be
empty and happy. Penis might get a little small then. But donÕt worry.
HeÕs just resting. HeÕll be back soon!
- written by a pervert, to annoy non-perverts
AND IN THE END...
THE PERVERTÕS PRAYER
Our Claire,
Who art in Mayfair,
Hallowed be thy bod.
Thy cunny cum,
Thy will be done,
In my bedroom,
As it is in Mayfair.
Give us this day our daily jack,
And flog us for our trespasses,
As we have dreamt of flogging thee.
And lead us into temptation,
Delivering us into ecstasy.
For thine is the cunt,
And the boobs,
And the 12-year-old face,
Forever and ever,
Amen.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-END OF 253 EMISSION