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WERE YOU THERE
When they Crucified my Lord?
Jesus hung upon the cross, gazing down at the people. Hundreds of
people were looking up at him.
ÒI hang here for a couple of hours, and then I get revered as a God for
2,000 years,Ó Jesus mused to himself. ÒWhat a great deal.Ó He watched
as his eleven disciples plied the crowd for offerings. ÒYes, what a racket
this is,Ó Jesus said to himself. ÒHmmm, I donÕt want to look too
comfortable up here. Sure, I am the Son of God, but IÕve got to look sort of
like they would, if they were hanging up here.Ó Jesus paused, thought to
himself. ÒHmmm, letÕs see. I have plenty of Divine Air Conditioning,
hanging up here, but they wouldnÕt, if they were hanging up here. I guess
theyÕd be pretty hot, hanging up here in the sun.Ó
So Jesus cried out, ÒGod, IÕm thirsty.Ó And they gave him some
vinegar to drink.
(For a God, this tasted like the sweetest wine.)
ÒYum,Ó Jesus said. ÒThat was tasty. But I guess it wasnÕt too
moral, having a free drink like that.Ó And so Jesus rolled back time,
several minutes, and showed himself to the people refusing the vinegar,
though he was, at the same time, enjoying it in his belly (as wine).
ÒI have to go to the bathroom!Ó Jesus yelled next, though his faithful
disciples omitted that phrase, when writing down the last words of
Christ.
ÒGod, I could use a visit to a whorehouse right now!Ó Jesus cried
from upon the cross. (But again his disciples chose to edit the words.)
ÒI want my MTV!Ó Jesus yelled. Then, thinking to himself, he
remarked, ÒOoops! Wrong century. Hmmm. Wrong millennium, too.Ó
(His disciples had no idea what he was talking about, and omitted
the phrase.)
Jesus hung from the cross. The sun beat down. A bird flew by. It
saw that Jesus wasnÕt making too much use of his crown of thorns. But
the crown was round in shape, and nice and high in the air. So the bird
landed in it. He decided to use it for a nest.
ÒGet out of my head, you fucking bird!Ó Jesus yelled. Though his
hands were nailed to the cross, he could still move his fingers. So he gave
the bird to the bird, raising up his middle finger.
The bird flitted away. But, seeing Jesus was rather immobile, he
made a quick pass over JesusÕ head, and pooped on it.
This really pissed Jesus off. ÒIÕve had it, hanging up here,Ó Jesus
groused. ÒSure, IÕll get 2,000 years worth of offerings for doing it, but
Dad doesnÕt need the money.Ó And so Jesus died, at least to mortal eyes.
And on his way out, he split the curtain in the temple in two, shook the
earth, and terrorized the people with lightning.
ÒFUCK YOU!Ó Jesus yelled to the dumb fucks still standing around his
cross. But the thunder was loud, and it drowned out his curse.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 273
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Four
ÒMy, you two are eager beavers this morning!Ó Rose complimented
the boys. ÒIÕd have thought BrentÕs wife would have drained you both.Ó
ÒWe gave her our all... or so we thought,Ó Louis mused. He glanced
down at his own cock, as surprised as the rest of us were that it could
rise again so quickly. We were all deliciously naked, except for the
manacles Cheyenne and Polly and I wore every day around our ankles and
wrists and throats. Rose had on a little robe that did nothing to hide her
charms. It was belted round her waist, but had been pulled open to show
her breasts and was so short it barely covered her bottom, while in front
it wafted open to let us all see her pubis. In any event it was nearly
transparent, despite being adorned with transparent lace flowers, so that
anything the robe hid was, in fact, not hidden at all, despite being covered.
Andre and Louis were naked from their toes to the tips of their heads (and
their newly risen cocks). Nonetheless Rose passed them a comb and made
them comb their hair so theyÕd look presentable for our little party.
Kelly entered. She was wearing silk stockings with slight runs in
them. Her maidÕs hat was on, as well as her garter belt, which held up her
elastic-free stockings. Otherwise she was nude, except for splotches of
mustard someone had squirted on her. In her hand she held a bottle of
FrenchÕs mustard.
ÒSorry! I couldnÕt get it away from the kids!Ó Kelly sighed. She was
fresh from the nursery, I guessed, the childrenÕs nursery in which BrentÕs
two daughters and Johnnie were being kept entertained. A shiver went
down my spine. If Kelly wasnÕt in the nursery, who was? And I knew in an
instant, despite trying to keep the thought out. Brent was there. And his
wife, having had her brains fucked out by Louis and Andre, was, as one
might say, Ôindisposed.Õ She might even still be tied down in a bedroom
somewhere, allowed to sleep after her raping.
Kelly also carried a bag with her. In it were party things. Rose
opened it, passed out hats. She gave me one. It was a little cone-shaped
party hat and I put it on my head, tucking the string chin-strap under my
chin. I looked silly in it. I could not put one on Cheyenne because of the
post in her mouth, but I tried anyway. Louis and Andre donned hats, as did
Polly and Rose. Kelly left to fetch us some treats.
ÒKeep an eye on the nursery too, if you can!Ó I called after her. Rose
scolded me.
ÒIt is none of your affair, dear. DonÕt be prudish,Ó she said. She
handed me the bottle of mustard. ÒSquirt it onto the lash. It will make it
sting more.Ó I took the mustard with tentative hands. Cheyenne mewled
again.
ÒNo, it isnÕt Grey Poupon,Ó I told her. ÒSorry.Ó It was FrenchÕs
mustard.
ÒI call it Grey Poop!Ó Polly volunteered. ÒI donÕt like that brand!Ó
ÒTry to be a little grown up, Polly,Ó Rose admonished. She
straightened the girlÕs party hat. Polly picked up a party favor and blew
on it. She seemed startled when the curled-up end of it shot out. Then,
after enjoying this new toy a few times, she decided to attack Louis and
AndreÕs erections with it. They laughed as Polly bent down and fired her
party favor at them, hitting their cocks with its unfurling tail.
Meanwhile, I took my snakeskin lash and squirted FrenchÕs mustard
all over it. Cheyenne seemed mesmerized. She was the center of
attention of all of us, or soon would be. Rose told Polly to behave herself
or sheÕd find herself joining Cheyenne. Kelly returned, perhaps having
found a tray downstairs already prepared by Maria. She offered us wafers
with cheese, bits of meat, celery dip and sprigs of oregano. Rose said the
dip had an ancient aphrodisiac laced into it to make us more, as she put it,
Òactive.Ó I was concentrating on preparing my lash with the mustard but
she offered me a wafer and made me eat it out of her hand. I felt my
nipples perk up a little as I swallowed it. Polly munched down several
wafers, saying she was hungry. A minute later she dropped to her knees
and eagerly began playing with both Louis and AndreÕs cocks. It was
amazing to see her, a little girl down on her knees, wearing a party hat,
fondling Louis and AndreÕs organs as if they were sausages that needed
skinning. The men, amused, each let her play with their manhood. Rose
warned Polly not to make them cum.
ÒYouÕd better begin, darling, we havenÕt forever,Ó Rose told me. I
lifted my snakeskin lash and twirled it about. It looked deadly. I bent and
kissed CheyenneÕs bottom cheeks to remind her that I loved her. We were
just playing. I wanted to see her squirm a little. And, if I could manage
it, this would count as her official penal whipping that would make her a
proper young lady at the castle.
I dangled the tail of the whip into the cleft of CheyenneÕs ass. I let
her feel the pointed tail drawing up and down between her tensing cheeks.
ÒYou are too long about it,Ó Rose told me. She put her knee on my
bed, took the whip from me, lifted it, and summarily brought it down on
CheyenneÕs ass with a loud SNAP! Cheyenne screamed, drew her cheeks in
as it hit, then bucked her bottom outward to try to get rid of the pain.
WHACK! THWACK! Rose rewarded the girl with two more cracks of
the whip, each just as awful as the first.
ÒMy, what nice lines you deliver,Ó I heard over my shoulder. It was
Bambi, nude as we were, with a party hat on. I gulped. Just seeing her
made me afraid. Rose returned the snakeskin lash to me.
ÒShow Bambi what a good whipmistress you are,Ó Rose told me. I
swallowed again and accepted the lash. I looked at CheyenneÕs bottom.
There was no sense in sparing it now. Three angry red lines crisscrossed
its creamy white surface. Her cheeks, so lovely, looked like some mean
animal had lashed out at their satin beauty. With trembling hands I lifted
the lash, holding it with both my hands, as if to reassure myself that I
wouldnÕt drop it, and I brought it down upon CheyenneÕs hiney.
ÒYeoooch!Ó Cheyenne screamed a gag-muddled scream. I looked and
saw I had barely left a mark.
ÒJust one hand, use the wrist to inflict the blow,Ó Rose told me. She
reached out and took one of my hands, making it hold the lash all by itself.
Then she drew my arm back and together we brought the lash down on
Cheyenne.
WHAHACK! The lash scored a double hit. It struck CheyenneÕs left
cheek and then rippled across to her right. The girl howled and shook her
bottom as if she were being paid to. The men laughed.
ÒThis is better than a strip bar!Ó Andre crowed. Polly had taken to
sucking his cock. She was bobbing her head furiously up and down his
shaft, deeper than she might ever had attempted, but for the naughty
crackers. Andre absently stroked her hair, happy for the attention, but
more intrigued by the punishment of CheyenneÕs adorable bottom. With her
other hand, Polly kept Louis erect and aware. I saw he was dripping pre-
cum and prayed she didnÕt bring him off in her cracker-induced ardor. She
was just a child, given to impulses. I hoped Rose kept an eye on her. Louis
gazed at me, enjoying the movements of my figure, the bouncing of my
breasts against my chest, the allure of my bottom. He seemed oblivious to
the fact that little Polly was playing with his penis although, no doubt, at
some level he must have felt it, for his balls were drawn up tightly and
his peehole glimmered with the liquid jewels of his pre-sperm.
ÒMake her really buck and move!Ó Louis urged me. He had his hands
on his hips, as if he were some prison warden, giving orders to an
underling. I nodded, politely. I put my hand to my throat, steadied my
hand, and lifted it, unassisted this time by Rose.
ÒRemember to use your wrist,Ó Rose reminded me.
Cheyenne, watching from a mirror, drew in her aching cheeks and
held them as if against a mighty storm. And then I let her have it.
WHACKCK! I managed a double-strike. It was harsh. Cheyenne
screeched into her ball-shaped gag and let her bottom cheeks bound and
waggle and dance like any common slut on a dance stage. I smiled at her
lack of composure. This was fun! How embarrassed she must feel. I drew
back my lash and hit her again.
ÒNow wipe off the mustard and use a new implement,Ó Rose told me.
She handed me a rag but moistened it with a bottle of alcohol. I grinned
and took the rag she offered me. I rubbed it over CheyenneÕs ass cheeks.
The girl hollared as she felt the stinging alcohol rubbed over her wounded
bottom.
ÒYouÕre getting the hang of it,Ó Bambi told me. She knelt on the bed
beside me and made me shiver as she palmed my bottom. Did she have
plans for me? I looked at Rose. I wanted to tell Bambi to go away but
Rose seemed to enjoy having her. Bambi slapped my bottom and told me to
pick the martinet. ÒThat will really make her regret showing off her ass
in public!Ó Bambi crowed.
I turned and kissed Bambi on the mouth, still holding my alcohol
wipe, still tending to CheyenneÕs bottom with it. I knew I shouldnÕt
encourage her, but I couldnÕt help it. Something about her intrigued me,
especially with Louis and Andre watching. ÒYou are utterly, utterly
wicked,Ó I told Bambi. She accepted my kiss and delved a finger into my
bottom hole. At the same time she rubbed herself, juicing her slit.
ÒShow me what a good whipmistress you are,Ó Bambi smiled.
ÒPlay with me while I do it,Ó I answered.
ÒOkay,Ó she said, and began frigging my slit for me, from behind,
bending down so she could really get at me. I knelt with my legs wider
apart on the sheets. Cheyenne would really feel some punishment now. I
couldnÕt help it. I was hot and bothered now, and I needed something to
distract me.
I lay aside the alcohol wipe and selected the martinet from the bag.
It had been boiled in starch to make it stiff. I raised it, watched as
CheyenneÕs appealing bottom waved in front of me to attempt to avoid the
blow. Her ankles were not tied. She might have kicked back at me at any
time but, so far, had contented herself with stretching her calves upward,
or stamping her feet upon the bed. She was well-controlled, despite her
pain-rent contortions. She was a good girl. I would not be too harsh with
her, I decided. I brought the martinet down firmly, Ôjudiciously,Õ one
might say, given that this was to be a judicial whipping. Cheyenne
groaned and kicked out, sideways, thankfully, while I watched her antics,
Bambi all the while intrusively massaging my slit. She palmed by bottom,
as if preparing it for a whipping of its own. I lofted my martinet and hit
CheyenneÕs ass again. She howled, shook her breasts, her bottom.
ÒNo more! No more!Ó I heard her cry, looking at me wide-eyed in the
mirror.
ÒYouÕre doing very well, Cheyenne,Ó was all I said in reply. To
console her, but in a sadistic way, I passed the alcohol wipe over her ass.
She screeched into her gag and stamped her pretty feet on the bedsheets.
She was rumpling my bed quite badly. And I had thought her so good. I
gave her another blow from the martinet. She cried out, began crying.
ÒNow weÕre getting somewhere!Ó Bambi said from behind me, and
slapped my bottom again as if to remind me of her own intentions. Well,
IÕd cross that bridge when it came to me.
I took up a thin little whip next. I wiped it through the alcohol rag
to make sure it would be as insidiously painful as I could make it.
Cheyenne was beside herself now, bawling over the bulging ball-shaped
gag, which kept her jaws wide apart, letting her tears flow freely. Polly
had looked up from her sucklings of Louis and Andre to watch. She had a
look of concern on her face that preschool children show when they see
another child whoÕs hurt. Rose patted her head and told her to go back to
enjoying Louis and Andre.
I saw Kelly appear with a teapot. She poured Rose a cup of hot tea.
Glancing at me, Rose took the cup, drank from it, and held the fluid in her
mouth. Then she knelt before Louis, drew PollyÕs hand off him, and put her
mouth over LouisÕs cockhead.
ÒYeeeowww!Ó Louis groaned. He had not seen her coming, he was so
entranced with me, and my whipping of CheyenneÕs bottom. Rose held
LouisÕs penis delicately within her mouth, keeping his shaft still with
gentle fingers upon it, her sharp nails careful not to scratch him. She
made him feel the full effect of the hot tea on his penis head. Then,
spluttering at last from the hilarity of it, she lost her mouthful of tea,
spilling it on the carpet, and set to sucking LouisÕs prick gently to make
him feel better. Eagerly Louis thrust his penis into her mouth to assuage
the sting from the hot tea. Kelly, though, feeling playful, or perhaps on
instructions from Rose, given beforehand, took her teapot and maliciously
poured hot tea onto LouisÕs ass.
ÒYeeeeoowowoch!Ó Louis cried. His ass shot forward to avoid the
tea, burrowing himself even deeper into RoseÕs mouth. Kelly laughed. She
did not desist, but playfully aimed the teapot at LouisÕs ass again and
poured once more. He groaned and urged his hips forward. Kelly made him
take yet more, pouring the tea inbetween the cheeks of his ass. Then she
went to Andre and gave him the same treatment. Polly sucked his cock so
it, at least, would feel better. And she got the full force of his erection
as he attempted to arch his bottom out of the way of KellyÕs tea. Neither
man, however, did more than thrust himself forward. To change the
position of his feet, to run away, would have been unmanly. Each stood his
ground and did his best to withstand KellyÕs burning tea. It was not so hot
that it could scald him. She had made sure of that. It was just hot enough
to add to the fun of our party.
I gave Cheyenne a goodly number of strokes with the little whip.
Bambi kept at my own ass, exploring my cleft, my hole, tickling my cunny
also, to keep me excited.
At last I picked up the riding crop. It was a short, no-nonsense crop.
I pressed it to CheyenneÕs bottom, marking out the place I intended to hit
with it. She cried profusely, watching me through her tears in the mirror,
knowing that I would put a welt right where IÕd impressed the crop into
her skin, if my aim were true. I drew back my hand.
ÒHereÕs your welt, Cheyenne,Ó I told her. Then I hit her as hard as I
could, right where IÕd meant to. Cheyenne hollared over the bulging gag in
her mouth. She let an outburst of tears blubber forth. In back her bottom
strove and bucked and squeezed. She kicked back at me, striking my
boobies with her heel. In answer, quite promptly, I hit her again with the
crop, awarding her a second weal for her gross misbehavior. Cheyenne
screeched and stamped her feet on the bed, but wisely avoided kicking at
me again.
AND IN THE END...
AMEN!
ÒSimon Dykes wakes after a drink-and-drugs spree to find that he
is living in a world where male chimps are accused of abusing their
daughters if they do not give them sexual satisfaction.Ó
- The Economist, May 10, 1997, pg. 83.
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