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Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
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Issue No. 352
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Dungeon of Desire
Chapter Four
ÒYou have to undress too,Ó Katy told Jennifer. ÒYouÕre just the
servant girl. Do you think you can stay clothed while weÕre naked?Ó Katy
smiled at her and walked quickly over to her. Katy would make sure that
Jennifer played her role completely, and she would see that Jennifer was
rewarded, in the end, if she did. Of that I was sure. I watched as Katy
unbuttoned the lone button at the top of JenniferÕs blouse. It was the only
button that Katy had been permitted to be closed during the entire tea
ceremony. Emitting a little cry of despair, Jennifer, her bottom already
showing signs of having been punished, watched as Katy drew her blouse
off her slim arms. She was left as bereft as we. She huddled her arms
over her bosoms and closed her thighs. Katy folded her blouse and went
and laid it on top of my robe.
Could we escape? I doubted it. I was sure Katy had locked the cellar
door. Yet, was there perhaps a key someplace that could open it? I did not
know. I didnÕt want to run anyplace without Dick. I felt butterflies rise
up in my tummy as I sauntered over to him, quite naked now, both of us
naked, and quietly took his hand. I felt like we were Adam and Eve. We
acknowledged each other with just our fingertips, our hands pressing
together. We gazed out at all the rare and devilish equipment that lay
waiting to test and tease our nude bodies. I could hardly tear my eyes
from it all and I felt my breath coming in gasps as I contemplated it. My
bosoms rose and fell on my chest. My pussy tingled. DickÕs big, well-
formed penis stuck out like a post, quivering, still wet from being in
KatyÕs mouth.
There is a certain thrill, I think, in stripping nude in a dungeon. You
take off your clothes as if for a bath, but instead there is no tub and no
bathwater. Just big machines and strange evil-looking devices. I
squeezed DickÕs hand hard. But he did not respond. He was dumb-struck by
the thought of challenging all this equipment with just his bare body and
his big, powerful penis.
Katy tossed back her mane of black hair and strode up behind myself
and Dick as we stood enthralled by the dungeon, peering into it, wondering.
How strange to be invited into a place where the dress code consisted of
nudity, and where so many items of the furniture looked designed to test
those parts of the body least seen: nipples, lips, holes (however tightly
closed). And for the male, his testicles might be given a challenge; and
his penis, of course. So much of what was expected in the real world was
turned on its head here. Katy put a palm to each of our bottoms and urged
us forward. I tried to walk with light steps. I looked down at my feet and
let my hair fall into my face. It would protect me. I would be blonde hair
and it would shield me, this tumbling mane of long lovely streamers. I
felt concealed within it; yet with KatyÕs palm ingratiating itself within
the crack of my bare bottom I knew I was telling myself lies that my ass,
at least, couldnÕt believe.
ÒThis is the wall,Ó Katy said from behind. Her voice was all
softness and Japanese gentleness. I dared myself to look up. There,
several feet in front of me, stood a plyboard structure that had been built
as an outcrop from the real stone wall of the dungeon. It was sturdily
constructed and was bolted firmly to both floor and ceiling. The wood was
smooth, with a light gloss of polish upon it, letting the natural beige color
of the wood show through.
A glory hole offered itself for DickÕs penis. A bench ran in front of
the wall, with no back to it. I quickly saw, as did dick, to his penisÕs
surprise, that he might be pushed forward and made to kneel on the bench
and forced (or inspired) to stick his penis in the glory hole. Slipping from
behind us, Katy took fetched a big fluffy pink towel. She advanced to the
bench and, bending over to show us the splendor of her nude bottom, spread
the pink towel out on the bench, folding it, so that it offered a cushion for
the knees. She stepped away and admired her handiwork.
ÒThereÕs no reason to be uncomfortable just because youÕre in the
dungeon,Ó she smiled at Dick and me. Then she pranced back around behind
us. Giving each of our asses a quick slap, she impelled us forward.
I found myself looking down at the bench, through the mass of my
fallen hair, my belly moving softly, flat but expanding and contracting
inward with my anxious breaths. My bosoms offered their tips. My pussy,
snug between my legs, contemplated the soft towel on the bench and
wondered if spendings from my crotch might soon stain the fabric.
And then I looked up. No! Twin glory holes created for my nipples
waited. I bent a little, looking curiously, with that awful fear I felt
getting a paper back from my teacher in school, not wanting to look at the
grade sheÕd given me but HAVING to, just having to know! Within the twin
little holes created for my nipples were little rings, a row of them,
vaginal-like, offering to take my nipples within themselves and then
clamp down on them...hard. I had no illusions that it would be hard. Behind
the board, out of my view, was a screw mechanism that could be twisted
to close the rings upon themselves until they held my nipples securely.
And it would be just the nipples. My nipples. Not the areola or the
rest of my breast, just the very tip. If I was behaved, of course, I could
never suffer, or even be put into these awful holes. But I wasnÕt behaved.
My nipples were big and stiff and hungry. And, beside me, contemplating
his own glory hole, his male hole, stood my boyfriend Dick. His cock was
like a giant sausage, bobbing freely on the air. YouÕd think heÕd be happy
with just that, but heÕd been displaying his penis to us girls all through
the tea ceremony and now his hips shuddered and his buttocks tensed
repeatedly as he longed to have his penis held captive and squeezed.
ÒUp, you two! Get up on the bench!Ó Katy told us. Like swimmers
mounting the blocks to begin a race, my boyfriend and I climbed up onto
the bench. For him, it was merely a matter of lifting his knees. I had to
press my hands to the bench, partly out of gracefulness, wanting to stay
fine and perfect and feminine in all my movements, partly because the
bench was high for me and I had to climb on it, like an Incan maiden
preparing herself for ritual slaughter.
BARE AT THE BOOKSTORE
by holy joe
A Place in the Sun, by David Hamilton, $39.95. Hardcover. Many color
pages. Web: http://www.barnesandnoble.com
Review: We live in a diverse society. There are all kinds of people
in America. I enjoy this book. I think itÕs a wonderful book. But some
people say they donÕt like David HamiltonÕs work. Some, most notably
right-wing Christians, have even called it Òkiddie porn.Ó Hence, on the
controversial subject of Òkiddie porn,Ó I felt it was incumbent upon me to
get a second opinion. (For my opinion on David HamiltonÕs A Place in the
Sun, see the previous issue of this zine.)
Some years ago, I was listening to a university professor. The
following question was posed to him: ÒWhy are Jews smarter than other
people?Ó His response: ÒJews may be smarter than other people because
dumb Jews self-select themselves out of the race.Ó (A true story, by the
way, told by a Jewish professor, which is why I feel free to repeat it.)
So, today I was thinking, ÒWhat about fundamentalist Christians?Ó
They profess being Òborn-again,Ó which is necessarily a self-selected
group. I donÕt see anything unnatural in David HamiltonÕs A Place in the
Sun, but then I donÕt go running off to church every Sunday, obsessed with
Sin. (Or the desire to raise controversy in order to have a fundraising
ploy.)
Today, I broke with tradition. Instead of going to Tower Books, I
went to church. After the service, I pigeonholed a Christian. I showed him
my book, David HamiltonÕs A Place in the Sun. I flipped through the
pictures and asked him to tell me what he saw. (He asked that I not refer
to him by name, so IÕll call him Peter Prude):
pp: Paganism! ThatÕs what I see!
hj: This is just the cover.
pp: Yes! But there are two young girls on that cover, both of them topless!
hj: You can only see their backs...
pp: But I know what they have in front! Twin pairs of pert, firm, half-
formed bosoms! And probably with stiff nipples too, if that sea water is
chilly!
hj: So, like, how does that cause you to see Paganism? Nudity, maybe,
but...
pp: ItÕs like in that horrible book I had to read in college. By that man...
that HEATHEN! What was his name? I know the first letter is just like
that book, The Story of O !
hj: Ovid?
pp: Yes! ThatÕs him! Those two girls on the cover of this book by David
Hamilton, they look like two nymphs straight out of OvidÕs Metamorphoses!
And the whole book is filled with them, IÕll bet! Water nymphs, wood
nymphs, dryads, sprites! A universe of pagans, all UNsaved by the blood of
our Lord Jesus Christ!
hj: Good God! Sold in a 20th Century bookstore, no less.
pp: Yes! Imagine! When they could stock their whole store with Bibles,
instead they give over shelf-space to Paganism?! WeÕll get a law passed
against that, you can be sure of it!
hj: Praise the Lord, Brother! (I had to pretend to be one of them, dear
reader, in order to get honest answers.)
pp: Yes! May the Lord God strike down Barnes and Noble for selling such a
SINFUL book, with pictures of Pagans in it! Nude Pagans! Let me see the
rest of that book, brother! We must examine every picture, to ensure that
we are fully apprised of the debased nature of its contents. We donÕt want
to be ignorant of the ways of the Devil!
hj: Certainly not! LetÕs have at this book, by God! Here, look at this! Page
25!
pp: ItÕs a damn beach! Do you think I want to look at a damn beach? Where
are the girls? I want to see naked, under age, lithe, supple minors!
hj: Sorry. Let me flip to another page... Ooops! No girls here on page 23,
either...
pp: Ahah! A flower!
hj: Sorry...
pp: No need to apologize, brother! See? A flower! David Hamilton is
promoting the homosexual lifestyle!
hj: He is?
pp: Whenever you see a flower in an Art book, itÕs coded language,
intended to convey acceptance for the lifestyle of fags and sodomites!
hj: Are you sure?
pp: Friend, you obviously are new to our Christian faith. Let me tell you
something. Ninety-nine percent of our followers will never see this book.
Heck, itÕs probably *sold out* in most stores. But they DO read the
fundraising letters we send them. So, if you see a flower in an Art book,
it *automatically* qualifies as gay propaganda.
hj: Oh, I see. You find a bunch of gullible, paranoid people, send them lies,
and they send you money.
pp: Yes! But you must think up a new issue each year. You canÕt just stay
with one thing. Plus, it must be something you can claim is outrageous!
An outrage! Otherwise they donÕt send in their money.
hj: Praise the Lord!
pp: Show me some more pictures, brother! I want to see some girls!
hj: Ah, yes. Hmmm, page 36... Ooops. ItÕs just a bunch of huts...
pp: PRIMITIVE huts! HeÕs promoting multi-culturalism! A communist,
hippie/yuppie philosophy, designed to undermine our nationsÕ Judeo-
Christian tradition!
hj: Here we go! Page 89! A nude girl! Tell me what you see here, brother,
so I can understand the point-of-view of a fellow Christian.
pp: Yes! Here is what I see... A tranquil blue-green sea laps quietly at the
pussy of a young girl as she contemplates a playful dive into deeper water.
hj: Ah! Like, maybe sheÕs fooled around a little, but now sheÕs going to
Ôtake the plungeÕ. She desires to be deflowered!
pp: Yes! And look at the opposite page. HereÕs what I see on page 88:
With quiet ocean waves caressing her legs, gently moistening her sex, a
girl lies at the edge of the tide, on the beach. As she waits for the tide to
rise, she juts her bottom toward the sky, daring Phoebus to burn it.
hj: Good God! When someone could be thinking about Jezebel, heÕs forced
to think about that instead!
pp: Disgusting! Turn on, brother. Turn to another page.
hj: What are you doing? Why are you putting your hand in your pants?
pp: IÕm girding my loins. All good Christians do that.
hj: Oh. Okay.
pp: Show me more of the bizarre, perverted works of Satan!
hj: Ooops. ThereÕs just a plant here on page 91.
pp: More sickness! See the shape of those leaves? It reminds me of
marijuana! HeÕs promoting the drug culture!
hj: He is?
pp: Yes! Turn on. Find some more of those bare-bottomed girls!
hj: HereÕs one-- page 162!
pp: EEEEEEEEYAH! A sleepy blonde lies quietly in the cool shade of her
masterÕs bedroom. He watches her still, slowly-breathing figure from
across the room. He gazes lustily at the whiteness of her nude bottom,
where her swimsuit usually covers her. Slowly, as he regards her bare
figure, he pulls his belt from his pants...
hj: Bravo! Be sure to include that one in your fundraising letter!
pp: Yes! Show me more! WeÕre really moving now!
hj: Are you still girding your loins?
pp: Indeed, brother! You should try it some time. Just donÕt tell my wife.
hj: Ooops. Here on page 132 thereÕs just a mule.
pp: Sex with animals!
hj: LetÕs see... how about page 134. Ooops. ItÕs just a grove of bamboo.
pp: Support for the Viet Cong!
hj: Whoa. On pages 176 and 177 there are men... with clothes on...
pp: See? See? What did I tell you? HeÕs preaching homosexuality!
hj: Ahhh. At last. HereÕs some girls... page 28.
pp: Mmmmm! With quiet whispers, two captive slave girls plot their
escape from Bondage Beach!
hj: Bondage Beach?
pp: Yes. Their master has spared them the punishments heÕs inflicted on
the older girls, but they know heÕll turn to them soon.
hj: So do they escape?
pp: Yes. They see a ship. They wave to it and draw it close. But then,
just as itÕs about to save them, they metamorphose into Sirens. Gleefully
they watch as the ship is lured into a dangerous outcropping of rocks in
the sea and its sailors are drowned.
hj: What happens then?
pp: Poseidon changes the Sirens back into girls. HeÕs in league with their
master, you see, to prevent their escaping.
hj: Is there any more to this story?
pp: Yes! Seeing the boatload of hardy sailors dashed to pieces on the
rocks, the girls realize whatÕs happened. They pray to Zeus to restrain
Poseidon. He does, and when the girls see another ship, they call to it.
But this time they donÕt turn into Sirens and they donÕt lure the ship onto
the rocks.
hj: So are they saved?
pp: Yes. They think they are. But when they board the ship, they find out
itÕs owned by Bluebeard the Pirate!
hj: Yikes!
pp: So they go from Bondage Beach to Bondage Brig!
At that point, I figured I had enough information. No wonder those
Christians need to go to church so much-- what an imagination they have!
Anyway, IÕm planning to go to church much more often myself. I didnÕt
realize that halfway through the service they pass around a plate with
money in it! I helped myself to 45 dollars, enough to buy David HamiltonÕs
next book!
AND IN THE END...
PROTECT THE CHILDREN?
ÒA U.N. report estimated that 420,000 children, 5,000 every
month since 1991, have died because of inadequate medical care and
insufficient food supplies. The report also said that one third of all
Iraqi children are malnourished, and many suffer from infections. The
source of many of the illnesses and deaths is poor drinking water.
Sewage treatment plants and electric power plants that keep them
going were bombed during the Gulf War.Ó
- The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, March 13, 1998, on Iraq.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
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copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 352 EMISSION
ÒJust the very fact that a million people have died, itÕs the
greatest disaster since the Mongol invasion of Baghdad in 1258 A.D.
And yet it doesnÕt seem to sink through into the consciousness of the
American people.Ó
- Jim Jennings (The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, March 13, 1998, on
Iraq.)