Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 36
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Love Child
Chapter Fourteen
Mistress took me with a vengeance now, making me have every inch
of her. I burst into tears, wanting to accept her fully and yet nearly
exploding apart in my backside from all the indriving pressure there. At
last, gleefully, squeezing the pouch under her dildo, she spurted hot cream
into me. I did my best not to resist. We would make a Pillsbury doughboy
from it. Our own little baby, hers and mine.
Rutting like cows with steers we finished the course. Five girls, all
from America, raped in the Mexican jungle. Chained, possessed, claimed
by strangers we barely knew. Yet we had been complicitous. We were like
butterflies who flitted about a candle flame, knowing well we might be
burned. And our asses did burn, woefully so, as we limpened in our
captorsÕ grasp and finally fell into complete exhaustion.
Master held himself into Tiffany. He did not want to let go of her,
ever. She shuddered limply against him. Her white body against his sturdy
brown one. Mistress held me firmly, her thing still up me, rigid as ever.
As last, utterly depleted, Master withdrew himself. There was so much
cum up TiffanyÕs hole that it ran out. An aristocrat lady, desperate that
none of MasterÕs seed should be wasted, dashed up to Tiffany. Eagerly she
lapped the overflowing cum from TiffanyÕs legs and bottom.
Epilogue
Tiffany called us together late the following afternoon. We gathered
around her in our bedroom, clutching our bottoms, still so sore. She
smiled at us. I knew what she was thinking. With our own dainty and
vulnerable bodies we had met the Mexicans on the uncompromising field of
love and somehow bested them. The callous Mexican ladies, forced to
watch us fuck ourselves on the cocks, robbing them of their moment of
greatest pleasure. And the hard-hearted aristocrats, denied the more
ruthless rape that the elder grandee would have insisted upon. It was
luck, mostly, I guess, with a little pluck on our part at the very end.
ÒIÕm very proud of you all,Ó Tiffany said to us, herself a little
sheepish. ÒAnd myself, too, I guess. I finally got over my fear of being
taken in the ass.Ó Lightly she spread her bottom cheeks, reflexively. ÒBut
we must go.Ó
ÒYes, we must go,Ó we all agreed, massaging ourselves in behind
even as we pooled our minds to the thought of escape.
And the next day we made good our escape. We got hold of a van,
with the help of a male laborer. He piled pillows into the van, on all the
seats, so we would have comfy chairs for our still-smarting/stinging
asses.
Our clothes had been stolen, down to the last string bikini. Master
feared we might leave after our basement-fucking. He had all our clothes
removed, whether purchased by him or by us. He hid them away where we
could not find them. He allowed us only to wear tennies and t-shirts.
Bare bottomed, we nonetheless boarded the van. We would not be
dissuaded from our escape. Tiffany got in the driverÕs seat and brought
the engine to life. The laborer made sure the coast was clear and we left
the estate, rolling quick as we could across the clipped grass. Our blonde
heads bobbed all too visibly in the vanÕs windows. Our eyes were furtive.
Yet, somehow, we reached the jungle, passed on, sped through the
village, and moved out into the countryside. Tiffany pressed hard on the
gas all the way. The jungle gods must have decided to let us go, I told
myself, for the odds against us successfully fleeing were high. Five
bosomy white girls in t-shirts and sneakers were not a common sight in
rural mexico. Or anywhere else. Especially girls without panties.
Later we found two American hitchhikers along the roadside. More
luck, a gift from well-pleased gods. It was the gods of the Indians, I knew
then, the gods of a race that lived here long before the Spanish arrived.
Yes, they were the true owners of the jungle, not the grandee or his son.
They had accepted our offering in the village square, they had given us rain
then to cool us, loving our bodies, touching them with their wet downpour.
Perhaps they had even seen us in the grandeeÕs basement, down in the
bowels of the jungle, buried in a chamber in the very earth itself. We had
performed well there, giving ourselves up to the hard, indriving cocks.
Mine had been made of rubber from the jungleÕs rubber trees. The gods
themselves had fucked me, not Mistress. With their own implement they
had fucked me.
The hitchhikers got us home. Across the American border, and on to
wherever we needed to be. For Tiffany, it was back to Columbia, back to
Elizabeth. She could give ElizabethÕs passengers every part of herself
now. And I knew Elizabeth would encourage her to, now and then, easing
the guidelines for her most special passengers. Some of the other girls
went with Tiffany, others went back to their suburban homes in AmericaÕs
heartland. Lost little girls suddenly ÒfoundÓ and returned to thankful
parents.
For me, it was back to Argentina. I made a new life there for
myself, working for the Argentinean government once more. It turned out
I still had connections. My English misadventure was passed off as the
best attempt a 15-year-old girl could make. I was even thanked for my
efforts, and given a small medal.
Perhaps someday I will return to America. Perhaps when I have a
child. And I will have a child soon, I hope. Well, not too soon, maybe. But
while IÕm still young. I want to be a young mom, a mom in my 20Õs. You
get along better with your children that way. Yes, I shall have to find a
ÒMr. RightÓ for myself and be a young mom. Someday soon.
The End
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bondage Bliss
Chapter One
Greetings, fellow Christian! Today's lesson is drawn from the
narrative of a diary left by a Sinner. The author is unknown. This is a
virtual how-to manual for Sin, and should be read only by those fully
within the embrace of God. Children, pets, members of the United States
Congress and others known to be easily taken in by Satan must be kept
from what follows. An hour of prayer following each chapter is also
recommended. Now, holy friend, tremble as your journey begins, and keep
Jesus always foremost in your mind:
The party invitation had stated simply that attendees should be
"willing to partake of unusual opportunities." Lisa had little idea what
such mysterious wording portended. This was the last day of finals,
however, and she had been wondering how she might celebrate its passing.
That she would unwittingly replace one ordeal with another never dawned
on her as she set aside the card.
A few hours later, chipper and sprightly in the cool Autumn air, Lisa
crossed the campus for the final time and headed back to her dorm. Now
she would forget English Conjugations and that dastardly Table of
Elements and have some fun! As she walked through swirling multicolored
leaves, listening to the wind rustle the rapidly thinning trees, she
speculated on what to wear. The invitation had made no mention of
clothing, that it would not be allowed never crossed Lisa's mind.
Dusk settled over the hills above Los Angeles as Lisa rang the
doorbell of a stately mansion. Lisa had met the owner of this house on
several prior occasions. She was a young widowed lady, named Elspeth,
whose husband had died suddenly, leaving behind a small but profitable
independent movie company. Their meeting had been quite accidental; in a
lingerie shop on Rodeo Drive where poor little Lisa, on her meager college
stipend, could barely afford to buy a pair of stockings. After some
hesitation she had allowed Elspeth to pick up the tab on a beautiful
negligee, and even accepted a ride home in the woman's limousine by way
of her mansion.
Elspeth's generosity had delighted Lisa but unnerved her as well.
She had half expected the woman to turn out to be a lesbian, and make a
pass at her when they arrived at her secluded home. In fact, however, the
woman had been utterly decorous, and even the hunky boys who did her
lawn had been perfect gentlemen, the latter's restraint causing Lisa to
feel a tinge of dismay. There had been several other girls present, all
about Lisa's age, who worked for Elspeth's film company in various
capacities. One of them answered the door now.
"Hi, Lisa!" Jill exclaimed, inviting the blonde inside. The girl was
dressed casually, in a low cut vest that apparently had no bra beneath and
a very short gold miniskirt with matching heels. Jill also wore a lemon
ribbon in her hair and a matching chiffon scarf. The girls exchanged
compliments on each other's attire and Jill led Lisa into an adjoining
room.
"I'm glad you came early," Jill said to Lisa over her shoulder. "We
can get dressed together."
"Dressed?" Lisa asked. Jill picked up several leather cuffs that had
been lying atop an old trunk.
"Oh, didn't you hear, dear? We're to wear bondage gear," Jill
explained. Lisa took a step backward.
"I-I'm not interested in anything like that," Lisa said. Even as she
spoke a little voice piped up inside her head, reciting her dreams of
becoming a movie starlet. If she refused, she might never be invited back.
She might be doomed to four long years of English Conjugations and the
Table of Elements after all. Lisa had not come to Los Angeles entirely for
a college degree. She had chosen the city in part because she hoped to use
the pretext of college to find work as an actress. Was this how Hollywood
really lived? Movies by day and bondage parties by night?
Elspeth entered the room. She looked stunning in a long black cire
dress that ended at her breasts in an assortment of black straps that left
her cleavage utterly exposed. Her bare breasts jiggled gently, large and
imposing, beautiful and yet threatening in what they portended.
"I've found a part for you, Lisa," Elspeth smiled. "How does leading
lady sound?"
"A-A film?" Lisa stammered. She was being manipulated and she
knew it. She wanted very much to star in a movie, and now the
opportunity was here. But she had also been asked to undress. What
should she do? Turn and run out the door? Surely there was a less
childish alternative than that!
"Come, let us look over the part, to see if it suits you," Elspeth
smiled disarmingly. "Then if you don't wish to stay for my party you can
leave, and come back tomorrow for the start of filming." Elspeth led Lisa
out of the room and down a hall, her long dress flowing elegantly behind
her as Lisa and Jill tagged along beside her.
"I-I want to attend your parties," Lisa began.
"I'm sorry if Jill shocked you, dear," Elspeth said sweetly. "We're so
used to our little fun and games here, we forget sometimes the
reservations a newcomer might have."
The trio entered a room adorned with black and white movie stills
and an occasional poster. All were identified as being from one of
Elspeth's films, or those of her late husband. Beautiful young actresses,
some no older than Lisa, stared out at her, as well as strapping, handsome
young men.
"Amazon Adventure is what I have planned for you," Elspeth said as
she invited Lisa to seat herself in a director's chair. The black robed
woman sorted through a pile of typewritten scripts until she alighted upon
the appropriate one. She sat down next to Lisa and handed her the story.
Her naked breast brushed Lisa's arm.
"I'd actually like you to choose your leading man," Elspeth said. "Jill,
fetch that catalogue of photos over there, would you?" Elspeth's assistant
stood on tiptoe and reached up toward the top of a bookshelf. Her
miniskirt lifted as she bent slightly forward, revealing the lowest
portions of what turned out to be her naked bottom cheeks. Jill took down
a photo album from the bookshelf and handed it over. Elspeth opened the
album and put it in Lisa's lap. A host of brawny young men, many bare
chested, grinned up at Lisa.
"Wh-why should I choose?" Lisa said plaintively.
"Because I want the chemistry to be just right," Elspeth said. "Any
one of these men would do. But since you are going to be the star I want
to find one that you'll work well with."
Jill sat on the arm of a chair next to Lisa and leaned forward. Her
low vest hung down, revealing almost all of her cleavage.
"I like that one!" Jill exclaimed. A young man in a Speedo swim suit
that did little to mask his ample equipment seemed to grin in silent
appreciation as Jill's long nailed fingertip brushed his crotch.
"When you've chosen several men, we'll have you interview them
tomorrow morning," Elspeth said. "Your finals are over now, aren't they?"
"Yes," Lisa said quietly. Her Ego and SuperEgo rebelled as her Id
advocated certain acts with the young men before her that consisted of
more than just talking to them.
"I've already called all the men and told them to be ready to show up
tomorrow for an interview and, if chosen, some preliminary filming as
well," Elspeth explained. "The few who couldn't make it I've pulled from
the book. That's why there are some blank spots here and there."
Reluctantly Lisa began identifying men she felt she could work with,
not to mention sleep with. When she had chosen five Elspeth asked her to
stop.
"What is the plot?" Lisa asked as Elspeth took back the album.
"It's rather like an Indiana Jones film, except this time he meets his
match in a tribe of Amazons, of which you are the leader," Elspeth said
brightly.
"I'm your faithful assistant," Jill said girlishly. "The Vice-Chief of
the Amazons, which I guess means I'm in charge of all the vice."
"How much clothing will I be wearing?" Lisa asked. She had no
intention of starring in a pornographic film.
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Mayfair, Vol. 30, No. 13, $6.99. A Paul Raymond Publication. (ThatÕs
sooo important, I figured I better not forget it!)
Review: There I was at the bookstore, wondering if I could get away
with sitting down at the childrenÕs table and reading somebody a story.
Suddenly, something caught my eye. At first I thought it was the latest
issue of Foreign Affairs. But when I turned to investigate, I found two
luscious blondes holding hands, their bottoms bare, looking right at me.
Imagine that! I decided to investigate.
I opened the magazine. Inside, I found a blonde named Zoe locked
into chains! What could she have done to deserve such treatment? This
required further investigation. (I am, after all, a former member of
Amnesty International. I quit when they declared that Òthere are no
political prisoners in the United States.Ó) Despite much looking, I was not
able to cum up with any good reason why Zoe was made a prisoner in
somebodyÕs bedroom, unless it was simply to arouse me. Well, it worked.
I almost ejaculated five feet from the ChildrenÕs Section! And there was
much else of interest to me in this issue too.
I found a photo of a girl sitting topless on a Space Hopper ball and
bouncing around. It is a real girl, at some real event, and she is stunningly
beautiful. There is a report on a party where girls actually walked around
in nighties, with pacifiers in their mouths, whilst others pranced about in
body harnesses made of leather. They are not as beautiful as the girl on
the Space Hopper ball, but I wouldnÕt mind inspecting their pacifiers for
them.
The girls on the cover share a special lesbian moment in a pictorial
of their very own. They even take to sucking their thumbs in one photo.
This is a trend IÕve noticed, especially in recent issues of PlayboyÕs
Newsstand Specials. I welcome it. I figure, if I canÕt look at girls sucking
their thumbs in the ChildrenÕs Section, I can look at girls in Mayfair
sucking their thumbs. Makes sense, no?
In another pictorial, a blonde girl learns to take off her panties. She
never quite gets her little fuzzy socks off, though. It sort of reminded me
of the girls in the ChildrenÕs Section who canÕt tie their shoelaces. They
canÕt get their shoes on, this girl canÕt get her socks off. ThereÕs not
much difference between bigger girls and littler girls, in my opinion, and
this pictorial proves it.
But the fun doesnÕt stop there. I found a Òfashion pictorial,Ó
featuring two schoolgirl-type models locked into bondage gear. IÕve heard
of swimmers who tie their feet with strips of innertubing so they can
learn to swim with just their arms. Perhaps these girls are tied up for
P.E., and expect to learn to do something with just their pussies.
For our gay readers, I even spotted a cool black-and-white ad in the
back of this issue of two men who look like theyÕve just finished doing
something together thatÕs forbidden by the Holy Bible. It reminded me of
junior high boys in a locker room, who sometimes get into playing with
each other when thereÕs no girls handy. Why somebody put this ad in this
magazine is beyond me, but you never know, some fag might mistake two
girls on the cover for two men, assuming heÕs legally blind or something,
and come across this ad. Not a single sales opportunity must be lost!
Certainly, when it comes to photos of girls who need to be spanked,
Mayfair is the premier magazine. I think it is the Brits who actually
invented spanking and bondage and naughty girls. (Probably during the
Victorian Era!) This issue is pretty close to perfection, in my opinion.
MayfairÕs girls sometimes could be a little prettier. But some of the girls
in this issue are downright perfect, as far as I can tell. (IÕd be open to a
second opinion, in person, if any of you girls in Mayfair think youÕve been
slighted!)
There were only two copies of this issue left on the newsstand. I
bought the second-to-last copy. Usually MayfairÕs sales are a bit slow, as
far as I can tell, but this issue obviously sold very well indeed! Could it
be that AmericaÕs Men are interested in girls sucking their thumbs,
sucking pacifiers, wanting to be chained, and wanting to be whacked?
After all these years of feminism? And, come to think of it, what would
AmericaÕs men buy if publishers were allowed to cater to their REAL
desires, instead of being restricted by Law? I cannot believe that
government-mandated feminism has failed. All those laws, all those
federal and state penitentiaries, all those county jails, and STILL men
have not turned into Alan Alda, subscribing to Home Beautiful and
wondering what their working wives would like for dinner. Tch! Tch!
More work is needed, ladies! Keep posting those hate messages on
alt.sex.stories. Maybe someday weÕll all be lusting after Andrea Dworkin,
but it hasnÕt happened yet! (Naomi Wolf I wouldnÕt mind seeing naked, if
sheÕd lose some weight...)
----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
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-END OF 36 EMISSION