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Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 427
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Twelve
Despite all their sexy movements the girls were denied what they
needed most. A cock. A long thick hard cock driven straight up inside
them. Instead, rubbing themselves on the wedge, they could only dream of
the guards, long gone, replaced by females like themselves. Neither girl
looked in the direction of the Sultan. From his effeminate groans it was
obvious he had himself unzippered and was pleasuring himself. But they
knew his organ was as short as he was, and as unfulfilling almost as the
barren wedge itself.
ÒCome down, girls! Come down!Ó the Sultan urged from the corner of
the room. Kate glanced at him and saw that heÕd relieved himself in his
hand. Althea went running over to the Sultan and knelt before him and
took his hand and licked it clean.
Mistress helped Kate get down from the horse. Susie dismounted
Debbi. Kate found herself barely able to stand. Her cunt was aflame, red
from too much rubbing. Her thighs felt chafed. She prayed that Mistress
would bend down and take off her heels to let her stand barefoot on the
floor, but instead Mistress offered her only a hard slap on her bottom.
ÒStand up straight, girl!Ó Mistress barked. Kate wept openly.
Through her tears she looked down at her breasts. They heaved with her
every shivering sob. She could see hickeys on them where Althea had been
too enthusiastic in her suckling. Her belly was untouched but she
wondered for how long. A single emission of seed would swell her with
some manÕs child; a guardÕs perhaps, or a visitorÕs, or the SultanÕs. She
hadnÕt been given a Pill since sheÕd arrived. She doubted she would be.
She was a doll, to be played with and used and then filled. She would bear
children for the House of Saud. She was a vessel. They would fill her with
their seed. She would give them young. She would nourish their young
with her breasts.
Stumbling, crying like children, yet feeling somehow womanly in her
suffering, Kate was brought along with Debbi over to the Sultan. He
inspected them with his eyes. He seemed to savor the condition of their
breasts. He eyed their soft indrawn tummies avariciously. He smiled with
amusement at how both girls stood before him sobbing, clutching back
behind themselves at their swollen wounded bottoms.
ÒYou girls look like you want to poop!Ó the Sultan laughed. ÒVery
well. YouÕve had your dinner and now itÕs time for you to poop. YouÕll both
Ômake a salad,Õ as we say, in this little room. Fetch the castor oil,
Mistress!Ó He spoke to her as a man does to a wife who is a mother, Kate
thought, calling her Mom.
Mistress produced a large bottle of castor oil out. Kate noticed that
sheÕd fetched it from a table where condoms and oils and perfumes lay, as
if it were just another part of sex, not some awful nasty drink that made
you go to the bathroom. Mistress poured the oil into two shot glasses.
Then she turned the former riders to face each other and gave each a glass.
ÒServe your friend, not yourself. WeÕre intimate here,Ó Mistress told
Kate and Debbi. Reluctantly Kate held out her glass to DebbiÕs lips even as
Debbi reciprocated.
Debbi extended her tongue and licked the rim of the KateÕs glass.
ÒDrink,Ó was all Kate could think to say, and she put the glass to DebbiÕs
lips and forced itÕs contents into her mouth.
ÒGlub, glub, glub,Ó Kate heard Debbi swallow, sounding like a little
child in preschool, even as Kate was made to swallow DebbiÕs drink
herself.
ÒOooooh! ItÕs awful!Ó Debbi cried just as soon as she could. She tore
her mouth from KateÕs empty glass. She twisted her face from side to
side, flinging her lovely curled hair all about her. Kate found herself
compelled to do the same. The Castor Oil had a vile taste and sheÕd just
managed to get it down, fearing the crop still in MistressÕs hand. Both
girls coughed and wheezed and tensed their bottoms, fearing already what
must result.
It was at that moment that the door to the punishment cell opened
and a man entered. He had a woman with him, and another man entered
behind him, also with a woman on his arm. Both men were gallantly
dressed in tuxedos and their females looked smashing, wearing long
dresses patterned with sequins.
Kate felt mortified. She had just resigned herself, mentally, to the
worst; pooping in front of the perverted little Sultan. Now, when she
least wanted to be observed by any men she might like, they appeared,
looking elegant as could be, with women in attendance whom she knew
wouldnÕt be undressing.
ÒOh, this is awful!Ó Debbi blurted. She was standing with her
striped well-punished bottomcheeks huddled together. Nervously she
shifted from foot to foot. She knew at any moment sheÕd feel a sudden
need to have a B/M. There was no toilet in sight, just the floor, polished
wood, and her bare bottom. Men in tuxedoes, men she might have loved if
sheÕd had the chance, stood gazing at her with questing eyes, with
beautifully dressed women beside them.
ÒYou wanted to strip,Ó the Sultan teased Debbi. The man whoÕd sold
her had told him about her. ÒDespite the wishes of your parents, or
perhaps to spite their wishes, you decided to strip in a London bar. All
that money your dear parents spent to send you uniformed every day to an
all-girlÕs high school, and what do you do? You get up naked on a stage and
take off everything, even your panties! Well now youÕre truly stripped, and
striped! And next, to see that you continue your physical education at
least, we are going to have you do squats.Ó
To Debbi and KateÕs horror they were turned so that their bare asses
faced the newly arrived guests. Althea, her own bottom showing, due to
the lifting of her dress, grabbed at KateÕs hands. Althea at least got to
face the guests with her face, but Kate, facing Althea, had to stand with
her bottom to them. It was the same for Debbi. Susie grabbed her hands.
Then, at a command from the Sultan, both Kate and Debbi were required to
bend their knees and squat down.
ÒOh! It hurrrts!Ó Debbi cried as her skin tautened. Her wounded
bottomflesh hardly wished to be stretched further by bending.
ÒDown, then up. Down, then up!Ó Susie commanded Debbi. The poor
little blonde was forced to stoop, showing her cuntlips between splayed
thighs, then loft her ass up again, straightening her legs. Then it was
down again, Kate beside her doing the same.
ÒOh please it hurts and IÕm going to POOP!Ó Kate begged. She felt
like a small child being potty trained, except she was being trained in
reverse, with the floor as her potty now.
ÒThey are so young. Would the king approve?Ó a woman asked the
Sultan. She seemed jealous, or offended at the sexuality of such young
female slaves.
ÒIt matters not what the king thinks when it is happening in my
palace!Ó the Sultan answered. In deference to his guests heÕd zipped
himself up again. He strode back behind Kate and Debbi and inspected their
bottoms with lurid interest. ÒOne girl will give us her American shit, the
other girl her nice English shit,Ó he laughed. ÒBut really, I expect them
both to exercise bottom-control. They should not shit on the floor, should
they, mistress?Ó
ÒBathroom time will be at the end of exercise, not in the middle of
it,Ó mistress said with a glowering, knowing smile.
ÒOh, I can feel it coming!!Ó Debbi shouted.
ÒWhat, youÕre yelling something about your bowels?Ó mistress asked
with fake indignity.
ÒOh, I can too! I canÕt stop ittt!Ó Kate yelped.
Suddenly, as if giving birth to twin little babies, both Kate and Debbi
began oozing big turds from their backside.
ÒMy, theyÕre through digesting their dinner already,Ó the Sultan said.
SPLAT! SPLAT!
ÒTwo turds for Judge Bork,Ó the Sultan crowed. He bent and sniffed
at them, and Kate and Debbi, urged to stand and then to squat again, gave
him two more. A sudden gush of fluid followed.
ÒSuch a mess. TheyÕll have to clean it,Ó the Sultan said. ÒGet a
bucket and brushes for them, mistress. IÕll not have poop on my floor!Ó
Althea let go of one of KateÕs hands when Kate had stood up again.
She passed it through the long, still lovely locks of KateÕs golden-blonde
hair.
ÒAre you finished?Ó Althea asked Kate.
ÒI-I think so,Ó Kate replied. ÒAlthough IÕm not really in control
anymore.Ó Swiftly, to keep from splattering her thighs, she suddenly
squatted down again, without any encouragement from Althea. She gritted
her teeth at the pain of the stretched crop marks on her bottom. Then she
passed out yet another turd. After waiting a moment, she rose again.
Althea bent forward and kissed her lips.
VIDEO REVIEW
by holy joe
Story of O, in 10 volumes. $249.00. VHS, Full Color, 60 minutes per tape.
Spice Catalog, P.O. Box 4349, Itasca, IL 60143-4349. Phone toll free: 1-
800-843-1499.
Review: I canÕt masturbate to this! ItÕs totally stupid! Well, not
totally. But it is pretty stupid, and as a result I have experienced no
orgasms watching it.
How did I get into this mess? How did I manage to waste $249.00?
Well, let me tell you. It all started with a woman. Her name is Pauline
Reage, and she wrote a book in the 1950Õs called The Story of O. It is
considered the most famous sex story of all time. In the 1970Õs, it was
made into a feature film. Now, some idiot has re-made The Story of O. He
(or she!) has turned it into a 10 hour television series.
So, I have 10 hours of bondage to jack off to. What am I complaining
about?
First of all, O is too old. SheÕs supposed to be a young girl. (Okay,
okay, a young woman! Whatever. Anyway, this T.V. O looks like a
housewife. Admittedly the Film O wasnÕt anything great, but she was
definitely younger and prettier than this bitch! The T.V. O has tits which
are too small. Her body is unappealing. Consider this: Do you go to the
beach to have sex fantasies looking at the housewives and mothers? I
doubt it. But, if you do, thatÕs what you have in this film. A housewife, in
bondage. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz........
So, you are probably thinking, ÒWhat about the other girls in the T.V.
show?Ó (Okay, okay, I mean, women!) The women in the T.V. show are
boring. They look like ladies used to look in bondage catalogs, before the
producers of those catalogs could afford attractive models.
As for the men, theyÕre stupid-looking. OÕs lover looks like some
Nazi left over from ÒRat PatrolÓ. Another wonder of bondage fantasy
looks like a fat biker dude. So if youÕve dreamed of being dominated by
overweight bikers and third-rate actors who speak poor English, youÕll
love this T.V. show. Otherwise, not.
The acting in this T.V. show is terrible. The actors are utterly
unconvincing. They look like theyÕre reading their lines, and probably are.
Another problem is the film-making. ItÕs uninspired. The only
decent ÒartÓ scene was at the beginning, where O is travelling in a car,
past some trees. But that scene was borrowed directly from the 1970Õs
movie!
Perhaps the most ridiculous aspect of this T.V. show are the various
ÒinnovationsÓ inserted by the director. He has women posing in red
plastic bondage gear in the castle where O is kept as a sex slave. How
silly it is to see unattractive women kneeling in crappy bondage gear, as O
is led past them.
Still another problem with this T.V. show is that, often, O does not
resemble the vulnerable sex toy sheÕs supposed to be. For instance, we
see O completely naked, except for leather wristlets and anklets.
Normally, this would convey an image of total enslavement. But O looks
like Wonder Woman! She strides purposefully through the castle, where
sheÕs supposedly a slave, as if to go fight crime! I expected her to unfurl a
magic lasso and rope all the stupid men who supposedly had enslaved her.
On the positive side, there is a whipping in every hour! Not a single
tape in this 10 volume series is without a whipping. O is always having
things done to her: whipped, sodomized, branded, etc. So you do at least
get good action on every tape. But except for this one factor, I really canÕt
recommend the T.V. version of the Story of O. ThereÕs just no art in it.
ItÕs strictly Òby the numbersÓ: bad actors, bad acting, bad film-making.
Just what youÕd expect from a television show.
CoOpBop
by Will Dockery
I stood on the stage,
there are no words.
The music surrounded me,
I have nothing left to say.
All I could speak of,
was sailing away,
putting it all away.
They surround me,
they played music.
I looked into their eyes,
do they,
do they hold the magic.
All I can see is darkness,
there are no words.
Nothing but this joke,
I stood on the stage.
These words are nothing,
I am nothing.
Nothing here, nothing nothing.
No thing.
The source of laughter,
further down.
All I could speak of,
is this wish to fade away.
-Will Dockery
AND IN THE END...
DOWN WITH PEDOPHILES !
ÒThis nation still has a profound commitment to scapegoating...
We do it with immigrants, we do it with gay and lesbians, we do it with
anybody who is different.Ó
- Willie Brown, Mayor of San Francisco.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Back issues (and stories): http://www.deja.com/
Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net
DonÕt forget to click on ÒPower SearchÓ.
Change ÒstandardÓ archive to ÒcompleteÓ archive.
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
Web: http://www.eroticstories.com
Web: http://www.insatiable.net/
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1999 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. CoOpBop is
copyright 1999 by Will Dockery.
-END OF 427 EMISSION
Brown: Charlie Rose, June 2, 1999.