AmericaÕs Space Program Comes Down to Earth...
PERMANENT PERIGEE
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Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 72
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Desire Isle
Chapter Twelve
"Rob, why didn't you tell us you were going to come?" Melanie pouted.
Rob reached out and patted the sticky semen that lay in the locks of her
hair.
"I probably just need another spanking to get hard again," Rob joked.
But the girls took him seriously.
"Yes! Another spanking!" Candy squealed happily.
"No girls," Rob said, backing off. With some effort he kept back the
girls, who bounded up from their benches and made for him like Amazons.
After a brief tussle Rob was once again in control, the girls panting, a
light film of sweat now coating their bodies. Rob's shorts were at his
knees, but he had managed to fend the females off.
"I want one more drink before I jump," Candy announced. She walked
over to a little fridge and opened it. Several prepared drinks were already
there. Candy took one out which was adorned with a tiny plastic parasol.
From a miniature straw she stood sipping the drink. The other girls each
padded over and took drinks for themselves. Rob protested, saying the
girls might get drunk.
"From the looks of that place, I want to be drunk," Melanie said,
glancing at the castle-topped island.
"Well, I don't want you swimming drunk," Rob said, and urged the
girls' drinks one by one from their hands.
"Come on, girls, into the water!" Sherry said, standing up abruptly.
She seemed to have grown weary of the girls' little hesitations. Rob took
Veronica's hand and held it as Veronica stepped up onto the bench
whereupon she had earlier sat. Melanie and Candy were each helped up in
turn.
"Um, shouldn't we have life preservers or something?" Candy asked,
gazing at the deep blue swells of the ocean.
"In!" Sherry cried. Drink in one hand, she threw the other against
Candy's bottom and toppled the girl into the waves.
"Ack! I can't swim!" Veronica cried as Rob pushed her in, but swam
quite nicely as soon as her head resurfaced above the water. Melanie,
seeing her time was up aboard the boat, dove in head first before anyone
could push her.
"Come back!" Candy cried to the sailboat. Immediately it began
pulling away from the girls. With each passing second it receded, cutting
across the sea, leaving the girls to fend for themselves.
Melanie turned about, and saw a speedboat heading toward them from
the island. At once all three girls turned and, bottoms wiggling, legs
kicking, they made for the speedboat. When the boat drew near, however,
it turned out to be manned not by some hunky male lifeguard, but a young
woman.
"Can we have a lift?" Melanie asked in a tentative voice of the
female boatswain.
"Come on! I've done it a hundred times!" the female called back. Like
the girls, she was topless. Because of the arching sides of the boat the
girls couldn't see her lower half. Her large breasts jiggled with her every
move. Atop her head she wore a captain's cap. "Enjoy yourselves!" the
boatswain called. "It's a lovely day for swimming!"
The girls seemed somewhat relieved by the presence and demeanor
of the boatswain. The girl was nice, yet firm. She puttered about them as
they swam but seemed well trained in the difference between a real
drowning and one that was simply being faked for the benefit of a free
ride. "I didn't need to come out," the girl said. "So don't hassle me about
it. I just came because you looked like sweet girls and I wanted you to
feel as comfortable as possible. But I'm not picking you up, so don't ask.
Unless you're really drowning, of course."
With this the girls gave up on trying to hitch a ride and began to
actually enjoy their swim. The sea was warm, the swells mild. In the
distance a beach beckoned, the ocean gently lapping at its sandy shore.
Across the sunlit waves the girls swam now, with slow, easy strokes.
Their arms did the breaststroke, while their feet seemed to like a
freestyle kick best. Their heads bobbed along above the water. Their
bottoms, temptingly, were washed continually by the rippling sea as they
bobbed along half-in, half-out of the water.
On the far side of the island the sailboat pulled up to a small wooden
pier. Sherry's jacket-like top was open now. Her bare breasts shook as
she cast a rope to a man standing on the pier. "Hiya Martin!" Sherry called.
"You never stop having fun, do you?" Martin replied, catching the
rope. He gave a meaningful look at Sherry's breasts. They glistened with
saliva.
"Not if I can help it!" Sherry replied.
A few minutes later Sherry, Diane, Brent and Rob disembarked. Rob
was carrying a satchel. "Lady Burgess told me to tell you to take the
Jasmine Room," Martin said to the foursome. "There's a nice big bed in
there. I'm sure you'll all fit on it quite nicely." To Rob he said, "You need
to see Mr. Savin first, of course."
"Of course," Rob said.
"Do you have the money?" Martin asked.
"Always," Rob replied. He hefted the satchel. "You think I'd bring my
work with me?"
Rob's feet made resounding echoes in the stone hall as he approached
the office in the castle marked with the sign, Mr. Savin. Lady Burgess
accompanied him. She knocked on Mr. Savin's door for him, and, when
permission was heard from inside, opened it. A tall man stood stooped at
a winnock, his behind presented to his new guests, his head peering out
the window. Tied over his desk was a young woman with a luxurious
blonde mane. Unlike her host, who was clothed in business attire, she was
totally naked. She turned her face toward him and Rob saw that it was
streaked with tears. The young woman's bottom was very red.
"Ah yes," the man at the window said. He stood erect and turned to
face his new guests. In his hands was a pair of binoculars. "Not as good a
view from here as the tower, but Mortimer is taping the view from the
tower, in high definition no less."
"That should make interesting viewing, if you like watching a couple
of teenage girls swim," Lady Burgess said in an unfriendly tone.
"I should put you over my desk here," Mr. Savin said. "But I wouldn't
take any pleasure in seeing your bottom walloped."
"But I certainly take pleasure in seeing Gwendolyn's bottom
smacked," Lady Burgess said. "You seem to have done quite a good job on
her."
"Yes, but we're only just getting underway," Mr. Savin replied. "Stay
and masturbate yourself if you like, Lady Burgess."
"I have other matters to attend to," Lady Burgess said stiffly. She
turned and walked from the room. She closed the door behind her and her
footsteps could be heard as she retreated down the stone hallway.
"Kimberly," Mr. Savin muttered.
"What's that, sir?" Rob asked.
"She's thinks she's got Kimberly locked away for her private
pleasure. A girl I had delivered last night. Vivacious girl, actually loved
the swim to the island. I liked her so much I put her up for the night and
didn't let anyone breathe a word to her. Lady Burgess had David change the
lock on Kimberly's room in the middle of the night, thinking to keep the
girl all to herself, thinking I had no interest in her. But David, good man
that he is, carried Kimberly to a new room and then changed the lock in the
old room. Kimberly didn't even care that she had been carried to a new
room in her sleep. Such a wonderful girl! I've let her run around naked all
morning in the rec room. Absolutely loves the video games I've got down
there. Lady Burgess, of course, has been haughty all day, thinking she's got
a pet of her very own locked away. She had to go in to the mainland early
this morning, just got back before you pulled in. I imagine Lady Burgess
will be storming back in here in a moment. But Kimberly, she's joined our
new heroines out in the ocean." Mr. Savin indicated the window. Rob bent
slightly, peered out.
"Oh yes, four girls swimming out there now," Rob commented.
"How much did they cost me, by the way?" Mr. Savin asked Rob.
"Around 60,000, including expenses, and our fee, of course." Rob said.
He lay his satchel on Mr. Savin's desk, inches from Gwen's face. "Of
course, I've got the three million here, from our latest drug deals. The
enhanced crack is selling quite well." Rob opened the satchel and dumped
the money unceremoniously on the desk. The stacks of bills tumbled about
Gwen's head.
"Mmm," Mr. Savin said, bending forward to give the heaps of bills a
cursory inspection. "Horrible stuff, that crack. Don't know why anyone
would take it. But it does sell..." Then his eyes met Gwen's. She was
looking up at him plaintively, her nose inhaling the scent of money with
every intake of her breath.
Mr. Savin laughed. "Do you still like the smell of money, Gwen?" Mr.
Savin asked. "Perhaps it's not so sweet now, is it?" A new tear trickled
down Gwen's face.
"Lovely girl," Rob commented. "Who is she?"
"A young madam," Mr. Savin said. "I made her acquaintance and
purchased her services. Little Melanie out there."
"One of the girls swimming to shore?" Rob asked.
"Yes, one of the girls out there, right now," Mr. Savin said. "Melanie,
the blonde. Such a beautiful girl. I couldn't bear to have her only once.
And Gwen here, she fancies herself a sadist, but really she's a pretty
little masochist. Aren't you, Gwen?" Mr. Savin asked. Gwen bit her lower
lip but said nothing. "We're going for some bruising today, something for
Gwen to show to her friends," Mr. Savin said. "And now, if you'll excuse us,
Rob. I mustn't keep Gwen's bottom waiting any longer."
"Of course, sir," Rob said. Politely he turned away and let himself
out of Mr. Savin's office. As he closed the door behind him he heard a
swift crack of leather, followed by a scream.
"This is a swell place!" Kimberly said, swimming next to her
stepsister amidst the waves.
"Well, you shouldn't be here," Melanie admonished. "Even though I am
glad to see you."
"Oh, do you think I'm not old enough?" Kimberly asked, insulted.
"I know you're not old enough," Melanie retorted.
"Oh, don't worry about her," Veronica said to Melanie. "I for one am
very glad she was brought out here to meet us and swim in with us." A
second speedboat now trolled the water near the girls, manned by a female
boatswain. Kimberly had jumped from the second speedboat to join her
sister, naked as the day she was born. "If all this place has is a cellar full
of video games, we've nothing to worry about," Veronica continued. "This
place could even be fun!"
"Well, the swim was fun!" Melanie said. "Despite the fact that I'm
totally naked in front of people in some castle I've never had the pleasure
of meeting." She felt her toes touch bottom. They were at the beach now,
only yards from the shore. One by one the girls found the sandy bottom
with their feet. Together they emerged from the sea, like modern day
Venuses. Soon all four were standing on the beach. Both speedboats
grounded themselves on the sand nearby. The boatswains jumped out and
lashed their small craft to rocks that apparently had been placed there for
just such a purpose. The rocks were carved in the shape of penises, whose
flanged heads would keep any rope in place.
"What happens now?" Melanie asked.
"Come! I'll show you around the place!" Kimberly offered, but just as
the words left her mouth a woman dressed in a black gown emerged from a
jungle path. The woman's skin was white. A smile creased her features.
"Tsk! Tsk! You girls look temptingly immodest," the woman said. A man,
walking beside her, carried four brown garments, neatly folded.
"David!" Melanie cried. The man smiled but said nothing.
"Yes, David is here!" Kimberly gushed.
"Is-is Gwen here?" Melanie asked.
"I haven't seen her," Kimberly said.
David handed the chestnut garments one by one to the woman in
black, who, walking behind each girl, helped her into one of them. When all
four girls had been attired they looked at each other. Each was cloaked in
a hooded monk's robe. Curiously, however, the robes only extended to
about the small of each girl's back. A third of the way down their
bottoms, actually. Everything beneath was naked. The girls were of
different heights, yet each wore a robe that extended to the same place on
her bottom. Obviously, their measurements were known to someone on the
island. Melanie remembered Renoir measuring she and Candy.
Despite being clothed, or semi-clothed, the girls were still wet
from the sea. Pearls of seawater gleamed upon their bottoms. For the
first time Melanie noticed that a riding crop was stuck through the sash of
the dress of the woman in black.
"I am your Governess," the white woman said. "Do you know what you
will be doing here?"
"Well, I'm sure we must obey ourselves," Melanie replied meekly,
glancing at the Governess' riding crop out of the corner of her eye. The
Governess laughed.
"Indeed, and I shall ensure that you will," the Governess said. "But
you look like perfect little angels to me, are you not?"
"Yes indeed, ma'am," Kimberly said, nodding her head vigorously.
Obviously the presence of the riding crop had not been lost even on
Kimberly, muting her normally rambunctious nature.
"Will we be doing some riding?" Veronica asked. The Governess
smiled, and just then two more men came through the bush, leading four
white stallions. The girls gasped. None of the stallions wore any
harnessing equipment. But a square of soft blue velvet was draped over
each horses' back. The men helped each of the girls onto the horses by
bending down and cupping their strong hands as a sort of step. A good push
on the girl's bottom helped in the mounting too. Kimberly, who due to her
age was shorter, had trouble clamboring up on a stallion. A swift crack
from the Governess' riding crop on her heinie seemed to provide the
necessary impetus, however.
"Oww!" Kimberly protested, hands flying to her bottom as soon as
she had got atop the horse. "That wasn't nice!"
"But it was quite effective, wasn't it?" the Governess replied.
"If I need help like that I'll ask for it!" Kimberly squawked.
"You needn't, I already know," the Governess replied. "I can tell just
by looking at you that you are just like I was as a teen. Impulsive,
demanding, but not always knowing what's best. We'll make good friends,
you and I." This seemed to placate Kimberly, who's eyes seemed to shine
with a newfound respect for the woman. Kimberly's naked breasts
quivered as she continued rubbing her bottom, but she said no more.
When Melanie's crotch came to rest upon the velvet, a shiver ran
through her. There was no place to put her feet. They hung down on either
side of the horse, leaving gravity to cause her little clitty to press most
firmly upon the soft cloth. Melanie's horse took a step forward. The
resultant jostling caused Melanie to emit a sweet, involuntary little sigh.
"What's his name?" Candy asked a man of her horse. She bent
forward and stroked the horses' silken mane.
"Beefcake," the man replied. Candy smiled.
"What's mine called?" Kimberly asked. Both her hands were still at
her bottom, rubbing absently, assuaging a pain that was by now mostly
just in her mind.
"Defiant," the Governess replied. "I think that might be the perfect
name for your horse, hmmm?" Kimberly pouted.
"Did our friends arrive at the island?," Melanie asked the governess.
"Yes, they're up at the castle already," the Governess said, and began
walking forward. With that David and the two men began leading the
horses off the beach with their new riders.
Candy smiled over at Melanie. She too was now feeling the effects
of the sumptuous velvet between her thighs. Melanie bit her lip,
suppressed another moan.
"Mmmm, this feels...strange..." Kimberly observed, and Candy had to
let out a laugh. Veronica flushed slightly, her motherly breasts bouncing
like ripe papayas. Kimberly's breasts, not fully grown yet, jiggled tautly.
They resembled over-sized tennis balls. Melanie looked down at her own
nicely-sized breasts. Her nipples were hard, jutting points of unrequited
passion.
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Stories in Shadows, 50¢. Digest. Joe Eibe, 650 Pacific Ave., Willows,
CA 95988.
Review: This is a standard Òhigh schoolÓ effort at making a
comic book. It is a collection of three stories, about superheroes. The
unique feature of this comic is that it is narrated by each characterÕs
own internal dialogue (like in The Dark Knight, by Frank Miller). I found
the internal dialogue to be fairly interesting, although laden at times
with grammatical imperfections.
The first story is narrated by a reluctant superhero, the second by
a ninja girl, and the third by a girl who is enslaved to a superhero. If
youÕre looking for a new friend who makes and enjoys superhero
comics, write to Joe (Eibe, that is).
AMERICA MUST BE MORE LIKE JAPAN
by management theorist joe
ÒJapanese men have a penchant for young girls; a few young girls
will do almost anything for a Gucci bag or a Chanel jacket. The Japanese
press is awash with stories about terekura, or telephone clubs, in which
men sit in phone booths and talk to teenage girls about the sort of things
that would make most mothers blush. Some go much further.Ó - The
Economist, June 8th, 1996, pg. 66
AND IN THE END...
ÒMr. Clinton is edging towards a decidedly Japanese vision of
government.Ó - The Economist, June 8, 1996, pg. 34
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