CALENDAR GIRLS
by
Joe Doe
JUDGE ASHLEY'S WOMEN'S LEADERSHIP COUNCIL CREATES A "POWER PARADE"
CALENDAR TO COUNTER THE SEXIST IMAGES IN TYPICAL PINUP CALENDARS.
BUT, UNFORTUNATELY FOR ASHLEY, THIS IS A STORY BY JOE DOE.
Part 1
It took Judge Ashley only a few seconds to respond to the frantic
pounding on her chamber doors.
"Ashley, it's a disaster!" the young woman screamed. "They've got
them down at the Mall. And they're selling like hotcakes!"
"Calm down, Natalie," Judge Ashley said. "What's selling like
hotcakes?"
"Our calendar!" Natalie wailed. "They're selling our calendar!
And every guy in town is buying one!"
"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Ashley asked. "Puzzling,
perhaps, but good. That WAS the idea, wasn't it? People
support the Women's Leadership Council by buying our calendar."
"You don't understand!" Natalie shouted. "It isn't the calendar
we signed the release for! I mean...the cover is the same, but
the months sure aren't!"
Natalie reached into her bag and handed Ashley the calendar. It
was Judge Ashley, after all, who had turned the women's mid-winter
gripe session about the upcoming "Sports Illustrated" swim suit
issue and "piggy men" in general into something positive: a
calendar that portrayed young, attractive professional women in
a positive light.
Ashley had written a stirring but anonymous editorial in the paper,
suggesting that every woman in town had a duty and a right to
replace "sexist and offensive" calendars with the WLC calendars.
"Don't burn your brassieres, ladies. Burn the Britneys and
Christinas, the Playmates and the Hustler Honeys. Replace
the bimbos of the bar rooms with women our sons and daughters
will grow to respect."
After the editorial, calendar sales did increase. Of course,
there were also a number misdemeanors involving women destroying
their husbands', neighbors', or co-workers' pin-up calendars and
replacing them with the more politically correct versions.
Judge Ashley made sure these cases, be they criminal or civil,
were always routed to her. Was it really surprising that, no
matter how much evidence was presented, the women were never
convicted? And the plaintiffs were forced to pay for the
replacement calendars?
The sales to date had paid a tidy profit, since that sleazy
photographer whom Ashley had forced into the assignment as part
of his "community service" sentence had done the photographs for
free. The $12.95 calendars cost less than $2 to print. Ashley
also quickly let it be known that the male lawyers seeking justice
in HER court would do well to buy a few dozen. The feckless
male-dominated law firms soon had more calendars than law books,
but Ashley was always willing to buy some back...for 99 cents each.
Go, girls, go!
Although the idea of forcing the town's most sexist men to support
her leadership council amused her, the true value of the calendar
was its positive portrayal of women.
Ashley smiled as she looked at the calendar's front picture: the
12 starring members of the leadership council in their power
suits, posed smiling and confident on the steps of City Hall.
Go, girls, go!
But Ashley frowned when she saw the calendar's title. The title
should have read:
Woman's Leadership Council
Power Parade!
But instead it read:
Woman's Leadership Council
Pussy Parade!
Ashley quickly opened the cover. Worse news here.
The picture showed a view of the WLC's vice president, Dr. Barbara
Williams. Her arms were above her head, and she was jumping in
the air. She was wearing an over-the-shoulder ribbon that read
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Except for the ribbon, a rather stupid-looking white baby bonnet,
and a skimpy diaper with a bright yellow stain in front, Dr.
Barbara was as naked as the day she was born.
Below her picture was the name:
Barbara Williams, MD
Chief of Surgery
That was printed in the classic font Ashley had selected herself.
But a humorous verse had been added:
Please don't laugh,
Please don't leer.
She's not a bimbo,
She's Baby New Year!
Her medical skills
May be quite uncanny,
But she still needs a man
To powder her fanny!
There was a smaller "decorative" picture on the bottom half of
the January page, below the actual dates. It showed Dr. Barbara,
shaved naked as a newborn, sitting on a changing table with her
legs widely spread. She still had on her bonnet and sash, but
she was holding her diaper up with her left hand so that the wet
yellow spot was clearly visible. She was apparently sucking her
thumb. The caption read:
CAN YOU CHANGE MY DIAP-PEE?
"How on earth...?" Ashley moaned. "Why did Barbara ever pose for
such a thing?"
"She didn't!" Natalie frantically explained. "All of the other
women I was able to call had the same story as Barbara. After
the regular photos were shot, that sleazy photographer offered
the women something to drink. Heck, all Paula had was a glass of
water. But none of them can quite remember what happened after
that, only that they all woke up somewhere other than the studio."
Ashley swallowed. She herself had awakened on the bench in front
of the courthouse. At the time, she had written it off to the
combination of her overloaded schedule and the tasty wine she had
drunk during the photo session. But now she suspected something
far more sinister.
******************************
She turned the page to February. Although it showed the town's
favorite female news anchor, Paula Evans, the news was no better.
Paula appeared to be standing on the sidelines of a Mardi Gras
parade. She was surrounded by a group of men in Mardi Gras
t-shirts, but, since the men were much taller than her, her face
was visible, but the men's faces were not. She was laughing and
grinning like a drunken idiot, and around her neck were row after
row of colorful beads.
The men were wearing gold and purple t-shirts that said "Happy
Mardi Gras," "I Love New Orleans," and "King of Mardi Gras."
Ashley couldn't quite make out what was on Paula's t-shirt,
largely because she was holding it up to expose her exquisite
breasts.
The caption said it all:
Her job as an anchor
Needs cunning and wits.
But give her some beads,
And she'll show you her tits!
In the "decorative" picture below the main shot, Paula's shirt
was down. However, she was holding up her short green skirt
and grinning suggestively at the camera. The caption read, "2
minutes in the alley for 30 cents' worth of beads!"
Ashley grimaced as she imagined poor Paula stuttering out tonight's
news, while her grinning buffoon of a co-anchor leered suggestively
at her.
******************************
Ashley tried to forget Paula's humiliation as she turned the page.
March showed the town's leading activist attorney (and Ashley's
rival), Brittany Kelly:
Brittany's a lawyer
Both skillful and wise.
She fights the good fight
For all little guys!
Peasant or President,
Young man or old,
She always leads clients
To her pot of gold!
The poem itself wouldn't have been so bad without the humiliating
picture. Brittany was naked, save for a green St. Patrick's Day
paper hat on her head. Her hands were steadying her hat, and her
nipples were hard and exposed.
In front of her was a midget, dressed as a leprechaun. Although
you couldn't see his face, you could see his pudgy midget fingers
were sticking directly into Brittany's "pot of gold."
The picture below showed her squatting over an actual pot, while
the laughing leprechaun (his face partially obscured) held her
on what appeared to be a green leash and collar. Although the
picture was small, it was clear from the yellow stream that
Brittany was relieving herself into the pot!
The caption read, "Our feisty little leprechaun's newest bitch
fills her pot with her golden stream! Happy St. Patty's Day,
Brittany!"
Brittany had always been proud of her Irish heritage, and, despite
herself, Ashley had to smile at her bitter rival's humiliation.
Ashley was looking forward to drawing shamrocks on all the briefs
Brittany submitted to her court in the future. And, if Ashley
should happen to start munching on a box of Lucky Charms during
Brittany's summation, that would be her right as the judge.
******************************
April showed Marsha Dane, head of the town's biggest software
company, standing naked in a large garden. The picture showed
Marsha in an awkward position, with one knee bent and hands
raised defensively, laughing as a group of fraternity boys
washed her down with garden hoses.
The boy's faces were skillfully obscured by the camera angles,
but everything Marsha possessed was plainly visible, even
through the water.
There was a couplet:
April Showers!
She's got no POWER!
The smaller photo showed Marsha down on her knees like a dog,
obediently lapping water from the hose while the smiling men
looked down on her.
******************************
The month of May showed Monica Wells, the leader of the Woman's
Caucus in the City Council, on her knees in front of a large
wooden desk. The slightly portly Ms. Wells was wearing an absurd
amount of rouge and a black Monica Lewinsky style wig. This
hairstyle was wholly appropriate since, in the photo, her brightly
painted red lips were locked around the stiff penis of the faceless
man seated in the enormous leather chair.
On her lapel was a button that read, "I swallowed for Bill." On
the wall behind her was a "Vote for Arnold" poster.
Monica's "skills"
Let her "shoot" to the top!
Like a good girl,
She drinks every drop!
The smaller decorative photo seemed to disprove the claim, as
it depicted a smiling Monica with a large load of cum plastered
across her lower face. The title of the photo was "Got sperm?"
******************************
The June page depicted Patricia, Candace, and Deirdre -- the three
founders of the First Feminist Bank. That bank had made a fortune
financing female entrepreneurs, and the original photo had shown
the three civic leaders in their power suits standing in front of
a lakeside development they had backed.
In the new photo, the women were still in front of the lake, but
they were naked and their hands were cuffed behind their backs.
Candy and Dee-Dee were watching with horror as their leader,
Tricia, wiggled helplessly over the knee of a police officer,
who was spanking her bare bottom.
The officer's back was towards the camera, and his face was
invisible. But Tricia's tearful grimace and fire-red fanny
more than made up for that.
Our staid City Council,
Skinny dipping did ban!
So now the nice Sheriff
Helps with their tan!
The smaller photo showed Tricia doing "corner time," while the
lovely Dee-Dee suffered her turn over the strict officer's knee.
The obviously nervous Candy awaited her turn.
******************************
Ashley grimaced in anger. The photos were clearly designed to
embarrass and humiliate the women. But the attack was far more
insidious than that. Each of the photos mocked the subject's
career or intellect -- or both.
She could imagine the (male) public's reaction:
"Sure, Paula may act like a sophisticated journalist.
But give her some dime store beads, and she'll show
you her tits!"
"And that do-gooder lawyer, Brittany, who takes all
that pro-bono work? I bet her scummy clients are
pro-boning her!"
"Obviously Councilwoman Monica exchanged blow jobs
for influence, just like Lewinsky. That's how all
women rise in politics!"
And now they can also snicker over the three most powerful women
in the financial community being reduced to the status of naughty
little girls spanked for running around in their birthday suits,
Ashley fumed.
She was furious. It wasn't bad enough that the women were naked.
The photos were clearly designed to strip them of every shred of
human dignity.
Degradation on this scale took money and time and, above all,
planning. Ashley couldn't believe that the little eunuch of a
pornographer, who had practically wet himself in front of her
bench, had set this entire thing up.
She turned over the calendar and looked for clues. The original
calendar had been sponsored by the "Woman's Press" and paid for
by generous donations from the First Feminist Bank.
But this calendar was sponsored by "Hawthorn Enterprises," which
was the vanity press that turned out the sexist screeds of her
rival, Judge Hawthorn. No wonder Judge Hawthorn had stood by
while Ashley used her judicial power to promote her calendar
project. Doubtless, her rival jurist was greatly amused that
Judge Ashley had established that "replacing" calendars was a
form of "protected political speech."
Ashley shuddered as she imagined her politically correct feminist
calendar being replaced by the shameful shenanigans of the Judge
Hawthorn version. If Natalie was right, the "new and improved"
version was selling like hotcakes. Soon it would be everywhere....
******************************
Part 2
The original version of the July picture showed Navy doctor Debra
Smith and Army pilot Amy Jakes posed in dress uniforms in front of
a large American flag.
In the new version, the women are still in front of the flag, but,
except for their military caps, they were entirely naked. And
they were on all fours, with their backsides facing the camera.
Their legs were spread obscenely wide, and their privates were
private no longer.
In the original photo, the women had dignified smiles. But now
they were looking over their shoulders at the camera with enormous,
idiotic bimbo grins on their faces.
Women as officers?
Don't fall for that line!
Let girls serve their country
One man at a time!
The smaller photo showed the two women still naked and on all
fours, but facing each other, with their tongues touching.
Each kneeling woman was being fucked by an enlisted man whose
face was cropped off by the top of the picture. Although the
men's faces weren't visible, their ranks were. As a final
indignity that would doubtlessly cause much amusement in the
ranks, the Army officer was being fucked by a buck private,
and the Navy officer was by a lowly swabbie.
******************************
Ashley turned the page to the next month, August. Cotton heiress
Melody Dix had insisted on flying the photographer down to her
family's plantation, "Lily White," for her calendar photo shoot.
The shot of her coming down the mansion's great, spiral main
staircase in her antebellum emerald gown had been stunning.
The new photo took place in the same rotunda, but the scene was
decidedly different. It appeared to be a slave auction, with all
of the men in elegant suits, and all of the women in lovely gowns.
All of the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen had their faces turned
away from the camera and towards the wooden platform that had been
set up in the center of the room as the auction block.
The tall hats and colorful jackets seemed totally authentic. It
could have been a scene straight out of "Gone with the Wind,"
except for one minor detail. The auctioneer and all the elegantly
dressed men and women were black. Indeed, everyone in the photo
was black and stylishly dressed -- except for the woman on the
block.
Melody was white. She was not elegantly dressed. Indeed, she was
not dressed at all.
Melody was butt naked.
She was on her knees facing the crowd with her legs widely splayed.
Her hands were locked into the beautiful black curls on top of her
head. The auctioneer's whip held her chin aloft, and Ashley could
clearly see the tears running out of her beautiful eyes.
The ghosts of injustice
Don't fade over time.
Inherit the mansion,
And inherit the crime!
Get the whip! Strip her naked!
Seize her frillies and frocks!
She don't look so sassy,
Now that SHE'S on the block!
Poor tearful wench,
The first auction's so hard!
But at least her first sale
Ain't out in the yard!
Ashley's stomach tightened as she read the last line. Not only
were they mocking the gracious Southern heritage that Melody was
so insanely proud of, but they were ridiculing her tears during
her humiliating public auction!
The smaller photograph on the calendar portion of the page showed
Melody with an iron chain around her neck sucking on an enormous
black penis. Although the look on her face was one of pure misery,
her technique did appear to be excellent.
"What's the web site on the bottom of the page?" Ashley asked,
turning to Natalie.
"Go ahead and type it in," Natalie said. "You won't believe it."
Ashley sat down at the computer at her desk and quickly typed in
the address. After several failed attempts to connect to the
obviously overloaded server, the movie finally started.
Ashley gasped. It was a movie of Melody's slave auction!
Like the photograph itself, the camera was tight on Melody's naked
body, so the face of the auctioneer was not visible in the frame.
But his white linen pants were, and Ashley could see clearly that
it was a black hand that held the whip that was putting poor
Melody through her paces.
The auctioneer's clear voice drowned out the crowd's festive
chatter.
"You see we have here a right tight piece of white meat, all
tender and ripe and juicy. Not quite a virgin, but tight as
a tick. Tiny little udders, but she's built for breeding, and
her mouth's hotter'n a sidewalk in August. A bit sassy, but
the whip'll break her quick enough.
"She's a grade 'A' bed wench. But don't take my word for it,
gents. Feel for yourself!"
Ashley closed the player window in horror just as an interested
buyer began to insert his finger into the trembling, horrified
merchandise.
"It's awful," Natalie wailed. "Every month has a video that shows
the girl acting out the scene in the calendar! How is Melody ever
going to walk through the mill again after all the men in the
factory watched her AUCTIONED? How is Brittany ever going to be
able negotiate with anyone?"
Ashley knew that Melody would stay at home like a frightened
kitten and let the men run her family's business. And news
anchor Paula would become a weather bimbo, and Monica would
not run for re-election. The women would cede control back
to the men.
Just like Judge Hawthorn envisioned.
The calendar was more than just a humiliation. It was designed to
turn the town's most successful young women into feckless bimbos.
Pictures don't lie. And neither do videos. But they sell. Yes,
these pictures definitely would sell.
******************************
As she began to turn the page, Natalie quickly interrupted.
"I think we should just skip September and go straight on to
October," she said, her voice cracking with desperation.
September's picture showed Natalie in a school uniform, complete
with tie and beanie cap. Her plaid skirt was pinned up, front
and back, and her panties were at half mast, revealing her red,
freshly spanked bottom.
She was holding a piece of chalk and was looking back at the
camera with tears in her eyes. On the blackboard, the same
phrase was written over and over:
If I chatter in class, Mr. Nerdly will spank my bare fanny.
If I chatter in class, Mr. Nerdly will spank my bare fanny.
If I chatter in class, Mr. Nerdly will spank my bare fanny.
In the photo, Natalie was biting her lip. And now, as she looked at
the horrifying picture, she bit it again.
The smaller photo showed Natalie over an unseen man's knee,
scissor-kicking her legs as the "Board of Education" rained
down fire on her naked backside.
The caption read:
"Professor" Nat
Was snotty and pushy.
So we sent her to school,
And spanked her bare tushy!
Natalie glared as her "friend" Ashley laughed at her expense. "I
imagine your classes will be quite a bit more popular now that the
undergraduates have seen so much of you," Ashley chuckled. "I
just hope your thesis advisor doesn't start using the paddle."
******************************
Ashley turned the page. She immediately recognized Laura Nobel.
Laura was the wife of the local minister and had led a determined
anti-pornography campaign, designed to clean up the town.
She always dressed very conservatively, as befitted her status as
a moral leader.
In the calendar, however, she was dressed as a whore.
Ashley didn't use the word "whore" often, but, in this case, no
other word fit. Laura's makeup was clownish. Her hair was
teased up and frizzed out. Her nipples poked out through her
tube top, and her outrageously short skirt only partially hid
her pussy.
The smaller picture showed the prim preacher's wife, still in her
whore's costume, servicing several black men in an alley.
The caption read:
She didn't like hookers
Parading about.
So we dressed her up,
And turned her out!
******************************
November had a Thanksgiving theme.
Susan Longfoot was a local lawyer who was also a leader of a local
Indian tribe. Her skillful leadership had led to her tribe's
first casino, the profits from which had built schools, roads,
and businesses for her people.
But, in the calendar, the esteemed and respected attorney was
portrayed as a naked Indian savage. She had a single feather
in her headband, and her hair was braided into two pigtails.
War paint greased her cheeks. Susan beamed with pleasure as
she submissively offered a roast turkey to a bearded pilgrim
with a buckle on his hat.
The smaller photo showed her on her knees, pleasing the pilgrim
in a far more intimate way.
Ashley winced as she read the caption:
Her financial skills
Inspired our awe.
But we still stripped her down,
And made her our squaw!
Despite her revulsion at the image, Ashley felt a twinge of
relief. As the sponsor of the calendar, she had been expecting
the worst. But it was already November, and there were no
pictures of her.
And there was only one page to go....
******************************
When Ashley revealed December, it was Natalie's turn to laugh.
The picture showed a smiling Ashley, leaping out of a brightly
wrapped Christmas package. She had an idiotic smile on her face
and was wearing a Santa's cap and red garter belt, heels, hose....
And nothing else.
Natalie laughed merrily at the sight of Ashley's bobbing breasts
and closely trimmed bush, immortalized for the world.
In the smaller photo, a midget in an elf costume was taking a
drunken-looking Ashley from behind.
Our sassy young jurist
Makes a good Christmas 'ho.
Merry Christmas from Search'em,
Merry Christmas from Joe!
******************************
AND HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM LAKEWOOD, INSOMNIA, SEARCH'EM, AND JOE!
Edited by C. Lakewood