Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 114
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Field of Desire
Chapter One
Monique reached down and parted the two halves of Annie's bottom
with the fingers of one of her hands. Her other hand took up its place,
stroking Annie's blonde head. Annie shivered. Monique was exposing her
anus to the hot oil! Thankfully, Sally's first try at dribbling a drop of oil
on Annie's sphincter missed, hitting her bottom instead. Annie would
never have thought she'd be grateful for hot oil splashing on the skin of
her fair bottom! The next drop missed too, but the third try proved
successful. Annie winced as the oil struck, giving her hips an especially
vigorous wriggle in response. Her pussy thanked her, caring not one whit
for the plight of her anus.
The rest of the oil was slowly emptied out, some on Annie's
bottomcheeks, some between.
"Y'know, I should like to do your nipples as well," Sally said
thoughtfully, as if contemplating rides at an amusement park.
"Ooch! No! Please, my bottom is enuf," Annie said, squirming
beneath her. Monique had left off stroking her locks to hold her wrists in
her hand. Annie had hit upon the idea of covering her bottom with them
and that, of course, was not allowed.
Annie gazed at the men seated along the far wall. Their eyes
sparkled with lust. Their penises were majestic, and try as she might
Annie found herself breaking with modesty and glancing time and again at
the magnificent rods which pulsed just feet from where she lay.
"Now that your bottom's been anointed the oil must be sealed in with
a polishing of the whip," Sally said.
"No!" Annie said, and attempted to jump up but was stopped by
Monique's firm grip on her wrists.
"Have you ever been whipped before?" Sally asked as she reached for
the whip.
"No," Annie said. In her attempt to escape she had placed herself in
the compromising posture of standing with feet flat on the floor, knees
bent, her waist doubled over. She tugged still in attempt to break from
Monique's wrists. Her hair flung to and fro as she struggled. It is said a
woman fights with only half her strength, and even as she attempted to
escape Annie knew she should put less wiggling and more strong pulling
into her efforts. But to do so seemed unladylike, and she contented
herself with a display of her disapproval.
"My, what a nice posture for whipping," Sally observed, whip in hand.
Annie flung herself back down on her tummy.
"Don't worry, since it's your first time I won't whip you hard...just
enough to let you get the feel of it," Sally said.
"I don't want to be like the girl in the next room!" Annie pleaded.
"Oh! She's been brought to the whip many times before," Sally said.
"A sterner treatment is required of her to produce the same level of
emotion." Sally let the tail of the whip dangle temptingly between the
halves of Annie's bottom. Annie trembled.
SWHACK! Suddenly the whip whisked down. It barely hit Annie, but
the girl gave a yelp at the top of her lungs. Afterward, as the lightness of
the bite settled in, Annie blushed at her cowardice. She gazed up at Sally
with wide eyes.
"My, it doesn't take much to get you to ventilate your lungs," Sally
said to Annie.
"Uh, no...I could even scream my loudest without the whip," Annie
said with imprecating eyes.
"Well, we'll just give you a little of the leather to make sure you
really are giving your best scream," Sally said, raising the whip up in the
air for a second strike. "Don't worry, no one can hear you no matter how
loud you cry way out here."
"Being rescued wasn't something I was particularly troubled by,"
Annie said, and as the words left her mouth the whip came down again,
harder.
"Ooook!" Annie yelled. How she wished she could rub her stricken
bottom with her hands. "Yeeeoch!" Annie screeched as another blow fell,
too soon for her to judge whether the previous one had even been worth
screaming over.
"My, such a voice," Sally said. "Are you trying to break the
windows?" She swished the whip back and forth across her thigh.
"Maybe I'll break all your bottles of hot oil," Annie said ruefully.
"Well, that's a naughty thought," Sally said. WHACK! Down came the
whip. "You should have a better appreciation of my services." WHACK!
"What if a minister baptized a baby and then she told the man to go to
Hell?" WHACK!
Tears were forming in Annie's eyes, though perhaps more from
meekness than true pain. "I'd tell the minister to baptize his own bottom
if that sort of thing was his fancy," Annie gurgled, mangling the metaphor.
"Ooh, you are a bad girl," Sally said, and brought the whip down with
more force than ever.
"Eeeyouch!" Annie cried out. Her hips leapt at the lash. "That one
really hurt!"
"Of course, and this one and this one too!" Sally cried, and the whip
came down a multitude of times. Annie screamed, writhing at the strikes.
A minute or so later Sally was to be seen standing on tip toe,
delicately returning the whip to its holder over the mantle. Annie lay
beneath her, sobbing uncontrollably, bright pink stripes crisscrossing her
bottom. Some, however, were already fading, the whipping in point of fact
being about the most gentle a girl could expect to get. Nonetheless Annie
sobbed for all she was worth, perhaps to evoke pity or even,
unconsciously, to excite the men who witnessed her plight. Monique
stroked her hair and whispered soothing phrases.
THE END
AuthorÕs Comments: I agree, that was a short one. Sometimes IÕm
just capturing a mood in a story, what Harry Levin would describe (for
James JoyceÕs stories) as Òepiphanies,Ó or Òa slight but definite insight
into other lives (The Portable James Joyce, pgs. 18, 8).Ó Now hereÕs
another short one:
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Alice
Chapter One
Alice did her very best to type the letter just as Belinda had ordered.
She brushed back her long lemon locks. Even now, pinned up, her hair still
managed to fall perpetually into her eyes. Alice ran her tongue over her
glossy lips. She stared intently at the keys. This was her first real job,
and she wanted to be sure to do everything just right. After a full year of
college she knew she must have good grades and good work experience if
she was ever to fulfill her dreams and become a professional woman.
"You're staying late," Belinda said, exiting her office for some coffee
and passing Alice. The girl looked up at her boss. There was tenderness in
her eyes, mixed with resolve. Alice dropped her own eyes from Belinda's
and gulped.
"Yes ma'am. I just wanted to get your letter done," Alice said.
"I admire your dedication," Belinda said. "Although I do hope you'll
take off early tomorrow to make up for it."
"Yes ma'am," Alice said, and self-consciously resumed her typing.
She was quite fond of Belinda, she found, after knowing the woman for a
week. In fact she found Belinda to be just the sort of woman she herself
hoped to be when she grew up.
Belinda came back with a hot cup of coffee, and an extra one for
Alice. The girl, standing up now, met her superior as the woman
approached the empty desks of the typing pool. The office was silent,
everyone else gone home. Alice proudly held up her finished letter.
Belinda offered Alice coffee and the girl shyly accepted. She took a sip,
then set the cup aside as Belinda scanned the completed letter. Belinda
set her own cup of coffee aside as she read the document, holding the
paper in her hand. The two female's cups rested side by side on a desktop,
the steam from the cups commingling.
"Have you typed the envelope?" Belinda asked Alice, her eyes still
fixed on the letter.
"Yes ma'am," Belinda answered, and presented her neatly typed
envelope. Belinda's eyes drifted to the desktop. There was a sponge letter
wetter there, used to moisten the backs of envelopes. For sealing.
Belinda picked up the wetter. She gave it a single twirl twixt her long-
nailed fingers. Her eyes drifted to Alice, who stood looking at her with
doe's eyes. Alice wore a simple white blouse with a paisley tie knotted at
her throat. The long tie extended down between the outthrust cones of her
breasts. A little black jacket, which Alice had worn most of the day, was
now draped over the back of her chair. The jacket matched Alice's short
skirt. Belinda thought she sensed the budding of teats beneath the silk of
the blouse. Deftly she took the letter wetter and pressed it directly into
the peak of one of Alice's bosoms. Alice gasped, flinched, then held still.
Her eyes partook of the moist spot left by the wetter as it separated from
her blouse. Through the thin material Alice's red areola could now clearly
be seen.
Alice looked up at Belinda. The woman put her letter wetter to
Alice's other breast, revealing her other nipple. "I thought you were not
wearing a bra," Belinda said in a firm tone. "May I remind you that on page
nine of the company handbook it states that all women must wear
brassieres. Right under the section disallowing short skirts." Belinda
meaningfully let her eyes drift from Alice's wetted nipples to her skirt's
hemline. Alice blushed. She was out of order on both points. Belinda
lifted her face and regarded Alice with a regal stare. "However, it being
past the end of the workday now, I think you may wear whatever you
wish." Alice gave a weak smile. Belinda would not report her.
"Open your mouth," Belinda said, and Alice obeyed without thinking.
"Stick out your tongue," Belinda ordered. A bit hesitantly, wondering what
her idol could possibly be asking, Alice nonetheless complied. Suddenly
Belinda took her in a forceful grip and forced her own tongue into Alice's
mouth. A long, deep kiss ensued, with Alice cringing under the assault.
Finally Belinda broke the kiss. She looked at Alice with hot eyes, her prim
managerial hair slightly disheveled. "There, now you know I will not
report you," Belinda said. "For then you would be able to report me. We're
both in violation."
Alice raised a hand. She touched her palm softly to Belinda's breast.
It was large and firm, but lay beneath Belinda's dress jacket. Alice
permitted her hand to slip inside the jacket. She felt the fullness of
Belinda's breast beneath the woman's blouse, captured as it was in a
flimsy brassiere. "Why-why did you kiss me?" Alice asked in a voice of
pure innocence. Belinda's answer was to reach out and lift Alice's chin.
The blonde thought she was to be kissed again, but then Belinda unbuttoned
the top button of Alice's blouse. And then the second. And the third. And
all the way down. There was a look of fright, of deep apprehension on
Alice's face. Yet she did not stop her supervisor's fingers.
Belinda pushed back the open halves of Alice's blouse. The girl's pert
young breasts greeted her in all their glorious nakedness. Belinda dropped
her hands, walked around behind Alice, inspecting her charge. Belinda
lifted her fingers and slipped the blouse from Alice's shoulders, revealing
the nudity of her slim back. It had a light tan. Belinda circled her hands
around the front of Alice's waist. She caught the dressy buckle of Alice's
little skirt. She undid it.
"Ma'am, are you going to undress me?" Alice squeaked. In reply
Belinda zipped down the zipper at the side of Alice's skirt. One push,
Alice's hands tremblingly helping, and the girl's too-short-skirt was now
adorning her ankles. "Please not my panties, ma'am!" Alice gasped, her
voice choked by arousal. But Belinda, resolute, drew these down over
Alice's bottomcheeks and then down her sleek thighs. Belinda turned Alice
to face the desk, hands on Alice's bare hips. "Bend forward," Belinda
commanded.
"Ma'am! Please!" Alice protested, but a hand at her back forced her
down. Alice gasped and let out a babyish gurgle as her full breasts bumped
down upon the top of her desk. She felt a hand caress the inner cheeks of
her bottom. "Don't tighten yourself," Belinda said in a motherly voice of
Alice's clenching moon. Alice looked up to see, in a reflection upon glass,
Belinda wetting a finger in her mouth. Then the finger came to Alice's
derriere and the young girl felt it worm its way between her cheeks,
parting them to touch her anus. But, by centimeters, the anus escaped the
inspection. The office door opened unexpectedly.
Alice's head flashed to one side to gape at the intruder. Belinda
looked up, startled. Her finger in Alice's heinie paused. Then, almost
vindictively, it drove straight into Alice's rectum, up to the first knuckle,
inspecting it after all.
"Oook!" Alice cried, the cheeks of her face puffing. Instinctively she
compressed her bottom cheeks as hard as she could, to protect against
further intrusion, but at the same time inadvertently trapping the probing
finger. Her ankles kicked up, the skirt still around them.
The interloper was a man. He stood in the open doorway, dressed in
a business suit, with eyes that meant business as well. If he noticed
Alice he did not show it. "He is waiting," the man said to Belinda. The
woman modestly bowed her head. She withdrew her finger from Alice's
clenching bottom. She pulled a kleenex from a box and wiped her finger
slowly. Alice did not know what to do with herself. She remained over
the desk, just as Belinda had placed her. It was as if she was frozen with
fright and embarrassment. The man advanced on the two females. He
regarded Belinda, then Alice. "A new toy?" the man asked Belinda.
"A new friend," Belinda replied. "Alice, get up. We have company."
The girl rose and turned to face the man with the greatest of emotional
discomfort. Now that she had showed him her bottom, she was showing
him her front too. Bashfully she put her fingers over her pussy. The man
regarded her dispassionately.
"She is coming, I presume?" the man asked Belinda.
YOU CAN HIRE ME, SONY
by holy joe
Dear Sony,
It has come to my attention that youÕre having trouble filling the top
job in your film division. Did you realize that you forgot to ask me? IÕm
unemployed, you know. I am quite busy reading Playboy and Penthouse, but
I figure running a film studio might be worth my time.
First, of course, before I produce any films for you, we will have to
redecorate all your offices. It would hamper my creativity to work in an
office thatÕs been decorated by a man (Mark Canton) whoÕs proven himself
to be a loser. The entire building should be redecorated, so that there is
not the slightest hint of your unprofitable past. Accordingly, so that we
can think profitably at Sony, all of the tables and chairs and bathroom
fixtures should be gold plated. The wallpaper should be crisp, new $100
bills. This will constantly remind myself and my staff to think about
money. Thinking about money, we will be certain to make money for Sony.
I realize your film, The Cable Guy, flopped. DonÕt worry. We can
recoup this investment by making The Cable Guy II. When itÕs a smash hit,
everyone will want to rent The Cable Guy I so they can know the complete
story. Then both films will be a treasure trove of profit for Sony.
Now, you may be wondering, how can we insure that The Cable Guy II
is successful? Simple. ThatÕs what LloydÕs of London is for. We simply
decide how much money we need, and then we make the film. Then we
insure it. If it fails, we call up LloydÕs and get them to cough up the
difference.
But I intend to make a hit, not a flop. The Cable Guy II will have lots
of sex and violence in it. In this movie, The Cable Guy goes to Japan to
wire it with cable. First we have all kinds of jokes about Japan and how
people eat and go to the bathroom there in little non-toilets. Then, when
that gets boring, the Cable Guy suddenly decides to wipe out his
competition. He builds an atom bomb and sets it off in Hiroshima. This
destroys all competition for cable television in Hiroshima. The Cable Guy
now proceeds to not only go into the cable wiring business, but also into
the home building business, since you canÕt have cable in your home until
you first, of course, have a home.
Meanwhile, this atom bomb misfired in such a way that it created
legions of undead zombies who are wandering around Hiroshima. There are
some visiting Swedish schoolgirls who are trapped in Hiroshima and the
Cable Guy selflessly decides to lead these schoolgirls out of Hiroshima.
What follows are very violent scenes as the Cable Guy must blow away
lots of zombies in order to Escape from Hiroshima.
Upon being saved, the Swedish schoolgirls (who are all underage)
show their appreciation for the Cable Guy by making love to him. In a big
Swedish Girl orgy scene, they have sex with him and each other. (DonÕt
worry about the underage part. ThatÕs what lawyers are for. WeÕll hire
lots of lawyers and keep the government in court for years, while our film
rakes in huge profits.)
Please contact my agent so we can arrange for my signing bonus. IÕll
need two corporate jets, three limos, and two dozen secretaries. Also
some drugs, since I know this will be a very stressful job for me, figuring
out how to spend all that movie studio money! Call Heidi Fleiss for me
too--IÕll need someplace to wind down after work.
AND IN THE END...
LADIES, WANT TO GET MARRIED?
Richard Simmons, Al DÕAmato, and Holy Joe are still available...
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-END OF 114 EMISSION
- ÔMarriedÕ source: Newsweek, (undated, unpaginated!) (Modern
journalism. Ed.)