Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 135
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bordello Girls
Chapter One
We were in Club Dare, a private club, for swingers only, and only
couples at that, though the combination, the age, and the sex didnÕt matter.
A women, Alison whispered, had once managed to get in with her
dachshund. We sat in its main dining room, in complete privacy, save for
the inquiring glances of other diners. MasterÕs limo had brought us. WeÕd
been wrapped in fur for the journey, then undressed before being seated.
All around us sat others, mostly well dressed, for the night was still
young. WeÕd been at our partying early.
I glanced at the clock. It was a big grandfatherÕs clock, with a
pendulum, that sat nestled in a shadowed corner, ticking away our lives.
It looked like it dated from the eighteenth century, it was so old, with
little nicks in it here and there along its well-polished wood.
ÒA clock Napoleon once owned,Ó master said, following my gaze.
ÒMelissa, can you tell time yet?Ó
ÒOf course!Ó Melissa answered. She was sulky. She had not been rodded
as I had been. Nor had Alison. They were restless. We all squirmed for
one reason or another, Steve, dressed like master in a tuxedo, though a
less expensive one; myself and Alison and Melissa as naked as babes, our
breasts rubbing the tablecloth whenever we bent down to suck up an
especially large knot of spaghetti.
ÒWhat time is it?Ó Master asked Melissa.
ÒMidnight, stupid,Ó Melissa replied. He frowned at her. She stuck out
her tongue at him.
ÒDo you like your spaghetti?Ó Master asked her.
ÒNo,Ó Melissa replied, but sucked lustily upon a string of the pasta all
the same, twirling her fork as she lifted it high above her face. I watched
as her breasts jostled pleasantly on her chest.
We were in public, quite naked, and yet obedient. Even Melissa
remained obedient, despite her displeasure at being left out of my fun. I
did not know if she even knew what she wished for, whether she was
virgin or not, but clearly she wanted to pretend she desired a cock. She
slurped in her string of spaghetti and licked her lips, eyed Steve, master.
ÒHow come we are the only ones who have to be naked?Ó Melissa asked.
Her voice was high-pitched, childlike.
ÒBecause you are the loved,Ó Alison answered, her head bowed slightly,
eating quietly.
The other diners watched us with dancing eyes. We were an inspiration
to them. We had gone where they had yet to go, tonight. We blazed a path
so that they might follow. I felt their eyes upon me. I knew they would
not help me if I tried to escape. Master had discreetly chained us each to
the other by our right wrists. HeÕd put a bracelet round mine, AlisonÕs
MelissaÕs right wrist, than run a chain through it, small, fine-linked, but
strong. Passersby on the sidewalk barely noticed, if it all, as weÕd
entered Club Dare. Inside, stripped of our coats, our subservience was
more obvious. We would all have to go the potty together, when the time
came. That would be an even greater spectacle, the three of us walking to
the womenÕs bathroom, chained together, inseparable even when
performing our toilet.
The waitress came. She was veiled in silk for modesty, her face half-
hidden, though I saw her smiling within. She was naked beneath her
headdress, anonymous, an encouragement to all to partake of whatever
liberties they wished. Master pinched her bottom when she refilled his
glass. She jerked, nearly spilling some wine upon the tablecloth.
ÒYou are lucky,Ó Master told her. ÒThe wine is expensive.Ó
ÒYes, sir,Ó she answered, taken aback by his forwardness but still
performing precisely, the very best of stewards. She replaced the wine in
its ice bucket. As she turned I saw others had pinched her heinie, there
were red marks upon it. I wondered after her. Was she a college girl,
doing this at night for the money? Certainly it must pay very well, for
she had no stockings to put loose bills into. She must be paid at the end of
the evening, I guessed, by the manager. Perhaps a word or two added a tip
to the bill, allowed the patron to charge his satisfaction with her to Visa,
or American Express. Or perhaps she was just like us, a prisoner,
kidnapped. I vowed to get a word with her if chance provided. Perhaps she
would help me escape. But I would have to take Melissa with me. I felt
responsible for her.
ÒI want dessert!Ó Melissa pouted. She was dueling with master again.
ÒGet under the table, Melissa,Ó Alison said. The girl looked quizzically
at her. Alison was wholly in the power of master. She might not stop us
from escaping, but she wouldnÕt help us. She needed our bottoms to give
master other targets for his belt.
ÒThere isnÕt any desert under the table!Ó Melissa protested. She was
falling more and more into their grasp with every passing hour, I saw. She
was an unfucked virgin, or one who acted like it, and she was bent on
getting a penis up her. Then she would flee home and report her paramour
to mommy, to the police, just for the joy of seeing her lover squirm.
Master kicked her shin and she let out a feeble Òouch!Ó
ÒUnder the table,Ó master ordered her. I saw MelissaÕs eyes light up,
and knew what idea had struck her. Under the table she could frig herself.
Eagerly she slipped from her chair.
ÒThere are two honeypots and two long-stemmed straws of cream
under the table, Melissa,Ó Alison told her fast-disappearing form. ÒI
expect you to eat all of them, since you had no desire at all for your peas.Ó
ÒI hate peas,Ó Melissa answered. Her voice muffled as she slipped to
her knees under the tablecloth. I felt soft hands and small fingers come to
my knees. They were opened. Hot breath wafted against my thigh.
ÒMelissa!Ó I cried. I was trying to plan our escape. DidnÕt she know
that? What was she doing pleasuring me? ÒAck!Ó Her tongue upon me.
She should distract the others, not me! And then I heard it: soft moaning.
Melissa was masturbating her little clit even as she put her tongue to
mine. I squirmed in my chair. The touch of the silk hurt my bottom as I
shifted upon it. But my quim felt delicious. Too delicious.
ÒAhhhh! Ahhhh!Ó I moaned aloud. The other patrons turned, watched
me with glee. Melissa moaned below the tablecloth, touching herself and
crying out as she made me do the same.
Our waitress brough dessert. Cream-filled cake for all of us. I could
not eat. My face was uplifted, my mouth open, my breath hot and loving.
ÒAhhhhh!Ó I cried the female cry of pleasure. Alison, leaning over toward
me, cut a piece of my cake for me and lifted it to my lips. I bit into it.
She forced in the entire piece. The waitress, having served the others,
returned to me and helped me part my lips to receive another piece of the
cake.
I heard zippers unzipping at other tables, at our own. Quietly men
throughout the restaurant began to frig themselves, alone or with the help
of their girlfriend. Waitresses, quick to respond, veiled as our own was,
passed out condoms to receive the menÕs sperm.
ÒYou must put it on, sir, if youÕre going to take your cock out,Ó I heard
one waitress say to the man in her care.
ÒBut I donÕt need it,Ó he replied. ÒIÕm only going to fuck my wife, and
not now, later, at home.Ó
ÒYes, but you might spill on our carpet and stain it,Ó the waitress
replied. My manager doesnÕt mind paying for the the occasional seat, if
you wish to sit bare assed, but he doesnÕt want to lay down a whole new
carpet, or charge you for it, either.Ó
My own master, Lord Algonquin, seemed similarly constrained by
financial necessity. He accepted a condom from a second waitress, our
first being playfully engaged with me.
ÒDastardly thing, isnÕt it?Ó Lord Algonquin said to our impromptu
waitress. ÒTakes all the fun out of it, its so clean, so thorough, so
clinical.Ó
ÒWould you like me to help you fit into it, sir?Ó the waitress asked
helpfully.
ÒYes,Ó Lord Algonquin replied. ÒKneel down and do it with your teeth,
if I must have one on.Ó
ÒYou must, sir, house rules,Ó the waitress replied. ÒYou can strip
naked if you wish, but you must always have a condom over your cock when
it is exposed.Ó
With rude efficiency the waitress turned Lord Algonquin in his chair,
so that he faced her. Our chairs had no arms. The backs were open so that
our bottoms could be seen. Like a nurse, the waitress undid masterÕs
trousers, wresting his cock completely from his underpants, forcing him
to sit bare assed upon the chair. ÒThatÕs good,Ó she cooed, obviously
impressed with his cock and how it stood up like a fine young pine tree.
He may have been old, at least twice my age, but his cock stood out as
strong and potent as a yule log in a loverÕs fireplace at Christmas. The
waitress fitted Lord Algonquin with an extra-large condom. She had to
stretch it to get it over him. She licked his thing first, to make it more
wet and receptive. Then she started the condom with her teeth, but soon
gave up and found she had to switch to her fingers. He was simply too big
for cock and tongue games. The condom had to be pulled, stretched, and
finally yanked down his shaft to make it fit. She kissed his properly
sheathed cock when she was done, right on the head. Then she moved on to
Steve. ÒOh, my, not another gigantic cock!Ó I heard her exclaim as she met
SteveÕs member. I had large lovers.
Alison fed me more cake, kissing me between mouthfuls. She
whispered sweet blandishments to me. ÒCome, darling, let her taste your
sweet honey,Ó Alison cooed. The waitress echoed her words. I cried
plaintively, not wanting to spend in front of all these people. My womb
must remain private, not a source of public amusement!
It was no use. With cocks everywhere, with the waitress and Alison
urging me on, with dear Melissa striving for her own under the table even
as she licked me, I orgasmed. I heard a soft shriek from Melissa between
my legs. She was climaxing too! We mewled like passionate kittens as
our cries rent the air. We climaxed together. We rode wave after wave of
bliss, her hand busy between her thighs as her tongue flicked my bud.
Unrepentant lesbians, hedonists beyond restraint, we tossed and turned
upon a sea of bliss. At last we glided slowly back to earth, still together,
she still licking me from under the table, I still in my chair.
ÒVery good, Melissa,Ó Lord Algonquin congratulated her. He lifted the
tablecloth and spoke to her. ÒNow go on to Alison.Ó
ÒWork! Work! Work!Ó Melissa grouched. She brushed back her hair and
crawled over to our mistress. Alison shifted her bottom forward on her
chair and helpfully spread her legs.
ÒStick it right up, dear!Ó Alison commanded cheerfully. ÒIÕll make a
boy of you yet.Ó She laughed. Melissa grunted and parted AlisonÕs pussy
lips, sought her bud with her tongue. The men, watching, flexed their
cocks in anticipation. Poor Steven! How he would have loved to fuck
Alison! He had yet to release his spermy emissions, despite spending
hours in our company. All around him young females were climaxing while
he himself was forced to sit still. His balls, most uncomfortably full,
bulged between his thighs like overripe fruit. His cock, upstanding, sought
to spurt in any direction it could, even into the air. Thankfully his condom
protected us from being showered by his seed, should he lose control.
Alison felt MelissaÕs tongue up her and moaned. ÒYes, but deeper! You
can do it!Ó Alison urged. She looked lovingly down at little Melissa and put
a hand to the girlÕs head, stroking her hair. ÒThink of yourself as a boy,Ó
she encouraged. ÒGet right up me like he would. Make me pregnant with
your tongue.Ó I helped Melissa, fidgeting with AlisonÕs nearest nipple.
With my other arm I circled the waitressÕs waist and began titillating her
clit. She touched my own wet bud, offering me a second round of pleasure.
The men watched, eager-eyed, the waitress doing me while I did her,
Melissa doing Alison. Soon we were all within the grasp of pleasure again,
bleating like lambs, encouraging one another as we strove nakedly to
attain our own desire.
I got up at last from the table. I felt awkward, unsure. I brushed my
hair back out of my eyes in an attempt to regain my composure. I licked
my lips. A delicious meal. Honey bedewed my boldly naked bush. I brushed
it lightly. It was my little mound of fur, between my long, sleek thighs. I
moved and felt my succulent hole between my legs. There was nothing,
absolutely nothing, between my private place and all the men around me
with their business-like tuxes and their penises. I walked as
unselfconsciously as I could. I had to go to the bathroom. I could cum in
my chair, I knew, but peeing in it would be looked on most unfavorably. At
least I supposed so. I did not need any more embarrassing disclosures of
myself this evening.
Programming with Java Joe!
Recently I was on a modern archeological expedition. You probably call
this Òdumpster diving.Ó But the next time you see some guy digging
through your trash, please donÕt get mad at him. He is hard at work. HeÕs
unearthing your credit card receipts and your discarded checks for a noble
purpose: to compile a history of our civilization in the present moment.
Why wait 2,000 years to find out what a society was like? ItÕs so
difficult piecing together the remnants of some long-gone society after
their civilization has collapsed and vanished. So me and my buddies are
hard at work NOW, while this society is fresh in our minds and still all
around us.
The other day I found a discarded program in a trash can. (I found some
Barbi dolls and G.I. Joes that I had a big orgy with too, but thatÕs another
matter.)
The program was ÒDiscover Programming with Java
(http://www.metrowerks.com).Ó I took it by the Burger Thing restaurant
and, when the manager was out of his office, I slipped in and got to work
on his computer. (Then I locked the door so heÕd think he locked himself
out of his own office!)
I got in several good hours with Java. And hereÕs what IÕm able to
report:
1. What is Java? Is that some kind of coffee perverts drink?
Java is a programming language, like C or PASCAL.
2. What are Java applets?
Any time you see the word Òapplet,Ó just substitute the word
Òprogram.Ó An applet is a program.
3. What do Java applets do?
YouÕve probably created a Web page. On your Web page you can display
text or pictures. But your web page is static. If you learn Java
programming, you can now allow users to go to your web page and run
programs (applets) that youÕve put on your web page.
LetÕs say you create a web page that has an applet that lets people
draw pictures. I could go to your web page and sit there and draw pictures
of naked girls. Someone else might be looking at your web page at the
same time, and using it to draw pictures of naked men.
2. How do I run Java applets on my trusty Microsoft Explorer?
You donÕt. HereÕs how Java works. I have a Macintosh. (In the
managerÕs office at Burger Thing.) So...
1. You need a computer.
2. You need to buy a web browser for your computer. (If your computer
is, say, an Apple II, there might not be any web browser available for it.)
3. Your web browser needs to be ÒJava capable.Ó (Microsoft Explorer
is not Java capable. Netscape Navigator is.)
3. How do I get a copy of Netscape Navigator Gold 3.01?
Go to this ftp site (itÕs free): ftp.netscape.com
4. I donÕt have much money. What to do?
The cheapest price IÕve found for Discover Programming with Java is
at: http://www.maczone.com
When you boot up Netscape Navigator Gold 3.01 it will try to call
Netscape to register the product (and make you pay for it). Just hit ÒstopÓ
in the dialogue box (that appears on your screen) to stop this process.
Then you can sit at your computer all day and create Java applets and run
them on a Java capable web browser. You wonÕt be on the Internet, or
actually using Netscape Navigator to navigate the Internet, but you can
learn Java programming with it. (I wouldnÕt want the manager at Burger
Thing to get any bills he didnÕt expect!)
BUSH Q and A:
yngnsxy@aol.com writes: I need to have Sexx with Bush weally badly!
How can I get fucked by them?
holy joe replies: I am the Official Sex Representative for Bush. If any
of you girls need to fuck Bush, just e-mail me! IÕll arrange it. Most times
Bush is available, but on those rare occasions when they are not, a
substitute will be provided. Also, if any of you girls still want to fuck
Kurt Cobain, I am also the Official Sex Representative for Kurt Cobain.
AND IN THE END...
"The very purpose of the First Amendment is to foreclose public
authority from assuming a guardianship of the public mind. ... In this
field every person must be his own watchman for the truth, because the
forefathers did not trust any government to separate the truth from
the false for us."
...Thomas v Collins, 323 U.S. 516 (1945)
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-END OF 135 EMISSION