MERRY CHRISTMAS, EXON !
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 156
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Amsterdam Damsels
Chapter One
ÒBecky, donÕt stick your finger up MelodyÕs bottom,Ó Cybil said. She
slapped the girlÕs hand lightly but then turned away. I wondered at that.
Was she training her daughter to play with girls, for the enjoyment of
men? Or simply allowing her daughter to train herself? The result would
be the same. I wished Bugs Bonker was on.
ÒOoooh, IÕm going to do you just like Bugs does to Porky,Ó Becky
announced behind me. I let out a yelp as her finger went deeper. ÒI wish I
had a penis,Ó Becky said.
ÒYes, I can meet you this Friday, if youÕre a friend of Sir LÕs,Ó I said
to the voice on the phone. It was a man. He and his wife had called Cybil,
requesting me. My bottom would be all better by then.
ÒYes, my ass is fine, or it will be,Ó I said. ÒIÕve just got a little
girlÕs finger up it right now, thatÕs all.Ó
ÒGood, for I, well, I may want to train it a little,Ó the husky voice
said to me. ÒMy wife and I,Ó that is.
ÒYou sound very handsome, sir,Ó I said. I blushed and wriggled my
hips, glad he couldnÕt see me. I felt a desire to have something in my
other hole, the one Becky wasnÕt playing in.
ÒYes, IÕm handsome, donÕt worry,Ó he replied. ÒI wouldnÕt bother you
otherwise. But my wife insists on being present. We have a close
marriage. You donÕt mind?Ó
ÒNo, wives donÕt bother me... too much,Ó I answered. ÒBecky, get
your hand OUT of my bottom!Ó I scolded. I rolled on my hip and tried to
swat her away. Gleefully she forced her Play-DohÕed finger deeper inside
me.
ÒOh, goody! YouÕre just like Tweetie Bird!Ó Becky cried.
A womanÕs voice came on the phone and the man, who sounded so
excellent, was gone. She gave me their address. I tried to write it down
but I had no pencil.
ÒCall Cybil back and tell her,Ó I said to the woman. ÒAnd...Ó I felt
bold. ÒYour husband sounds gorgeous but I expect to be compensated.Ó
ÒOf couse,Ó the woman answered.
I clicked off the phone. I hated to charge for myself but I wanted to
go home soon. I didnÕt want to have to ask Cybil for more. I would earn it
myself, and if I was lucky, sheÕd make sure I got a nice packet from them
for my efforts.
ÒBecky, this is my bottom, not yours,Ó I said. I reached back behind
myself and clutched at her wrist and drew her Play-DohÕed finger, now
coated with a bit more than Play-Doh, out of my bottom.
ÒOh, it was fun,Ó Becky said. She gave me a big 9-year-old grin.
ÒI know, Becky. I know,Ó I replied. ÒBut youÕre a girl. YouÕre not
Bugs Bonker.Ó
ÒBut I WANNA be Bugs Bonker!Ó Becky offered, her eyes bright.
ÒBut youÕre not,Ó I said. And I turned her around and, as she
squirmed in my grip, I yanked down her swimsuit in back and gave her
little white bottom a slap. ÒBe good, or IÕll spank you.Ó I said.
ÒOook, you already have,Ó Becky said. She darted away from me,
escaping me somehow.
ÒThatÕs not a spanking. ThatÕs one slap,Ó I told her.
ÒItÕs enough for me!Ó Becky cried. And she dove into the pool like a
fish, escaping the hook of the fisherman.
Chapter Two
I served them at dinner. They made me pin up my hair. To give me
elegance, allure; despite my lowly status as a slave-maid. My hair hung in
yellow goldspun curls down round my childish cheeks. My cheeks were
puffy and youthful, my mouth a rosebud of innocent pleasure.
My eyes were wide. Dinner was but a prelude. We would play with
whips afterward. My bottom would glow and burn and I would scream
more loudly than before.
It was the new couple. Sir L had recommended me to them. They had
called Cybil, paid well for me. In advance. I had been submissive. I had
not resisted the Ôassignment.Õ
I had their money in my purse. They did not know that. I planned to
go home as soon as we were finished. Trembling, I held the tray bearing
the husbandÕs liquor. His wife gazed at me. There was a pleased look on
her face.
A black choker secured itself around my neck. It suggested my
status. Gold earrings dangled from my ears to show I was no ordinary
maid. The woman had received me at the door, shown me into a guest
bedroom. There the maidÕs uniform had been laid out for me upon the bed.
She had hesistated, looking at the uniform sheÕd bought, from a costume
shop, and wondered aloud if she should give me earrings too. IÕd worn only
little drop earrings, faux pearls. They would give me everything I needed,
or nothing at all.
ÒI suppose,Ó she mused. ÒYou are so pretty. I did not expect a girl as
pretty as you.Ó She paused. ÒOr so young.Ó
She had predatory eyes. She was approaching 30. Her breasts were
firm still but even if they remained so she wished to bear children within
the year. That wish would change her. She would gain weight
irretrievably in carrying her young and afterward the weight would stay,
expanding her hips and dragging down her breasts.
ÒI suppose I could give you earrings. Just to wear, of course dear,Ó
she added.
ÒOf course,Ó I murmured. Her eyes flicked over my body, sizing it up.
I sensed a touch of jealousy. I was a decade and a half away from having
to choose between children and a career, between children and my looks.
ÒPut on the uniform, then come out and serve us at dinner,Ó she said.
ÒI have dinner almost ready. You need only to serve it. My husband will be
present, of course. He should be home from work any moment.Ó She gazed
at my trim hips. ÒDo not wear the dress. Just the panties, the blouse, the
stockings, the shoes. Leave the dress off. In the course of dinner you
will, of course, lose your panties.Ó
Her eyes gazed at my waist and then rose to my own eyes, captured
them and held them intently. ÒI trust there are no misunderstandings?Ó
she asked. She waited for me to reply but I did not. ÒYou will be whipped
after dinner. It will not be gentle.Ó Her eyes flicked down again, cast
themselves along the contours of my immature hips and then, with a slight
arch of her head, catching a glimpse of my high, round bottom. ÒI wish you
were not so young,Ó she murmured. Her eyes flicked to my breasts, so big
and heavy, and I saw the jealousy return. ÒThen he will impregnate me.
DonÕt expect anything but payment for your services. No...Ó her voice
trailed off. ÒSperm.Ó
ÒYes,Ó I gasped. My heart was fluttering. I wriggled my hips and
wondered why I was here. Did I wish to be whipped? I did not know. I
liked playing submissive. And yet, and yet... it would hurt! I knew it
would hurt and yet IÕd let Cybil call a cab for me, and IÕd come, IÕd rung the
doorbell. And now, waiting on the bed for me, was a maidÕs uniform with a
short dress that I would not be permitted to wear.
I bent and served the gentleman his liquor. It was SeagramÕs Extra
Dry Lime Twisted Gin. Cheap stuff. The meal was pretty but simple. They
were not wealthy. They lived only in a small townhouse and had waited til
their neighbors went on vacation to call for me.
The man, at least, was worth the visit. I felt a wetness in my
panties as I bent and poured out his gin into his glass from a big heavy
bottle. He was perhaps 35, only a policeman, but he lifted weights every
morning and he had a face like Tom Cruise.
ÒDonÕt bother to carry the bottle back to the kitchen,Ó he said to me.
He smelled fresh from the shower and he took the big bottle from my
hands. He set it down next to his glass, intending to drink all of it.
ÒWhere is your skirt?Ó he asked. He hooked a finger in my undiesÕ
waistband and pulled me close. I did not answer. Instead I bit my lip.
ÒYou do not have the right to remain silent at my dinnertable,Ó he
said gruffly to me. ÒI would have to arrest you for dressing this way
anyplace but here.Ó
ÒI know,Ó I answered. Then I tossed my head. I looked into his hero-
like face. ÒYour wife made me do it,Ó I said.
ÒBlaming another?Ó he said accusingly. ÒI do not like that.Ó He
traced the waistband of my panties back behind me and then suddenly, he
yanked down the back of them. ÒYou may as well show your ass if youÕre
not going to bother putting on a dress,Ó he said. Gently he palmed my seat.
His hand cupped each of my hinds in turn and squeezed it. I had a childÕs
bottom. It was not difficult for him to hold half my pumpkin in his palm.
I bent slightly as he cupped me. I let my weight rest seductively in his
palm. Then I squirmed a little to tempt him.
ÒI will have to punish this naughty ass of yours,Ó he said to me.
ÒYes,Ó I breathed. A breathy-sigh. A sigh of satisfaction and
submission.
ÒBut not now,Ó he said. He upped me to a straight-legged position
with a gentle boosting of his palm. He drew his hand away and then gave
me a fatherly slap on my heinie. ÒGo and get our food. IÕm hungry.Ó
I tossed my head again, feigning confidence despite the hordes of
butterflies let loose within my tummy. I could feel his eyes watching me
as I walked away from him. I gave my bottom an extra, exaggerated roll
as I walked. I reached back behind myself and, daring him, insisting on
modesty, I pulled up the seat of my panties. I heard his wife start to
speak but he must have stopped her, for nothing was said. No words of
reproach were given. Girl-like, tempting yet pure, I retreated to the
kitchen.
I checked my hair in a mirror. I loved the attention he gave me. I
took lipstick from a drawer, traced my lips again with it. A little makeup
kit was secreted in the kitchen, for maids who visited. I smacked my lips
to wet them. Excellent. He was so handsome, yet so much older than me.
I knew I should be home, doing my schoolwork, thinking only of boys in my
grade. But I loved the thrill I felt in his presence. I took a turkey from
the oven, placed it on top of the stove. I straightened my top. I wore no
maidÕs bib around my waist. I had to be careful not to spill anything for it
would fall directly on me, or my panties. They were already too wet, with
my own juices.
A pot with gravy in it simmered atop the oven. I dipped a plastic
squirt bottle in it. I squirted gravy over the turkeyÕs golden outer surface
to give it a hint of extra flavor. Then I hefted up the turkey and walked
from the kitchen out to the dining room.
Ted (that was the policemanÕs name) and his wife Sheryl sat
spooning soup into their mouths. They looked up. TedÕs eyes drank in my
figure. I let my hips roll with my desire as I approached them. I tossed
back the dangling blonde curls of my coiffure from my face and set the
turkey down upon the table between them. I placed it from SherylÕs side
of the table, so Ted wouldnÕt pull my panties down again.
ÒWait,Ó Sheryl said as I straightened from a bent-forward pose,
letting go the turkey. She caught the front of my bodice with her hand. It
was low-cut, offering a glimpse of my mammaries. They brooded
bulgingly within it, stretching the fabric to the limit. It was black, felt
like satin to the touch. White lace decorated the fabric where it crossed
over my bosoms. The sleeves were half satin, half lace, the satin part
sheathing my upper arms, the lace my lower. Bows made from the satin
hung temptingly from my elbows. They dangled like black streamers,
catching the eye and waving behind me when I walked.
Sheryl yanked down the front of my bodice. My boobs spilled out.
She let go of it and it sprung up, unable to cover me now it hugged my
bosoms and sqeezed them together and pushed them up. I wore no bra. My
nipples sprouted hard and tempting from my tits.
Delicately Sheryl stroked a nipple with her fingertip, letting just
the sharp end of her nail pass over it, underneath it.
ÒHave you ever thought of having these pierced?Ó she asked me as I
gazed down at my newly exposed breasts.
ÒYes, no!Ó I bit my lip. I had thought of it but certainly didnÕt want
to admit it! Not here, not with them. I raised my eyes and saw Ted gazing
at my bitten lip.
ÒYou do not have the right to remain silent at my dinnertable,Ó he
reminded me. ÒOr to lie.Ó
A pinch at one of my nipples. I dropped my eyes from his gorgeous
face back to my utterly vulnerable breasts. ÒYes, I have thought of it,
but--Ó I watched as his wife seized my other nipple and pinched it.
ÒOoch!Ó I gasped. ÒI am only to be whipped!Ó I blurted. They had paid for
nothing more.
A sound from the kitchen. I realized at once what it was, as did
Sheryl. The gravy pot was overflowing. IÕd forgotten to turn off the heat
under it.
ÒGo and get the gravy!Ó Sheryl hissed at me. She let go of my bodice.
ÒDo NOT pull it up,Ó she added. I ran to the kitchen. My barely-clad bottom
jiggled behind me. The seat of my undies slipped between my cheeks and
hid there, showing my bare hinds.
Trying not to think about my nipples, I turned off the oven. I lifted
the gravy pot and took off the lid and looked inside. The gravy was boiling.
I was careful to keep the steam billowing up from the inside of the pot
from touching my nipples. I replaced the lid and shuffled out to the dining
table with the gravy.
ÒYou are letting it drip on the rug!Ó Sheryl scolded me. I had
forgotten to wipe the pot. I looked back behind me and saw a trail of
gravy spots on the carpet.
ÒLet it be, foolish girl. I will clean it later,Ó Sheryl said. ÒBring the
gravy. Ted cannot eat his turkey without it. And the stuffing too. Look
lively! Hurry, before it all boils over or gets cold.Ó
I gave Ted the gravy, not bothering to pour it for him. I rushed back
to the kitchen to make sure IÕd not left the stuffing on. It would burn and
dry out. I hadnÕt. I breathed a sigh of relief. I brought it out to Ted and
let him serve himself. I returned to the kitchen for cranberries. On my
way out I grabbed a bottle of red wine for myself and Sheryl. Self-
consciously I returned to them, my bosoms preceeding me and announcing
themselves with a tempting bounce at every step I took in my black pumps.
HOLY JOE TELLS ALL!
As you know, when I figure something out I report it directly to you,
dear reader. Well, I have made a new discovery. I thought IÕd figured out
how to build a home-made atom bomb but, unfortunately, when I pressed
the ÒdetonationÓ button today the thing didnÕt go off. So I am delaying my
article on atom bombs. Instead I will report to you about
Òmetacharacters.Ó
For a year and a half I have been posting sex stories to the Net. And
all my stories have looked like shit because the tabs get stripped out
when I post. So, when I start a new paragraph, instead of being properly
indented it
starts right at the edge of the page.
Well, now I have solved that problem.
I use WriteNow. (By WordStar). You may use a different typing
program. (DonÕt worry, I can help you with your program too, most likely).
HereÕs how to indent your paragraphs for Internet posting on
WriteNow for the Macintosh:
1. Type your story as you normally do.
2. When it is finished, pull down the Edit menu and choose
ÒFind/Replace...Ó
3. In the ÒFind text:Ó field, enter ÔcarrotÕt (thatÕs a Ôcarrot,Õ followed by a
t) (the ÔcarrotÕ is created by holding down the shift key and typing a 6).
ÔcarrotÕt stands for tab. We are going to replace all the tabs in your
document with spaces. Spaces donÕt get stripped out when you post to the
Internet.
4. Hit the actual tab key on your keyboard. This will bump your cursor
down to the ÒReplace with:Ó field. In this field, type in nine spaces. In
other words, hit the space bar nine times.
In WriteNow, when you hit the tab key in a document, it enters a tab
which takes up nine spaces.
5. Click on the ÒReplace AllÓ button.
All of the tabs in your document are replaced with nine spaces. Now
your document looks tabbed, but if you pull down the ÒViewÓ menu and
choose ÒShow InvisiblesÓ you will be able to see all the invisible dots
that have been inserted where your tabs used to be. Now you can post your
document on the Internet and it will look like it has a nice tab at the
beginning of each of your paragraphs.
SUMMARY: Use Find/Replace to turn all your tabs into spaces. Insert
ÔcarrotÕt in the Find field. Insert nine spaces in the Replace field.
If you use Word, use ÔcarrotÕt to represent the tabs you want to find
(and replace) in your document. For PageMaker, use ÔcarrotÕt. For
QuarkXpress, use ÔslashÕt. (The slash thatÕs found to the right of your
bracket keys on your keyboard, NOT the slash down at the bottom of your
keyboard next to the period. (The top of the slash should ÔpointÕ to the
left, not to the right.)
Well, there you have it. Now you can post sex stories to the Net that
look cool, instead of stories that look amateurish because all your tabs
have been lost and all your paragraphs
start at the edge of the page.
AND IN THE END...
TAKE HEED, EXON !
ÒHe who cannot see the truth for himself, nor,
hearing it from others,
store it away in his mind, that man
is utterly useless.Ó
- Hesiod
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 156 EMISSION
- Metacharacters, Macworld, February 1997, pg. 184
www.macworld.com