ÒOoooh! DonÕt DO that!Ó Jackie wailed. She wanted to reach back and
clutch at her bottom but her hands were tied up high behind her neck and
she could do nothing but run. Dennis gave her another swat. Tears wet her
face and she suddenly began peeing.
ÒWhat?!Ó Dennis proclaimed.
ÒIÕm watering the grass!Ó Jackie yelped. Dennis gave her another
swat with the whip. She ran faster, the pee trailed out behind her...
SINS OF THE FLESH
Chapter Five
Now available for downloading from FTP site: members.aol.com/nnd66
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 190
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Two
A towel was laid out for me, from the cocktail table. With mistress
and master and Barbi all at me, urging me down, I knelt, then finally bent
over, pressed my face to the towel, and presented my bottom.
ÒWill it hurt?Ó I asked. My voice was meek.
ÒNo more than your caning,Ó mistress answered. ÒIt is good that you
had it.Ó
Òmommie...?Ó I mewled to myself, deep in self-pity, as I felt master
descend behind me and unfurl himself. He would take me vaginally, of
course. That was my most precious prize. And with a stab, and much
work, he did. I felt like a butterfly, pinned down, him over me, big,
demanding. When it was done they helped me up and each of them, even the
men, kissed me, complimented me. Then the girls helped me to the
bathroom and took care of me.
We ate that night by candlelight. The trees rustled above us. Maids
came, the men being gone for the night, and served us a light meal. We
could eat no more than that. Our day had been too exhausting. My cunny
hurt. It was open at last, after 13 long years of waiting. I would not
return to my mom and dad the same as when IÕd left them.
ÒGirls, tomorrow evening, with your marks still showing from your
punishment, you will entertain men. Your husbands may be present,Ó she
said, using ÔhusbandsÕ generically, to refer even to Lord Shaftsbury. ÒOr
they may not, you will never know.Ó
ÒDo you mean?Ó Maria gasped.
ÒYou of the least should complain,Ó mistress snipped. ÒOther men
you wanted, other men you will get. Except, to prove your true love to
your husbands, these men will be quite ordinary. Nothing to write home
about.Ó She glanced at me. ÒEven for you, Cornslip,Ó she added. ÔCornslip,Õ
that was my new slave name, bequeathed by her, for use in her house.
Because I was young, decidedly underage, and had long, silky blonde hair.
ÔCornslip.Õ I kind of liked it, kind of hated it, but it was my new name,
because, in her house, I was hers. ÒYes, your husbands do not want
competition,Ó mistress continued. ÒThey do not want to see you dally
with men whom you might actually like. But they do wish to see you, shall
I be discreet? Worked. HowÕs that? By other men. Noncompetitive men.
They want to see you in action, and they just might, too, but you will be
oblivious to it. They may not even see it until later, on videotape, or there
may be someplace special they can watch from, in the house. I will not
say, and you will not know. Now eat up! YouÕll need energy for your labors
tomorrow night!Ó We ate in silence then, gulping down our food.
Afterwards mistress took us upstairs to bed and tucked us each into a
separate bed, in a separate room, chaining us to the bed so we would stay
there all night, and giving each of us a pill, so weÕd drop off to sleep and
not spend all night worrying.
Chapter Three
The next night arrived all too quickly. We looked perfect, of course,
except for our still-marred bottoms. Mine was in fact white as snow
again, while Barbi had just the lightest traces remaining of her welts.
Sara, though, had a bottom still visibly bruised, and Maria looked almost
fresh from the trestle. For clothes we wore elegant shifts, sliced
uncompromisingly right across the tops of our thighs, leaving our legs
bare. The shifts were metallic, made of the lightest mesh of tie-dyed
metal links, much as Tara had worn many nights ago with Barbi, greeting
the Russians. Barbi had always wanted to wear such a garment. Now she
could, albeit in the presence of unwanted men.
We wore beautiful pumps, glittering, expensive earrings, and forced
smiles. Mistress, wearing a business suit, a jacket plus a skirt, greeted
the men at the front door. They did not enter from the back, walking
through the forest. They were formal guests. They would not be
privileged to all mistressÕ secrets as master and David and Jeffrey were.
ÒGirls, these are our friends for the evening,Ó mistress said. I
blanched. They were computer nerds! They looked like they spent most of
their time reading sexy stories on the Internet, instead of meeting real
girls. (Not that any would have necessarily been interested.) They had too
many freckles, or too many pimples, or were a little too wide around the
middle, or too thin in the chest. One thing mistress assured us, though:
ÒThey are well endowed where it counts, girls! I had them stop by my
office the other day and inspected them individually.Ó They grinned at her.
I suspected sheÕd had them drop their pants, dismissed some, asked others
to come back this evening. ÒAnd theyÕre not too often with girls, so they
will be most attentive, if a little hasty.Ó I thought we were to be taken
then, but such is not mistressÕ manner. ÒBut enough of such silliness,Ó
she continued. ÒBoys, I expect you to treat these girls as if you were on a
real date with them. I realize that not all of you have actually gone on a
date, but do your best to be on your best behavior. Now, if youÕll excuse
me, I promised the girls that if theyÕd be a little daring, to please you, IÕd
be daring too.Ó She actually asked their permission if she could slip off
her skirt. They nodded, dumbfounded, then watched in awe as this Anna-
Nicole Smith lookalike wriggled her dress down her long modelÕs legs and
finally stepped out of it. ÒWould one of you hang it up for me?Ó she asked,
pointing to a coat closet near the front door.
ÒIÕll worship it for you!Ó one of the nerds replied.
ÒThat wonÕt be necessary,Ó mistress smiled. ÒJust hang it up. IÕm
sure IÕll need it again sometime. Now come into the rec room, boys. LetÕs
kick back and enjoy some hot dogs and play.Ó
With each of the males taking one of us by the arm, with two left
over, we found ourselves escorted into mistressÕ game room. There was a
small indoors grill for cooking hotdogs. Mistress, incongruously in her
business jacket, with her legs sheathed in stockings and her garters
showing, set about cooking hot dogs for the boys. The girls and I settled
onto the floor for a round of stud poker. One of the boys dealt out the
cards. He became instantly absorbed in seeing that they were properly
shuffled and dealt, first counting them, to ensure that 52 cards were in
fact in the deck. Such is the way with nerds. The rest, luridly, watched
Barbi, myself, Sara and Maria as we tried our best to sit on the floor
without our shifts riding up to show our nude pussies underneath. We
wore no clothing except the shifts. It was most embarrassing to be seen
by such nerdy men, whom we cared nothing for. I tugged on the end of my
hem, blushing as they watched my crotch. I tried very hard to get the end
of my shirt down over my pussy. Barbi fidgeted with hers, Sara smiled a
bit sheepishly and simply gave up. Her shift lay swathed over her tummy,
her breasts, then stopped short just where it was needed most. She had
pretty cunt lips, at least. Maria worried more about her bottom than her
pussy. It was still painful for her to sit on it.
Mistress handed around hot dogs to the boys. She had let them cool,
and she insisted the boys eat them without any buns.
ÒBut weÕll get grease on our fingers!Ó a nerd whined.
ÒSo?Ó mistress smiled.
ÒBut that will get finger-grease on the cards,Ó he replied.
ÒYes, and then the cards might get marked, and being marked, allow
us to cheat!Ó a second nerd chimed in, to the general agreement of the
others.
ÒBoys, you will eat your hotdogs this way, and so will the girls.
LetÕs enjoy ourselves, shall we? But a little at a time. I donÕt want any
fratboy behavior in my house.Ó
ÒYes, maÕam,Ó they replied, sounding almost like myself and Barbi
when we were trying our best to be quiet and obey.
ÒThis reminds me of the one time I went to the nudie bar,Ó a fat boy
offered, hoping to engage Barbi, whom his eyes seemed to linger on more
than the others. (I was not jealous, I can assure you.)
Mistress cleared her throat, touching her hand to it. She swallowed.
ÒBoys, IÕm beginning to think some of you have never been with a
young lady before,Ó mistress intoned, her voice pleasant but with an
undercurrent of proper Southern respectability, which would be enforced,
because she looked like a beautiful Southern belle and such beauty, in a
woman of maturity, demanded respect. Demanded it. I saw Rhett Butler
suddenly, and Ashley, and even the vicious Union troops on their march to
the sea, suddenly stopping for tea with mistress. However aggressive
they might be on the battlefield, whether theyÕd just finished raping young
innocent schoolgirls while getting into the gin, suddenly, in the presence
of mistress, they must behave properly. I could see her swishing out onto
the veranda in her long skirt, but with her blouse perhaps undone, her
titties showing too much, yet with that blonde hair and those penetrating
eyes set in her soft, sweet face, insisting, wordlessly, or perhaps with
just the few rightly selected words, that they must Òset themselves
downÓ and enjoy a summerÕs afternoon with her, pleasantly sipping the
first tea of the season. ÒWell, you have a lot to learn,Ó mistress said. She
plucked her hot dog from her mouth. It was wet with her saliva, but she
had not bitten into it yet. ÒObviously you boys must realize that we girls
are not thinking about sex all the time,Ó she said. (That was most
certainly true on this evening! Yet, suddenly realizing my master might be
watching, I felt my nipples push up into the mesh of my metal dress,
where they intruded into and caught themselves in the interconnected
links. I hoped none of the boys would pull off my dress too quickly. It
looked like IÕd just become caught in it! Oh, why would he make me suffer
like this, entertaining boys I didnÕt care about, getting caught in the most
insufferable way with my most tender parts, in a dress no girl should ever
wear, hiding little up top because the mesh was light enough that it could
be seen through, the metal being transparent, and so short it should have
been labelled a jacket instead of a dress, for all it did to cover my pussy.)
Mistress turned the wettened hot dog in her fingers, holding just the
end of it, letting it point up toward the ceiling freely. ÒBoys, what does
this remind you of?Ó mistress asked coyly.
The boys glanced furtively among themselves. She seemed to have
just scolded one of them for mentioning the nudie bar, yet now the
question she posed was so obviously intended for only one answer, did
they dare to give it? Finally the boldest, not wanting to displease
mistress but spurred alternately by a desire to impress us with his
knowledge, announced, ÒThatÕs simple. It reminds me of my cock. Mine
would look more like a cucumber of course, but--Ó
ÒYes, dear, you have the cock of a donkey. Very good,Ó mistress
interrupted. She had no time for boys and their stories. We girls giggled
which, alas, caused our shifts to rise up, exposing our pussies, which I and
Barbi, at least, quickly repaired when we realized what we were showing.
ÒAnd what must you do with this before you put it into a girl?Ó
mistress asked our Champion of Knowledge. I found out later his name
was Egbert. Apparently in the middle ages that was actually a good name
but, alas, his nerdy mother when she named him must not have realized
that the middle ages were over.
ÒWell, uh,Ó Egbert said, perhaps considering some physics
calculation in his mind, estimating the mathematical formulas that would
be inherently necessary in the conjunction of two separate bodies in
space... ÒI think you have to put vaseline on it or something...Ó
ÒEgbert, letÕs have a little lesson here, shall we?Ó mistress asked.
ÒIÕm glad IÕm able to bring this up with you boys tonight. Who knows what
might have happened to you out there if I hadnÕt?Ó
ÒThe library would have six extra guys in it?Ó Barbi asked. She
seemed distracted, not really caring. I think she wanted to be with
master. She liked having me around, for company, but she wanted to be
with him, as his wife, in a husband and wife setting, in her own home,
with him talking to her, and listening. I think sheÕd had lots of adventures
before and was beginning to tire of them. For myself, I was intrigued.
Even though the boys were worthless, they had such innocence, and yet
such bulges where it mattered, that I couldnÕt help feeling a little giddy.
Especially since master might be watching, and the husbands of Sara and
Maria. Sara seemed bashful but interested. She exuded a motherly
warmth, yet she was too young to be a mother, such that she simply
seemed caring and friendly. Maria still seemed primarily absorbed with
her bottom. IÕd never been hit so hard. How did it feel, I wondered? Often
as a child IÕd been threated by mom that sheÕd hit me Òso hard that youÕll
feel it for a week!Ó Of course such a thing had never happened. IÕd not
even been spanked, spoiled brat that I was. Yet Maria was now clearly
still feeling in her seat, her poor bare heinie, the effects of a truly
admonitory cropping. And it had been mistress, sitting right here with us,
so sweet and kind, who had administered it. And for what? For nothing,
really, when you thought about it. Maria had done nothing whatsoever to
offend mistress. Mistress had been paid to beat her, like an executioner.
No cross words or hard feelings had been necessary. MariaÕs husband had
simply brought her to Ms. Highbourne, paid the appropriate fee, and then
Ms. Highbourne had whipped Maria according to her masterÕs
specifications. Simple as that. Mistress really did have Southern blood in
her, I thought. Her great-granddad might well have been someone who
punished slaves, for a fee. IÕd read of such a thing in a book once. There
would be a man in the town whom a master could bring his slave to, for
punishment. The slave might have done something, or nothing at all. The
slave had no voice. She (or he) was simply brought, punished, and taken
home again, sobbing and weeping. I watched as Maria tried to find a comfy
way to sit on her bottom. She didnÕt seem to be succeeding too well at it.
She tugged at her hem a little, trying to hide her pussy, and failing at that
too, for she kept squirming on her injured bottom.
AN ATTEMPT AT THIEVERY
info@usa.com writes:
Local Phone Companies Want to Bill Internet Users
ÒI am writing you this to inform you of a very important matter
currently under review by the FCC. Your local telephone company has filed
a proposal with the FCC to impose per minute charges for your Internet
service. They contend that your usage has or will hinder the operation of
the telephone network. It is my belief that Internet usage will diminish if
users were required to pay additional per minute charges.
ÒThe FCC has created an email box for your comments. Responses
must be received by February 13, 1997. Send your comments to
"isp@fcc.gov" and tell them what you think.
ÒEvery phone company is in on this one.Ó
Below is a sample letter IÕve written. You may use it yourself.
Also, info@usa.com encourages retransmission of its message (above).
From: roller666@aol.com
Subj: STOP per-minute telephone charges!
To: isp@fcc.gov
I am opposed to the proposed per-minute telephone charges for
Internet use.
I support the abolition of the FCC.
Sincerely,
Andrew Roller
LEGAL RESEARCH
with holy joe
What does KFC stand for?
As you know, KFC stands for Kentucky Fried Chicken. But what else
does it stand for? Perhaps with an eye to the chicken franchise, an entity
no less authoritative than the Library of Congress has looked at the laws
passed by the state of California and given them this designation: KFC.
In this classification system, K is the classification for Law. KF
refers to law of the United States. And KFC, as aforementioned, stands
for the law of California.
For more on this classification system, read Library of Congress
Classification Schedules, published by Gale Research, Inc. (1-800-877-
4253 or 1-313-961-2242.
(A guy on the bus gave me the designation, ÒLuminary of the LawÓ
when I told him that, but I still consider myself a humble pervert.)
AND IN THE END...
ÒIÕve come to believe hundreds of thousands of law enforcement
officials commit felony perjury every year.Ó
- Former police officer and police chief Joseph D. McNamara
[The practice is termed Òtestilying,Ó (as opposed to ÒtestifyingÓ) under
oath in a court of law.]
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 190 EMISSION
- McNamara: USA Today, December 13, 1996, pg. 16A.