Andrew Roller Presents
                                          FUCK DECENCY
                                          Issue No. 199

                              Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                         Private Places

                                          Chapter Four

         Candi trundled out a low tea cart.  She was rudely naked from the 
waist down, clad in only her stockings, having surrendered her panties to 
the men.  Yet the trolley she pushed held the most finely crafted tea set, 
of sterling silver, and ancient lineage, we were told, by hostess, as the 
tea arrived.  It was Darjeeling, the first tea of the season, brought over on 
trim cutter ships, plowing the seas with their powerful prows, I imagined, 
with a fishtailed mermaid pinned to the front of each for good luck, her 
firm pink-swelling breasts showing naked even as CandiÕs wobbly, nervous 
bottom showed now.  Her bib had been altered by someone in the kitchen, 
whoÕd lifted it up and tucked it in (perhaps fastening it with something 
discreet) so that her pussy lips showed.
         ÒNow girls, this tea is to help you relax,Ó hostess advised us.  ÒDrink 
it slowly and enjoy it.  ThereÕs no need to rush.  Drink plenty.  I want you 
to take a good healthy pee before youÕre tattooed, to make you in touch 
with your body, and understanding your proper place in life.Ó  The other 
maid, perhaps having guessed it would be needed, lugged out a big chamber 
pot and plopped it down near the table, but just far enough back so that 
everyone could see if a girl had to use it.  Candi, meanwhile, picked up the 
pot of tea and began pouring a cup for each of us in turn.  We had fine china 
cups by our place settings to receive the warm tea.  It left a curlicue of 
rising steam in its wake.  I lifted my cup, drank, savored the delicate 
taste.  The tea was just right, smoothly hot without being too hot, though 
I burned my tongue just a little, but did not mind.  
         ÒCareful not to spill any on their breasts, Candi,Ó hostess advised.  
ÒWe donÕt want any of them scalded.Ó  With her own fine bosoms 
displayed, quiveringly, over the top of her too-tight bodice, lifting and 
proferring her boobs like they were fruit displayed in a market, Candi 
poured carefully, and each girl received her tea with a quiet, heartfelt 
Òthankyou.Ó  It was delicious tea.  Fully blossomed, having brewed for 
hours in back, prepared specially for us.  
         The second maid, dressed as Candi was but still retaining her 
panties (though her apron too had now been tucked up), offered us cream 
and sugar.  I asked for two cubes.  She lifted them with an elegant, slim 
pair of tongs.  When she was done she offered me a slice of lemon to go 
with my tea, studded with cloves.  I accepted, she dropped it in.  I watched 
it float upon my tea and then sipped carefully, lest I swallow it.
         ÒWould you like milk also?Ó the maid asked me.  I nodded.  I was the 
first to request it.
         ÒTilt back your head and open your mouth,Ó the maid told me.  I gazed 
at her inquiringly.
         ÒThe milk goes directly into the mouth, dear,Ó Jill explained.  
         ÒOpen wide,Ó the maid insisted, and made to pour whether I complied 
or not.  Quickly I parted my lips, gazed upward.  The milk was poured too 
fast.  Its coldness hit my teeth, my chin, splashed onto my bosom.  My 
dress was held aloft still, the milk washed my teats within the confines 
of my Ôbarely-thereÕ dress as the maid directed the flow from my face to 
my tits.
         ÒOh!Ó I cried, putting my head straight again.  I clasped my bosoms 
from beneath, afraid to block the pouring milk lest I be punished, but not 
wanting it all the same.  It was so very cold, as if preserved at just a 
degree above freezing.  A startling contrast to the tea.
         The maid, as if to complete her conquest of me, dropped two lemon 
slices straight onto my bosoms.  I watched as they slid down over my 
dress and dropped into my lap.  Everyone had a good laugh, gazing at my 
surprised face.  Gwen wisely declined the milk when it was offered to her, 
as did the other girls.
         Ignoring the mischievous maid whoÕd nearly ripped open my dress 
with the fast-pouring milk, hostess turned to Candi when sheÕd finished 
serving tea and returned to the head of the table.
         ÒYou are not the least bit messy, Candi,Ó hostess said to her.  
ÒArenÕt you a bit embarrassed to be so fresh and clean while women who 
are far superior to you sit with their dresses all ruined and their bosoms 
plastered with spaghetti?Ó
         ÒNo,Ó Candi answered truthfully.
         ÒWell, I am,Ó hostess answered.  ÒWe must somehow preserve the 
dignity of all these fine young women here.  Come, show me your bust.  Let 
us decorate it with a little milk and lemon juice.Ó  Candi, squeamishly, 
leaned forward and let hostess take hold of her young tits.  ÒHow long have 
you worked here, Candi?Ó hostess asked.
         ÒOne month, maÕam,Ó Candi replied.  ÒDo you enjoy sashaying around 
with your bottom bare, or in just your undies, catering to men at sports 
parties or to women at bridal showers?Ó hostess asked.
         ÒA little,Ó Candi replied.  She watched nervously as hostess picked 
up a wedge of lemon.  Candi screeched softly between close-pressed teeth 
as hostess squished the wedge and squirted fresh lemon juice onto CandiÕs 
stiff nipples.  
         ÒStings, doesnÕt it?Ó hostess asked her.
         ÒYes, please donÕt dooo it,Ó Candi answered, but mistress firmly held 
each titty in turn, lifting it up by grasping it from above, plucking the 
young flesh up out of the gripping bodice, and squirted each nipple again 
with a second wedge.
         ÒWhat is your primary purpose here, Candi?Ó hostess asked.
         ÒTo please the customer,Ó Candi answered.
         ÒYour breasts please me.  What do you think of that?Ó hostess asked 
her.
         ÒThank you, maÕam,Ó Candi shuddered.  She watched as hostess lifted 
a pitcher of milk.  It had been replaced upon the trolley by the other maid.  
It was still glazed with moisture, it was so cold.
         ÒThis should feel good on your stingy nipples,Ó hostess said 
soothingly.  She poured the ice-cold milk onto CandiÕs teats.  The girl rose 
up on her toes, quavered right on her toe-tips as hostess washed each 
nipple with milk.  I pitied her.  She was nearly as young as me, and Gwen 
whispered in my ear that she was from the slums of Rio, plucked out to 
serve here, in this elegant retreat, away from the anarchy and chaos of 
RioÕs poorer districts, because of her extraordinary beauty.  Yet she was 
being used, I thought, and Gwen confirmed it, saying new girls were 
brought here each year, the old ones discarded, unless they were specially 
favored, in which case they were allowed to stay on.
         ÒThis will be her first truly naughty party,Ó Gwen told me.  ÒSheÕs 
been permitted to just tease for a month, in preparation for tonight, 
entertaining businessmen or ladies who cannot afford to pay what we are 
paying tonight.  After this she will be moved up to more rigorous service.  
Each function will see her soundly thrashed, or balled by all the men up 
her pretty ass, more than she can take, until she screams for mercy.  She 
will be tested beyond the limits of her endurance, wearing her out in just 
one year.Ó  Gwen stroked my thigh as she spoke, advancing it boldly up 
within my too-short dress.  I did not know whether she was speaking the 
truth or not.  It seemed to me this was a perfectly wholesome restaurant, 
although the occasional bridal shower or private menÕs romp was not hard 
to imagine in this room, if the men kept the noise down to a reasonable 
level, or played a largescreen t.v. loud enough to drown out the partyÕs 
more intimate moments.  ÔMore difficult moments,Õ a maid might call 
them, finding her pretty bottom stung by boisterous women with birches, 
Oprah declaiming to an applauding audience in the background, drowning 
out her cries.  Or the men, ostensibly Ôwatching the game,Õ but actually 
using the maidÕs bottom to relieve their tension, her heartstopping cries 
extinguished by a roaring football stadium crowd.  Truly, I did not know 
what to think, about the maids and their fate, and it mattered less to me 
now as I felt Gwen assault my pussy directly, her fingers teasingly 
inserting themselves, questing for my button.
         ÒPlease donÕt,Ó I gasped.  But Jill took my hand and lifted her own 
skirt up, decorously, as if attending to some necessity that need not be 
apologized for.  She stuck my own limp fingers into her pussy and made me 
frig her even as Jill finger-fucked me.  With her free hand Gwen rubbed 
herself, frankly, the men watching, other girls gazing at us and nodding 
approvingly.
         ÒNow for that tomato up your bottom, Candi,Ó I heard hostess say 
through dimming ears as I began to swoon under GwenÕs attention.  Candi 
turned, her breasts and bodice now coated with milk, and offered her 
peach to hostess.  Despite the look of apprehension on her young face she 
parted the cheeks of her behind and waited as hostess lifted the from the 
trolley a single tomato.  There was a fresh jar of vaseline beside the 
tomato and hostess took the tomato, which she held with the tea-service 
tongs, and glided it gently across the surface of the new vaseline.  In a 
moment the tomato was properly prepared.  As Candi waited, venting the 
hinds of her bottom for hostess, the older woman stuck her fingers into 
CandiÕs rear and pulled apart the ring of her anus. 
         ÒOooo, please donÕt,Ó Candi objected.  Yet she did not do more than 
flinch as hostess pressed the tongs to her resolutely.  I watched, Gwen 
fondling me, having found my special spot, as the tomato was inserted.  
CandiÕs eyes popped open, wider than IÕd ever seen them.  Her lips pursed 
into a small O as the O of her anus was forced to receive in back.  In went 
the little vegetable, and hostess prodded CandiÕs anus with the now-empty 
tongs to make sure it didnÕt come back out.  Candi shuddered as she felt 
the tomato worm its way up her butt.  The rectum is like a vacuum, I read 
once, and anything inserted into it will travel upward with ease.  (Though 
the journey back down might take awhile.)  CandiÕs knees wobbled like 
jello, her breasts shivered over the cups of her too-tight bodice.  Hostess, 
done at last, gave her an admonitory slap upon her buttcrack and told her 
to quit showing off her bottom and stand up straight.
         As Candi received her tomato the second maid came round and 
exposed all of our bosoms.  She did not ask permission, she simply 
approached a woman from behind, lifted her straps neatly off her slim 
shoulders, and then dipped her hands into her falling gown and hefted up 
her gourds.  White-fleshed they came into view, firm and swelling and 
capped with lovely risen nipples.  My own were lifted as I continued to 
fuck and be fucked my Gwen and Jill.  We paused a moment to let the maid 
to her work, then went back to our own, lustily.  
         ÒPlease!  I shall come soon!Ó I protested, more for politenessÕ sake, I 
think, for I was finding the fingers very intrusive and wonderful at the 
moment, watching Candi get fucked up her butt by mistress and her tongs.  
CandiÕs tomatoing proceeded, as did my finger-fuck, and by the time Candi 
stood erect again IÕd just drenched my panties in a lip-biting orgasm.  
         We tidied ourselves.  We pushed our dresses back down our thighs 
and looked guiltily at hostess.
         ÒWell, well, three little piggies seem to have gone to market,Ó 
hostess laughed.  The men all watched me with desiring eyes.  ÒYou have 
such big bosoms for a 13-year-old,Ó hostess complimented me.
         ÒIÕm almost 14,Ó I answered.
         ÒSheÕs the same age as me!Ó Candi squeaked.
         ÒYou are both fine young ladies, and very daring too, I might add, 
though Candi here came out of financial necessity.  Do you send your pay 
packet home to mommie every week, like youÕre supposed to, to feed your 
little sisters and brothers?Ó hostess asked Candi.
         ÒMostly,Ó Candi gulped.  I saw she wore an expensive diamond ring on 
one of her fingers.  The white fingerless glove which sheathed her wrist 
complimented it most excellently.
         ÒCandi, three of these young ladies might need their makeup 
repaired,Ó hostess suggested.  ÒPlease fetch a makeup kit and check their 
lipstick for them, would you?  Such activities at the dinnertable!  Really, 
girls!  But you men enjoyed it, didnÕt you?Ó
         The gentlemen nodded, all in a row, across from us.  Gwen wagged 
her finger at them.
         ÒYou men just love seeing us girls get off, donÕt you?Ó she teased 
them.  Abruptly she reached beneath her dress.  I saw that she was going 
to take her panties off and watched, mesmerized, as she had to press her 
face close to the table to do it.  Getting panties off over oneÕs spiked 
heels at a table was a problem, as IÕd discovered taking off my own to 
receive the donation of cream.  Now Gwen lifted her cream coated and 
juice coated panties aloft, straightening up in her chair.  She dangled them 
before the menÕs amazed eyes.  They wanted to fuck her so badly, I could 
tell, and they were all big, strapping men, yet they did not dare act 
without hostessÕ permission.  All of them, I learned later, had visited 
hostess in the days leading up the party.  SheÕd read them the rules and 
then made them drop their pants and receiving a butt-cracking strapping.  
I envisioned the highly athletic Sam, bending over, receiving, howling as 
hostess showed him in no uncertain terms who would be boss on party 
night.  As Jill told me later, heÕd eaten dinner for the next three days 
sitting on a cushion sheÕd sewn specially for the occasion.  ÒAll bare from 
the waist down,Ó she confided in me.  ÒIt hurt too much for him to put his 
pants on.  I enjoyed three solid days of him staying home from work, 
catering to my every need, with his poor bottom a wreck but his cock 
undamaged, and perpetually hard, it seemed, from the memories his 
bottom gave him every time he bent over or sat down!Ó
         Gwen drew back the rear of her panties, sling-shot like, and then let 
go.  Her panties snapped from her hands and hit Sam directly in the face.  
Jill, laughing, removed her own and shot them off at GwenÕs husband, but 
they went sailing over his head and fell uselessly on the floor behind him.
         ÒLet me try with yours,Ó Jill urged me.
         ÒNo, let her shoot her own herself,Ó Gwen replied, neither of them 
considering that I might simply want to keep my panties on.
         In the next several minutes all of us females took off our creamy 
panties and fired them at our boyfriends.  As Gwen insisted, I got to shoot 
my own, which I used to score a direct hit on SamÕs nose!
         ÒHey, you were supposed to shoot at GwenÕs husband!Ó Jill scolded 
me.
         ÒTheyÕre my panties, and IÕll shoot them at whoever I please,Ó I 
answered.  It had been so fun I wanted to get up and retrieve them and 
shoot them again.  Hostess sensed my need, saw the other girls shared it.
         ÒAlright, men, get those cocks out,Ó hostess declared, suddenly 
changing our party a bit, allowing us to be more frolicsome.  ÒScoot your 
chairs back and let us see how many of you girls can ring a pecker with 
your panties.  Be warned, though, missing will cost you a spanking and 
succeeding will mean that you have to sit on the pole youÕve scored with.  
IÕll keep notes up here.  DonÕt be shy, go get your panties and fire away!  
Ring as many cocks as you like.  We can have you take all of them in the 
weeks ahead.  You need not sit on each one tonight!Ó
         Laughingly we rose from our chairs.  The men prepared themselves.  
They watched with shocked eyes as hostessÕ game caused female panties 
to be sent shivering down their poles, or shooting past them.  We played 
for several minutes, all of us females dancing around freely, shooting any 
panties we could find now, not caring whose they were.  At last hostess 
had us retake our seats.
         ÒThere!  WasnÕt that fun?Ó she declared as we sat huffing and 
puffing from our frolic, our cheeks red-flushed, our naked boobies heaving.  
WeÕd all lost our dresses in the melee.  There was nothing to hold them up 
with the straps taken down.  Losing our dresses, weÕd draped them over 
the menÕs heads, and the males all sat now with gowns on their heads, 
lifted from their eyes so they could see, and with female undies ringing 
their stemming cocks.

                                           STAR WARS
                       First Look at the Sexy Child Princess!

Star Wars, Young Jedi Knights, Lightsabers, $5.99.  ISBN:  1-57297-
091-X

         Review:  Everyone is up in arms (or soon to be) over the new 
Lolita movie.  I say, who gives a shit?  The new Lolita girl  a) looks way 
too old.  b) wears too much makeup.  and c) looks ugly.  
         The REAL Lolita is cuming from George Lucas!  As reported some 
time ago in Fuck Decency (or perhaps in my earlier zine, Naughty Naked 
Dreamgirls) Lucas is developing a prequel to Star Wars.  It features a 
young, seductive child princess.  Lucas is already casting this part.  
         Every night I have laid awake, wondering what the EmpireÕs sexy 
child princess will look like.  And today, walking innocently through the 
grocery, I found out!  
         ÒThe Bestselling Saga Continues!Ó cries the dustjacket of this 
book.  But, frankly, I think TODAY is the first appearance of this series.  
It consists of about a half dozen books.  The one listed above features a 
painting of the child princess on the cover.  She is very, very cute.  I 
have no idea about the quality of the book, but the picture of the 
princess is worth the price.   

                                          OUR MAILBAG

         nowka@scnc.fvl.k12.mi.us (Don Nowka) writes:  ÒWhy would you 
put something like that on the internet?  You should go to see a 
psychiatrist and tell them, not the world.Ó

         holy joe replies:  ÒI'm trying to change the world so it thinks like 
me.  Then I won't need to see a psychiatrist.Ó

                                        AND IN THE END...

                                        SUBURBAN BLISS
                                        no perverts here!

ÒMarilyn Manson... lived a youth of bland middle-class normality in 
Canton, Ohio.  His parents... sent him to a strict Christian boarding 
school.Ó

- Time, February 24, 1997, pg. 68.

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  copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.    
-END OF 199 EMISSION
- Why do I keep going to the grocery every hour?  Could it be that I like 
standing in line looking at JonBenet Ramsey?