Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 222
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Seven
With graceful, meek steps, sometimes nervously on our tiptoes, we
proceeded through the dungeon. At the back the twin sofas waited.
Freshly cut flowers, droplets of dew still clinging to them, stood in the
vase on the nightstand. Briefly I admired Max for remembering such a
thoughtful, feminine touch amidst all this male-inspired madness. How
had he managed it? I had not seen him cutting the flowers, yet there they
were, and neatly arranged too, as if heÕd spent time learning floral skills
when he was in prison. Yes, he was just a convict, weÕd learned, floating
in the pool, shivering at the stories heÕd told us of his days in prison. Now
he was out by the governorÕs permission for good behavior. But still half-
captive, under house arrest, and used by Mistress Lalique for her wicked
designs.
ÒAlright girls, letÕs be quick about it. IÕve got other things to do
today, like mow the lawn,Ó Max said. He was housekeeper here too. No
maids or servants were provided for prisoners. But would he leave us
alone down here? A sudden dread filled me at that thought. Just Jill and
I, bound and gagged, the cameras watching, prying? What if we needed
something? Surely he could not abandon us. Jill and I turned, looked back
over our slim bare shoulders at him. We unclasped our hands. From the
look on his face you could see he would brook no nonsense this morning.
He had taken a braided whip from the wall upon closing the gate and it
terrified me. HeÕd not stuck us with it, but he sometimes made us start
with flicks of the whip against the furniture-like machines in the
dungeon.
I bumped my knees to my couch. Jill contemplated hers. Twin
dildos, larger still than yesterdayÕs, stood erectly on the nightstand. They
were already greased. If only I could have been tried again with
yesterdayÕs cock, I might have found it easier this morning, but no, today I
must have bigger still, by order of my unseen masters. Were they
watching me? Did they care? Or was I just the newest bottom to submit
to their horrid desires? I bent, let my ass cheeks show more fully to
whoever might be looking. I stroked the sofa where I must soon lay. I
jumped suddenly. Max had struck something again. Not me, not yet.
Hastily I decided to get on my couch, to comply, to open myself and behave
and been seen to do my best to obey. Jill had the same inspiration. A
moment later we each lay over our pillows, our hands in place, our legs
duly apart, waiting to receive. Max bound us down with the straps affixed
to the legs of the couch for the purpose. He seemed to somehow tie me
wider this morning, make me even more open. I did not protest. I would
need every ounce of openness I had in me to even think of taking such a
huge cock as now stood on the nightstand. I urged my butthole to unclench
itself and bloom wide before the bulletheaded monster. Yet, squirming
over the pillows, I knew it was just about as snug as it had been
yesterday, a little bit opened perhaps, soon to close up completely again if
it were not forced anew.
Jill and I shared self-pitying glances. Max buckled us into our belts,
threading us with the chains so that we would not be able to expel the
gifts which soon would pierce our backsides.
ÒPlease Max, spare us,Ó Jill whispered to him. ÒIÕll do anything for
you.Ó
ÒYou will indeed,Ó Max chortled. He was truly evil, I realized. Then
he took her assigned cock from the nightstand, hers a little bigger than
mine because she was older, and sat down beside her. He put the bullet-
shaped penis to her anus and pushed. She gave a brief cry of alarm as she
felt it intrude. ÒOpen yourself, bitch!Ó Max snarled. He had less patience
today. He worked the cock into her, pushing and shoving, not caring as she
cried out in terror and pain. I donÕt think he truly harmed her, except for
opening her more, but it was his manner, so callous this morning, that
made her bleat with renewed misgivings and fright. When she was
properly impaled he sewed the cock up tight in the ring, then turned to me.
ÒNo!Ó I shouted. I strove to break free of my bonds. It was then I
knew why the straps on the couches had looked so sturdy to me. Stronger
women than I had tried to break free, all to no avail. Fruitlessly I wiggled
about as he sat down, slapped my ass, and then buggered me with the fake
cock. He did not care that I screamed. Softly Jill wept beside me, feeling
used, forgotten, unwanted. With prolonged, penetrating thrusts, perhaps
treating me a little more gently than Jill due to my youth, just past the
edge of puberty, still so young in the world, he got me open and the cock up
me. It took awhile, and many screams later I found myself panting over
the pillows, my bottom bruisingly wide apart, squeezing desperately on
the dildo, yet tiring rapidly. As he stood I gave up and relaxed. My
derriere, so plump and cute, had a sheen of sweat on it. I could feel it
drying fast as I lay breathless and exhausted over my pillows.
ÒTry to sleep,Ó he said, patting my head. ÒI cannot be with you
today. It will all be over in a few hours.Ó He turned, taking his glorious
cock with him, and left me alone with Jill.
We waited in the darkness. He turned out the lamp before leaving to
encourage us to forget and sleep. I closed my eyes, squeezed them. I still
had strength to do that. Letting my tongue fall out of my mouth I felt
more at ease in my bonds, or tried to. I was feminine, female. I must
receive. I must, or the things put into my ass each day would eventually
kill me. I must take them, and not protest. I would suffer more than that,
swelling someday with male seed, birthing a child. This was just a test
run to that. A simple thing, really, I told myself. Turds can go out. Why
canÕt a fake cock go in? But men never did such things, did they, despite
shitting out bigger turds than us girls every day of their lives. Bitterly I
clenched my teeth and tried to fall asleep. Beside me, in the darkness, Jill
sniffled and tried to do the same.
I was awakened with a tap on my shoulder. Immediately I became
aware of a huge presence up my little heinie, splitting it apart, making me
adjust myself to it. I shouted at my realization of where I was. In the
dungeon still, with Max awakening me by bending his knees and whacking
my shoulder with his cock. It was stiff still, making him ache with need,
but he could not serve us as we wished, because of the cameras. He
unbuckled the penis from my bottom-impaling belt. With cautious
squeezings of my heinie, feeling all sore and raw inside, I helped him free
me from the awful cock. He raised it up when it was finally expelled and
made me look at it in the light of the lamp. ÒYour shit is almost as pretty
as you are,Ó he told me sardonically. ÒLetÕs see what JillÕs looks like.Ó
With urgent helpfulness she contorted and contracted her fanny to assist
Max in withdrawing the dildo. Then he held up her contribution. Its odor
wafted out on the air. Max dropped the dildo in a bucket of water mixed
with alcohol to prepare it for its next bottom. Then he took the braided
whip and, not striking us hard enough to mar us, for we had been good, he
flogged our distended bottoms to revive them and get them back into
shape. Apparently he didnÕt want us opened too quickly. We churned upon
our pillows, clenching our heinies against the whip, tightening ourselves
as best we might as he threatened to strike us right in our hiney holes. He
left us confused and crying, our bottoms in a state no girl would ever want
anyone to see. Red marks of the lash burned across them and our holes
gulped in air, still breached and cloven from the sodomy. We wriggled like
fish in our bonds, suffering so, our tears flooding out over our cheeks,
wettening the seat of the couch beneath our faces. I longed for panties. I
had not worn them in days. To be safely wrapped up in them, even little
girl ones, with dumb teddy bears on them, would have been a relief for me
at this stage in my training. Even Underwear thatÕs Funtowear, that IÕd
chucked out my bedroom window some years back, to show my mother how
grown up I was, would be something IÕd have settled for now, as I lay over
the couch. Instead, not comforting me in the least, Max introduced his
penis to my mouth and made me suck it. I wanted to bite it, but all my
energy was being put into desperately trying to assuage my bottom by
moving it around. Jill was just as active, shaking her heinie like she was
the star of her own strip show, mouthing at the air with her lips. She let
herself enjoy an outburst of tears, not caring how unladylike she looked.
When IÕd been made to favor MaxÕs huge popsicle-like cock he took it over
to her, and she was put to it just as callously as I had. She did not offer
to ease his erection today. We hated him too much.
We were untied from the couch. We were taken upstairs, shaking
like children going for shots. Max had to help us walk. He put us to bed,
shutting the door behind us. Jill and I snuggled tightly into each otherÕs
arms. We spent the next hours consoling each other, whispering, nuzzling,
licking. At last in a frenzy of feminine lust we made each other cum. We
did it in 69, finding the strength at last to assume such a position, me
above, more frisky, she below, receiving me with motherly warmth. My
tongue fucking her, hers doing mine, we cried out our pleasure together.
Down below our open bedroom window Max worked with a weedeater, doing
his chores. His pole stuck up obscenely as he worked naked in the hot sun,
spinning out the line of his weedeater machine. I hoped he would cut his
prick off with it, but he didnÕt. Later he showered and joined us in the
bed, but we were asleep by then.
When night came we rose and swam together in the pool. It was lit
by starlight. Max retained his erection still. In the stillness of the night
we offered to help him get rid of it. We loved him more at night, I think,
forgiving his transgressions of the day. He relented at last. We took turns
sucking him beneath the surface of the pool until at last he added his own
liquid to the cool waters.
Morning came, and we shared breakfast again. We ate snacks
sometimes by the pool at night, but this had become our main meal. It was
best, Max said, to eat in the morning, so weÕd have energy for the day
ahead. Then he took us downstairs, this time selecting a cat oÕ nine tails
to keep us keen on obeying. Before taking to the couches, he made us sit
down on an unfolded towel. It felt fuzzy and soft against my trembling
heinie. I saw a bottle of baby powder sitting nearby, but I donÕt think it
was meant for us. I longed to reach out, take it, and pamper my fanny with
it. Instead I sat watching Max as he walked to the nightstand, his buns
tight as could be, his balls drawn up with new seed inside them, his penis
waggling like a dogÕs tail. ÒDong,Ó I said aloud, watching him walk back
toward us. Jill suppressed a giggle, unsuccessfully. We were giddy
suddenly, in our fear. I lay back on my elbows, let myself relax a little,
my eyes still on Max and his mighty organ.
Max held aloft a needle and I at once lost my sense of humor. ÒGirls,
this is Quinine, a muscle relaxant,Ó he told us, quite seriously. ÒToday you
will have to take the largest dildos yet, even bigger than yesterday, and
this will help you. I want each of you to inject the other with it, to show
your acceptance of what must be done to you. Of course, should you
refuse, we can begin with a well-laid on whipping. ItÕs why I brought the
cat with me today. Sometimes girls try to be brave and say ÔnoÕ to me.
ItÕs not a wise decision, and they soon regret it. But if you wish to try to
prove your mettle against me, go ahead. Otherwise,Ó he said, ominously
dangling the whip so that its tails tickled my nipples, ÒGet your shots.Ó
Alas! I had felt like a child going to the doctor this morning, and
now I knew it had not just been some idle premonition. Jill stood up,
brushed her hair back from her face, and took the injection needle from
Max. He handed her a bottle of alcohol and a cotton swab. Holding the
needle as one might a cigarette, she got the cap off the alcohol and wet
the cotton with it. I stood. I showed Jill my arm. I felt like running away
but I was so scared I felt my knees lock once I was up. I stood shaking, my
eyes wide, a rabbit in headlights. Jill was trembling a little too, for as
soon as I was done it would be her turn.
THE LAW OF PROPERTY
(continued from previous issue)
(part 3 of 4)
THE FEE SIMPLE DETERMINABLE
ÒDo you remember what a fee simple on condition subsequent is?Ó
Sam asked.
ÒYes, itÕs like when a feminist gives her land to the WomenÕs Rights
Association. If a whorehouse is ever built, her heirs may re-enter and
retake the land.Ó
ÒCorrect,Ó Sam said. ÒBut that would be such trouble, donÕt you
think, marching in there and retaking the land. Far better to convey the
land as a fee simple determinable. With a fee simple determinable,
FeministÕs heirs wonÕt have to re-enter the land to get it back. If a
whorehouse is ever built, the land will SPRING back, automatically!
ÒOr,Ó Sam continued. ÒIn our diagram, the land wasnÕt given by
Feminist to the WomenÕs Rights Association. She was feeling religious
that day, and gave the land to be used as a church. But she reserved a right
in herself (and in her heirs) to have the land spring back to her
automatically if the land should ever cease to be used as a church.Ó
ÒWell, that settles that,Ó I said. ÒIf you are a nice person, give a fee
simple absolute. You get nothing back and thatÕs that. If youÕre sorta a
cheapskate, give a fee simple on condition subsequent. You will be able to
re-enter the property and take it back if it isnÕt used in the way you
intended. (Provided you state the condition in the deed.) And if youÕre a
big time cheapskate, give a fee simple determinable. That way, the land
will spring back to you automatically if and when the land is no longer
used in the manner you intended. (Provided you state the limitation in the
deed.)
ÒExactly,Ó Sam said. ÒBut as a law student I must add yet another
refinement. We have been speaking of the fee simple on condition
subsequent. This is also known as the fee simple SUBJECT TO a condition
subsequent. While both are exactly the same thing, Mr. Powell, a noted
authority on the law of property, greatly prefers the latter title, because
it is so clear and explicit about what is happening. Feminist is giving her
land to the WomenÕs Rights Association, SUBJECT TO the condition that it
never be used as a whorehouse. And she is reserving to herself a right to
reenter the land and take it back if it is.
ÒNext,Ó Sam continued. ÒWe have been using the following words in
a deed that conveys a fee simple subject to a condition subsequent: ÔO to
A and his heirs, but if A ever builds a whorehouse on the premises, then O
or his heirs may re-enter the property and retake possession of it.Õ
ÒActually, Ôbut ifÕ is a rather weak term to use to create a fee
simple subject to a condition subsequent. ItÕs far better to say Ôprovided
that (no whorehouse is built),Õ or Ôupon condition that.Õ
ÒAnd there is yet another refinement,Ó Sam continued. ÒModernly,
courts hate to see a fee simple subject to a condition subsequent. So, if
Feminist really, really wants to create a fee simple subject to a condition
subsequent, she will have to use this wording: Ôupon EXPRESS condition
that.Õ
ÒOtherwise, the court simply views the condition as being a
covenant, NOT a condition,Ó Sam said.
ÒWhat does that do?Ó I asked.
COVENANT VS. CONDITION
ÒWell,Ó Sam said. ÒWith a covenant, Feminist canÕt reenter and take
her property back. All she can do is sue the WomenÕs Rights Association,
and hope to get some money out of them for breaking the covenant under
which she gave her land to them.Ó
ÒSo,Ó I said. ÒLetÕs say Feminist gives her land to the WomenÕs
Rights Association. But she doesnÕt say Ôupon express condition thatÕ no
whorehouse is built. She merely says Ôupon condition that.Õ As a result,
she can sue the WomenÕs Rights Association for money, but she canÕt
actually reenter the land and take it back.Ó
ÒRight,Ó Sam said. ÒFeminist might win a judgement in court
entitling her to what are called Ômoney damages.ÕÓ
ÒAnd letÕs say that happens,Ó I said. ÒWhat if the WomenÕs Rights
Association is broke?Ó
ÒThen,Ó Sam said. ÒFeminist has a judgement against them, but itÕs
pretty useless, because theyÕre broke. However, having only a judgement
against them, the WomenÕs Rights Association can go right on operating
their whorehouse!Ó
ÒAnd Feminist canÕt reenter and take back the land?Ó I asked.
ÒNo,Ó Sam said. ÒAll she has is a judgement for money damages
against the WomenÕs Rights Association, which is useless because theyÕre
broke.Ó
ÒCouldnÕt she satisfy that judgement by attaching the land?Ó I asked.
ÒYou know, force them to sell their land so they can pay her what they
owe.Ó
ÒWell,Ó Sam said. ÒIf the WomenÕs Rights Association is a charity,
they probably canÕt be forced to sell their land to pay a money judgement.
They can simply declare bankruptcy, and go right on operating their
whorehouse.
ÒHowever,Ó Sam continued. ÒFeminist might be able to get hold of
some of that whorehouse income. That, of course, would be pretty
revolting to her, getting money thatÕs been earned by whores.Ó
ÒSo,Ó I said. ÒAll the difference in those results is contained in one
word: express?Ó
ÒThatÕs right,Ó Sam said. ÒThatÕs the difference between Ôupon
condition thatÕ and Ôupon express condition that.Õ Both create a fee simple
subject to a condition subsequent. However, in modern times, Ôupon
condition thatÕ only gives Feminist a right to Ômoney damages.Õ But Ôupon
express condition thatÕ allows her to actually reenter the property and
take it back.Ó
ÒSo,Ó I said. ÒThat settles that.Ó
(continued next issue)
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-END OF 222 EMISSION