ÒI would sing of boys
Loved by the gods, and girls inflamed by love
To things forbidden, and earned punishment.Ó
- Ovid
(damn pervert! weÕll kick him off AOL too!)
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 269
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Three
Not content with bolting us down to the logs, or tying our hands, the
men next fixed spreader bars to our ankle straps. They used these poles
between our legs to keep them wide apart. I had one between my legs, a
good three-footer, spreading my legs right up to my hiney, and Cheyenne
had one, and Polly, who was now blubbering, got one also.
ÒPee right where you are if you have to, I donÕt care,Ó Louis told
Polly.
ÒOkay, I WILL then!Ó Polly declared, though her tears.
ÒWell?Ó Louis asked. The girlÕs bottom shivered but she delivered no
pee.
ÒNow I donÕt have to,Ó Polly gulped.
ÒYou never did,Ó Louis replied. ÒExtra strokes for you my dear Polly,
for being a liar!Ó
ÒIt was just a likkle fib,Ó Polly pleaded. Tears rolled anew down her
wet cheeks.
ÒBye, I love you,Ó Cheyenne said. She was closest to me and she
turned her head to me.
ÒBye bye,Ó I replied, shivering, for I knew we were just seconds
away from our torment. The men hefted their whips behind us and swung
them into the wind and commented on the possibilities of their uses.
Meanwhile, not to limit their enjoyment in any way, they stripped off
their clothes and stood buck naked behind us, enjoying the sun on their
cocks, their balls. They were fully erect and promised to ream Polly and
Cheyenne and I most astutely once theyÕd finished punishing us.
Louis bent over me and kissed me. I felt his dangling cock bounce off
my heinie.
ÒI love you,Ó he whispered to me. ÒAnd I love your bottom. ThatÕs
why IÕm going to whip it.Ó His finger was under my chin and I lowered my
mouth quickly and caught it between my lips. I sucked hard, but I did not
bite him, I did not bite.
Andre gave Polly her goodbye kiss. And then they both kissed
Cheyenne, making me feel just a tad jealous, despite my fears.
Louis got behind me and caressed my bare fanny. His cock bobbed
just behind its spheres, tempted, but wishing to see me punished by the
whip first. After heÕd touched me with his hand he picked up the
implement heÕd chosen to start off with, a soft leather whip with thin
cords. Deceptively he brushed it over my ass, touching me with it in soft
warm caressing movements, as if it were a sponge instead of a whip.
Then, abruptly, he stood. Andre, whoÕd been playing with PollyÕs ass, stood
also.
ÒWeÕll share Cheyenne,Ó Louis told Andre.
ÒSounds fine with me,Ó Andre said.
ÒLetÕs see which of us can make them cry the most,Ó Louis
suggested.
ÒTheyÕre already crying,Ó Andre replied. And we were, though I at
least tried my best not to. I knew it would hurt and we would not be
spared.
When we rode through the Indian village at dusk they turned out to
watch our jeep pass. Louis drove slowly, as a hunter might, showing off
his catch. Polly, Cheyenne and I could not sit. We were bound over the
back seat, our asses high, still frigging ourselves to try to assuage away
the pain that theyÕd inflicted, Louis and Andre, high up in the mountain
crags, amidst the daisies. We were red-faced, sobbing. Our tits swung
with every movement of the jeepÕs rolling wheels. Polly gasped anew as a
fresh orgasm seized her. It was our only hope of relief. Our bottoms, sore
and ruthlessly cloven by our boyfriendÕs pricks, red as the sunset, offered
us no respite. Only our fingers could, working constantly at our slits.
WeÕd been fucked anally, not in our pussies, perhaps purposely, so weÕd
still be playing with ourselves when the jeep drove down from the
mountain. I knew we were making a spectacle of ourselves. I heard an
Indian woman laugh. Young children giggled. They knew we were being
naughty. They did not know of whips or penises but they knew girls must
not rub themselves. Even the littlest girls knew that. Yet here we were,
big girls by comparison, and we were frigging ourselves, and they could
see by our bottoms that weÕd paid for our naughtiness. What they did not
know was that we had not frigged ourselves and then been punished for it.
WeÕd been punished, despite our goodness, erotically punished, and weÕd
had to frig ourselves as our only hope of taking our minds off our bottoms.
Rose received us back at the castle with hugs and kisses. We were
bathed and put to bed, all in my room, so we could console each other. The
men had not bothered to put salve on our bottoms but Rose did, after our
bath.
ÒStop playing with yourselves, girls. ItÕs over,Ó Rose told us before
turning out our light. Then she clicked it off, shut the door, and we cried
ourselves to sleep. Downstairs, Louis and Andre smoked cigars and
regaled Rose with our torments. I heard her tinkling laughter through the
open window, LouisÕs gruff descriptions. I could not hear his precise
words but there was no question he and Andre were telling her about their
day.
In my dreams, after IÕd fallen asleep, I saw Rose make love to Louis
and Andre, and I know my dreams were true.
ÒSuch bad little girls!Ó Rose scolded, waking us at first light. I was
hungry. IÕd not eaten all the previous day, and had quite forgotten about it,
after my spanking up in the mountains. She served us breakfast in bed. We
ate like spoilt children, the three of us all in a row. Our covers were
pulled up to just below our breasts, letting our nipples show quite
naughtily, but we revelled in the naughtiness, not caring, and Rose did not
mind either. She left her own breasts bare so that we would feel more
comfortable in her presence. We were all females. We ate with our
fingers and she helped us drink our cocoa, lifting our heads for us so that
we would not spill it on ourselves.
As I sipped my cocoa, feeling so special and cared for, I felt my
bottom against the smooth white sheet. Just the pressing of the sheet
against it made me wince a little. I heard Polly whimper as she shifted
within the bed to better accept her cocoa. And Cheyenne, our newest
friend, mewled out a sulky little whine.
ÒMy, such pampered little girls,Ó Rose chided. She wiped my chin
with a napkin. IÕd let a little of the cocoa escape my lips. ÒYou receive a
nice punishment and all you can think to do it whine about it.Ó Polly,
despite her bottom, eagerly opened her mouth and vied, like a little kitten,
for a sip from my cup. Rose gave her a taste and Polly greedily drank down
the rest of my portion.
We were not harmed. No, just reminded every moment of how our
bottoms had been treated. Whipped, with all manner of implements, all of
them carried aloft into the mountains by poor Polly, the littlest of us.
As unnecessary and unpleasant as our whipping had been, the ride
home had been even worse. Sitting was, of course, out of the question.
Even we knew that. So the men had simply dumped us over the back seat
of their jeep and strapped us down to it. Fortunately, perhaps to show
they were not utter brutes, one of them went to the trouble of uncovering
a coil of soft rope. HeÕd rummaged around in the jeep until heÕd found it. I
didnÕt see who. I was too busy crying.
Our upper thighs had rested against the seat back, not our hips. This
was to permit our hands to freely frig ourselves. It was a necessity. I
donÕt think I could have borne the ride back if it werenÕt for my busy
fingers. Even hiking down the mountain, forced to carry the very packs
that had precipitated our distress, we had to play with ourselves. All
three of us, myself, Cheyenne, and Polly, had traipsed down the
mountainside with at least one hand busily fondling our slit. Meanwhile,
the men followed, leering at our bottoms. Their loins were utterly
satisfied. They had pried their way into our clenching bottomholes with
their Ômeat-packer pricks,Õ as they called them, and it was hardly a wrong
name for them for I felt more stuffed than a Christmas turkey when Louis,
who had to work at me for quite some time, finally got his awful Thing up
me. I could not relax with the severity of the strapping heÕd given me.
HeÕd had to fight his way into my nether hole, while I screamed and kept
gyrating my bottom and clenching and squeezing it, trying to throw off the
scalding burns from the strap.
The air, passing over our upraised tushies on the ride back down, had
proven a welcome relief. I remember wiggling my ass at the sun, not
caring if it tanned me, hoping to somehow cool down my bottom in the
wind.
The men deposited our backpacks in the small bed at the back of the
jeep. My chin bounced on my backpack as they drove us home. To the
castle. It was our home now.
ÒIt hoits!Ó Polly had sobbed to me as the sun set.
ÒKeep rubbing!Ó IÕd shouted back to her between my own sobs. A
moment later sheÕd crooned into orgasm. The wind blew through our hair,
streaming it out beyond our faces. Our backs flexed as we worked
ourselves into orgasm after orgasm. We were very wet girls by the time
we got back to the castle.
ÒThere. BreakfastÕs all done,Ó Rose announced a little later. She
laid down her knife and fork. WeÕd all eaten from the same silverware. It
was easier that way. Polly smacked her lips.
ÒMmmm! I liked my eggs,Ó she declared.
ÒLetÕs just hope the eggs in your womb donÕt like all the sperm
thatÕs been pumped into you,Ó Rose replied. ÒI havenÕt been keeping up on
your pills like I should have.Ó
ÒItÕs okay. I was fucked up the butt yesterday,Ó Polly replied. She
spoke quite frankly, as if telling teacher sheÕd caught a frog in her palm,
or memorized her multiplication tables.
ÒAnd how was it, darling?Ó Rose asked, caressing PollyÕs face. The
girl looked down. Her eyes gazed at her nipples. I watched as the tips
hardened.
ÒIt was...bigggg,Ó Polly answered.
ÒAndre fucked you?Ó Rose asked.
ÒMmm hmm,Ó Polly nodded. She bobbed her chin. ÒHe was weally big
but I just kept bearing down, like he told me, opening my bottomcheeks as
much as I could. Except, it was hard to breathe Ôcause his penis actually
pushed the air right out of me!Ó Polly exclaimed.
ÒIt always feels that way when a man fucks you, up the bottom I
mean,Ó Rose said. She stroked PollyÕs blonde hair. She lifted a strand to
get it out of PollyÕs eyes. ÒYouÕll get used to it, darling. And as for you,
Fleury,Ó she said. Her eyes met mine even as she continued playing with
PollyÕs hair. ÒLouis wants you put into a butt-harness. You know, the
little item I told you about earlier. YouÕll wear it all day from now on at
the castle. He insists he wants you more accessible.Ó
I bit my lip. I did not want to be... altered. Rose knew my
apprehension and, as if to console me, she slid a finger into my mouth. I
bit down on it. I sucked it and looked up at her with wide eyes.
ÒSome men wish to have their girls made more receptive, using such
a device,Ó she explained simply. I was aware of Cheyenne, next to me,
swallowing. Her throat was dry. Our cups were empty. She was
swallowing fear. Polly said nothing. She listened, watching the tips of
her nipples. She knew no such device was intended for her. Andre liked
her just as she was.
We bathed and tidied up in the bathroom. Then Rose took us
downstairs to show our bottoms to the men.
Trooping into the parlor, I was amazed to see we were not alone.
Rose had preceded us by a few minutes. She sat interviewing a young
mother and her husband. With them were their two daughters. They were
moppets, kindergarten-age, squirming in their seats and oblivious to what
their mother and father were discussing.
ÒIÕll want daycare for the children,Ó I heard the motherÕs voice say.
She turned and saw us. Polly, myself, and Cheyenne were utterly nude.
Louis and Andre were seated on the sofa in their tuxes and we marched up
to them and turned around.
ÒOooh, theyÕre naked!Ó one of the womanÕs moppets exclaimed.
ÒTheyÕve been bad, girls,Ó their father told them. Their mother
would have shushed them, I think, but her face was ashen and she was
sitting very stiffly beside her husband.
ÒWe have nursery facilities on the premises,Ó Rose said to the young
mother. She was writing on a pad. ÒSo youÕve not had enjoyable sex since
the birth of the twins?Ó
ÒNo,Ó the father of the moppets answered.
ÒIt happens sometimes. A female gets pregnant, becomes a mother,
and then feels the pressure of her new babies. IÕm sure it was especially
true in your case, with twins. But thereÕs no reason you canÕt both resume
an active sex life. Sometimes the woman just needs to be reawakened.
We have all the necessary things for that here. As you can see, we help
young girls get in touch with their bodies all the time here.Ó
ÒYes,Ó the young mother answered. The father looked at us with an
interested eye.
I felt Louis palm my bottom. It didnÕt hurt too much, except his hand
was calloused and their roughness made me flinch.
ÒOh! You spanked me too HARD yesterday,Ó Polly told her boyfriend
Andre. Louis laughed. Cheyenne stood between us, waiting her turn, just
as sheÕd had to wait for her turn yesterday upon the mountain. At least
today the hands passing over us were consoling ones.
ÒBend down,Ó Louis told me. I leaned forward and reached down and
grasped my ankles. He pried apart my nether cheeks and examined my hole.
ÒI told her weÕd begin widening it today,Ó Rose said to Louis.
ÒGood,Ó he answered. He pressed the pad of his pointing finger
against my hineyhole.
ÒI donÕt want mine made bigger!Ó Polly said, as Andre made her bend
over, and Cheyenne too.
ÒAnother year and weÕll do it, maybe,Ó Andre mused. ÒOr perhaps IÕll
have you branded back here. DonÕt squeeze your cheeks so. IÕm trying to
see into your hole.Ó
ÒI know! ThatÕs why IÕm trying to squeeze it shut!Ó Polly blurted, but
the prying of AndreÕs fingers finally won out and he treated himself to a
close examination of her. Polly wiggled, rocking to and fro on her heels,
an impatient child waiting to be let up. Her breasts swung freely under
her chest. I wondered if weÕd been ruined at all by our ride back home in
the jeep. Our tits had swung like fruit in a windstorm, jounced and
jostled by the jeep. WeÕd been without bras, of course. WeÕd not brought
any. WeÕd ridden unprotected, despite the best efforts of our mothers to
keep us in training bras from the minute our breasts had started growing.
I looked at mine. They seemed okay. Louis reached out and passed his hand
over my dangling nipples. He liked them, anyway. He plumped my breasts
in his palms and for a moment I thought he would rise up and unzip himself
and take me right there, in front of the two little girls.
Perhaps he might have, but Rose uttered his name and his hands
slipped away from my tits and he slapped my flank to make me stand up
again.
ÒYou do not mind if your wife is fucked by others?Ó Rose asked the
husband of the young mother matter-of-factly.
ÒNo,Ó he answered. His eyes were on us. Three underage girls with
our tits wobbling and our bottoms quite well-spanked. The twin little
girls giggled. One of them lifted her dress and began playing with herself.
ÒDonÕt,Ó their mother said. She slapped away the girlÕs hand. But
the little one went right back to frigging herself, and her sister soon
followed.
ÒNo harm will come to my daughters?Ó the wife asked.
ÒThey will be returned to you as virginal as they are now,Ó Rose
smiled. ÒGirls,Ó she said, addressing them. ÒThe reason the big girls
across the room got spanked is because they played with themselves like
youÕre doing now.Ó
ÒOoooh! I donÕt want a spanking!Ó the one who had started the game
of frigging announced. She withdrew her hand from her panties. Her
sister copied her, pulling her hand up quickly and abruptly.
ÒThatÕs better, girls,Ó Rose told them. Their father nodded at them
approvingly.
Never mind the Redeemer...
I KNOW THAT MY FTP SITE LIVETH !
Many of my former America Online ftp site stories have now been
posted to the newsgroup alt.sex.stories
Quite a few of these stories have never been seen before on
alt.sex.stories
The list begins with Love Child, and ends with A Mansion for
Masochists. When complete, the last story will be Chambers of Love.
Please note that Chambers of Love should actually be read before Love
Child, as it was written first.
Some of the posts are quite long, 70 pages or more. They could take
a while to open. All of the posts should be virus free.
During this time period all of my stories may be reposted throughout
the Internet, so feel free to put them on your BBS if you wish, or your ftp
site, or your web site, or your non-profit-oriented CD ROMS. It is okay to
print my stories in non-profit-oriented zines as well. (This is gratuitous
on my part, and may be withdrawn at my option at any time.)
AND IN THE END...
ÒHis mischief and his laid-back irony were unwelcome in that
earnest age. Victorian sensibilities were affronted by the themes of
his stories: rape, murder, incest, sex changes, torture, cannibalism. No
wonder Shakespeare liked him.Ó
- The Economist (on Ovid), May 10, 1997, pg. 84.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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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 269 EMISSION
- Ovid: Metamorphoses, Book 10, lines 152-154.