Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 27
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Love Child
Chapter Twelve
We were driven into a deep, lush jungle. Soon the asphalt underneath
our vanÕs tires had passed into a deeply rutted dirt road, more suitable for
donkeys than anything else. The guard up front laughed, watching us, as
we were treated to a tit jouncing ride. I tried to keep my arms covered
over my breasts but several times they just popped out, the van jolted
about so much. I glanced back once at Tiffany and she sat listlessly,
letting her boobs fly where they may, resigned to what lay before her.
Like me she wore a neck iron, with a less than flattering bracelet of iron
around each wrist. Below she had one around each leg, just above the
knew, and I knew her ankles were in shackles too. I call them iron but
they were stainless steel, actually, but they looked so much like irons one
couldnÕt help but think Òin irons,Ó when seeing us. Chains trailed off each
of TiffanyÕs wristlets over to the wrist bracelets of the girl next to her.
But our ankles were not chained, and I could guess why. It was so our legs
could be moved or spread as wide apart as our captors wished. They
wanted no hindrance to their ability to ravish us.
Who, I wondered, were we going to see? Was it one man, a grandee,
or a cabal of criminals, each to have each one of us in his own way. Five
and half weeks. I guess I had plenty of time to find out!
We passed into a villa. It was strong-walled, like some fortress.
Cheryl whispered that it was an ancient Mayan temple, converted to
modern, though no less primal, purposes. From the spookiness of the deep
jungle we seemed to slip into a kind of sun-drenched palisade. Suddenly
we were on a closely clipped lawn, with flowers in the distance, bordering
a giant house. It was adobe, or concrete painted to look like it, with a
red-tiled Mexican roof. All around us you could see the jungle canopy, but
inside this little oasis the sun flooded in, and I was glad to see it. The
van bumped to a halt, a final tit throwing jolt of the brakes by the driver,
and he looked in his rear-view mirror as he did it. Several dark-skinned
men, uniformed like our van guard, closed quickly around our vehicle. They
all carried guns. One of them slid open the vanÕs passenger door.
ÒStep lively!Ó our guard yelled as us as we filed out from the side of
the van. We were lined up outside it, told to fix our hands at our sides.
Presenting our titties, all our nipples anxiously erect, we shivered in the
sunlight as a senior guard stalked in front of us. White bodies trembling
before cruel, darkskinned men. He seemed eager to find fault with us,
glaring at our flawless bodies, something that would let him lay a hand on
us. Finally he addressed us.
ÒLadies, you will march up to the villa, lifting your knees high.Ó He
brandished a whip as he spoke. ÒMarch quickly, but keep your steps short.
Trim and neat. The main thing is to get your knees up properly with each
step, as this is how the grandee wishes to see you. He may be watching
from his window, and it will be my job to correct any of you who do not
march as IÕve told you. Every army has its special march, and you must
learn yours. The grandee will not have any slouching or sloppiness
amongst his female slaves. You need not worry about cutting sharp
corners, or twirling about to march to the rear, but you will march
crisply, lifting your knees high, demonstrating your obedience and your
willingness to obey. You may be dressed like a chain gang, but you will not
shuffle along, unwilling, sulky, as prisoners do. You will march proudly,
fillies of the grandee, going eagerly to him to be broken in or used as he
sees fit, always proud, chins lifted, arms at your sides, breasts naked and
ready to suckle his many children. Or to do anything else he requires of
you.Ó The guard seemed to want to say more, all in a thick Spanish accent.
I think he would have rambled on all day, gazing at us, but he could get
away with no more. We were to be delivered now, out of his hands and
into those of the grandee.
ÒMarch!Ó the guard hollered suddenly. Off we went, all squeamish
and huddling. Two of the girls were slow to get going, got swift-learning
cracks on their seats that got them marching properly. As for myself, I
got the hang of it right away, as did Tiffany. She was right in front of me,
Cheryl behind, Amber next and little Sylvia trailing, her legs smaller, so
that she had difficulty keeping up. Our titties jumped with our nervous
steps. Up and down and up again, each step firmly executed, but
hurryingly, for the guards frightened us terribly.
We marched single-file up the steps that fronted the mansion, then
into the cool shade inside. Down a broad hallway we went, passing a
brown-skinned maid, two more, they looking on at our white-skinned,
delicate bodies, tut-tutting in disapproval.
ÒDrugs, you know,Ó I thought I heard one whisper to another. Fat
women they were, all suited up in long frilly aprons and caps, women
whoÕd borne many children, gazing at girls whoÕd borne none. With our flat
bellies and big round titties we passed them, our bottoms still small,
with that compact heart shape that men cherish and that does not last
past the first child or, with luck, persists perhaps until the second comes.
Virgins we were to the true labors of love, the labors of the delivery
room, which these women had no doubt been forced to repair to as young
as 15, or 12 perhaps, losing quickly the beauty of their youth as they
faithfully brought forth young for their husbands. Skinny legged and slim-
limbed we passed, our ribs still sticking out, barely fleshed, our hip bones
still alluringly revealed, thin white girls with only flesh on their bosoms
and bottoms, charmingly placed.
ÒThe grandee will fix them,Ó a woman whispered. ÒTheyÕll leave
big-bellied.Ó And then weÕd passed beyond, further down the hall, and I
couldnÕt remember whether IÕd just interpreted Spanish words theyÕd
spoken, knowing the language not, or actually heard them whisper in
English what I thought theyÕd said.
With panicky, high-stepped steps we went finally into a large
chamber. There a man sat, on a chair, at the head of a table. But the table
ran along the far wall and his chair was turned toward the near wall,
toward us, we having just passed beneath an archway to come through it.
ÒGreetings, girls,Ó a guard standing beside the seated man thundered.
ÒPlease kneel and bow to your new master, the grandee Solanos!Ó There
were soft little mats on the floor, pastel colored, some light yellow and
others of other shades. Smooth, finely spun cotton for our knees and
faces. We bent down, our chains clattering noisily. Onto my knees I went
with the other girls. Then, squeamishly, we pressed our faces to the mats
and lifted our bottoms high.
ÒVery good, girls. But you must do it the other way,Ó the guard
laughed. Mortified we looked up at him. Our long lovely hair spilled round
our heads, onto or over our shoulders. We looked alternately pensive,
penitent, shocked, humiliated. With a crack of the guardÕs whip upon his
thigh (alas! he had one just like the other!) we jumped up. Round we filed,
turning our backs to the grandee. Then we knelt again, and offered him our
bottoms.
ÒHigher, girls! Spread your knees! Let your cunts be seen, for that is
what you are here for!Ó the guard yelled lustily, happily, his thigh foreign
voice coming from deep within his chest. I jutted my peach out like the
other girls, showing my pouch as best I could. Then the guard came to us
and passed behind each of us, tapping us each on the cunt lightly with his
whip handle. I shivered as he touched me, visibly, and he whistled softly
in admiration.
When our bottoms had been duly admired, approved of, we were
ordered up again. I thought perhaps we could face away then, hiding our
breasts at least, but no, we were commanded to turn around again, and all
stiff-nippled and trembling we faced our master once more.
He had gray hair, swept back off his high forehead. His chin was
long, jutting. He wore a fine suit, as if heÕd dressed up specially just for
us. His eyes were piercing but not hard. I felt myself falling under his
sway as he looked specially at me, examining each of us in turn with his
eyes.
ÒYou have done well, Tiffany,Ó he said at last. ÒI see you are one
short but you have more than made her up with the substitute youÕve
brought.Ó He told us to sit down then, to fold our legs underneath us and
sit on our heels. Smoothing the little towel reflexively with my hands I
knelt down upon it, like the other girls. We stared at him, our eyes
unknowing, frightened still.
ÒI enjoy your apprehension but I want you to take something to help
you settle down,Ó the grandee said. ÒNo use wasting your energy on being
nervous. YouÕll need all you can muster later. This will make you a little
high, and it may act as a slight anesthesia also, to help you through your
first day. I wonÕt force you to take it but I highly recommend it.Ó The
guard walked over to us as he spoke. Before each of us, onto the mat, the
guard threw a syringe and a band of rubber tubing. With hesitant eyes the
girls glanced at each other. Then Tiffany, by way perhaps of example,
picked up the syringe and tied off her arm with the rubber cord. She held
the syringe elegantly as she knotted the cord, as one might a cigarette.
Then she depressed the syringe slightly, playfully aiming it in my
direction. With a renewed earnestness she put it to her arm. She flinched
slightly as the needle went in, her mouth opening in a little surprised O.
Then, her sleek fingertips driving the drug home, she injected the entire
load. She blew softly through pursed lips as she withdrew the needle.
ÒWould you like help, dear,Ó she asked, turning to me. With my tits
trembling nakedly, feeling very exposed, I fumbled with the syringe, not
sure whether I wanted it or not. If it would help me forget this awful
place, not know what horrid things they did to me, but then... ÒCome dear,
you must,Ó Tiffany said. She tied my band onto me, knotting it firmly. She
told me to make a fist and flex my arm. Then, taking my syringe, she
aimed it carefully at one of my little blue veins in the crook of my arm.
ÒThere!Ó she said, giving me a little jab. ÒIt will make you hot and horny
and youÕll want whatever they do to you, instead of feeling sad and sorry
for yourself.Ó
I felt a warm glow begin to well up from my belly as the guard
passed back in front of us, picking up our syringes. Playfully two girls
shot their used rubber cords at him, but he didnÕt mind. I felt an itching in
my cunt, subtle at first, then more, becoming like a kind of small fire
wavering over my clitty.
ÒOooh! I can feel it already,Ó Cheryl said, putting her hand to her
cunt and rubbing it.
ÒDo not touch yourself,Ó the grandee snapped in a loud voice.
Bashfully she withdrew her hand. SheÕd done it without even thinking,
suddenly, impulsively. Like some naked little girl, untutored, unmannered,
kneeling with the other girls in a kind of nude playtime before the sultan.
No doubt we would have all been rubbing ourselves, just like her, if he
hadnÕt reminded us of our manners. I could feel the drug working within
me already, shaping my observations. I delighted in my nudity. I wanted
to be with these girls, and in front of Him, looking at him as he looked at
me. Then the drug subsided a little and I regained some of my mental
composure. We were in trouble now, nude and drugged and far away from
any help. What would he do to us? I clenched my fists, unclenched them. I
was afraid once more, but fires danced on my titties, on my clit. I wanted
to run but I had the awful knowledge that I was too aroused to.
The guard came over to Tiffany, tossed her a silver key. ÒThe
grandee thinks its safe for you to unlock yourself and the others now,
Tiffany,Ó he said.
ÒYes, unlock yourselves!Ó the grandee called to us. ÒI want to see
you girls without anything on at all.Ó Tiffany undid our chains then,
kneeing her way from girl to girl and unlocking us each in turn. When the
cuffs fell away I stretched happily. Beside me Cheryl sprawled out on her
mat like a cat.
ÒSit up, girls! Sit up!Ó the grandee called, and we hastily arranged
ourselves as before. ÒNow, I am not entirely unfamiliar with the female
body. ArenÕt you girls forgetting something?Ó We stared at him. ÒDonÕt
any of you have to go to the bathroom?Ó
The thought rippled through us. Of course! Why, yes! WeÕd been so
distracted by everything, and now by the drug, that weÕd completely
forgotten about our bladders. Like some patient awaking from a dream, or
sleep, I realized I had to go quite badly. But where was the bathroom?
And would we be allowed to use it? My face took on a baleful look. Not a
few of the other girls looked equally distressed. The grandee surveyed us
serenely. Now he had us right where he wanted us. ÒI want you to pledge
to me that youÕll be totally obedient to my wishes,Ó he said. We nodded
hastily. He motioned to his guard. The man told us to raise our right
hands.
Our titties hanging delicately from our ribs, upthrust and plump, our
bottoms wobbling with our anxiousness and our full bladders, we repeated
the pledge of eternal love to the grandee:
ÒI promise to always obey Grandee Solanos,
ÒTo offer him my breasts,
ÒTo offer him my hole,
ÒTo love his cock,
ÒAnd to thank him when he corrects me.Ó
The fact that our minds did not exist to the grandee bothered me a
little. I wondered if it bothered the other girls too. I mean, I was an
accomplished student. Tiffany had just graduated from college. We were
professional women. Well, not in that sense, hopefully. But certainly we
American women must be respected for our intelligence too, mustnÕt we?
Unfortunately my urge to pee kept me from raising these objections.
When we finished we sort of glanced at each other. We were all
feeling quite naked and vulnerable, more so than even before. It was like
weÕd just been led unwittingly past some barrier, and none of us knew
what lay beyond. We were in the grandeeÕs hands now.
A mexican woman came out, her face and hands broad and swarthy.
She wore starched clothes of white muslin. Before each of us she dropped
a broad, shallow golden bowl. It reminded me of an offering plate at
church. When weÕd each been given a plate the woman, standing off to one
side of us, crossed her arms and looked at us.
ÒPee!Ó she said. At first we all just looked at her. ÒPee!Ó she said
again. We realized with horror what she wanted us to do. ÒPee!Ó she said
it again. Obviously this woman would have benefitted from a vocabulary
enlargement course. With fumbling hands we took the plates. We spread
our knees wide and wedged the plates between them. I myself didnÕt want
to open myself up any wider than I had to for this woman. It felt like I
was completely bared to her, though, even more than I was. Like I was
about to offer my very soul to her. And, indeed, it must be the last shred
of dignity that is torn away when a girl is forced to urinate like this, in
public, in front of strangers. Particularly people from strange lands who
seemed to exude a kind of self-righteous holiness. As if we white girls
deserved what we were suffering.
I put my fingers to my cunt, even as the other girls did the same.
And then a period of waiting ensued. Awful waiting. Having to go and not
being able to. Right at the outset the grandee warned us that any of us
who failed to pee right away would be considered baulky and punished for
it. This was hardly helpful. Gulping nervously, shivering, we waited.
The woman circled round behind us.
ÒAAAH!Ó Tiffany cried suddenly, and fell to all fours, her hands
slapping loudly onto the floor. The woman had drawn forth a whip from
somewhere within her mighty garments and given Tiffany a stinger right
across her naked bottom with it. Fearfully I gulped, looking over my
shoulder at the woman, as she approached me. My bulbing cheeks stuck out
at her, all pinkly white and shivery. Suddenly I peed.
Thankfully I looked down at myself, unbelieving. I thrust my cunt
forward helpfully, watching the golden, luxurious stream as it arced into
the bowl between my knees. Behind me the woman, just missing her
opportunity, glared and went on to the next girl.
But now Cheryl peed to! And Amber and lastly little Sylvia, all four
of us peeing at once and loving and relishing it. Hastily Tiffany got back
on her knees and began peeing with us. The grandee laughed. The guard
laughed. Only the woman, stern faced, did not laugh.
When we were finished guards came in and took away our bowls.
They sloshed with our essence. The grandee warned the guards not to spill
any of it. Another woman came in as the guards left, heavy and
unattractive like her sister, and dressed similarly. She had a pile of soft
white towels on a tray. They steamed. She handed one to each of us and
we took it gratefully. The grandeeÕs principal guard, standing beside his
master, told us to wipe ourselves. I cleaned the smattering of pee
splashings from the insides of my thighs. Then I rubbed my cunt with the
hot towel. The other girls too held their hot towels to their pussies,
massaging themselves, and it quickly became apparent that although we
were quite clean down there we were going to make extra, extra, extra
sure.
ÒEnough!Ó the grandee said. He motioned to his foremost guard to
take away our towels from us. WeÕd been told not to play with ourselves
but had tried to trick him anyway. With anxious hands I gave up my towel,
worrying that IÕd earned some special punishment.
ÒNow,Ó the grandee announced. ÒI must not keep you girls to myself.
My people would be jealous. I must present you at the village, so all my
people can enjoy you just as I do.Ó With that, guards came in and
reshackled us. As we remained erectly on our knees they pulled our wrists
behind us and fixed them together. I looked down at my breasts, so large
and defenseless, the cherry nipples hopelessly erect.
TO MOLEST OR NOT TO MOLEST?
The Holy Bible has the answer!
by holy joe
Dear Joe, I am a very old man. There is this young girl in my
neighborhood who wants to lie in my arms. What should I do? - David in
Delaware
Dear David, I have asked our Lord God to point me to a passage in the
Holy Bible which will answer your question. He gave me divine guidance,
through his infallible word, and here it is:
ÒKing David was now a very old man, and, though they wrapped
clothes round him, he could not keep warm. His attendants said to him,
ÔLet us find a young virgin for your majesty, to attend you and take care of
you; and let her lie in your arms, sir, and make you warm.Õ After searching
throughout Israel for a beautiful maiden, they found Abishag, a
Shunammite, and brought her to the king. She was a very beautiful girl.Ó
- 1st Kings 1:1-4.
(Thanks for asking the Lord instead of Oprah Winfrey. Belive it or
not, it is better to consult our Holy Bible in these matters, instead of a
talk show host. - h.j.)
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