Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY
                                              Issue No. 271

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                               Bush League

                                             Chapter Three

         ÒYouÕre a slut and a lousy shot,Ó I told her.  ÒAnd donÕt get any in my 
hair.Ó
         ÒYour hair on your head or your muff?Ó Cheyenne asked, and she 
launched her scoop right at my private.
         ÒYikes!Ó I exclaimed.  I watched as her scoop flew across and landed 
right where sheÕd aimed it.  I found myself looking at a big ball of ice 
cream right on my delta.  Slowly it slid off and plopped like a turd to the 
floor.  Behind it left a runny smear of strawberry in my pubic hair.
         ÒAlright, my turn, wise ass,Ó I told her.  In answer, Cheyenne turned 
around and happily mooned me.
         ÒSome ice cream would feel good on my bottom!Ó Cheyenne said 
invitingly.
         ÒOkay, youÕre going to get it, then,Ó I answered.  I tossed well, but 
she flinched at the last moment.
         ÒNo fair!  You have to stand still,Ó I told her.
         ÒRats,Ó Cheyenne said.  ÒI didnÕt mean to.  It just happened.Ó  She 
resumed her salacious pose.
         ÒI want to play too!Ó Polly cried.  But she was stuck in her swing.  
She could not get out of it without someone lifting her out.
         Cheyenne and Brent and I ignored her.  I wanted to have my second 
shot.  I scooped, aimed again, and plopped my ball of ice cream right on 
CheyenneÕs left cheek.
         ÒOooch!  ThatÕs cold!Ó Cheyenne shivered.  The ice cream fell to the 
floor, leaving a smear in its wake that was white.
         ÒAt least this way youÕll get a white bottom,Ó I told her.
         ÒMy turn!Ó she replied.  She made me stand still and we continued 
like this, back and forth, until we were both covered with splats of ice 
cream.  Twice we hit each other on the boobs, and once I struck her in the 
face, not meaning too, but aiming too high for her tits.  Polly bleated all 
the while that she wanted to join us.  Finally we bombed her with ice 
cream, just to make sure she was as messy as we were.  She almost cried, 
but held back her tears, knowing it was just in fun.  Brent rubbed himself 
the entire time.  I feared he might cum but I didnÕt really care.  I was more 
worried about what was happening downstairs with Louis.
         ÒWell, thereÕs only one way to clean up ice cream that I know of,Ó 
Brent said.  He pointed to a small childÕs bed in the corner of the room.  
ÒYou and Fleury go and lick it off each other,Ó he told Cheyenne.  
         Cheyenne, enjoying her nudity and with an eye toward the promise of 
BrentÕs erection, crossed over to me and took my hand.  ÒLetÕs make up,Ó 
she said.
         ÒAlright,Ó I replied.  We kissed.  We did it for Brent.  She took my 
face in her hands and we wiggled our bottoms as our tongues touched.  I 
felt her nipples perk to mine.  Polly, still unsatisfied, begged to join us.  
Cheyenne took my hand and led me over to the bed.  I waited while she 
turned down the covers.  Then we both slipped into it.  We kissed again, 
briefly, and then I stretched out on the bed.  She knelt beside me.  She 
smiled at me.  I smiled back, waiting for her tongue.  I glanced at Brent.  
         ÒPlay with yourself,Ó I encouraged him.  I wanted him to cum so we 
might escape downstairs.
         ÒAlright,Ó Brent answered.  ÒSee if you can make me cum.Ó
         ÒOooh, IÕm tired of swinging!  I want OUT!Ó Polly moaned.
         ÒQuiet, girl!  Stick your finger through that hole in the front of your 
swing and play with yourself right along with me,Ó Brent ordered her.
         ÒOooh, this is naughty,Ó Polly said, discovering for the first time 
that there was an extra leg hole in her swing, unused.  She reached over 
the front of her swingseat and poked her finger at her slit.  
         ÒYouÕre still a slut,Ó I said to Cheyenne.
         ÒI know, but IÕll bite off your nipples if you call me that again,Ó she 
said softly to me.  She lowered her face to my tits and began licking them.  
I sighed.  I parted my legs more widely and her hand slid down my creamy 
belly to my cunt.  ÒYou taste good,Ó Cheyenne told me.
         ÒThanks,Ó I answered.
         I shivered and turned my head on its side.  What an unusual room we 
were in!  Some awful pedophile must have designed it, for it was, in 
effect, a playroom for very small children.  There was the toy cabinet, 
made of plastic.  There was the swingset, with twin swings, designed for 
infants, except with bigger seats.  There was a childrenÕs table, low to the 
ground, with small seats designed to hold little childrenÕs bottoms.  I saw 
Play-Doh, rattles, pacifiers, lying about aimlessly, waiting to be picked up 
and played with.  But also there were dildos, of varying sizes and designs.  
Plus condoms, casually laid out so they might be picked up and used at a 
momentÕs notice.  Off in one corner there was a baby pool, already 
inflated, with a hose stretching out from a faucet in the wall so it could 
be easily filled.  Within it, waiting, were water wings, a toy telescope, a 
pinwheel, and a plastic boat.  Beside it stood the de rigueur bottle of Mr. 
Bubble, housed in a bottle shaped like Winnie the Pooh.  Underneath the 
baby pool was a big fluffy towel, laid out, for obviously any girls who got 
into the pool would make splashes and toss water out of the pool.  The 
floor itself was softly carpeted, to protect the little bare feet that were 
sure to scamper across it.  Above, a skylight allowed the sun to brighten 
the room naturally.  We might have been outside in the yard but, given all 
the opportunities to fuck, we were instead in a private attic, sound-
proofed, with the trap door locked securely.  It would be our word against 
BrentÕs as to what happened here, and I guessed his would win.  We were, 
after all, just little girls, werenÕt we?
         Cheyenne slurped her way down my belly.  I glanced down at my tits.  
They were sparkling clean, save for the saliva left behind by her tongue.
         ÒYouÕre doing a good job,Ó I shivered.  Her fingers lightly played 
along my slit.  
         ÒThanks,Ó she answered.  I opened my legs a little wider.  Despite my 
misgivings about being here, I couldnÕt deny I was enjoying myself.  I 
stroked my fingers along CheyenneÕs thigh.  She shifted a little.  ÒNot yet,Ó 
she teased.  She shifted her hips away from me so that I could not reach 
her slit.
         ÒWhat do you want me to do to you?Ó I laughed.  My bosoms bounced 
nakedly on my chest.
         ÒIÕm going to take you right to the brink, and then youÕre going to do 
me,Ó Cheyenne said.  She lifted her face from my body to speak to me.  
There was ice cream on her nose.
         ÒYouÕre wicked,Ó I said.  I did not want to be aroused and then left 
hanging.
         ÒYouÕll tongue me very nicely if youÕre desperate,Ó Cheyenne said 
happily.  She saw my hand edging toward my cunt in response.  ÒNo, donÕt 
play with yourself,Ó Cheyenne warned me.  ÒIf you do IÕll find a whip and 
flay your bottom, and ask Brent to help me.Ó  She grabbed my hand by the 
wrist, lightly but firmly, a finger on her hand extended as if she were 
holding a teacup, and moved my hand away from myself.
         ÒWhat, are you the domme?Ó I asked her, a bit surprised.  She was 
the newest girl!  She had not even met Branson yet.  
         ÒYes, I am the domme, at least for now,Ó Cheyenne said to me.  She 
placed her face over my tummy and swirled her tongue round my navel, 
once, then ran it directly, in a continuous line, right down my belly and 
through my pubic mound to my slit.  She beavered into me and I shuddered 
uncontrollably.  I gritted my teeth, smiling, and bucked up my hips.
         ÒOhhhh, please donÕt,Ó I begged.  I didnÕt really want to be here with 
Brent.  I didnÕt want to let myself go like this.  IÕd just wanted to get him 
to cum, and then escape downstairs.  But now I was sinking into the abyss 
of pleasure, and anything might happen to me now!
         Brent came to our bedside and stood over us and massaged himself.  I 
looked up, then Cheyenne.  ÒPlease donÕt shoot on us,Ó I begged him.  I 
didnÕt really want a semen shower.  He reached down and pushed Cheyenne 
off me.  She toppled back and landed on her bottomcheeks.  SheÕd been 
kneeling over me, but she let him roughly push her back, as if she were a 
rag doll.  She sat with her legs open and her slit showing.  I think she 
wanted it more than I did, despite the licking sheÕd tantalized me with.
         ÒGet up,Ó Brent told me.
         ÒOh, please,Ó I protested.  Lying underneath CheyenneÕs attentive 
tongue was, I was sure, much better than anything Brent had planned for 
me.  But he took me by the arm and yanked me up from the bed.  I stood 
shivering beside him, naked as he was, warily eyeing his cock.  HeÕd 
undressed since Cheyenne and I had taken to the bed.  He ordered me over 
to the toy cabinet.  What was he thinking?
         ÒFind me a nice pair of dildos,Ó Brent said to me.  I glanced about.  
There were a few lying about, intermixed with the toys someone had left 
out, but I guessed he found those unsatisfactory.  I opened the toy cabinet.  
Well, there were none here, I realized.  But drawers down below held out 
some promise.  I began opening them and soon found one full of dildos, all 
laid out in a pile, like sausages, with a red velvet handkerchief underneath 
them.
         ÒPick two,Ó Brent said quietly to me.  ÒThey need to have studs on 
the end so they can be clipped into the holes on the infant swing.Ó
         He spoke quietly.  I bit my lower lip and tried to suppress a smile.  
Cheyenne had gotten up from the bed and gone to Polly and was swinging 
her.  Polly, whoÕd spent the last five minutes complaining that she wanted 
out of the swing, was now ordering Cheyenne to push her higher and higher.
         ÒWHEEE!  Go higher!Ó I heard Polly yelling in the background as 
Cheyenne, her tits swinging, dutifully pushed on PollyÕs seat.  I found two 
well-sized dildos for her, with the proper studs, and plucked them from 
the drawer.  Polly would be giving quite different orders in a minute.
         Cheyenne, perhaps sensing mischief, stilled PollyÕs swing as I turned 
and approached them.  Polly gazed at me with childish eyes, big, round, 
unknowing.  I walked easily, feeling quite tingly in my slit thanks to 
CheyenneÕs licking, swaying my hips sexily to excite Brent.  I was getting 
into the mood of the moment now.  IÕd stopped thinking about escaping 
from the attic.  With a leap of my heart I realized that Brent, or perhaps 
Cheyenne, had lofted PollyÕs hands up high over her head and fitted them 
into cuffs.  The cuffs hung down from the overhead pole of the swingset, 
the horizontal pole, where the swing itself was attached.  I felt my 
nipples grow harder as I realized little Polly, quite nude in her swing, 
would be utterly at my mercy.
         ÒWhat are those for?Ó Polly asked me.  I dangled the two dildos 
temptingly before her eyes.
         ÒTheyÕre for you,Ó I laughed.  ÒPolly, youÕre going to sit in the Seat 
of Doom!Ó
         ÒNooooo!Ó Polly shrieked.  But Cheyenne put her hands to PollyÕs 
little ribs and held her tight in the seat.  Polly wriggled, watching, as I 
placed the first dildo against her slit.  There was a hole in her seat, her 
slit plump against the opening.  she was utterly at my disposal.
         ÒMmmm, youÕre wet, Polly.  Have you been playing with yourself?Ó I 
asked her.
         ÒNooo,Ó Polly gurgled, watching me with big eyes.  Brent handed me a 
jar of vaseline.  How thoughtful of him.  How forgetful of me not to 
remember it.  Quickly I larded the dildo with vaseline, sticking it into the 
jar and then drawing it out.
         ÒPleeeeaze,Ó Polly gasped, watching.  It was a nice big dildo and 
would plug her quite well.
         ÒThis is only the first of two, Polly,Ó I laughed.  ÒThe second one 
goes you-know-where.Ó  Cheyenne laughed with me.  Polly screamed, like a 
little girl might, playing at the pool.  I pushed the dildo right into her.  She 
was tight but my dildo was well greased and sheÕd wettened herself my 
being naughty in her swing.
         ÒOooh, ooh, ooooh,Ó Polly gasped, each gasp a little yelp.  The next 
thing I knew, Brent, our ever-handy man, was passing a penis shaped ball 
gag to Cheyenne.  The girl accepted it eagerly and wrapped it over PollyÕs 
gasping mouth.  
         ÒGooooo,Ó Polly moaned, fighting the gag.  But Cheyenne got it right 
in and buckled the head strap on her.  I fitted the dildo entirely within her 
moist slit and latched it onto the clasps on the swingseat.  Next I took the 
second dildo and, burrowing it in the vaseline, I proceeded to jam it up her 
bottomhole, right through the convenient hole that had been cut in the 
seat.  
         Polly was beside herself.  All three orifices of hers were plugged.  I 
found the butt dildo the hardest to get up her but I persevered until the 
task was done.  Cheyenne began swinging Polly when IÕd finished.  We 
looked amazing.  Tanned, healthy, with ice cream smeared over ourselves 
but our hair still pretty.  Polly wriggled in her seat, utterly captive, 
utterly unable to escape.  What a pretty picture she made!  Brent began 
fisting himself furiously.  I turned to him and touched a finger to the head 
of his cock.
         ÒYou, sir, are a pervert,Ó I told him.

                                              ZINE REVIEWS
                                                by holy joe

PlayboyÕs Nude Playmates, $6.95.  e-mail:  newstand@playboy.com

         Review:  When I grow up, IÕm going to build my very own gay 
bathhouse.  But it wonÕt be for gays.  It will be for girls only.  (And me.)  I 
know it will be popular, because in this special issue of Playboy I see that 
many, many girls are already practising to become members of my 
bathhouse when it opens.
         Jennifer Lavatory (oops!  Lavoie) is all set with her small metal 
bucket, her sponge, and some bubbly water (pgs. 76-77).  And, most 
important, sheÕs already taken her clothes off, but checked her hair, 
makeup, and lipstick to make sure theyÕre perfect.
         Angel Boris and Priscilla Taylor (cover and pgs. 1, 3-5) are a little 
worried.  They tried to pee in the potty with the door closed.  (This is rule 
number one:  ÒNo peeing behind closed doors.Ó)  (Do you think IÕm going to 
consign myself to views through a surveillance camera?  Not likely.)  So 
they both have to get spankings.
         Suzi Simpson is preparing to meet me.  SheÕs pouring white stuff all 
over herself (pgs. 64-65).  Some guy at Tower Books told me itÕs milk, but 
I know better.  
         Naughty little Shae Marks (pgs. 70-71) is eagerly looking forward to 
the opening of my bathhouse.  SheÕs all set to run away from home and 
come join me as soon as itÕs built.  SheÕs got her backpack all packed and, 
of course, sheÕs leaving her bra, panties, and the rest of her clothes 
behind.  (Her backpack is full of condoms and KY jelly!)
         Rachel Jean (Mar)teen (pgs. 66-67) is eager to join me too.  But 
every time she thinks about me, she wants to hop right into bed!  (Rachel, 
honey, my bathhouse is here in San Francisco.  You need to come here and 
THEN weÕll get into bed.)  (Ah well, some of these littler girls get things 
sorta confused.)
         Now I want to make one thing very, very clear.  There is one policy 
above all at my bathhouse:  NO WOMEN.  I know, I know.  In this age, 
everything is women women women women women women women women 
women women women women women women women women women women 
women women women women women women women women women women 
women women women women women women women women women women 
women women women women women women women women women women 
women women women women women women women women women.
         But I believe in diversity.  So at my bathhouse, itÕs Ògirls ONLY!Ó  IÕd 
call my bathhouse ÒKids Only,Ó but AOL already took that title.  (Plus, I 
donÕt want any horny boys showing up.)
         Some of you, reading this, my say, ÒFuck him.  HeÕs just some 
pervert.Ó  Well, letÕs review a fact or two.  FACT:  Earlier this year, I 
reviewed the magazine, PlayboyÕs Lingerie Model Search.  (What Playboy 
refers to, at the back of PlayboyÕs Nude Playmates, as Òthe March (1997) 
issue of Playboy Lingerie.Ó (pg. 96).  FACT:  I said that the two prettiest 
girls in PlayboyÕs Lingerie Model Search were Kristine McFadden and 
Jacqueline Marie.  I especially liked Jacqueline Marie because she looks 
12-years-old.  
         FACT:  On pg. 96 of PlayboyÕs Nude Playmates, the Marines of Alpha 
Company 1/8, aboard the U.S.S. Nassau, write to Playboy.  Guess who THEY 
say the prettiest girls are in PlayboyÕs Lingerie Model Search?  ThatÕs 
right!  Kristine McFadden and Jacqueline Marie !!!  And the entire company 
of marines signed their letter to Playboy, just like the Founders signing 
the Constitution of the United States of America.  
         Feminists, Christians:  in the case of the Marines of Alpha Company 
1/8, we are not talking some little dweeb sitting in his dumpster.  We are 
talking the United States Marine Corps!  Yet they agree with me when it 
comes to females, and I agree with them.
         So, please.  Next time youÕre talking to your daughter, or your son, 
and youÕre about to say, ÒDonÕt mind that FUCK DECENCY guy.  HeÕs just 
some pervert.  There are a FEW of those in this world, and soon weÕll have 
them all locked up.Ó  Uh, uh, ladies.  If youÕve got a problem with me, 
youÕve got a problem with the male species, in general.  
         Sure, your neutered husband may agree with you.  But thatÕs because 
you keep his balls so thoroughly milked his brain doesnÕt work right 
anymore.  REAL guys, like me, know the difference between right and 
wrong.  Right is liking Kristine McFadden and Jacqueline Marie (who looks 
12-years-old).  Wrong is you, your fucking opinions, your fucking laws, and 
your fucking government.
         BEGONE, women!  Even in mythology there is a time when women run 
loose, terrorizing the society, and causing great harm to men.  But their 
time passes.  Your time will pass as well.

                                             AND IN THE END...

                                A THOUSAND CHILD MOLESTERS !!!

ÒHe had a daughter,
Chione; she was lovely, and she had
A thousand suitors, more or less, though hardly
Into her teens.Ó

- Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book Eleven, lines 301-304.


-------------------------- 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 271 EMISSION
- If youÕre wondering what inspired me to write the story ÒBaby 
Pussy,Ó it was the photos of Kristine McFadden in PlayboyÕs Lingerie 
Model Search.