Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 98
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bottoms in Bondage
Chapter One
When SandraÕs husband strode up behind me I was still at the door,
futilely twisting its handle. It was, of course, locked. My heinie wriggled
with my frustration. My thin legs knocked their knees. I was feeling
really scared now. I was only 15! This marital bedroom was no place for
a young girl, a freshman with her breasts newly formed. God forbid that I
should have to learn to give milk through them in my sophomore year!
With a commanding slap SandraÕs husband whacked my heinie. I
leapt up, spun about, grabbed at my ass and held it with both my hands.
ÒGet your little fanny over there,Ó SandraÕs hubby snarled at me. He
pointed to the nightstand with all the intercourse equipment displayed on
it. I saw he was not a man to be reasoned with. Bowing my head I
scuttled quickly past him, then slowed my pace a little and walked
obediently to the table, holding my poor punished ass all the way. The men
laughed at me. I blushed. I was, momentarily, the absolute center of
attention, despite the presence of a full-grown, well-spread woman in the
room. Somewhere deep in my womb I relished this, though it had cost my
bottom.
Releasing my fundament I dithered a moment amongst all the scary
things, not knowing what to do with them. Dildos, condoms, oils, lotions;
cream to ease stiff joints and heating pads to warm exposed flesh, grown
chilly in the long hours of the bedroom that I imagined Sandra might spend
here.
ÒOhhh! I shouldnÕt know what to do with any of this!Ó I muttered to
myself, wiggling my tush a little in pent-up frustration. SandraÕs husband
had let me keep my hat on, at least, and instantly I was glad for it as a
light was switched on from above. I looked toward the bed to see where it
was directed.
The cunt, of course. SandraÕs. The uppermost portion of her inner
thighs and her well-furred nest were now subjected to an intense,
spotlighted glare.
Suddenly a wave of pity washed over me. With the brim of my hat
shading my brow, I stole a wettened towel and a lipstick from the table. I
kneed my way onto the bed and settled beside Sandra. Softly I wiped her
face, whispered consoling words to her. Carefully I applied my lipstick to
her mouth. She would look her best, if I could help it, despite the
lewdness of her enforced posture. Would someone give her lipstick when
she lay prepared for her abortion?
Sandra looked up at me with leaden eyes. But as I applied the
lipstick they cleared. Her vision strengthened. By the time I was done she
was looking up at me boldly, almost wantonly, as if to dare me to join her
on the bed. She mumbled something.
ÒShhh,Ó I replied, consoling her again, putting my finger to her lips.
I was Mistress of her now. ÒI wish I could free you, but I canÕt,Ó I said
softly. ÒYou must take the cocks, and please pump them dry so theyÕll
have absolutely nothing left for me.Ó
She nodded. ÒThankyou,Ó she breathed. She licked her lips lightly,
tasting her new lipstick.
ÒYouÕre welcome!Ó I replied, bending down on all fours and kissing
her on the cheek. I was unmindful of my bottom.
WHACK!
ÒYooch!Ó I leapt up again, another searing handsmack from SandraÕs
horrible husband searing my bottom.
ÒGod, what an ass she has!Ó he exclaimed to his fellows, watching
with them as I wriggled around on my knees, my back quite erect now, my
face screwed up with the pain of the blow. He was a heavy-hitter, that
was for sure! I waited to hear what my crime had been, but he said
nothing of that, merely ordered me to rip open SandraÕs tummy-binding
dress.
Most cautiously I bent over again, presenting my reddened bottom,
and yanked at mistressÕ ruined dress.
ÒShe will break a nail doing that,Ó my Master advised SandraÕs
husband.
ÒGet scissors!Ó He replied, giving me another ass wallop. I shot up
like a fish pulled on a line from the water, began sobbing at the
frustration of it all, not to mention the pain.
ÒMaster, please!Ó I implored him. He turned to SandraÕs husband.
ÒDo not hit her while sheÕs using the scissors,Ó he said.
SandraÕs husband nodded his agreement, looked at his wife. ÒNo use
giving her an abortion before sheÕs pregnant!Ó He chuckled.
Getting a scissors from the table I returned to my ex-mistress.
ÒDonÕt worry, IÕll try not to poke you,Ó I said. Carefully, keeping one eye
out for the safety of my hiney, I sliced through the remnants of her
wrecked dress. Freeing her from its girdle-like embrace (due to the
binding effects of the spilled liquor and the bunching of it), I pulled it out
from under her. I knew not what to do with it. I bunched it up and tossed
it off the bed, onto the floor. My own master picked it up and deposited it
in a flowered wastecan. Such a pretty dress. I should have liked to have
worn it myself, had it not been destroyed. It made me think of the baby
soon to be formed in her, only to be thrown away later. Such a pity. Yet I
myself did not want to see her spoil her pussy by shoving a baby through
it. Impulsively I bent down, licked her twat.
ÒYou taste like honey!Ó I exclaimed, turning my head toward her face.
My long draping hair teased her clit. She moaned softly, begged me to lick
her again. I did so, quickly, lest I give the men any naughty ideas.
Bounding off the bed, sprightly in my nudity, I approached my Master.
There was an Important Subject I had to discuss with him. IÕd put off
mentioning it, for fear it would provoke some depravity equal to the
shitting outdoors, under a blaze of spotlights.
ÒMaster, I have to pee!Ó I said, wriggling my hips as if to give my
words added emphasis.
ÒGood!Ó he replied. I stared wonderingly at him until his next words
were spoken. ÒAnd you will most certainly be allowed to, in good time,
but until then you will be our helper and do exactly as you are told. Now
salute me, like the good trooper you are and prepare to receive your
orders.Ó
ÒMy -- orders?Ó I asked, absently lifting my hand to the brim of my
hat in a sluggish salute.
SWAP! In came the swooping hand, that awful hand of SandraÕs
husband, and I was sent leaping up onto my tippiest tip-toe, howling like a
banshee and grabbing at my still-reverberating butt. I felt my ass cheeks
shiver in my hands, reeling from the blow. I bit my lip and stilled them
with my palms. Holding myself, I turned to SandraÕs husband. My breasts
poked their nipples at him. I would stab him with my little thorns.
ÒSalute smartly, but with your legs spread wide, not closed like a
regular soldiersÕ,Ó he said. ÒYou are a bedroom soldier, and will serve
nowhere else. Jut out your hips when you give your salute and, if your
other hand is free, splay your cuntlips to the man who is addressing you.
IÕll make sure you take orders properly in my bedroom even if I have to
flay your butt alive with this hand of mine to make it happen.Ó He showed
me his hand. He was a lumberjack. It was big and calloused.
ÒI wish you were an accountant,Ó I gulped, hoping to make him more
complacent with my back-handed complement. I found his hands
fascinating, particularly knowing how obedient they made me, even with
one simple slap. God forbid that I should ever be put over this manÕs knee!
How had Sandra ever managed it?
Her husband took my arm and turned me around, held me, as if
manipulating a child. WHACK! His calloused palm connected with my rear.
ÒOooooo!Ó I danced about the room, on my toes as never before,
clutching at my poor spoilt rear. It felt like it was on fire! ÒWhat have I
done wrong NOW?Ó I asked. Desperately I hoped to hear some crime
spelled out. My bottom would never last an hour if he whacked me any
time he felt like it!
ÒYou must call me and the other men Ôsir,Õ whenever we speak to
you,Ó he said casually. ÒAnd what else you must do will be spelled out for
you when you fail to think of it, so think hard, lest I bang your tail all the
way through to the other side of your body!Ó
Indeed, he might certainly do that, I realized. I went to my master
and grabbed his big shoulders. Incautiously, but needing to, I stuck out my
fanny to the cooling air. My master laughed, gazing down at my jiggly
heinie, made all the more wiggly by my need to pee.
ÒYouÕd better listen up!Ó he warned. ÒSandraÕs husband means
business when it comes to the important subject of fucking his wife.
Anything you do to detract from the experience will be soundly punished, I
assure you.Ó
ÒYes, master,Ó I sniffled, a tear running down my cheek. ÒI mean
ÔYes, Sir!Õ I corrected with unprecedented rapidity, standing tall and
whipping my hand up to my forehead in a perfect salute. My titties jiggled
like jello fresh from the mold. My hips arched toward his dong, beggingly,
my hand shooting down to properly splay my cuntlips.
ÒThatÕs better,Ó I heard SandraÕs husband cackle in the background.
ÒThatÕs the first swat youÕve avoided. LetÕs hope a bright girl like you can
keep it up, for your assesÕ sake! ItÕs tough to listen up in school if youÕre
forced to stand the whole period!Ó
Alas! They knew my real name, and apparently even my wonderfully
high grade point average, yet I knew not even any names by which to
distinguish them! Even my own master was still ÔMasterÕ to me. What a
hopeless mess IÕd gotten my poor tushy into. And my poor bladder!
Wriggling like a fish I next set about their next chore for me:
relieving the men of their urine! A bucket was pointed out to me, a simple
one made of metal, like gardenerÕs use. I presented it to each manÕs
bloated cock and he pissed into it for me. As I went from cock to cock the
bucket got heavier, but I was not allowed to empty it.
ÒYouÕll have to carry all our seed. You may as well get some practise
with our urine!Ó SandraÕs awful husband laughed.
Hefting the bucket with trembling hands, scared to death IÕd spill it,
I was ordered into another room. Alas! IÕd hoped it would be a toilet but
instead it was a small closet with, of all things, a window! At SandraÕs
husbandÕs instructions I dumped the contents of the bucket out the
window, onto some rose bushes. Poor roses! They would surely wilt from
all those nasty menÕs pee! I was told to leave the bucket in the closet.
When I returned, my duty done, the closet door was locked shut behind me.
Its key was placed up on a high shelf that I could not reach.
I did nursely duties next, taking SandraÕs pulse, blood pressure,
getting her temperature from her anus. (Fortunately the end of her bottom
overhung the piled-up pillows.)
ÒHave you ever started an I.V.?Ó Master asked me. He was
supervising my duties. His dick stuck out at me but I was denied it. It
was reserved for SandraÕs waiting womb. Her soon-to-be-ÔbabyfiedÕ
womb.
ÒNo, sir,Ó I replied, saluting him, thrusting out my hips, kneeling on
the bed, the rectal thermometer still in my hand.
ÒWell, then, this will be your first stick!Ó he said, and traded me my
shit-dipped thermometer for a drug needle. ÒShe will need fluid during
her ordeal. We may not feel like bothering with pouring her drinks.Ó
ÒI could,Ó I offered.
ÒShe needs the I.V.,Ó he replied. ÒYouÕll be busy getting the men up,
or keeping them up, or inspiring them to produce more sperm in their balls.
And we men will be too busy with her, or you, to bother.Ó
ÒEven for water?Ó
ÒEven for water.Ó
Alas! With trembling hands and a queasy stomach I moistened
SandraÕs upraised arm with a swab pad dipped in alcohol, concentrating on
the crook of her arm opposite her elbow. Above her wrists an I.V. bag
dangled, swollen with saline. Sandra threshed below me. I spoke softly to
her as I bound her arm with a rubber cord, tying off her veins to make
them swell for the needle. She did not hear me, wanting the attention of
drinks, not wanting the I.V. to reduce her to a mere cunt.
ÒOuch!Ó Sandra winced as I drove in the needle. I glanced down at
her. Glossy, wet-lipped, she looked as if she were some fashion model,
not a wife about to be fucked.
ÒPlease, IÕm trying not to hurt you!Ó I begged. The I.V. ran. It was in!
My first try, and I had avoided injuring her. I unbound the cord, let the
saline flow down her arm to her body. ÒYou have such small veins, IÕm
amazed I accomplished this,Ó I said, following masterÕs instructions as I
checked the I.V. to make sure everything was right.
ÒYou should have put my arm down first, let blood flow into it before
you stuck it,Ó she breathed.
ÒWhy didnÕt you tell me?Ó I asked.
ÒMy husband is a sadist, he wanted it done this way,Ó she replied.
ÒHe hoped youÕd miss many times before you stuck me.Ó
I shot a glance back over my shoulder, aware of my all-too-
vulnerable hiney. Wherever I went, whatever I did, it seemed to stick out
behind me, invitingly, inspiring these wicked me to want to do awful
things to it. But SandraÕs husband was smiling.
ÒYou are quite the little nurse,Ó he said. ÒI shall have to moderate
my handsmackings of you, if only to save your bottom for later fucking.Ó
Thanks a lot, Sir, I thought to myself. And if I ever, EVER see your
ass sticking out while youÕre, say, plowing your wife, and have a key to
get out of here, you will GET something you will never forget! I stole a
glance up at the whip hung neatly over the bed. Yes indeed, that would
serve my plan most effectively. God help me if I ever struck his balls
with it, though. No escape would save me then, even if I had a key. But a
butt-whipping he might put up with, if I surprised him with it and was
careful with my aim. Surprisingly, I realized, I was focused on the hairy
ass of SandraÕs husband instead of my masterÕs own, which was much
handsomer. Perhaps it was the reason her husband had given me so many
whacks, to make me think of him instead of anyone else.
ÒGit along there, little doggie, or IÕm going to have to give you some
encouragement!Ó I heard SandraÕs husband rasp behind me. Shiveringly I
tidied up the mess made from the I.V. and needle wrappers, the cord and
the wipe pad, and slipped off the bed. I threw away the debris, then
reported to SandraÕs husband for new orders. At least, while I was in
front of him, he couldnÕt whack my poor behind! So I had unconsciously
chosen to report to him instead of my own master. He smiled, seemed to
like that I was thinking of him more than my master, and told me to lube
up the menÕs dicks.
With fondling hands I prepared the men, oiling their penis masts
from stem to stern. Each one of them had a tough job ahead of him,
ploughing a woman while his cock was simultaneously constricted at its
base. The cock ring would hold back his seed until the final possible
moment, when at last, enraged with passion, he would spurt through the
restriction and impregnate her. I stared in awe at their greased poles
when I was finished, arrayed like soldiers themselves before me and my
hat.
ÒSirs, I salute your manliness,Ó I said, of my own volition, barely
suppressing a girlish giggle.
ÒNot in the book, but appreciated,Ó SandraÕs husband replied. I gave
each of them in turn a forward flip of my hips, showing my tight little
virgin cunt, offering the pink inside to penises I dared not take within me,
so awfully would the men have to rend Sandra before they finally achieved
their release. And then a thought occurred to me. I turned to SandraÕs
husband. My own was not even in my thoughts anymore.
ÒSir, out of pity only, may I whip your butts whilst you fuck? It
would give you a speedier release.Ó
ÒAh, again you speak and save yourself from punishment by the
quality of your suggestion,Ó he replied. ÒGrab the whip. Whack us as much
as you please, but if you hit our balls you will not be punished, girl, you
will be killed!Ó
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Nuevas Aventuras De M., Numero Dos, P.V.P. 125 Incluye Adhesivo. Mono
Grafico, Luan Mart, P.O. Box. 3003, 09080 Burgos (Spain).
Review: No, I didnÕt hit the wrong keys on my keyboard. What I
(hopefully) copied above was the title of the comic, the issue number, and
the price. Then, following that, the address. (With my luck itÕll turn out
to say ÒFuck You Clinton You Will Die,Ó and IÕll get a visit from the F.B.I.)
The booklet I THINK IÕm reviewing is called ÒNuevas Aventuras De
M.Ó However, the publisher refers to it in his cover letter as ÒTiras
Visuales.Ó
ÒWe will send to you with pleasure anything that you will ask,Ó
writes the publisher in his letter. I thought about writing him to see if
heÕd send me his daughter. Then I figured he might send me someone who
was too young and IÕd have to pay for all her shots and her schooling.
This comic is a collection of comic strips. Each strip is four panels
in length. None of the strips have any dialogue. They consist of gags in
which a man attempts to do something and then produces an unexpected,
comical result. For instance, in the first strip a man lights a cigar. The
cigar produces a cloud of smoke. The cloud produces thunder and lightning
and rains on the manÕs head, putting out his cigar.
Some of the strips are unintelligible. Most do work, but one is left
wondering, ÒWhatÕs the point?Ó The point, of course, is that this is this
particular artistÕs vision. The art could be considered fairly crude, but
the booklet is very nicely produced. It is printed on slick paper.
I enjoyed getting this booklet and perhaps you will too. (I wonÕt
keep it, though. ItÕs simply too trivial.) Mono Grafico is keen to trade
with other artists and if youÕd like someone to trade your zines with, and
to receive overseas mail from, this is a worthwhile self-publisher to
contact.
AND IN THE END...
BILL CLINTONÕS RECORD ON CIVIL RIGHTS
A military jury in San Antonio has acquitted a female U.S. Air Force
major of charges of sodomy. Maj. Debra Meeks was accused of having a
lesbian relationship with a civilian. Meeks, 41, faced up to eight years in
prison if convicted.
- from Reuters, August 16, 1996.
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 98 EMISSION