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From: Andrew Roller <roller66@inreach.com>
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Subject: FUCK DECENCY 267  Bush League  (nnd)  g2

Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY
                                              Issue No. 267

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                               Bush League

                                             Chapter Three

         GLUG GLUG GLUG could be heard in the room.  The guests had
ceased eating.  We all watched with fascinated eyes.  Cheyenne gasped as
she felt the liquor run from the funnel straight into her hiney.  
         “I-I don’t want tooo,” Cheyenne offered, but her protest was
ignored as more liquor gurgled its way down the oil funnel and into her
upthrust tushy.  Cheyenne’s eyes widened, glazed, widened again.  I know
she must have been feeling the effects of the liquor as it communicated
its potency through the walls of her rectum and up to her head.  The
fluid remained in her bowels, like liquor in the tummy, but the effects
of it could be felt in her brain.  
         “Alright, now stand up,” Bambi ordered when the bottle was
empty.  Cheyenne stood.  She wobbled a bit on her feet but then came to
herself.  She was a little drunk, but still quite aware that she was
nude, in just a corset and booties, in a roomful of strangers.  Rose
took fruit from the table and, with Bambi’s help, the two of them
sprinkled it over Cheyenne’s breasts.  Meanwhile, the girl was jamming
her asscheeks together, striving her best to contain the fluid in her
bowels.  As soon as Rose and Bambi were done decorating her they
launched her into the crowd.
         “Go, serve them, but don’t lose your enema,” Rose and Bambi
told poor Cheyenne.  In the back of the room more guests entered, seated
themselves, and Cheyenne walked with wavering half-steps toward them. 
So far she was keeping her enema inside her.  I crossed my fingers and
prayed for her.  How embarrassing it would be for her to spill it right
out there amidst all the new diners.  
         “Now for Polly,” Rose said.
         “Oh, pwease!” Polly begged.  But I pushed her over to them and
they upended her just as ruthlessly.  Her jamming asscheeks were pried
apart.  Rose handed Bambi a small china plate piled high with slit
grapes and chocolate bon bons and pitted cherries.
         “Help me, Fleury,” Bambi told me.  Unsure of my own fate, I
squatted behind Polly and took hold of her asscheeks and pulled them
wide apart to allow Bambi to stuff her butthole with the fruit.  
         “You’ll make a most scrumptious dessert,” Rose assured Polly. 
The girl shuddered and sighed but, curiously, did not fight us.  I think
we were all excited by the prospect of intermingling with all the
handsome men in the crowd.  They wore dark suits and ate with beautiful
women beside them, yet their eyes were upon us mostly, absorbing our
every movement, unsure when or if they’d get another chance to see such
young females being put through such horrid ordeals.
         Cheyenne gave a heart rending cry as a woman she presented her
breastful of fruit to chose to tickle her cunny as she mouthed fruit
from her tits.  
         “I can’t hold it if you do that, ma’am!” Cheyenne begged.  She
was standing with her legs apart, but her ass jammed together in back,
desperately trying to hold in her enema.  She wanted to cross her legs
but that was, of course, quite forbidden.  At the castle one of the
first rules we’d been taught was to never cross our legs.  Cheyenne
screamed a little scream as the women kept on tickling her.  The woman
cared not the least about Cheyenne.  She simply wished to entertain
herself.
         As I watched, my bed mate found herself unable to hold in her
liquor under the relentless assault.  There was a sudden cry of
surrender from her.  Shivering right down her spine to her toes, her ass
cheeks tremored and released their load.  A shower of shit-colored
liquor burst from Cheyenne’s hiney and spilled all down the backs of her
thighs and into her boots.
         “Noooo,” Cheyenne cried out remorsefully, for she and I had
spent so much time getting ready upstairs, doing each other’s makeup,
hair, carefully making ourselves perfect, and now she was spoilt,
nothing but a girl with diarrhea.
         “How unpleasant,” the woman who’d been tickling her sniffed. 
“Go serve the others.”  Cheyenne walked miserably to the other guests
and let them mouth fruit from her breasts in turn.  When she reached the
last one, a woman, the lady took her over her knee and began slapping
her bare ass with her hand, which was gloved in kid leather.  Cheyenne,
formerly just runny at her rear, was now forced to offer up tears as
well.
         Shivering at her fate, listening as she bawled, I turned my
eyes back to Polly’s bottom.  Bambi was busily filling it up with all
the fruit on the tray.
         “Oh, it’s too much!  It’s going too far up!” Polly whined.
         “Be still, Polly!” Rose ordered.  The girl waved her bottom
about but I kept a firm grip on it and kept her cheeks apart.  She was
not as resistant as in the past.  I think the castle was slowly breaking
her in, changing her from a little crybaby into a woman.  Bambi pushed
fruit after fruit through her layer and cream and into her hole.  There
was a little gap in my handiwork now, where I’d squirted her buttcrack
with the cream.  Like a chipmunk storing food away for the winter, Bambi
relentlessly kept plugging Polly’s bottom with more and more fruit.  And
the bon-bons also, which had gone up first because they would melt
within her body, while the fruit would have to be removed by human
intervention, unless we were simply willing to wait for Polly’s next
poop, which I knew we were not.
         When Polly was quite full behind, Rose stood her up.  She
turned the girl around.  I was told to pull Polly’s thighs apart in
front and I obeyed.  Rose handed Bambi a long banana.  Polly watched
wide-eyed, me keeping her legs open, as Bambi peeled the banana.  Then
Bambi bent down and intruded it into Polly’s pussy.
         “Oh, I can’t TAKE anymore!” Polly hollered, for she was already
quite full in back and the banana would plug her quite completely,
filling her up for dessert-time.
         “You must, Polly,” Rose replied.  She gripped the girl’s bare
shoulders and made her watch as Bambi eased the banana up her, going
slowly so as not to hurt her.  It possessed an exemplary length.  Polly
would be well-fucked, by nature, if Bambi succeeded in getting all of
the banana up her.  
         As it turned out, most of the banana made it inside.  But a
little protruded out, its white tip looking like a little penis.  Polly
touched it.
         “I have a penis!” Polly said.
         “So you do,” Rose laughed.  “I wish I had one, even a little
banana one like you do,” Rose admitted.  She looked at me.  I remembered
our conversation in the bedroom.  I smiled.  I let go of Polly’s legs.
         “Go show off your new penis, Polly,” Rose told the girl.  She
pushed her toward the guests.  They watched, bemused, as this slip of a
girl, just 13, came tip-toeing toward them, her feet bare, wearing a
seductive cream bikini.  In front, she offered them a boyish view of a
banana cock, while in back she had to keep her asscheeks together lest
the fruit stuffed into her begin popping out.
         “Mmm, let me lick your little penis,” a woman said to Polly. 
She reached out and grasped the girl by her hips.  She drew Polly toward
her.  Bending her face down, she tongued Polly’s banana just as she
would a cock.  A little boy’s cock it would have to have been, for Polly
showed only the tip of the banana, the rest jammed up inside her.
         “Ohhhh,” Polly moaned.  I thought it must have been exquisite
for her to be presented this way.  The woman’s tongue, confining itself
to her banana, did not touch her directly.  Polly sleeked a hand across
her tummy and I knew she wanted to touch herself.  But she did not.  She
let the woman lick her banana, the husband watching, other guests eyeing
her from all around, savoring their dessert, waiting politely for their
turn at her.
         Cheyenne howled and was let up by the woman who’d been paddling
her fanny.  She stood sobbing, holding her asscheeks with her hands, and
the woman reproved her for making a mess of herself.
         “Oh, I’m sorry!” Cheyenne moaned, but of course it wasn’t her
fault, even though the woman told her it was.  A man took the poor girl
and toppled her over his knees and began spanking her.
         “Boo!  Hoo!  Hoo!” Cheyenne cried, but there was no stopping
her spanking.  How rude to spank her again, I thought, but Rose took
hold of me and turned me toward her.  I drew in my breath expectantly
and felt my bosoms rise on my chest.
         “Oh, please don’t make me do this,” I pleaded.
         “Shush, dear, it is nothing.  A little playing, that’s all,”
Rose replied.  She squirted my nipples with chocolate syrup.  All the
work I’d done upstairs to make myself look my best, and now I was being
used as a scoop of ice cream might be, my breasts decorated with syrup
that made me instantly, if seductively, messy.
         Rose squirted chocolate syrup into my navel.  I giggled.  Then
she lowered her bottle to my pussy.  She looked at my eyes.
         “Ready?” she asked, standing before me, I her disciple. 
         “No, but--” I began.  Smiling, I looked down and watched with
bashful eyes as she squirted chocolate syrup right into my pretty nest. 
“Oh!” I exclaimed.  How naughty I felt.  How my mother would
disapprove!  Rose decorated me like one might a cake, making my nest all
chocolaty and then moving down to do the same to my cunt.
         “Now, turn around,” she told me.
         “Oh, Rose!  You must NOT!” I giggled, almost beside myself at
the prospect of what she was going to do to me.  Yet I let her, with the
help of Bambi, turn me around.  Bambi bent me forward a little so that I
presented Rose with my ass.
         “Many call it the ‘chocolate chute,’ so...” Rose said.  She let
her voice trail off as she poked the tip of the syrup bottle into my
hineyhole.  
         “Oh please Rose, not back there,” I asked one last time, but in
answer I felt my guts get a jet of chocolate right up them.  Rose
laughed.  The crowd, watching, laughed.  Rose squeezed the bottle again
and more chocolate jetted up my ass.  I heard a man smack his lips. 
Either what he was eating was very good, or he was anticipating me.  It
was the latter, I knew.  In the distance Cheyenne howled.  There was no
stopping her spankings.  Each diner seemed to want to have a crack at
her now.  I guessed she’d not be sitting at dinner, that was for sure,
whenever we finally got to eat, instead of just being eaten.  Polly, I
saw, turning my head, was having her banana cock nibbled away.  There
was nothing left but her slit now, the extruded portion of banana was
gone, eaten up.  Inside, though, I knew she carried the remainder, and
now the guests would begin the more invasive job of mouthing that out of
her.
         “There!  You’re a chocolate bunny!” Rose said.  She was
finished shooting up my bottomhole with syrup.  I felt quite full in
back.  Mercilessly she pushed me toward the crowd.  My turn.  Where were
Louis and Andre?  I could not find them.  I was alone, with only Rose to
protect me, but she had just violated me.  Polly whined as a hungry
woman gnawed at her pussy.  I heard a little grape pop out of her and
bounce off the tiled floor.           
         I wandered up to the first guest.  “Do you like chocolate?” I
asked her.  Her husband grinned and she let him have me.  He turned me
around and bent me over and stuck his tongue rudely into my hiney.
         “Oh, sir!  You DO like chocolate!” I cried.  For answer he
raped me with his tongue.
         When we were quite despoiled, and all our fruit and cream and
syrup dug and licked out of us, were were put side-by-side on a table. 
Our backs were laid on the tablecloth, with linen napkins piled under
our heads to give us a little comfort.  But our hips were left to dangle
off the table.  Each man who wished to was fitted with a condom and
brought to stand between our legs and fuck us.  As we were fucked, Rose
fed us our dinner.  Baby food, so that in our crying and gasping we
would not choke on our food as the men fucked us.  Then we were taken
upstairs, bathed, and put to bed, all three of us in my room.  As I
drifted off into an exhausted sleep I could hear the party continuing
downstairs.  I think Louis and Andre entered then, and were the delight
of the dinner’s wee hours.  They demonstrated their manly spirit upon
the women, their husbands being all spent, just watching, as bull-like
Louis and Andre fucked each of the women in the room.  Their cries and
moans emanated upstairs, putting me to sleep.
         In the morning I was the first to awaken.  I slipped into my
bathroom and freshened myself.  As I returned to my bed I found Cheyenne
and Polly waking up.  Polly scooted herself off my bed as soon as she
was conscious and ran to the bathroom, like a little girl, to pee. 
Cheyenne, a bit older, smiled at me, and excused herself.  When Polly
was done peeing I heard Cheyenne remind her to flush the toilet.  Then
Cheyenne took her turn upon it.
         As the girls freshened themselves I looked with renewed
interest at the pole behind my bed.  I got on my bed and, kneeling at
the headboard, I unhooked it from the wall.  I lifted its heavy length
and locked it into place.  Then I stood up.  I put my mouth to the soft
rubber ball that angled up from it, mounted on a second post.  I felt
the ball fill my mouth.  I pressed my face hard against it, so that I
could hardly breathe.  I concentrated on inhaling through my nostrils
and, at the same time, I reached behind myself and opened the cheeks of
my bottom.
         I hand at the canopy of my bed.  Turning my head, I thought it
was just Cheyenne, or Polly.  To my heartbeating surprise, I saw it was
Louis!  He put a finger to my back and ran it down my spine.  He
continued on to my bottom.  He poked inbetween my cleft cheeks and
touched my hole.
         “I hear you got quite a licking back here last night,” Louis
said to me.
         “Yeth,” I mouthed over the ball.  He lifted my arms up.  He
locked them to the back of my collar.  He fastened my collar to the
front of the post.  He positioned my legs wider apart on the bed.  My
bare feet planted themselves firmly and I waited while he undid his
trousers, freeing his cock, then his belt.
         Polly interrupted us.  With a finger at her lips she asked,
with inquiring eyes, “Oh, Fleury!  What are you doing?  I thought you
were going to come play with us in the tub!”
         I heard Cheyenne drawing the bath water.
         “In a minute,” I said.  I watched as Louis doubled his belt.
         “Go take your bath,” Louis told Polly.
         “Yes, sir,” Polly gulped.  And she saluted him, dear girl. 
Then she scurried out of sight.
         I tensed my cheeks.  They felt so cool and white and normal in
the morning air.  Did I really want Louis to turn them into a ball of
flame?  I don’t know.  I watched with my eyes as his tantalizing cock
swayed out of view as he got up on the bed behind me.  I could not see
him now.  I switched my eyes to a mirror, placed strategically so a girl
could watch her tormenter and learn to love him.  Louis’ cock dangled
from his loins like a snake poised to strike.  He ran his fingers across
his cock and then over his doubled-up belt.  I think we were both tense
now, he and I.  His erection showed no sign of abating until a female
had been sacrificed to it.  And I wished for no other to take my place. 
If he needed me, I would be there for him.  I curved my back inward,
letting my bottomcheeks hang more impudently, more seductively.  Saucily
I wiggled my tail.  I was glad my hands were locked behind me.  As I saw
him raise his belt I know I would have covered myself in back.  I was
glad my mouth was plugged.  I could not have kept from crying out for
him to spare me.
         “Louis, Fleury dear,” Rose interrupted suddenly.  Where had she
come from?  She should not be here.  This was our private moment
together.  She put her head through the bed’s canopy and stayed Louis’s
hand just as it was about to come swooping down most mercilessly on my
bottom.  “Louis, there’s a young lady here to see you,” Rose told him. 
She spoke with amusement in her voice, as if enjoying interrupting us.
         “Damn,” Louis swore.  “I’d forgotten.”  He dropped his belt
uselessly on the bed.  He leaned forward, kissed my nearest shoulder, as
if I were just his niece, he my uncle.  Or worse, as if he were my
father, and I his daughter.  Two souls who could never reach out and
enjoy each other in the intimate way lovers do.  “I’ll be back in the
morning,” he told me.  Then he stuffed himself back into his pants,
somehow, and looped his belt back into his pants.  He left.  Delicately
Rose undid me from the post.  I felt empty, somehow, as I slumped down
onto the sheets of the bed.
         “Go take your bath, dear,” Rose said consolingly to me.  I got
up and walked in my nudity to the bathroom.  Going inside, I met
Cheyenne and Polly.  Cheyenne was watching Polly as the blonde sailed a
boat quite merrily through the foam laden waters.
         “Come in, Fleury!  All done?  I’m exploring SudLand!” Polly
chortled.  She seemed perfectly content with her boat.  Reluctantly I
joined them.

                                      A NEW IDIOT REVEALED!
                                            by Detective Joe

         Another person who has been mailbombing me is:  
Greg.Mack@cfox.org (Greg Mack)

         In Article 315 of 2408, on:
http://xp8.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?recnum=13076531&server=db97p2&CONTEXT=863727974.31537&hitnum=314
         Greg.Mack@cfox.org (Greg Mack) writes (in addition to other
drivel):
         “KEEP ON BOMBING
ROLLER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

         In addition, Greg.Mack@cfox.org (Greg Mack) writes, of another
person he dislikes:
         “why aren't we bombing him as well...”

         Of course, I have no knowledge of who these people are.  They
don’t know me from Adam.  They just don’t like my posts.  So, if you
find yourself getting mailbombed, based on anything you’ve posted,
Greg.Mack@cfox.org (Greg Mack) may be one of the idiots behind the
bombing.

                                             AND IN THE END...

                                             LISTEN UP, EXON!

         “Human rights themselves have objective standards that cannot
be modified by legislation and cannot be changed by the will of any
government.”

- Wei Jingsheng

(Wei Jingsheng is a Chinese political prisoner.  His letters from prison
have just been published in the United States in a new book, titled,
“The Courage to Stand Alone.”  The quote above is from a letter dated
June 15, 1991.)

-------------------------- Fuck the CDA ! -----------------------
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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 267 EMISSION

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