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From: ROLLER666@aol.com
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 259 Cunt Castle (nnd)
Who Needs Jesus?
WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN PORNO...
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 259
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Cunt Castle
Chapter Three
"Alright," Rose said, seeing I would not obey. She withdrew the cup
and took up a martinet. It's stiff, water soaked cords would show me no
mercy. It had lain waiting, hidden, within the pot of brine. It was not
very large or long. It did not need to be.
"Oh, let me do it!" Bambi begged. As if in answer Louis, who had
escaped my eyes and circled round the bed, grabbed her from behind and pushed
her face down into the sheets. There was nothing to undo or untie. She wore
her playsuit, but her triangles were undone. The rest was just lace
trimming. He unzipped himself. Seeing she was undone, Bambi balled her fist
and pushed it between her teeth. Louis presented his cock to her cunt lips
and nudged them apart with his blue-stemming cockhead. Suddenly he was in
her, and Bambi gasped at the immediacy of his entry. She seemed to have
trouble taking him for a moment, he was so swift, so hard. A cry escaped her
throat.
When he was fully lodged, Louis began reaming Bambi with slow,
deliberate strokes. Rose, for her part, took to whacking my bottom with the
martinet. I felt the salt ooze from the stick with each cracking blow of it
upon my heinie. I was in agony. I danced upon the bed, kicked back at her,
was rewarded with a yet more deliberate blow. She went easy, striking me
playfully, but the martinet is an awful instrument and it does not take much
from its cords to make a girl's bottom surrender itself.
Brazenly my cheeks oscillated within a tight circle, moving
constantly now, offering themselves, showing my fleshy hemispheres as if they
were baubles at some crude market fair. I flexed them and shook them. I
squeezed them and pushed them out toward Rose, hoping perhaps to bang her in
the face with my bottom. For her part she kept applying the martinet, each
stroke carefully aimed, laid on with precision, her bosoms lifting and
falling and jostling with her every wrist-swinging sweep of the stick.
In a sudden shamelessness, not even waiting for the teacup, I peed
upon the sheets of my bed.
"Oh, look!" A female cried, pointing at me. They all watched with
fascination in their eyes.
"Yes," Rose hissed, and she gave me another ass-biting stroke of the
martinet, even as I offered my water to her. A big stain grew beneath me and
I thought of my mother. She seemed so loving and caring now. She had wanted
to protect me, yet here I was, showing off my ass like some long lost
treasure and peeing out my golden stream.
Bambi moaned by my knees as Louis hammered her with his cock. As I
peed, he spurted his sperm into her. We both went together, as it were, me
on the pristine bed and he within the youthfully clutching lips of her cunt.
There was a round of applause. Indiscreetly Rose lifted her skirt and put
her hand beneath herself and masturbated her cunt. With her free hand she
gave me another blow from the martinet, then another, trying to restrain
herself but feeling ever more lusty by the moment. She screamed out as she
came quickly to orgasm, jamming her fingers within herself. She swung her
fist in again toward me, holding the martinet, but lost her grip on it
suddenly, hitting me only with her bare hand. Weeping with pleasure she
collapsed against my fanny. Her salty tears flowed over my damaged flesh,
doing me no good at all, but she must have thought she was helping me for she
cried freely against my heinie, rubbing her wet cheeks against me, and
finally she kissed me with her lips.
Louis found he had more sperm to offer. Withdrawing his newly
spurted prick from Bambi, he got up on the bed and poked himself into Rose.
She ground her face into my ass as he pushed his rod up inside her. They
went at it, she licking my bottom while he reamed her well, giving her long
and deeply penetrating strokes as if he'd lost nothing in Bambi.
The guests in my room helped Bambi up from the bed. Two women
embraced her and kissed her. As Rose laved my bottom with her tongue,
tracing my welt, kissing my cheeks, Louis behind her, the crowd undressed and
took to the floor for fucking.
All around me sounds of passion and love began to arise, as in the
distance I saw the first fleeting glimpses of sunlight. Polly's screams had
faded. Amidst the moans and cries of my guests the birds outside began to
chirp. They saw the sun and awakened to it, even as we ourselves were
working our way toward sleep.
It consoled me to know that the rug burns on my guests would be
intense. Their bottoms would hurt like mine did, though not as much, but
some, and that was enough. I let my tears flow freely down my cheeks and I
tongued my gag. Its balled firmness remained wedged between my teeth,
filling my mouth, making me feel like a pony harnessed for a morning ride.
At last the sun shone brightly through the window and, like vampires
retreating from it, to await the new moon, we were done.
Rose gently detached me from the pillar and my gag. She undid my
wrists. Drawing my arms out, she flexed them for me. I was too weak, too
overwhelmed. I was limp in her arms. I smelled sperm and saw she'd been
well-fucked by Louis. His essence ran down the insides of her thighs.
I was laid down in my bed. The wet spot loomed beneath me but I did
not care. The sheets were crisp and difficult against my bottom, despite
their handwoven softness. The wet spot touched my back only, from my
shoulders down to the lowest part of my waist. My bottom had a dry perch,
but I could not stand it, and I rolled over onto my tummy to escape the
stinging of my soft bed. I let my bottom expose itself to the cool morning
air. I raised it up, pulling my knees toward me a little. I felt the
comforting softness of my pillow beneath my face and wished so much that I
could rest my bottom on the consoling silkiness of my bed, but it was not
possible.
"Oh, she wants more!" the young girl, rising and dressing,
commented. She simply did not understand. The guests bustled about now,
reclothing themselves. All was quick kisses and brief words of goodbye as
the sun flooded the room. Passionate lovers who had kissed deeply into each
other's throats passed away from each other with only the slightest
acknowledgement. They were like passersby on the street now, each going
their own separate way. Women who had joined together and brought each other
to frenzied bliss parted company, hardly speaking, not caring. Men who had
swapped wives let go of their new loves like children tossing away ice cream
cones after licking out all the cream.
Suited up, dressed again, their breasts and cunnies and loins tucked
away, the guests departed. I heard them start their cars a few minutes later
down in the parking lot that lay alongside the castle. All was done, all was
gone. Rose drew the curtains to keep the sun off my bottom. Taking Louis'
hand, they left the room and locked the door behind them.
I sobbed into my pillow and felt the cool morning breeze filter
through my curtains and play across my heinie. I had received. I had been
good. Louis would love me forever, I told myself, and I fell quickly asleep.
When I woke up I was startled to feel such hot pain in my bottom.
Then I remembered. I looked up. The post was still there. Rose had not
bothered to retract it. I groaned as I tried to get up. My bottom was
flaring, a deep-seated ball of glowing heat. Yet somehow, within its
tenderness, I felt a sexiness. I was aware of myself as never before. I was
new somehow. I kneed my way to the edge of my bed and got down from it. I
felt the soft fur of the rug as it impressed itself between my toes. I
walked to a mirror and turned around.
"Ah!" I cried as I looked at myself. My lightly tanned flesh, with
my white boobs hanging like young fruit from my ribs, was perfect. Except in
one place. And that was my bottom. There, my untanned flesh, so dearly
protected from the sun to make me look sexy without my clothes on, was bright
red. It was as if someone had drawn an intricate road map across my
hemispheres. Not a street had been left out. All over my white ass I saw
many little lines, each giving my delicate bottom an overall appearance of
being like a well-stitched tomato, more red than white now, but with a little
white showing through here and there to remind me of what I once was.
God, I had gotten it good, much worse than at abandon gardens. Had
Polly suffered the same? Would we be the twins of tortured bottoms?
Shivering, I let go of my hind cheeks and wrapped my arms around myself. I
felt my bosoms bulbing within my arms, protesting, wanting to hang free. I
took myself to the bathroom. I walked like a wounded soldier, walking
wounded, tip-toeing across the rug, so afraid for my heinie, yet somehow
happy within myself. I had obeyed Louis. I would claim him now as my own.
I drew back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. I did not
know whether to stand or sit. Finally I turned on the water and just stood
under it. I felt like an abandoned kitten, my blonde hair streaming down
under the shower, sticking to me in its wetness. For a long time I just
stood and felt the cool lukewarm water of the shower run down over my bottom.
I was alone. I did not want to be alone. I wanted to be with others. I
could not bear this loneliness. Where were Joanne and Sylvia? I deserved
their attention now. Perhaps I had awakened sooner than they thought I
would. What time was it? I did not know.
Finally I stepped from the shower and dried myself. Where was
everybody? Why were they not here to celebrate my return to the living?
Where was Louis? He should kiss me and bathe me in the morning, not leave
me to wash myself like some cheap whore done with her night of tricks. I
walked out into my bedroom, feeling my bottom joggle boldly behind me, all
red and tortured and making me walk with exaggerated movements of my ass. I
fished out a bikini from the dresser. I tied on the top, checking it in a
mirror. I dared not wear the panties. But I tossed them over my shoulder
just in case. Who knows? Somebody downstairs might have a whip and decide
mine was the perfect ass to apply it to.
I came down the front staircase with my hair all brushed and glowing
with luminous blondness, my makeup perfect, my lipstick red and inviting. I
wore my bikini top. My panties were slung over my shoulder. My bush,
necessarily, was bared to whomever might greet me.
And there, within the parlor, just looking up now to see me, was
Rose. She had older women with her. They were dressed primly, as if at some
neighborhood meeting, or some vanguard discussion group for school reform.
Feeling a little like one of their daughters, though, thank God, I did not
see my mother there or any of her friends, I sauntered as unselfconsciously
as I could down the rest of the stairs and, hoping to reach the pool, through
the parlor, for that was the shortest way.
I was gazed at by all the ladies. They were twice my age. Had they
been like me once? I did not try to hide my bush. I let my bush and my
cunny show as freely as if I were onstage at Las Vegas. I walked with my
back erect, my young breasts lifted high. Only my bottom remained
undisciplined, waggling excessively, due to my whipping. As I passed through
them, trying to ignore them, I felt their eyes paste themselves upon my
bottom as its clenching cheeks came into view. They gasped at my marks. I
put my hands instinctively behind myself to cover up my cheeks but I winced
when my palms touched them. I had to draw my hands away and let them see me
there, with all my burny marks.
I made it past them and into the next room, then through the next,
and out a side door to the pool. I saw Polly splashing in it. She looked
like a little dolphin. As I drew close she greeted me happily and then dove
beneath the waters, sticking her bottom up as her head went down.
Oh! They had done her too, just like me, but the waters were
cooling her ass for her and letting her absorb the pain and accept it.
Quickly, tossing my panties aside, I stepped to the edge of the pool and
waded into it. Descending a flight of tiled steps I let the water rise up
and take me. Ah, it was chilly, but so comforting against my ass! I turned
my head and saw Louis and Andre lounging nearby, in bathrobes. It was still
morning, eleven o'clock perhaps. Andre was eating a brunch served to him by
Maria and Louis was dressed in a silk bathrobe, smoking a pipe. He looked up
from a newspaper in his lap, gazed at me, then returned to the sports page.
I did not mind. I loved him. I would keep him forever, just as he kept me.
I paddled out into the water and joined Polly. She took possession of a
beach ball floating aimlessly on the water. We stood in the shallow end and,
letting our breasts hang free to entertain the men, our tops discarded and
floating away from us on the surface of the pool, we passed the big beach
ball back and forth to each other, volley-ball style, batting it back and
forth as our titties joggled in their fullness and I felt the tips of mine
grow hard.
Later, as the sun reached its zenith, Andre and Louis cast off their
robes. They entered the pool and took Polly and I from behind. Despite the
roughness of their prickly hairy skin against my bottom, I felt soothed
somehow. Polly and I kissed and tongued each other's mouths as the men did
us in the shallow end, bending us forward like puppies being given enemas,
making us feel them within ourselves. When they spurted, Polly and I cried
out together, breathing into each other's mouths, clutching at each other's
tits. I felt her nipples pricking my palms and I squished her breasts in my
hands, feeling their youthful resilience, and she handled mine just as
freely.
When we'd been spermed Polly and I got out of the pool. The men
laid out soft towels for us on reclining chaise lounges. We sat down
happily, wincing and crying at first, but finally accommodating ourselves to
our new state, sinking our bottoms into the towels and welcoming the
attention of the men. Not satisfied with having done us in the pool, they
each placed their cocks in our mouths. Polly and I sucked on them as Maria
laid out brunch for us. We were spermed again. After they were done Polly
and I wiped our mouths with napkins and then, feeling silly and decadent, we
ate our brunch lying back in our chairs, feeding our eggs and sausages into
our sperm-soaked mouths. Our titties wobbled freely, uncovered in the sun.
We would be tanned there, but I didn't care. Let the sun brown my breasts a
little. I would surprise my mother with an all-over tan.
Polly and I ate lustily. We were hungry from our night's play. The
men watched us, mesmerized. We were just schoolgirls, yet here we were,
soaking up the sun and loving life and letting them do as they pleased with
us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw their cocks grow anew. They were
excited by us, and we by them.
As soon as Polly and I were done we got up from our chairs. The men
stood, expectantly, their cocks stemming at us with renewed vigor.
"What now?" I asked Louis as I drew close to him. My fingers
touched his cock. I let them play upon it. I touched his pee slit. We did
not kiss, or embrace. Not yet. He ran his fingers over my breasts and my
belly.
"You are truly beautiful," he said to me.
"Why, thank you, Louis," I replied.
Polly and Andre negotiated with similar words, touching, exploring,
finding each other as fresh and new as when we'd first met. But my bottom,
and Polly's, promised that we'd be submissive.
VIDEO REVIEWS
by holy joe
Lingerie Passion, $14.95. VHS, Color, 60 minutes. Player Home Video, 22647
Ventura Blvd., Woodland Hills, CA 91364.
Review: The only good thing about this video is the copy on the
back, which reads: "It's Undies Undone. We've taken the delicious ladies of
Player to one of the most lavish mansions in all Hollywood and filled it with
the most erotic lingerie a supermodel could ask for. And then we held one
wild panty party. Join pin-up hostess, former Penthouse Pet Sabrina Allen,
in a tribute to lacy little things and the goddesses they grace..."
Now let's get the real lowdown on this video. First, the video
begins. There is a very cute girl talking into the camera, looking at you.
(Probably it's Sabrina Allen, although I don't have the ability to associate
that name with a face.) Anyway, I really liked looking at this girl, as she
talked to me. She was wearing clothes, but she talked quite sexily.
Next, we are in a mansion. The girl, who had been talking, now
takes her clothes off. Unfortunately it's very boring, watching her take off
her clothes.
Next, we are in another mansion, looking at another girl. She takes
off her clothes. Again, I'm bored.
Next, we're in another mansion, looking at another girl. She takes
off her clothes.
And on and on. The best looking girls don't actually show
themselves in the nude. The worst looking girls do. Never, however, is
there a "panty party." Just one female after another, each in a different
mansion, taking off her clothes.
I think you've figured out by now that this is just about the most
boring video ever made. If any right-wing Christians want this video, just
e-mail me. I'll be happy to send it to you. Maybe it will help you with
your SPAM problem.
AND IN THE END...
"A Lift for the Lovelorn"
holy joe's PERSONALS
--------------------------------------------------------------
NEEDED: 8-year-old girl. Requirements: long legs, growing breasts, cute
face. Blonde preferred, but brunette o.k. Will gladly provide free clothes,
candy, and toys to the right candidate. 1 a.m. bedtime! Skip school
anytime. Spankings only when naughty.
--------------------------------------------------------------
(given to me by a Jesus freak. - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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- ftp://members.aol.com/nnd66 KiddieClitties! (kiddie1)
- ftp://members.aol.com/nnd6 Jesus! (temptation1c)
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-Fuck Decency: http://members.aol.com/nnd6/fuckdecency.html
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
-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 259 EMISSION
--
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