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From: Andrew Roller <roller66@inreach.com>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 272 Bush League (nnd) g2
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Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 209
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Three
“You, sir, are a pervert,” I told him. And he was, too. He
must have eyed his little daughters every day, wanting them, but quite
unable to have them, of course, because they were born for other men,
not their father. Now there was a real girl, with boobs and all,
displayed in the seductive, captivating infant seat. One he could fuck
at will, with Cheyenne playfully pushing her. And there was me, of
course, the nearest twat. We were all just twats, I think, and him a
cock. We cared nothing for him, nor he for us. But we did have a
healthy admiration for each other’s privates.
I reached under Brent’s cock and clasped his balls. They were
huge, hairy. I cupped them gently, afraid to hurt them, they seemed so
full and swollen. I felt his twin eggs and carefully gave each one a
little squeeze.
“You’re in need of emptying, sir,” I told Brent frankly. “You
could hurt yourself, trying to carry around this much sperm. How do you
manage to find pants that fit you?” I squeezed each of his eggs again,
more forcefully. I think he liked the idea that I might hurt him.
“Ohhh,” Brent moaned. His huge chest rippled with his
anxiousness. He wanted to cum, yet he did enjoy so much playing with
himself, I think he just wanted to be stiff forever. “I’ve had such a
cold wife,” Brent told me. Really, I didn’t want to hear about his wife
or his family problems, but he told me anyway. “Yet, every night, I had
to bathe my daughters. They were so.... open, available.”
“Yes, sir, you’re developing quite a pedophile problem,” I told
Brent, meanwhile taunting his balls with ever more rudeness, squeezing,
pinching them a little. Then I got an idea. “You need to watch two
grown-up girls take a bath,” I said to him.
I turned to call to Cheyenne. She was bending under Polly’s
seat. “Look, these dildos can be turned on!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, don’t!” I said. But I hadn’t selected them with the
purest of intentions. Polly’s eyes were wide as she realized what would
happen. Wide as saucers. She burbled something but her penis pacifier
kept us from hearing.
BZZZZ! I heard suddenly, and then it was joined by a second.
Cheyenne laughed. She’d turned on both of Polly’s underneath dildos,
sparing only her mouth.
WAAAK! Polly screamed within the plugging fulness of her oral
dildo. She buzzed atop the twin dildos in her ass and cunt, shivering
right along with them, her boobies shaking on her chest.
“Come, bath time,” I called to Cheyenne. I wanted to get all
this ice cream off me. I walked to the baby pool, leaving Brent to fist
himself, and bent and turned on the wall faucet. The hose gurgled and
began filling the inflated pool.
“Oh, thank God,” Cheyenne said. I’m tired of being a walking
ice cream cone. She tossed her hair and walked over to the me. Polly
was left to suffer the buzzing visitors in her holes.
“I’m thirsty,” I said. I knelt down outside the pool and stuck
my head over the rapidly rising water. Cheyenne joined me, and together
we lapped fresh water from the clean plastic pool. Brent, meanwhile,
let out a new groan of pleasure, watching our bare asses. We tightened
them. His prick was so near, and neither of us wanted to get butt
fucked by him. We just wanted to play. I felt my tits swaying
underneath my chest as I lapped at the water. I was female. The male
prowled somewhere behind me. Would he swoop down and fuck me? I hoped
not. I didn’t want him to. Yet I couldn’t resist teasing him.
Fortunately, Brent just kept fisting himself, admiring us both so much
that he couldn’t decide which of us to take first!
“Mmm, the water’s cold,” Cheyenne said to me.
“I know. It can’t be helped,” I replied. We both got up and
stepped into the chilly water. She lifted the bubble bath and sprinkled
some into the tub. She stirred the powder with her foot to make the
bubbles grow.
“Sit down, cowards. Get your bottoms wet,” Brent told us. He
came up to us and Cheyenne and I both sank down to avoid him. He was as
lusty as a satyr.
“Ohh, it IS cold,” Cheyenne exclaimed as her bottom touched the
water. Reluctantly she sat in it. I sat down too. I felt the chilly
water envelope my bottom and invade my slit. I stared at her, she at
me.
“Well, we’re seated, at least,” I said to her with big eyes.
“I hate cold baths,” I admitted.
“Me too,” Cheyenne replied, but then she splashed me. She
didn’t mind, I guess, if she made me chilly. I splashed her back. She
picked up a loofah brush. There was a soap squirt beside it. Boldly
she squirted my tits, first one nipple, then the other.
“The soap smells good, at least,” I said. It was creamy and
fragrant.
“I wish it was edible,” Cheyenne admitted.
“You would!” I laughed. She took the loofah brush and
carefully began scrubbing my tits. Her strokes were bold in their
carefulness. I felt like I was a vestal virgin being prepared for some
bizarre sacrifice. Cheyenne passed the bristly sponge-like brush over
my nipples. I gasped.
“Wait ‘til I get to your slit,” Cheyenne smiled at me. “I
wonder if this would feel nice being stuffed up you?” The brush was
long and cylindrical, shaped like a barren cardboard center from an
empty roll of paper towels.
“You are a domme,” I said to her. “But you haven’t been
whipped by Branson yet. Then you can be domme. Until then, I am.”
“Whipped?” Cheyenne asked. Her strokes slowed.
“Every girl must be,” I told her. “A penal whipping, as
repentance for all the bad things she’s going to do here at the castle.”
“Have you been?” she asked. Her face was contemplative now.
She’d ceased washing me with the brush. I took it from her.
“Yes,” I answered. I grabbed her lovely hair. “Turn around.
Show me your bottom,” I told her. Reluctantly Cheyenne got turned round
in the make-believe tub and bent herself over. She had to rest her
elbows on the towel outside of the pool. Half in, half out, her knees
in the water but her elbows outside it, her legs splayed open in the
water but her head hanging over the floor and the towel, Cheyenne
presented her bottom to me.
“Very good,” I said. “You obey well.” Then I ran the loofah
brush boldly between the cheeks of her ass, scrubbing her tender ass
crack briskly. Cheyenne gasped as she felt its bristly sponginess dig
deep into her cleft. “Yes, whipped,” I teased her. “How sore you’ll be
when it’s all over! But it must be done, before you can be a domme.”
“Umph,” Cheyenne breathed. I think she may have started to say
‘yes,’ but at the last moment she stuffed her fist into her mouth and
suppressed the sound so that it was inaudible.
“I’m going to cum,” Brent announced. He thrust forth his hips
and fisted his big cock vigorously.
“Cum in my mouth, then, I don’t want it all shooting into our
bath water,” I told him suddenly. I turned and offered him my lips. He
thrust himself into me and I prepared myself to begin swallowing. I
wanted to get clean in this tub, however cold the water might be, and go
tie up Cheyenne for her whipping. I wanted to engineer it, to make it
happen now, with me in charge of her. Brent was just an obstacle.
Perhaps his passion could be got rid of. Then he would leave us alone.
“Unh, unh, unh,” Brent groaned. He began shooting himself into
my gasping mouth. I struggled to swallow fast as his jism suddenly
erupted. My God! I felt like I’d put my mouth over Old Faithful! He
shot merrily, lustily, relieving himself of days, perhaps months, of
sexual tension. Meanwhile I lightly tickled Cheyenne’s slit. She
mewled soft sighs of pleasure. Her boobies shook as mine were shaking,
while Polly, poor girl, was left to be unpleasantly amused in her swing
seat.
Chapter Four
“I hate you!” Polly declared when I finally, with the help of
Cheyenne, managed to extract her from her infant swing. Brent had left
us to our own devices as soon as he’d cum. We were alone in the attic.
Cheyenne and I finished washing ourselves. We were quite clean now, and
ready for whatever the day portended. We took Polly to the baby pool
and ran in more water and washed her too. Cheyenne placed more towels
around the pool to keep our knees dry. Someone would have to vacuum
this room’s rug quite well after we left, at least where the pool was.
We’d not been too careful about keeping the water where it belonged. Oh
well, I told myself. There was semen on the rug too, where Brent had
dribbled after cumming in my mouth. Maria, no doubt, would clean up
after us, or perhaps Kelly. It was our job merely to play.
When Polly was clean as a newborn Cheyenne and I got her out of
the tub and dried her off. I slapped her bottom. “Go downstairs,
Polly, and find someone to play with,” I told her. “Cheyenne and I have
business to attend to.”
“I WILL!” Polly said sulkily. She was still upset about being
fucked to death in the infant swing. She padded off across the rug,
managed to get the attic’s trap door up (after dropping it twice), and
scooted herself down the ladder just as fast as she could.
I looked at Cheyenne. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s do
our makeup,” I told her. She was quiescent. She let me lead her to the
toy cupboard. I found a compact for each of us and a makeup kit for us
to share. I took her to the children’s table. We sat on the hard
little seats and did our makeup, our knees up to our chests, our legs
wide, showing our slits. I made her rouge her nipples when she’d
finished her face. I powdered her pussy for her.
“Come along,” I told her. I stood up, she stood also. I took
her hand. We went to the trap door and I went down the ladder. She
followed. I gazed up at her bottom as she came down after me.
“Should I shut the door?” she asked me. She meant the trap
door.
“Leave it open,” I told her. “The place must be tidied up.”
“Okay,” Cheyenne replied. When she was standing beside me I
took her hand again. I circled a fingertip around her nearest nipple.
“It’s time for your whipping,” I told her simply. I don’t know
if she believed me or not. But she let me lead her, and I took her to
my room.
“We’ll use my bedroom,” I said to her. I opened the canopy so
she could get up within my bed. I made her stand on my bed while I
knelt behind her. I was quite aware of her bottom, jiggling sweetly in
front of my face, and I knew she was too. I kissed it, once on each
cheek. It was creamy and white. She was ready to enjoy new adventures
with it. I reached around her hips, got hold of the post to which she
would have to be tethered. I snapped it up from the wall and latched it
onto her dog collar. We were fortunate, having our manacles always on
us, keeping us ready for punishment.
Cheyenne opened her mouth and waited while I flipped up the
second post, the one that lay atop the first and held the soft rubber
ball. When it was up I stood and bent her head gently forward. She
accepted the ball within her mouth. I stroked her hair.
“This is going to hurt,” I told her. I lifted her hands high
and then bent them back and attached them to the rear of her dog
collar. I kissed her face. She had nice blushing face cheeks. Her
lips were stretched over the ball, as if it were some huge cock forcing
itself into her mouth.
Rose peeked within the canopy. Had Polly told her what I had
planned for Cheyenne? “There you two are!” Rose exclaimed.
“I’m going to give Cheyenne her judicial whipping now, with
your permission,” I told Rose. “She wants to be a domme, but she can’t,
can she, until she’s had her whipping?”
Rose put a hand to her throat. “You are not qualified, dear,”
she told me. “You might injure her.”
“I’ll do my best not to,” I replied. “You can supervise me if
you want to.”
“Alright,” Rose answered. “But afterward I’m going to insert
your butt plug. It’s time we began widening your hiney.”
I gulped. For a moment I just stood behind Cheyenne, caressing
her bottom cheeks with my hands. Cheyenne jerked now and then, why I
don’t know.
“Okay,” I said finally. Rose nodded.
“Be good, Cheyenne,” she told my sweet victim. “This will give
you more privileges at the castle. Although, I daresay, I’ve hardly
restricted you so far, as I should have,” she smiled. “Nonetheless, all
girls must have this, so don’t despair. Keep your chin up. Louis and
Andre should be done with Brent’s wife by now. I’ll invite them all in
to watch. I’ll have Maria bring some food and we’ll have quite a
celebration while you suffer. You can be our centerpiece, Cheyenne,
inspiring us all!”
Polly padded into my bedroom. Carefree, innocent, she sucked
her thumb as she carried the satchel of implements with which Cheyenne’s
bottom would be whipped. I had not even thought of the implements yet.
I guessed Polly must have, in fact, told Rose of my plans, and now all
was set in motion. I had been so intent on securing Cheyenne to the
post above my bed that, I guess, I must’ve simply thought of using my
hand to paddle her. It shows you what a ‘bush-leaguer’ I was. I guess
it meant I belonged at Rose’s Cunt Castle after all, since she was,
according to Glenda’s boyfriend, hardly the maven of S&M she claimed to
be. Yet as I watched Polly plop down the bag on the bed beside me, and
unzip it, and Cheyenne’s quivering bottom cheeks as she saw, in a
mirror, all the insidious implements it contained, I think Cheyenne, at
least, considered herself in for more pain than she wished.
I drew from the bag a half-inch wide lash made of elegant
snakeskin. It was long and promised to curl with deadly force into the
soft waiting cheeks of Cheyenne’s bottom. I think the prospect of
showing off her white bottom and daring me to whack it seemed less
intriguing to Cheyenne, even as Andre and Louis, our loves, stepped
within my bedroom to watch. Despite the rigors of entertaining Brent’s
wife, their cocks hardened the minute they saw me with Cheyenne. She
mewled a protest but neither of them made any move to rescue her.
Chivalry in this case meant refraining, not interfering.
AND IN THE END...
The Christians’ next project:
BURN THE LOCAL LIBRARY !!!
“He came down to her
Saying: ‘My dear, the chains that ought to bind you
Are love-knots rather than shackles. May I ask you
Your name, your country, the reason for this bondage?’
At first she made no answer, too much the virgin
To speak to any man; she would have hidden
Her modest features with her hands, but could not
Since they were bound.”
- Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book Four, lines 678-685.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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