Message-ID: <812eli$9705142326@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: roller66@inreach.com (Andrew Roller) Subject: FUCK DECENCY 266 Bush League (nnd) g2 Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 266 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Bush League Chapter Three "Oh, help! I've got two big sausages after me!" Polly hollered, her voice bubbling with joy, and her boobies, no doubt, bouncing like frisky tennis balls on her chest. They were all naked. I was sure of it. Polly was heedless of her mother's warnings not to run about without a training bra on. (Or, indeed, given her size now, a real bra.) The men ran gleefully, without supporters to protect their balls, their big cocks erect and bouncing up and down like poles that high-jumpers extend before themselves to jump the high jump. Except much thicker, of course. Yes, much thicker. I longed to raise myself up and look. I was glad Andre had recovered from his whipping between the mayfair poles, on the dias. Rose had not hit him hard. She knew the value of a nice big pair of balls. And Andre's were a special prize, large enough to make one think of bowling balls, promising loads of sperm to the females whom he treasured, and who treasured his balls. Despite lying with my eyes closed, I could see Polly, infant-like, running with jiggling bottom cheeks, her fleet legs unsteady, her head turning back to see how close her beloved pursuers were. And, when the men really put their minds to it, they would have no trouble catching her. It would be like chasing down a giggly toddler. Just as I considered this I heard her yell out with dismay as she found herself captured. Up they swept her, her feet kicking, her arms struggling, hoping to break free. Her tummy heaved and her breasts shook, their points woefully hard, for she knew she could not be captured without punishment. Such naughty words she'd used in teasing them! Laughingly the men carried her off, big men, big as football linebackers, with poor Polly totally imprisoned now, held, I think, in Louis's arms, for she had started by teasing him. Oh, how I wanted to see Polly get her just desserts! I tried to rouse myself but my legs were still so stiff from Louis doing me, I could not get up. I fell asleep again. In my dreams I replaced Polly with myself. Louis and Andre and Branson and even Lurch were all chasing me, through the trees and round the limo. At last, to escape them, but really to let them have me, I dove into the pool. And, of course, when I surfaced from my dive I saw all four of them arranged around the sides of the pool, standing like sentries, watching me. Their arms were folded and my watery sanctuary had become my watery grave. Their cocks stood out like tree trunks. Then, like Pinocchio's noses, their cocks began growing. As I paddled in the pool I watched their cocks grow out, out, out, finally looming over my head as I hunched down, hoping to avoid them. And then Louis's cock rammed straight into my mouth. I could not stop him. He pried my lips apart. I was forced to suck upon him. Then he flexed his cock and I was lifted up out of the pool, struggling, trying to free my mouth, but there was no escape for me. "Look, I've caught a fish!" Louis crowed, and for a moment I could not tell whether he was speaking of me, caught on the pole of his cock, or was really speaking, outside my window, with little Polly wriggling in his arms, hoping to escape him. Rose appeared. I thought she was real but then realized I was in my dream again. "Bring her to my skillet," she intoned. "I will cook her for your supper, men." And her skillet was the dias. I was tied down to it and my legs spread. "Yes, a most beautiful specimen of fish," Rose said, clinically, inspecting my oyster-lipped cunt. "Most difficult to catch, except for expert fishermen like yourselves, of course," she added, eyeing Louis and Andre. "Oh, it is not difficult for us," Louis said, diffidently, sitting nude at the table in the sunroom now, tying a napkin under his chin. "We catch a new one every day." "Hurry up, I'm hungry," Andre urged. He banged his knife and fork down on the table. Underneath it his big prick wriggled impatiently. Then Polly shot past, outside, timing herself by Lurch's watch as she ran around the castle. I followed her somehow and found that we had to stop and jump through the hopscotch squares at the front of the castle before we could run around it again. Our tits leapt and swung as we played hopscotch, our scissoring legs showing off our mounds without shame. Cars appeared on the desolate road beyond the castle and watched us through its gate with X-Ray eyes. "Hi," I heard. A nose nuzzled mine. Cheyenne. I blinked away my sleep and saw her lying beside me, her face pressed close. "Hi," I replied, smiling. We kissed. Our mouths were sweet. We kissed again. Her hand, which had lain protectively over my waist, passed down to my bottom and palmed it. I let her feel me. I spread my legs a little to invite her explorations. We kissed a third time. She slipped a finger between my legs and sought my spot. I kept my legs splayed apart and we kissed again as she found me and delicately touched me in my special place. We did not hear the creeping of footsteps. Suddenly, with no warning, our bedcovers were unfurled. We were exposed, fish gasping and wriggling on a dock. Rose stood over us, poking her head through the canopy of my bed. She'd unveiled our naughtiness. "Girls!" Rose said. "Are there so few men in my castle that you must entertain each other? All by yourselves?" "We were just playing," Cheyenne explained. We tensed our heinies, worried she might slap us. Instead she turned her attention to me. She ran both her hands over my bottom, pressed them into my newly whitened flesh. "Good," Rose said. "You have a nice, cream-white bottom again, Fleury. And yours is nice too, Cheyenne," she added, for my girlfriend seemed put out that she was not included in Rose's inspection. Rose vented my cheeks and examined my hole. "Ah, how snug and tight you are, Fleury, despite the best efforts of some to enlarge you there. Someday we will have to make you bigger. There is no question about that. I have a little leather belt. It looks like an ordinary belt but there are three chains that loop down and connect themselves under it. Sort of like panties, except without the connecting bits of cloth. Just the skeleton, as it were, made of small chains. And within the back chain there is a brass ring. It fits right over the anus. I'll put you in those little panties someday. And when you've got them on, of course, we can then begin to widen you. There are a selection of shafts that come with the panties. Each day we will plug a new one through the brass ring and, doing that, send it right up your anus. You'll wear the panties all day, plugged up your ass. You'll walk around the castle, doing what you're told, or as you like, but of course everyone will see that you're in training, because you'll just wear the little chain panties, and nothing else. I'll want you to stay out of the sun since I like girl's bottoms white. Perhaps you can drape a little towel over your tushy if you lie out in the sun. Just like I'd expect you to do now. To keep your ass white, so when it's whipped we can see all the stripes." "It sounds...captivating," I answered. My speech slurred because I was still a little sleepy, and her words had induced a kind of prisoner-like listlessness in me. She pried my cheeks harder apart and leaned down and let her breasts tumble out of her low cut, ruffled peasant gown. She blew softly into my hiney hole. "So sweet," she said, Cheyenne watching her inspection of me with a little envy, I think, in her eyes. We both liked being the center of attention, even if it meant showing off our fannies. Rose lifted one of her big gourd-like breasts, heavy like a gourd but round like a grapefruit, and kissed and licked her nipple, preparing it, but for what? Then I knew. She let her breast drop into my bottomfurrow and she stabbed my hole with her hard nipple. "Oh!" I cried. I had not expected it. Fiercely she jabbed me with her nipple but I had little trouble taking it, for it was just a woman's nipple, nothing more. "Ah, if only I had a cock," Rose sighed. "I would ream you to the other end of South America and back, my dear." She stood, lifting herself and taking her tit with her. She upped her dress and I saw she wore no panties beneath. "But instead I'm stuck with this useless pussy. Utterly useless for what I'd like to do with it sometimes. Look at me! Nothing, just a mount of dark hair and my twin lips beneath, as if God felt the lips on my face wouldn't be enough for me, and had to give me a second pair. So I've got nothing, just a belly, two pair of lips, and my tits, of course, sticking out when I walk down the street like balloons and making everyone think I'm a bimbo." She sighed again. She lowered her dress and put her breasts back inside it. She straightened it. "Get up and get ready for dinner, girls," Rose said. "We're going to have fun tonight! Don't wear anything. Just come as you are, but see that your hair and your nails are perfect. Absolutely perfect." She withdrew her head from the canopy, walked to the door. "No playing in the tub!" she warned. "Be good girls. I'm serious. I want you both on tenterhooks when you come downstairs, not exhausted because you've spent the last hour frigging each other to death in the bathroom." "Yes, ma'am," Cheyenne and I answered. Our voices were musical. We sounded like small girls at a slumber party, waiting for mom to leave so we could discuss the finer aspects of boys. We came downstairs an hour later. Rose led us into the ballroom, a room we'd not dined in before. It was huge and had chandeliers in it, six in all, built of crystal and hanging from the ceiling, sprinkling their light down on us. I saw a score of people, men and women, elegantly dressed, but Cheyenne and I, like singing telegram girls, were quite nude, except that I'd tied ribbons in my hair and so had she, to make ourselves extra pretty. Polly was there. Rose had turned her so that her bottom stuck out and she was leaning forward over a table. Rose beckoned us. To my surprise I saw Polly's bottom was white. Whatever Louis and Andre had done to her, they had not whipped her. The day, I realized, had been cloudy. She had been able to run around naked and yet keep her bottom preserved in the state Rose preferred it in. Polly was festooned with ribbons like Cheyenne and I. In addition to decorating her hair they were tied round her upper arms, and again round her thighs, mid-way, tied off in little bows with streamers dangling down to her elbows and knees. She was exceptionally delightful to look at. Rose told me that Polly was to be served for dessert. Indeed, all three of us were, and we were to decorate ourselves for the crowd, as they watched. They had already begun their meal. I wondered when Polly and Cheyenne and I would eat but I did not ask. Rose handed me a cannister of whipped cream. "Decorate Polly, would you, Fleury? Be still, Polly. It is only whipped cream." Polly looked over her shoulder, like a child ignorant but wanting to know, and not sure it liked the answer. Gracefully I took the whipped cream. I wanted to appear as ladylike as I could, despite my nudity. I aimed the cannister carefully and, at Rose's direction, I carefully shot a line of whipped cream down Polly's ass crack. "Don't wiggle, Polly, I want the line to be perfect," Rose scolded. Polly moved her hips once but I anticipated her movement and was able to keep my line of cream straight. As I squirted Polly's asscrack, Bambi, who wore a tight corset, met Cheyenne and drew her aside. "More guests will be coming soon. You must serve them their appetizer," Bambi told her. I could not study Bambi, but I caught a glimpse of her and saw that she wore a corset that plumped up her breasts and left them free, despite its tightness around her middle. Atop the mounds of her nude breasts her skin was all wet and there were bits of stray fruit lying atop them. I realized, somehow, that Bambi had used her own bosoms as a serving tray. She'd placed (or perhaps Rose had done it) bits of fruit atop her uplifted breasts. Then she'd gone from guest to guest and served them this way, offering them her breasts, atop which was the fruit which they were invited to pluck from her with just their mouths. Now it was Cheyenne's turn, and she shivered a little as Bambi suited her up. Polly, meanwhile, was to be the official dessert. She would be made modest, perversely, by having whipped cream squirted over all her private places. Then she would be served this way, and the guests would lick her clean, making her immodest again, and titillating her and themselves in the process. I realized all this in a rush, squirting the whipped cream carefully down the indrawn line of Polly's bottom crack. Rose turned Polly around. The girl looked down at herself as Rose forced her to jut her hips out at me. Her little cunt made a perfect target. "Ooooh, Polly, how indecent you are! Let me cover you up a little," I offered. "Noooo," Polly whined, but I squirted her nonetheless. Icing-like the whipped cream spritzed into the hairs of her pubic mound. Then, coating her thoroughly there, I moved down, parted her legs and squirted her cunny lips and then continued my line back until it met up with the line of cream I'd drawn down her buttcrack. I did not bother to give her cream bikini drawstrings. "Now for your nipples," I said. I stood and placed the nozzle of the whipped cream close to her nearest tit. She was trembling. I had to cup her breast from beneath to hold her wobbling tittie. Then I squirted her nipple, as she gritted her teeth against the cold of the refrigerated cream and begged me to stop. Next I did Polly's other nipple. I did not bother to give her bra cups, just the nipples was enough. No decorative drawstring either. But, raising my can, I traced a little cream collar round the front of her throat. Just above her real collar. It looked nice. She looked sweet. I kissed her blushing cheeks and told her so. "Oh, can I wipe it off now?" Polly asked, stroking her tummy and threatening to dip it into the cream that decorated her pubis. "Why Polly, we just got you properly dressed for the party and you want to get naked already?" Rose teased. "Be a good girl and go show off your cream bikini to the guests. I wonder if you'd be allowed on a beach now, since we can't see your privates anymore? Of course, you mustn't get your bikini wet. That would truly be a no-no," Rose laughed. She was clothed in a beautiful red gown that moulded itself to her figure like a glove. It was cut off at the knees, seductively showing her calves, I thought. In front her gown dipped so low her nipples showed. Just the top halves, the pronging tips barely below the hem. It constricted her breasts a little so that her nipples' tips would stay concealed. But I knew if she moved incautiously she'd find herself displaying her teats right out to the tips. Bambi was inventive. Having tied up Cheyenne in a breathlessly tight corset, she made the girl perch her bare ass on a table and she fitted the girl into ankle-high boots. Then, finishing that, she did not release her. Instead she made her stand and then bent her over. Cheyenne grimaced as the tautly-laced corset creaked and bit into her already trim waistline, compressing her slim tummy even more. When Cheyenne was bent double, her fingers brushing her toes, Bambi parted her legs, giving her a wider stance. Cheyenne looked ready to keel over and Rose rushed to hold her. She cupped her hands beneath the girl's face and stroked her hair. She watched with approval as Bambi took an oil funnel, the same type used in gas stations, but brand new and clean, and poked it into Cheyenne's tight bottom. "You must experience submission, Cheyenne," Rose said softly to the girl, in a reassuring voice, letting her know she approved of all the new tricks Bambi was thinking up. Rose tossed her hair back over her shoulder, carelessly, and one of her hemmed in nipples managed to break free of her low cut bodice. Cheyenne, meanwhile, had no such protection for her breasts. The corset stopped short of containing them and merely pushed them upward, so that they could be used as wiggling nude platforms for fruit. Polly stood beside me, a hand on my shoulder, a finger in her mouth. She sucked on it speculatively, watching, as I did, as Bambi took a small bottle of liquor and popped its cork. Carefully Bambi took hold of the oil funnel which, in the interim, Rose had been holding in place. Its neck was most indelicately stuck within Cheyenne's butthole. The girl shivered, waiting, first while the cork on the liquor was popped and then as Bambi took back possession of the funnel. Now all of us watched as Bambi slowly began pouring the liquor into Cheyenne's ass. THE IDIOT REVEALED! by Detective Joe I have found out who the primary idiot is who has been fucking with me. It is: bow@hatchet.net (Tomahawk) You can see for yourself what I have found. (Use this method if someone fucks with you): 1. Type this into your web browser: http://www.excite.com/ 2. Hit the "return" or "enter" key on your keyboard. 3. A web page appears. (http://www.excite.com/) You will see a button marked "newsgroups" on this web page. Click on it. 4. Next, you will see a search field. Click in it, so that a cursor appears in it. Now, type my old e-mail address into the search field. Type: "roller666@aol.com" (Don't include the quote marks.) 5. Click on the button marked "search" 6. Voila! Up comes a total of about 2,000 messages. The first 20 or so will appear on your screen. These are the ones you will be most interested in. Here, you can click on the various messages and see for yourself all the bullshit that bow@hatchet.net (Tomahawk) and several other users posted in various newsgroups about me. AND IN THE END... "Normal" men get their reward "Men, for better or for worse, have surrendered their advantage, and for the next millenium or two, will probably be forced to wear lacy little dresses." - SPY magazine, May/June 1997, pg. 49. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller66@inreach.com -To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com -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 266 EMISSION -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /