Message-ID: <834eli$9705181853@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: Andrew Roller X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.01Gold (Macintosh; I; 68K) 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 ! ----------------------- -Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller66@inreach.com -formerly I was roller666@aol.com -To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -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 267 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> /