Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 142
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bordello Girls
Chapter Three
�They are staring at me,� I said, my voice whisper-soft. I clapped
my hands to my bosoms. My pussy remained uncovered.
�Of course. You are gorgeous,� Martin replied. The Arab women
looked up, saw me. Poor people all, simple nomads. We were from the
north, invading Aryans long after the age of colonialism was supposed to
be past.
�Turn around. Show them your ass,� Martin said. There was a hint of
racism in his voice. I complied. I could do no else. He placed his hand at
the back of my head and bent me over like a mechanism under test. He was
testing my compliance. I was obedient. The fullness of my bottom was
displayed to them. Elegina ran her hand along the undersides of my cheeks,
the silky inner curves.
WHACK! Robert stung my upturned ass with his crop. I yelped. Like
a child I yelped, spanked by daddy. He did not hit me again. He unzipped
himself and fed me his cock. I gagged on it. It was huge, my nightmare
come true, the bull within me. I tried to tongue it but it was too big to
tongue. I could only absorb it, try to absorb, I told myself. Let it be a part
of you as it jams its way down your throat. Don�t fight it. It is useless to
fight it.
When he withdrew, I was permitted to stand. His cock pulsed wetly
before me, erect, his seed still safely within his balls. I looked at
Elegina. She had unbuttoned her blouse and taken it off. It was knotted
around her waist. Her breasts, big and round, bounced softly before me
with her every subtle movement.
�Come. You must receive your morning enema,� Elegina said to me.
�What?!� I was horrified. What did she mean? I turned my head to
Robert. He delivered a stinging cut to my ass with his crop. Wobbly-
cheeked, tears coming to my eyes, I stumbled ahead. And then I saw it.
Laid out on the sand, by our maid perhaps, was a white quilted comforter.
There was a picnic basket beside it, and next to that, a small nozzle and
some tubing. Sitting in a patch of sunlight was a metal container. The sun
was warming it.
�Camel�s milk, diluted with water,� Elegina said to me, as if we
were schoolmates on a summer vacation. �An excellent enema.� I noticed
she spoke English more easily now. I guessed her earlier incomprehension
had been but feigned, to keep me quiet. Secrets couldn�t be divulged by a
girl who pretended not to understand. She was an obedient mistress to
Martin. I wondered how long they�d been together. For the summer
perhaps, or longer? Martin did not look like a man who kept girls for long.
Perhaps that�s what drew me to him. His uncaring, as if I were
disposable, just a chattel.
With trembling knees I allowed myself to drop to the softness of the
comforter. All around was baking hot sand. There was just enough shade
over the comforter to keep us cool, at least until the sun rose higher. A
big tree spread its branches nearby. I was grateful for it. I stayed poised
on my knees, not wanting to go further. I would stay at the edge of the
comforter for the rest of my life, poised between having Martin and not
having him.
The toe of a boot in the cleft of my ass. �Crawl forward,� Martin
urged, ordered. I dropped to my hands and knees and advanced into the
middle of the blanket. Elegina dropped down beside me. She unlooped the
tubing.
�Put your head down,� Martin told me. His cock waggled just beyond
the tender incurving of my heinie.
�Shan�t we eat first?� Elegina asked. Her words saved me. Martin
relented.
�All right,� he sighed. He seemed slightly bored by it all. I plopped
down on my heinie, glad to have it safely under me instead of stuck up in
the air. With uncertain eyes I glanced at the tubing, cast aside by Elegina
in favor of sandwiches. The tubing looked wicked. It had a tip that was
small, narrow, perfect for threading a girl right up her ass. I shifted on
my bottomcheeks. Elegina offered me an orange soda. I accepted, sipped
quietly on a straw that protruded from its neck. It was delicious, better
than I�d ever tasted. I knew the circumstances had much to do with it.
Elegina shifted the picnic basket. There was a pillow. I had not seen
it. It looked soft. It was white like the comforter. Elegina placed it
close to me. From the picnic basket she took a syringe. She pointed it at
me and gave it a little squirt. Fluid shot out at me. I shifted, twisted
away, sitting on my bottom. It missed me. With an air of significance she
laid the syringe on the pillow next to me. I looked at her.
�Muscle relaxant,� she said quietly, smiling. �You will thank me for
it when the time comes. Tell me when you want it.�
I felt a thousand butterflies take flight in my tummy. I ran my
fingers over my belly to try to soothe myself. �Why?� I asked simply. I
was sad. I wanted to cry.
�Because I am going to fuck you up your little ass,� Martin said to
me. His voice was grave, serious, a ring of laughter in it somewhere. It
brooked no dissent.
�No,� I said. He reached for me. I drew myself back from him, still
sitting, still enjoying the softness of the comforter under my bare bottom.
It kept me from sitting on the hot sand underneath.
Elegina caught one of my wrists. Her breasts loomed into my back,
bulging. She was swift. She was a cat prowling for prey. My other wrist
was caught. As I tried to hold my soda steady she pulled them back. I
resisted. It was arm wrestling. Slowly she yanked my wrists behind my
back. I heard a click of metal. Some of my soda spilled on the comforter.
I drew in my breath sharply. The metal of the handcuffs came down
like jaws of fish taking the bait from my fishing pole. First one, then the
other. For each one I gasped. A gasp of my breath in offering.
�Sit close. I will feed you,� Elegina said. She took my soda from me.
I shivered, despite the heat. I let myself be drawn next to her. Gazing at
Martin, at his hardness, I let my head fall upon her shoulder. My blonde
hair interwove itself lightly upon her blonde hair. She smiled. She drew a
little sandwich from the picnic basket and fed it to me. Martin gazed out
across the sand. His member throbbed. �The first couple of times you�ll
need the relaxant,� Elegina whispered to me. Girls sharing secrets. �He
would hurt you too much otherwise. He is ruthless when he fucks. And, as
you can see, he is quite large.� Yes. I could see. Deep down I knew it was
what had drawn me to him. That and his hardness. Not of penis, but of
mind. I had loved Lancelot, but Martin�s hardness had won me. The Black
Knight. My Black Knight. Or was I just a fair maiden caught up by the
roadside, to be fucked and then tossed away?
Martin�s head turned, his eye caught mine. �Do not be afraid,� he
said to me. �I am not ruthless as I once was. But I am demanding. I don�t
want to fool around trying to get you to relax for me. I want to go right up
you.�
Elegina twirled a finger in my hair. �Don�t look so forlorn,� she
smiled. �Arab women beg him every time we go into the city. To be taken
back with him, to be made one of his possessions. And European women
too. But he denies most of them. He doesn�t care. You won him easily.
You should be proud. Spread your legs so he can admire your pussy. Why do
you keep them clipped together? Open yourself for him. You must learn to
open yourself so you will not need the relaxant after awhile. He will get
you open regardless, do not fight it.� She pushed my knees apart with her
hand. I let them fall apart, my legs, let my pussy be seen. Martin gazed at
it, smiled at me, a pirate�s grin. �You will be fun to open up,� he said
simply.
We ate there on the sand, the shade slowly shifting, the Arab nomads
watching. Camels neighed in the distance. One of them mounted another.
We watched, the Arabs watched. Songbirds from the desert, come for the
water at the oasis, flitted among the tree branches above us. One, perhaps
two, perhaps a couple making love and making a nest.
The wind ruffled my hair. There was an elegance to the dinner party,
me still in my altered pajamas, my pussy, my ass showing for the
convenience of my master. Elegina fed me as one might a bird in a cage. I
felt like one, admired, loved, but handcuffed. I could not fly. In my new
black heels I probably could not rise and stand too easily. The heels were
long, sharp. I was a prisoner. My bottomcheeks spread softly on the
comforter. My anus widened somewhere within the cleft, knowing it must,
feeling the softness of the comforter pushing up into it. A more direct
assault would be upon it shortly.
�It is time,� Elegina said at last. She took a napkin and wiped
crumbs from my mouth. �Finish your soda. It will make your breath
sweet.�
�No,� I said, but she poked the straw into my mouth. I sucked. I
finished the orange liquid. Cream soda would come next. Up my ass,
though, not into my mouth. Elegina unlocked my hands. Our dinner party
was over. I was surprised at the unlocking. Yet why should I be? Could I
escape? I was a captive still, a European girl out in the desert, far from
home. Martin�s bulk hovered near. His riding crop lay forgotten nearby. I
did not want him to remember it.
�Get on your knees,� Martin said. �Your beauty is making me
impatient.� He put his hand to his cock and rubbed it. Freely he rubbed it,
letting the Arabs watch him. He looked away from me, at them. He
laughed a wicked laugh. He sneered at them.
�Do as you are told,� Elegina said to me. �Here, I will help you. You
are so young to play these games.� With loving hands she rolled me off my
bottom and got me on all fours. She laid the syringe aside and put the soft
pillow beneath my head. She pressed my face down onto it. My lips
mouthed the pillow. I hid my eyes within it. I felt my bottom, high rising,
a moon floating above the desert. I felt all eyes were upon it.
�Lovely,� Elegina said, stroking my silky soft flesh. She opened a
sterile napkin packet and swabbed a place down in the intimate
undercheek portion of my ass.
�You can stick it in her thigh if you want, the effect will be the
same,� Martin told her.
�I know, darling. I�m a nurse. Isn�t that why you chose me?� Elegina
replied. There was a hint of jealousy in her voice. �It will hurt more here.
The sting will be deeper.� I felt a stab then, deep, like a javelin thrust
deep into my girlishness. It was as slim as a stiletto, like an icicle
dropped from the rooftop, impaling the little girl down below. It was my
own innocence that was being impaled, I knew, a Jamaican voodoo doll
with the pins being stuck into it.
Tears welled in my eyes. Elegina noticed them, did not brush them
away. I sniffled. She uncoiled the enema tube. She lubed the tip. Martin
watched, stroking himself aimlessly, caring, not caring, I could not tell.
Workmanlike in her manner, as if about to milk a cow, Elegina got behind
me. She massaged the cheeks of my bottom to help me relax. Then,
parting me rudely, clinically, like a nurse might in a hospital, she stuffed
the tubing up my ass.
Oh, I fought her at first. I tried to close my little anus-mouth
against her. But it was no use, the relaxant was having its effect already.
Up me she went, then farther, following the twists and curves of my
intestines inside me.
Then the fluid was loosed. It flooded in. She controlled the flow
with a little knob. I felt like I was full to bursting, finally. It did not
take long. She kissed my bottom. She withdrew the tube.
The picnic basket was edged up behind me. Martin and Elegina got on
either side of me. �Ready to empty?� Elegina asked. I nodded. They lifted
me bodily. I was seated on the edge of the picnic basket and my bowels
emptied into it. Somehow the basket did not leak. It was lined inside, I
guessed. The fluid gushed from me and at last I sat perched on the edge of
the basket, my lovers holding me, poised between one perversion and the
next.
�Onto your knees,� Martin said. I was placed back onto all fours, my
head forced down again into the pillow. The basket was taken away.
Martin got behind me, snorting, a monster about to go where no man had
gone before. Into the little earthling, the little earth girl. We have come
to serve girls. That is why we have come to earth. To serve them with
our big cocks.
�Oooch!� I cried out. I balled my fist into my mouth. I felt him
poking at me, then surging within. My anus was sleepy. It opened wide
upon him, drugged. I was desperate to resist but I could not.
Deep, deeper, up me he went. Full inside now, thrusting hard. He
was too hard. He was too vicious. He began to rod me, uncaring, like a dog.
I cried out for him to stop.
�Open, yourself,� came to me from somewhere in the distance.
Elegina�s voice. The words came rippling into me like from a dream. I
seemed to feel him moderate the swiftness of his strokes. Or was it just
the relaxant? In and out he went, Elegina fingering me now, finding my
spot. She rubbed me down below as he porked me in behind, his huge
sausage sawing in and out of me.
I came. Honey moistening my lips, I came. All shuddering I came.
Elegina wanted hers, then. She plopped her bottom onto my pillow, placed
my face right up between her thighs. She lifted her skirt. She wore no
panties. In the stillness of the desert I had not realized her nakedness
underneath. Her waiting pussy she shoved into my face. I licked, I drove
my tongue into her as Martin shoved himself in and out of me from behind.
Three Europeans in the desert, protected by a fence, we blasphemed
ourselves before Allah in the hot sands. Before the followers of Allah.
Khomeini would behead us. In the hot desert he would behead us, with the
songbirds making their nest in the branches above our heads.
Martin finished. He withdrew, his crime against nature done. I felt
his sperm bubbling in my ass. He had injected me with it. His big syringe
had made me take everything he had to give. His balls slowly sagged
beneath him. I was grateful. I hoped they would be long in refilling,
though I knew they would not be. He sat back. He restored himself within
his pants, zipped himself up. Elegina loosed the knot at her belly and
covered herself again with her shirt. �Get up, darling,� she said. She
stood on the comforter, lifted me. The maid would come later to fetch the
detritus of our picnic.
Stiff-legged, wobbly-bottomed, I rose. I was a newborn yearling
just come into the world. Martin did not look at me. He seemed not to
care. I was just another pet, here today in my youth, gone tomorrow. I
stepped off the comforter. Elegina held my hand. I brushed my hair from
my face. I walked carefully in my high heels. Martin walked ahead. He did
not seem to think of us anymore. We followed, like Japanese women we
followed, faithfully. We walked across the sand back to the house. Inside
it was cool.
�Go to your room,� Elegina told me. �Take a bath when you wish, or
sleep, the maid will bring you food later.�
I traipsed up the stairs. My bottom hurt. I was alone, unwanted now.
Master was finished with me for the day. I wished to escape. The Arabs
would feed me and care for me. They would appreciate me. But they were
humble traders, nomads, between here and nowhere, lost in the desert as I
was lost in the huge house, unknowing.
I did not go to my room. I was too young, too curious. I had the blood
of youth in me, mischief. I crept into the library. I sat in master�s big
leather chair. I felt my asscheeks open on it. Sperm bubbled from my
rosehole. I did not care. Let his chair be stained. It was his sperm,
anyway.
OUT WITH THE OLD
IN WITH holy joe
I�m busy making resolutions for the New Year. (I don�t have to keep
them until January, so I figure it�s all a �pain free� thing right now.) First,
only one hour of Penthouse per day. I might still hit their site 150 times
per day, but I�m going to shorten my visits so they only add up to one hour.
Also, clean underpants. I promise myself I�ll wash my underpants at least
once a month so the little girls don�t jump away from me when I get on the
bus. And, finally, No Masturbating. I am going to cut this aspect of my
life out entirely. I might still buy Playboy, and Penthouse, and Hustler,
and Cunts Unlimited, but I am promising myself that I am not ever going to
jack off over them ever again. I will just look at them, and then bag them
in archival-safe polypropylene bags with acid-free backer boards. That�s
it. No taking them into the toilet or anything. No thinking about them at
night when I�m asleep in the laundry bin. No showing them to the girls at
Burger Thing and asking them if they have panties on like the girls in the
magazine do. I am going to join Promise Keepers and keep my hands
outside my pants where they belong.
I�m sure it won�t be too hard to get a date. I mean, yes, having a
giant hard on when you ask a girl if she�s interested in �going out� is kind
of a giveaway, but I figure if I bend forward enough I might get away with
her not noticing. (Plus, I�d be able to get a better look at her tits when I
ask her.) I will have to control the drooling, though. But, if I�m bending
forward, she stands less of a chance of seeing me drool, unless I drool
right on her feet or something.
Maybe if I get really drunk on New Year�s I�ll pass out until Spring
Break. Then I wouldn�t have to actually keep any resolutions because too
much of the year would have passed by already. But I could still
congratulate myself for having made such fine resolutions. And between
now and then I could tell everybody all about my resolutions so they think
highly of me. There is also another option here. If I go to the Penthouse
Web site on December 31, 1996, and stay there until December 31, 1997,
I�d get the benefit of having all my resolutions intact without ever having
had a chance to think about them.
AND IN THE END...
EXON, HERE�S A COUNTRY FOR YOU:
�The government of Myanmar has outlawed the unauthorised
possession of networked computers on pain of 15 years in prison.� - The
Economist, October 19, 1996, pg. 17.
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-END OF 142 EMISSION