Andrew Roller Presents
                                          FUCK DECENCY
                                          Issue No. 171

                              Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                            Puppy Love

                                           Chapter One

         Suddenly the door to our room opened.  Rachel turned her face, seeing 
as I did the huge figure in the doorway.
         �Master!� we both cried.  For a moment we stood spellbound as he 
regarded us.  Myself, cut loose from my wrist rope, perhaps without his 
permission, standing nude on the bed with my pillow upraised to defend 
myself.  And Rachel, flunking surely as a newly appointed teacher, with 
her blouse ripped open and her skirt down round her knees, one leg just 
lifted up, planting a foot on the bed so she could get up on it to fight me.
         Master stood calmly, cooly, his face shadowed by the lit hallway at 
his back.  In his hands he held a strap, his own belt, looped double.  He still 
wore his fine suit that he�d met me in earlier.  �Girls,� he said, his voice 
deep, commanding.  �There will be some extra training for you both.  Right 
now, though, I want you both to settle down.  I�m entertaining some guests 
upstairs.  It�s a good thing I was getting a book from the library when I 
heard you.  If I�d had to come all the way downstairs, and I�m sure I would 
have from the noise you were making, there would be a demotion in store 
for you, Rachel.  And Barbi, you wouldn�t be getting the good night�s sleep 
I�m sure you need for the all the things I have planned for you tomorrow.�
         �We�ll be good, master!� Rachel said hastily.  
         �Hmmm,� master said, smacking his lips.  He sounded as if he were 
sucking on a lozenge.  �And you, Barbi?  Can you contain yourself until I 
have time for you tomorrow?�
         �Yes, master,� I answered, full of love and admiration for him.  He 
was so tall, so eerily handsome.  A woman appeared suddenly beside him.  
A woman I had not seen before.  Nor Rachel, from the look on her face.  She 
was ravishingly dressed in a daring, full-length party gown.  It sparkled 
with sequins.  She held a drink, delicately balanced.
         �Are these your little playmates?� she asked.  I felt suddenly 
mortified.  Rachel seemed to share my humiliation.
         �My naughty playmates,� he answered.  �Behaving like little girls in 
here.�
         �Why don�t you let me handle them for you?� the woman asked.  
Snakelike, her fingers stole onto master�s belt.
         �Alright,� he agreed, to Rachel and my shared horror.  She took the 
belt.  Another woman appeared behind her.
         �Oh, good!  Something funny�s about to happen!  Look, dear!� the 
woman proclaimed.  A man appeared.  Middle-aged, not particularly 
handsome.  Someone I wouldn�t say two words to in the street.
         Our tormentress advanced.  �Kneel down, girls,� she said.  �On the 
floor, please.  Each of you put your pillow under your knees.  I know how 
much your master values you.�  Trembling, our eyes agape, Rachel and I 
dropped to our knees beside the bed.  I felt like a mounted boar�s head, my 
knees atop the big pillow I�d been holding.  It kept them protected from the 
room�s hard wooden floor.  �Faces on the bed,� the woman commanded.
         �Please, master!� Rachel begged, but put her face flat on the bed 
just as quickly as I.  There was no telling what might happen if we didn�t 
obey.  I had already learned the value of quick obedience here.  �Legs apart 
a little more, girls,� the woman told us.  We pushed our knees out from 
each other until they were at either end of our pillows.  �Such nice little 
sexes,� the woman said, bending to admire our proffered pouches.  The 
other guests advanced, bent low, admired us.  I grabbed the coverlet of the 
bed and held tight.  With my teeth I bit into it.  I saw Rachel doing the 
same.  Suddenly she blanched.  Someone had doused her bottom with a 
drink!
         �Hurts more wet, dear,� the unknown man�s voice said.  It was him 
who had done it!  His wife, no better looking than he, splashed my ass with 
alcohol.  I flinched at the slight sting.
         WHAAAP! came suddenly, making Rachel cry out as the strap hit her 
hard across her offered peach.  I knew the scent of fear, wished I at least 
had her blouse, her jacket, short as they were, her skirt too, though it 
banded uselessly round her knees.
         SWWWWAP!  I jerked as my own bottom bounced under the lash.  
         �That�s all,� master said.  He retrieved the belt.  For a moment 
Rachel and I just stared at one another, expecting worse.  I heard the 
guests exit.
         �Utter trollops,� I heard the unattractive woman say.  �For the life 
of me, Shaftsbury, I haven�t the least idea why you keep them.�
         �For amusement,� our master answered, which made me feel as 
uncomfortable as my bottom.
         Rachel stood, a little unsteady.  I rose up also, to get away from the 
belt, if nothing else.  Ruefully we each took hold of our bottom cheeks.  
Master looked down at us expectantly.
         �Thank you for sparing us, master,� Rachel offered.  She rose on her 
tip-toes and he bent down and accepted a kiss from her.  �Thank you,� I 
said in turn, honoring him with a kiss of my own, right on his lips, tasting 
Rachel�s lipstick.
         �If I hear either of you again it will be a different story,� he told us.  
�You�re only being spared because I�ve got other things to attend to.�  We 
both nodded obediently.  �Tomorrow your training will start,� he told me.  
�Don�t expect it to be easy.�  I said nothing.  I lowered my eyes.  He caught 
me by the chin and lifted it.  �Do you love me?� he asked.
         �Yes, master,� I answered.  �With all my heart.�  He grabbed me by 
the back of my neck, a handful of my long hair spilling within and over his 
hand, and bent me right over until I was face-to-face with my knees.  
         WHACK!  His free palm scorched my bottom once, splatting across 
both my cheeks.  
         �Yeeeow!� I cried, unhappily.  I felt like a sack of potatoes, except 
they weren�t known for having spankings.
         �Yes, you�ve been very bad!� I heard next, and felt a patter of female 
handslaps rain over my upended rear.
         �Ow!  Ow!  Ow!� I yelped, glad though, that Rachel�s hand had replaced 
master�s.  He let go and before I could stand he took Rachel, her dress still 
at her knees, and bent her over and gave her the same ear-shattering, 
bottom-splatting blow I�d had.
         �Boo!  Hoo!  Hoo!� Rachel cried, clearly upset at receiving the final 
humiliation.  Master stomped from the room and closed the door behind us.  
         �See what you�ve done?� Rachel asked me.  We stood facing each 
other, ruefully, rubbing our hineys like toon characters who�d just got 
their bottoms burned.  Hello Kitty, meet My Little Pony.  Rachel shook her 
proud ponytail, let go of her fanny, and bent and pulled up her skirt.  �You 
need to behave better,� she scolded me.  I stood watching as she buttoned 
back up the remnants of her shirt.  Her boobies wiggled, not sure they 
wanted to be encased in the starch again.
         �I�m sorry,� I said, suddenly abashed.  I was less sorry than selfish, 
though.  I didn�t want her sharing in the spotlight master had reserved for 
me.  �Tell me what to do and I�ll just do it, no questions asked.�
         �Firstly, you are going to behave, or I�ll report you to Tara and 
Jasmine.  They have secret ways of making somebody wish she�d done as 
she was told, �cause they�re part lesbians, not like you and me.  Are you a 
lessie?� she asked.  There was an accusing tone in her voice.
         �No,� I said.  I looked down at my toes and wiggled them at myself.
         �And quit wiggling your toes!� Rachel scolded me.  �That was the 
start of our trouble last time.  I should have stopped you the minute I saw 
it!�  I ceased my wrigglings.  I kept my head down, though.  I wished 
master would return, and do whatever he had planned for me.  I did not like 
waiting for it.  It made it worse, waiting.  I guessed he knew that.  Would I 
win him with my performance?  Would I make him all my own?  If I did, I�d 
send Rachel and Tara and Jasmine packing.  This would be my house, and 
we�d move it to Rio, or the North Pole perhaps, where I�d keep master 
penned up in an igloo and put and end to his wayward ways.  I�d tame him, I 
would!  Please him and tame him in my pleasing of him.  Until he could 
never think of being with anyone else ever again.
         �...time for your bath,� I heard Rachel telling me.  �Come this way.  I 
drew it an hour ago, I guess it was, thanks to your getting us in trouble.  I 
put in bubbles and everything, but they�re probably gone now.  We�ll have to 
make a whole new one!�  She marched me from the room, ahead of her.  We 
went down the hall, around the corner, and into a small bathroom.  Rachel 
shut the door.  She bent over, felt the temperature of the water with her 
hand.
         �Yep!� she announced with disgust.  �All gone cold.  I should make 
you wash in it anyway.  Drain it out and fill it up again, young lady!  Hop to 
it!�  
         No sooner had she issued her order than Rachel hiked up her skirt and 
sat herself down on the potty.  �I�m glad our punishment didn�t last any 
longer,� she proclaimed.  I heard a splashing sound.  �I drank too much at 
dinner.  Cranberry juice.  My favorite, but it makes me pee.�
         �I need to go too,� I said.
         �Take care of the tub first,� Rachel ordered.
         �Okay,� I answered.  Conscious of my bottom, not wanting to moon 
her, I bent my knees to get my hand down into the water and the drain at 
its base.  I lifted the drain and the water began to recede.
         �We�ll be using a scrub brush,� Rachel said, wiping herself.  �And I�ll 
be doing the scrubbing, to make sure you get totally clean.�  I saw the 
brush, lifted it.  It was long-handled.  I ran my fingers over its prickly 
business-end.  
         �Don�t do my nipples with it,� I begged.  I could just see her 
scrubbing her heart out, and my titties were as stiff as cherry stems.  
They felt utterly sensitive.
         �I�ll be doing all parts of you, it�s my job,� Rachel said, standing up 
and pulling up her skirt.  Her blouse looked silly the way it was half torn, 
half-buttoned, missing a button in the middle so the inner curves of her 
breasts showed.  I saw she had little peaks of her own beneath the 
conservative shirt.
         �If you do well as a slave you�ll become a teacher, like me!� she said.  
She walked over to me, took the brush from my hands.  �Get in,� she 
admonished.  She put a hand to my rear and I stepped into the tub.  I did not 
like being a slave to her.  It seemed too childish.  I wished Tara would 
return.
         Suddenly the bathroom door opened.  Rachel turned.  I heard her gulp.  
Was master reading my mind?  It was the woman with the sequined dress.  
She had a severe, uncompromising look about her.  With predatory eyes she 
regarded me.  She was wearing her very expensive gown, as she had when 
she spanked the both of us with master�s strap.  �I�ll be seeing to Barbi�s 
bath, and yours,� she said to Rachel.
         �Mine?!� Rachel asked, aghast.  Quietly the woman closed the 
bathroom door and came over to us.  She moved with a slow, quiet grace.  
She was older than both of us.  Late 20�s, perhaps, early 30�s.  �Get in the 
tub,� she told Rachel.  
         �But I--� Rachel began.  The next thing I knew she was splashing 
beside me, fully dressed in her uniform.  Both of us stood as the last of 
the water drained with a snarl from the tub.  �But these are my new 
shoes!� Rachel cried.  She did not like getting them wet.
         �Master gave them to you, and you�ve not worn them at all,� the 
woman replied.  �I should hardly think they�re too dirty to take a swim in 
the tub!�
         �But they�re not meant for swimming!� Rachel moaned.
         �Now they are,� the woman replied.  �Bend over and plug the drain.  
Start the water, Barbi.  I obeyed, turning on the water as Rachel bent low 
to stopper the drain.  
         �Hey!  Don�t get my hair wet!� Rachel cried.  I loosed the water and 
she just barely managed to get her precious dangling ponytail out of the 
way.  
         �Both of you, sit down!� our new Mistress of the Bath told us.  
         �But I�ve--� Rachel began.
         The woman lifted the back of Rachel�s skirt and whacked her bottom 
with the scrub brush.  �Not another word, young lady!  It�s bath time!�  
Thus encouraged, we both plopped down into the water without further 
protest.  I might have squatted on my heels, but given her demeanor, I sat 
right down on my fanny, and poor Rachel did too.
         �It�s no fun taking a bath in my clothes,� Rachel griped.  �I�M 
supposed to be the teacher!�
         �Well now I am,� the woman replied.  �But you may simply call me 
Anna.�  Something about her casual use of her first name did not calm my 
fear of her.  I felt like we were little animals, pets, like the toy doggies 
women sometimes keep for their amusement.
         �I have to go to the bathroom,� I said hopefully, thinking I might be 
dismissed from the tub.  
         �Stand up then, dear,� Anna said.  I did so, lifted my knee to 
surmount the tub wall.  Anna caught it with her hand.  �No dear,� she said.  
She sprinkled powder from a box of Mr. Bubble into the rapidly filling tub.  
�Stand over Rachel.�  I turned.  She guided me with a gentle hand, pressing 
against my fanny.  I could feel her long nails indenting my flesh there.  It 
felt like she could tear my skin open at any moment.  �Straddle Rachel, one 
leg on either side of her.�  I did as she said, placing my palms atop 
Rachel�s head so I could get her face twixt my thighs.
         �Now pee,� Anna told me.

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                                        AND IN THE END...

                                        ARMED AND FREE

�The gun, more than the vote, is the citizen�s insurance against being 
told what to think, how to act, and whom to obey.  ...The gun implies 
that, in Madison�s words, �the people, not the government, possess the 
absolute sovereignty.��

-The Economist, December 21, 1996, pg. 31.

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-END OF 171 EMISSION
    

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