Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 270
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Three
A young woman walked into the parlor. It was the neatly dressed
maid who�d attended to Polly and I on our first night. She had on her
traditional maid�s costume, complete with its perky white hat and apron,
plus a skirt made of black cloth that was shorter than any maid might
wear in ordinary employment, but not so short as to show anything if she
was careful not to bend over.
�Kelly, take these two to the nursery,� Rose told her. She pointed at
the two kindergarten girls. �They�re frisky. Best to put both of the them
naked in the baby pool and give them some toys. Is little Johnnie about?�
�Yes�m, he�s been showing me his cock repeatedly this morning and I
don�t know what to do!� Maria said. There was a look of exasperation in
her voice.
�Well, he can go swimming with these two,� Rose said. �They�re all
the same age. There should be no harm in it.� She turned and cocked an
eyebrow at the girls� mother. She nodded, just a small nod, but enough to
show her approval.
�I played with boys when I was their age. It was... fun,� the girls�
mother said. �No fucking, of course.�
�Of course not,� Rose answered. �I�ll make sure no perverts barge
into their nursery. And Kelly,� she turned her head. �Make sure Johnnie
doesn�t get out of hand.�
�Yes�m. I don�t think he knows of such things, actually,� she replied.
�He seems not to know yet that he can diddle himself.
�Right. Well, these two will teach him that, I�m sure,� Rose replied.
Kelly beckoned to the two girls and they leapt from the chair they
were sharing. They were eager to get out of the stuffy parlor. Their
mother lifted a hand to call them to kiss her goodbye. Rose caught her
hand, held it. She shook her head �no.� The girls raced from the room and
Kelly had to run to catch them. Her dress flipped up in back and I saw the
girls� father gaze with interest at her pantied rear.
�Well, let�s get started then,� Rose said to the girls� mother as soon
as they�d left. �Stand up and take off your clothes.�
�My..?� the young mother protested.
�Show me everything you�ve got, darling. Don�t be ashamed of
yourself. You look to me like you�ve got a great body! I�ll need to see your
cunt to see what birthing those two darling girls has done to your sex.
And your breasts, too, to see what effect nursing has had. Precious little,
I�ll bet. I think most of your inhibitions are just in your mind. But don�t
worry, dear, we�ll rid you of those here at Cunt Castle!� She smiled as she
spoke the name of the place. I felt my tummy tighten and, looking at the
mother, I know hers did. What an awful name! Yet the mother, with her
husband prodding her, stood up. She fiddled with the buttons on her blouse.
�We�ll take her right upstairs and give her a good caning to get her
nice and weepy,� Rose told the young mother�s husband. �Yes, dear,
everything. Take your clothes right off. You�ll be crying and moaning and
showing us how nicely your ass wiggles in a few minutes. Don�t be shy.
There�s no point to it. Here at Cunt Castle all must be seen, and
continuously too. You won�t have need of any clothes for days to come!�
�Oh, I don�t want to,� the mother whined. Her knees bent and her
legs seemed about to collapse underneath her. Yet, somehow, she kept her
fingers working, and I watched as the buttons of her blouse opened,
showing her belly and her curves.
Louis and Andre stared past us. I think they were fascinated by the
sight of this young mother shedding her purity and agreeing to be broken in
at the castle. Her husband developed a pronounced tent in his pants. Polly
and Cheyenne and I, not able to sit, stood and watched as the mother
undressed herself. Her blouse fell away. She reached behind herself and
unzipped her dress.
�Oh, what is happening?� I heard a youthful voice cry. My head
snapped toward the doorway. It was one of the twins! Kelly appeared and
scooped her up.
�But what is mommie doing?� the girl asked.
�She�s undressing, dear,� Kelly answered. She sounded distressed.
�But this isn�t our house,� the little one persisted. I heard no more.
Her mother, blushing, continued removing her clothes. She reached back
and unhooked her bra. It popped open. She shed it. Her tits proved large
and firm. Nursing had not harmed them. I was glad. I wanted babies too,
but I didn�t want to lose my figure.
The young wife slid off her panties.
�Mmm, a nice bush,� Rose said. She lifted a hand and plucked at it
with her fingers. �Turn around, dear. Show me your ass.� The young
mother gulped and turned on her feet. Behind her the plump fullness of her
ass spread out before Rose�s gaze. Motherhood had broadened her seat and
given it a mature look. It was quite different from Polly�s slim little ass,
which still resembled the twins�.
�Oh, I should like to go swimming in a baby pool too,� Polly sighed.
�There is a nursery for big girls up in the attic,� Rose said, turning
to Louis and Andre. �Please take your young women up there.�
But Louis ignored Rose. �Sir,� he said, speaking to the twins� father.
�If I may, I would love to fuck your wife for you.�
�Oh, Brent! You would NEVER!� the young mother blurted. She turned
to her husband.
�It would be a waste of opportunities if he didn�t,� Rose suggested
to the father.
�Could I ask for a trade?� the father, Brent, replied to my Louis.
�Which do you prefer?� Louis asked. He passed his hand in a
sweeping gesture along the level of our bottoms. We stood like children
before Brent, although across the room from him.
�I�d like all three,� Brent answered. �My wife�s worth it.�
�Sounds okay,� Andre nodded to Louis. �We could both do her.�
�Louis!� I cried. I turned and looked at my lover. Would he give me
away so easily to a man we didn�t even know?
�Agreed,� Louis said. He stood. He and Andre and Brent all got up
and shook hands on the matter.
�I�ll have you fitted into your butt belt later,� Rose reminded me.
Was I still to be widened for Louis even though he gave me away so
cavalierly? I didn�t like that.
�Good morning girls,� Brent said. He came up to us and eyed us like a
farmer at an auction of domesticated animals. He was tall and good-
looking. But still, he was older than Louis, and did not have Louis� broad
build. �Let�s go up to the attic,� he said. He gestured for us to lead the
way to the door. Louis and Andre, meanwhile, made the acquaintance of
Brent�s wife. She was as nude as ourselves now, and I guessed we�d all be
feeling like tarts before the day was over.
To get to the attic we found we had to climb up a ladder. To my
dismay, Brent stood below and watched as, one by one, Polly and Cheyenne
and I climbed up. Our tushies, still red from our spankings the day before,
shimmied as we climbed. There was nothing we could do to keep him from
staring at the full glory of our fannys, right into our clenching cracks,
showing our bottomholes as we lifted our legs up to the next rung. They
were widely spaced, as if to force us to show ourselves more freely. Of
course our cunts were completely at the mercy of his prying eyes. I tried
to cover myself with my hand but sighed aloud as I realized climbing a
ladder one-handed, especially one with such widely spaced rungs, just
wasn�t safe.
Polly went up first. Brent watched her with a father�s attentive
eye, as if afraid she might fall. Next Cheyenne went, and finally myself.
There was a trap door at the top but Polly managed to lift it to let us
through.
�Oh, swings!� I heard Polly exclaim. By the time I got up I found
she�d gone to a small swingset in the attic and was pushing at a swing
with her hands. It was an infant swing. It had a full seat, rising right up
to the waist, a kind of bucket, actually, but with leg holes for the
passenger�s legs to stick through. And there was a third hole, between the
twin leg holes, for something...
Stepping closer, I saw the third hole between the leg holes wasn�t
the only addition to the attic�s infant swings. Down below, where our
seats might sit, there was a hole through which some object might be
pushed into the fanny.
�Would you like to swing?� Brent asked Polly.
�Oh yes, please!� Polly exclaimed. �I like swinging.�
�Polly,� I cautioned. I felt I should warn her about the extra holes.
But before I could, Brent had lifted her up, just like one might lift up a
baby. Polly�s legs wiggled as he slotted her into the seat and fitted her
legs through the swing�s leg holes.
�Wheee!� Polly shouted. Brent got behind her and began pushing her
in the swing.
�Oh, I�ll do it!� Cheyenne offered. She seemed happy about the swing,
as happy as Polly. Neither of them noticed what I did. There was a
generous hole over Polly�s slit, through which Brent might introduce some
unwanted object right into her. And where her small bottom sat, there
was a hole through which he might push himself yet again.
When Polly had gotten her swing going nicely, Brent called Cheyenne
and I over to him. He sat down in a child�s chair next to a child�s table.
Cheyenne and I took seats of our own. They were small. They made my
knees stick up and my ass complained to me about their hard plastic
surface. Brent sat with his own legs spread out. There was a visible
spear growing in his crotch. It pointed straight up with his need.
Cheyenne looked happy. She seemed to enjoy being with this man. I
was ambivalent. It was all very well for her, perhaps, but my boyfriend
was downstairs fucking this man�s wife!
�You have a boner,� Cheyenne giggled. She gazed pointedly at Brent�s
erection.
�When I was in nursery school we always had ice cream!� Polly
called from her swing. �Chocolate or vanilla. Every day. Whichever we
wished!�
Brent thought a moment, then gazed about the room. �I want you two
to see if Polly can have some ice cream,� he told Cheyenne and I. �Maybe
there�s some Kool-Aid at least.�
�Alright,� I answered. I saw a small refrigerator next to a set of
toy cabinets. I went over to them, bent, letting him see (there was
nothing I could do otherwise) my bottom.
�Keep your legs apart!� Brent called to me. Ah, he knew the rules of
the castle. Reluctantly I widened my stance. He looked with interest at
my cunny, snug between my legs.
There was nothing in the toy cabinets except empty boxes and cans.
I knelt and opened the fridge. God must have blessed Polly. There, within,
stood two big tubs of ice cream. They were brand new. I lugged one out
and called Cheyenne over. We each brought one to the table. I found an ice
cream scooper in the toy cabinet.
�There aren�t any bowls,� I lamented.
�Catch, Polly!� Cheyenne called. She had opened her tub of ice cream.
It contained strawberry. She scooped out a ball of fresh strawberry ice
cream and flung the scoop at Polly.
�Aaack!� Polly cried. The ball of scooped ice cream struck her right
between her breasts. It slid down her tummy and nestled atop her slit.
�Ooooh, it�s cold!� Polly lamented. She picked up the ice cream, all
the same, and held it to her mouth and bit into it. �I don�t really like
Strawberry,� she said.
�Then have some Vanilla!� I cried. Getting into the spirit of things, I
scooped up vanilla from my own tub of ice cream and tossed it at her.
�You missed!� Polly replied. Sitting in her swing, she looked glumly
back at the place on the floor where my ice cream ball had landed.
�I�ll try again,� I said. I passed my hand over my forehead and
scooped up another scoop. I tossed it at her, aiming carefully.
�Ooooh, got it!� Polly said gleefully. Reaching out her hands, she
just barely managed to catch the ice cream. She put it to her lips and
began eating it, while the other scoop lay on her thigh. �Ooops!� she said.
Looking down, eating the vanilla, she saw that the strawberry scoop had
once again rolled down onto her slit. She picked it up, decided to try to
hold both scoops at once. She was beginning to look quite messy.
�What a clever idea,� Brent mused. He looked at Cheyenne and I.
�You two get on either side of me and throw ice cream at each other,� he
said.
I didn�t like the idea, but Cheyenne was pleasantly surprised by it.
She plunked down her tub on Brent�s left knee, while I put my tub on his
right. I found another ice cream scooper for her in the cabinet. Brent
unzipped himself so any lost ice cream might fall on his prick. We both
gasped as we saw how big he was. Not the size of Louis and Andre, but
still a worthy member. I felt a little better about entertaining him.
With our hair loose about our shoulders, our makeup still perfect
from our morning toilet, Cheyenne and I got on either side of Brent. We
eyed each other.
�Who�s first?� I asked Cheyenne.
�I don�t know. I guess I can go first,� she replied. �Say something
insulting to me.�
�You�re a slut,� I told her.
�Okay, now hold still while I throw my ice cream at you,� she said.
Brent waited, watching us both, stroking his prick. Cheyenne stuck her
tongue out the corner of her mouth and scooped up a big scoop of ice cream
from her tub. Then she gazed at me, while I stood across from her with
my hands on my hips.
Take Heart, Christians!
KIDDIE PORN FOR ONLY $3.00 !!!
SPY, June 1997, $3.00. e-mail: Spy Magaz@aol.com
Review: You can imagine my shock when I saw this word in blazing
green letters on the cover of this eminently reputable magazine:
�JAILBAIT�
Standing behind this word are three teenaged females. They are
wearing soft clothing, and small cottony socks. One of them is holding a
teddy bear.
Sweaty palmed, vegetable-brained, 40-word vocabulary moron that I
am, I promptly dropped Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Club, Swank, Club
International, and Mayfair and grabbed this issue. Could it be true? Could
I really buy kiddie porn at Tower Books and take it home and whack off to
it?
As you know, ANY photo of any female under the age of 18, even of a
female in an eskimo�s parka, is illegal under American law if the image
has the potential of conjuring up �lascivious� thoughts in the mind of the
viewer. (And any photo of an over-aged female is illegal too, under the
Hatch Act, if it creates the impression in the mind of the viewer that the
female might be under 18.)
So I was both shocked and pleased, and not sure which feeling was
greater.
Nonetheless I bought the magazine. (I hope no police are reading
this.)
What a delight this issue is! The article on �JAILBAIT� girls begins
with the lead, �Lights of our Lives, Fire of our Loins.� It goes on to depict
many, many breathtaking young underage females. The youngest is Natalie
Portman (pg. 46). (You didn�t think I�d forget to mention her, did you,
Christians?)
Try as I might, I just couldn�t manage to jack off to Chelsea Clinton
(pg. 42-43). (After all, she�s almost in college!)
However, I did jack off MANY times to the (anonymous) girl on pg. 6.
Sure, she�s not as young as Natalie, but she�s still worth a good jack.
When I was done jacking off to all the girls in this issue, I finally
got around to reading the article. Guess what? SPY magazine�s article is
actually full of feminist claptrap, DAMNING males who like little girls.
But any pervert knows this is just a wise tactic, to avoid prosecution for
printing and distributing kiddie porn.
Of course it is sick and perverse for any man to like little girls.
That�s why I print FUCK DECENCY, to give men the opportunity to be moral,
by NOT reading this e-zine. (Of course, if you do read it, there�s not much
I can do about it.)
Being a good citizen, I promptly signed SPY magazine up to a free
subscription to FUCK DECENCY. I wanted to help them be moral, just like
I�m (hopefully) helping you. But after only one issue, SPY�s e-mail address
went �user unknown.�
How could this be? Is SPY on the lam? Are they already being
pursued by the Feds? Or are they too busy to get e-mail from ANYONE,
because they�re off making more kiddie porn?
Please, if you are reading this, do me a favor. Please go down to
your local bookstore and buy up all the copies of SPY. I don�t want any
little boys, or teenage boys, or little girls for that matter, seeing this
issue. (After all, it�s not sold in the �adult� section. It�s sold right next to
TIME and Newsweek.) Girls might see this issue and think they can be
sexy. Boys might see this issue and notice that there are girls in the
world. And, worst of all, Men might see this issue, and buy it and take it
home and jack off to it. (Like me!)
Thank you for doing your civic duty, even if you are being bad by
reading this e-zine.
(That includes you, Christians. Quit reading all this smut and
claiming you�re doing it for �moral� purposes. You have cocks and cunts
just like the rest of us do.)
AND IN THE END...
�Being assigned to interview and profile a pubescent superstar is
about as good as it gets.�
- SPY, May/June 1997, pg. 48.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-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 270 EMISSION