FFUCK DECENCY 216 Private Places (nnd)
ROLLER 666
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 216
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Five
"Whew! What an adventure," Sam marvelled. For the first time he
seemed to see normally again, relieved of his lust. I watched unhappily
as his penis shrank and the coiled rings fell off, one by one. "Get me
out of these handcuffs!" he shouted. A maid glanced quickly at Emily.
She nodded, reluctantly, her approval. Sam was unlocked, he tore his arms
from the girl and the cuffs at the first opportunity and rose from his
chair in all his manly glory. Even as he stood his cock became erect once
more, so aroused was he by the sight of his wife bent over the bench, her
ass open and smarting. I was knocked off his leg like a forgotten toy.
He walked away from me and his chair, cocksure now, eager to have his wife
right where she lay. Emily dared not resist him. He was a loin in full
roar, and boar charging down upon its prey, a leopard running in fast for
the kill.
Sam straddled the bench. He prised apart his wife's asscheeks,
savoring their already well-spread state even as he opened them more.
Standing over her like Genghis Khan over a victim, rippling with power
from his toes to the tip of his cock, he licked his lips, and his eyes
took on a predatory gleam. Jill mewled behind her gag, tried to twist her
hips away. He slapped her bottom hard.
"Be still, girl! It is time," he said. Behind me I heard a
shuffling and rearranging as couples prepared to have their own amorous
combats in accompaniment with the bride and groom. A man approached me.
He sat down in Sam's chair and, without even having the grace to
unhandcuff me, bent me right over in front of him so that my cunnylips
were presented to his naked cock. He clasped me by my arms, drew them in
hard against my bent-over back, and in this way pulled my legs up close to
his loins. He shoved his dick right into my nest, spearing me in my
bent-down position, with my hair tickling my toes as my face was made to
observe my ankles. I wanted to watch Sam and Jill, but it was not to be.
I was fucked from behind, rudely and without compassion, by this man, as
my own groom did poor Jill up the ass. All was gruntings and bleatings
and screams of pleasure around me, as I myself began to cry out at the
swift and pounding intrusion of the man's prick up my cunt. I fought him
but it was no use. His powerful arms held me in place and he reamed me
repeatedly. I succumbed to him in the end, spasming with orgasms upon his
hard pole, until he at last jetted himself into my womb. He would father
my child, absent an abortion, I realized, and then I understood that Emily
had let the night go its own way, finally, letting her plans be spoiled so
that she could enjoy instead the raw urgency of the guests, each taking
pleasure as he or she saw fit, with the exception of Jill and myself who,
in our bonds, had to suffer whatever depredations others wished upon us.
Sam's raping of Jill's bottom did not abate her whipping. As
soon as he was done, Emily began again, letting her out of her gag
momentarily that she might sip some wine before her punishment began anew.
When Emily finished at last with Jill, I was put in her place,
implacably, the man who had bent me over tying me down himself. Then I
was bitted and whipped just as thoroughly as Jill had been, Emily
delighting in my torment, giving me smelling salts when I fainted, feeding
me bits of food to keep my strength up. I peed on the bench in my misery,
and was thrashed for it. At last Jill and I were put upon the bed and,
weeping at our fate, were raped by whichever men might have us, both of us
tied down so that we could not resist. Sam, for his part, amused himself
with other girls, though at last he shot the remnants of his seed into us,
to lay claim to us at night's end, so that other men might not take us
home with them instead.
Chapter Seven
I lay by the pool. It was early morning. We were not at the
condo pool, but at a private pool behind the house of a close friend of
Sam's. He had brought us there to recover from our bridal night. He sat
inside, eating breakfast with his friend and watching ESPN with him on
T.V. Jill and I lay in the warm morning sunshine, on soft towels spread
over chaise lounges. We had bikini tops on, but our bottoms were naked.
We could not bear to wear panties. I felt the rising sun upon my bottom.
It was red-striped and bruised from my visit to the whipping bench. My
cunt felt thoroughly violated, as did my bottomhole, though only Sam had
fucked me up the rear.
"Oooh, mine still hurts so," Jill confided in me, sleepily. We
both were exhausted from our long night together.
"I hurt all over," I replied, though in truth most of it was
confined to my loins.
"We're pregnant now, you know, though by God knows whom," Jill
said. Her tushy trembled. I felt my back shiver.
"I know," I answered.
"Do you want to give birth?" she asked.
"I don't think so."
"Me neither."
"Well, look at these two babes," Sam announced, stepping outside.
Despite his night of exertion, his cock stood up stiffly, ready to go
again. He walked over to us, his friend accompanying him. Out of
deference to Sam the man kept his own swimsuit on, though I saw it bulging
mightily in the crotch. We were Sam's women, not his. I guessed, though,
he expected to be given permission to fuck us later, after we'd recovered
a little more from our ordeal. Why else would he have allowed us to be
brought here? There must be a quid pro quo, and Jill and I were obviously
it.
"Sam, that was awful!" Jill said frankly, though she huddled down
in her her towel as she said it, clutching the ends of it with her hands,
as if still somehow on the whipping bench, certain to suffer an immediate
reprisal. My towel smelled sweet and fresh, like daisies. I'd been
bathed along with Jill in a bathtub a few minutes earlier, then told to go
out and lie down by the pool. Jill and I had donned bikini tops, just to
preserve our modesty. I could feel sleep filling me as I felt the sun
rise. Despite the dawning of a new day, I knew I didn't have much
strength left after my long night to stay awake. Neither, I guessed, did
Jill. Yet, standing over me now, leering down at me, was Sam's friend
Max, his erection politely hidden for the moment, but sure to spring out
at the first sign of permission.
"Girls, I want you to keep Max happy while I'm gone for a few
days," Sam said. "I'll be back when your bottoms have healed. Meantime,
Sam here enjoys helping wounded girls recover. He's studying to be a
doctor, and he's promised to do all he can to ease your pain and help you
get back on your feet." He turned to Max. "Though, I daresay, seeing
them waddle out to these chairs a few moments ago I think they may already
be well on the way back to health, Max, and may need to be fucked more
than anything else. Once, that is, their cunts can take it. This is
their honeymoon, you know. Don't disappoint them."
"Sam, what are you saying?!" Jill asked. She propped herself up
on one arm, wincing as the movement flexed her asscheeks.
"I'm saying that this is your honeymoon, you are both newlyweds,
and I've been called away," Sam replied. He grinned. I guessed he had
met some female or other and found he had an opportunity to fuck her for
the next few days, perhaps while her husband was out of town. Or maybe he
just had some new test for us to endure, to satisfy his increasingly
wicked sense of fun. "Max here is an experienced sadist. He will help
you recover and then give you both new things to do. I expect you both to
be shipshape when I return, and to report to me everything new that you've
learned, all the new skills and techniques. For myself, to be honest,
I've met two older women at the party last night, who insist I don't know
the first thing about being a groom. So they will help me, and Max here
has been selected by them to help you. It's a fair arrangement, in my
opinion, and the women convinced me it was necessary. So if you find
yourself being assigned some duty that seems unpleasant, don't feel bad,
the women promised to make me learn some new tricks too. I wanted to
include you, but they said it must just be me, all by myself, and them.
So it will be two of you with Max, learning and being trained, while I
undergo whatever the women have in store for me. Sorry, girls, but I
couldn't resist. I wasn't about to leave you two by yourselves at our
condo. You belong to me, after all. So I'm 'disposing' of you, as it
were, while I enjoy groom-training at the hands of the women." He turned
around then, and walked away, tall and sure of himself, challenged, I
guess, by the idea of taking on the two women. He would go alone to them,
and they and he would see which was master of the other. I realized it
was nothing a young girl like myself or a newlywed like Jill could provide
him with. And, no doubt, the women were married, I guessed, so time was
of the essence, before their husbands returned from whatever had taken
them away, leaving their wives to find entertainments for themselves.
"Sam, don't go," Jill begged, but her voice was soft, not loud,
as if she knew no male could resist such a sexual challenge.
"You will be challenged as well, my dear," Max answered, and,
looking up at him, seeing his mustache and his crewcut and his gleaming
eyes, I knew we would indeed be challenged, and I dreaded the thought of
it.
As soon as the sun grew hot Max took us inside. He said it was
bad for us to tan our wounded bottoms. He watched us as we walked, our
legs akimbo, our cunnies still hurting from being raped upon the bridal
bed. He showed us the greatest deference. He placed us in a bed
upstairs, tying our wrists lightly so that we might not escape, binding
them above our heads to the bed's headboard. Then he gave us each a
sleeping pill, to ease our pain, and off we both went to dreamland. The
last thing I felt as I fell asleep was his hand lightly caressing me
between my carelessly spread legs. I was too weak to close them. He
tickled me lightly, not intrusively, upon my cunny. His very sweetness
scared me, for I knew the greatest sadists prepared their victims with
gratuitous kindnesses, savoring their bodies even as they planned to
destroy them.
Three days passed. Our bottoms recovered more quickly than I'd
imagined possible. Our host let us have the run of his house. Jill and I
both understood that we were not permitted to leave, and we didn't try to,
knowing that it would be worse for us if we did, especially when Sam
returned. Our host shared meals with us, serving us our food, insisting
on being our slave. Just looking at his powerful, muscled body, though, I
knew he didn't plan to remain our servant forever. He was toying with us.
I could see it in his eyes. He was encouraging us to be bratty, so he
could punish us. Instead Jill and I were both on our best behavior. We
prayed Sam would return, find us well-behaved, and take us home, yet the
days passed and he did not come back.
I think we gradually became entranced by our captor. He was very
handsome, and he had a way of looking at us that sent shivers down our
spines, even as he behaved with textbook chivalry toward us, like Lancelot
courting Guinevere. Two Guineveres, in this case. His property was a
low, single-story house, but with a basement we were not permitted to
enter. He kept it locked at all times. Surreptitiously Jill and I
searched for the key in his drawers, but we could not find it. Trees
bunched close to his house, shrouding all but his pool in deep shade
throughout much of the day. I'd been too worn out to watch the scenery
pass as I'd been brought here on the fateful morning three days earlier,
but I sensed the nearest sign of civilization was some distance away, a
few miles maybe, or more. A high wall surrounded his house, and it was
topped with barbed wire. He insisted it was to keep out thieves, but Jill
and I knew better.
Songbirds flitted amongst the branches of the trees, giving the
whole place a quiet, tranquil air, putting Jill and I at our ease, even as
we wracked our minds trying to figure out what ultimately would happen to
us here. All the while our captor kept feeding us, brining us fine wines,
dressing us in new bikinis every morning, burning our old ones at night in
the fireplace after we'd gone to bed. Our wrists were tied to the
headboard each night, not too tight, and we were given pills to ensure
we'd sleep. The moon would pass by our window as we lay there, and we'd
awake refreshed in the morning, moon-kissed, ready for a day of swimming
in the pool and aimless hours of relaxation.
Breakfast of the fourth day Jill confronted our host. She and I
wore the fresh bikinis he'd laid out for us, flimsy little things, barely
kept on by picturesque bows that hugged us low on our hips.
"You're very nice, sir," Jill said, poking a finger into his bare
chest. He wore shorts, nothing else, an erection perpetually brimming in
his pants. "But Sam said you're a sadist, and you've yet to prove it,
though I can see just by your eyes that girls like me and Flurry here have
regretted knowing you."
I trembled a little, standing beside Jill in my wee bikini. We'd
played mind games with this man for three whole days, dreading with each
passing hour that this would be the hour he pounced on us. Now we could
stand it no longer. (Though, as I stood beside Jill, I thought perhaps I
might have stood his mental torment just a little longer, for his cock
stuck up ever more profoundly in his shorts and his eyes took on a mad,
crazy look, as if some deep urgent need had just been liberated in his
soul.)
Max flexed his arms. He had tremendous muscles. His chest
heaved once, then relaxed. His stomach rippled.
Jill and I both had developed nice tans from playing in the pool.
Only our breasts and bottoms and privates remained white, shielded from
the sun by our bikinis, specially selected each morning by him, worn by us
with, I must confess, a sense of pride, for they were hand-sewn in Italy,
and specially imported by him, he said, just for girls like us, his
guests.
Max turned and ordered us to follow him. We dared not disobey.
He could have broken either of us with a simple flexing of his massive
arms. I dreaded the thought of having him wield a whip over me. Yet I
followed, wiggling a little impatiently. Curiosity killed the cat, and I
guessed it was about to do me in too.
He led us into the living room. A small fire had been prepared
in the fireplace. "Take off your bikinis yourselves and toss them in," he
said, challenging us. Jill and I looked at each other. Finally Jill
touched the fabric of her bra, reached behind herself, sticking out her
boobies at him, and undid her top. That at least she could get away with,
I figured. She freed her breasts and took pride in seeing how Max's eyes
glowed at having her topless before him. What wicked thoughts did her
naked breasts inspire in him? I touched my own bra with quavering
fingers. Jill's nipples were attentive, poking themselves right at Max,
urging him to be bad. She tossed her bra into the fire and we all stood
there and watched the flames as they quickly consumed it. Then she
stepped behind me and, without my permission, undid my own top. Misery
loves company, I guess. I could not stop her. My knees were practically
knocking together from the awful suspense that filled the room. She
tossed my bra into the fire beside the ashes of hers and we all stared at
it as it burned, even Max, who seemed intrigued by the destruction of my
little brassiere.
Red Roadrunner Blues.
Birds by the thousands sitting on a wire
waiting for the news.
All this rain will break the winter heat,
they know this is the news.
Take a little walk in the moonlight, baby,
take a little walk with me.
I saw it up there big and red behind a cloud.
Why should we care?
He said everybody did it but him.
Rachel in her old red miniskirt,
whoring around the streets of uptown.
She's waving and really stopping traffic,
in the warm damp morning.
Still have not written that book for her,
this is just about as close as I have come.
To see it from her point of view,
there she is, that same old dream,
that same old girl I love.
Her hands had blue lines in them like ink,
as she rode on papa bear (with her pearls on).
Magic people were in the alley and on the stairs,
she shuddered as he felt up her hair.
The thing is this here, the void is clear, rhythm of words,
it's all like the sweetness of rain to me.
I can almost remember her eyes green like,
like some set of far away stars.
Take a little walk through the darkness,
and tell me how you got that skill.
You know as well as I do that some people hate,
while others wait.
This is a tough one for us, baby, looks like we won't
make it.
It's you or her and neither is mine.
All the perfect circular visions, I just don't care at all.
I'm just looking for some salty brownies.
- from Will Dockery's new zine, April Bullets, a 32 page chapbook. $1.00
from Will Dockery, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868, U.S.A.
AND IN THE END...
BYE, BYE, EXON
and Hatch
"The flow of information from fax machines to the Internet and through
other technologies already developed or still undreamed of will overwhelm
efforts to control it."
- Garrick Utley (Foreign Affairs, March/April 1997, pg. 9.)
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Blues is copyright 1997 by Will Dockery.
-END OF 216 EMISSION
Will Dockery
https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.ezines/AoFLkNlKMq0/gCz3KwYCMvQJ
On Sunday, March 16, 1997 at 4:00:00 AM UTC-4, Andrew Roller Presents:
<snipped for brevity>
> -END OF 216 EMISSION
"Ashes To Justice", still in-progress. Vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitar by Brian Mallard. From the Shadowville All-Stars Sunday sessions. And look forward to see/hearing you at Will Dockery at Hogbottom #10 2015!
http://www.reverbnation.com/play_now/song_11851687
Will Dockery
Will Dockery
https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.ezines/AoFLkNlKMq0/gCz3KwYCMvQJ
On Sunday, March 16, 1997 at 4:00:00 AM UTC-4, Andrew Roller Presents:
<snipped for brevity>
> Red Roadrunner Blues
>