Message-ID: <3226eli$9708220947@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 286 Pussy Playland (nnd) g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <33FCFF00.742F@mail.idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- THE GREAT F U C K W O M E N CONTEST ! by holy joe Recently a woman told me, “Your posts are the most offensive on the Net!” I don’t think they are, though. I mean, you know, they’re just my opinions. It’s not like I make them purposely offensive or anything. So I think we should teach this woman what ‘offensive’ is. These damn feminists are always saying, “Oh! You touched me, that’s offensive!” Or “You looked at me, that’s harassment.” Or, “You looked at my daughter, that’s a heinous crime!” Sure, ladies. Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot were committing garden-variety crimes. It’s looking at little girls that’s the real crime! I’m setting up a contest. My contest is going to be called, “The Most Offensive Post on the Net Contest.” Whoever posts the most offensive post will win a prize. (I’m not sure what it is yet. Maybe a year’s subscription to Hustler.) Anyway, please post the most offensive posts you can possibly think of on the Net. This lets you enter my contest and, when I’m done reading all the posts, it gives you the chance to win a prize. Remember, the posts have to be offensive to women, because we’re trying to teach these damn feminist women what offensive is. No offensive posts about fat guys, please. (I’m not a woman.) Also, no jokes about men masturbating. (Again, this isn’t a topic that offends women. They just assume fat guys who can’t get a date jack off.) And, please, no jokes about guys who go to Tower Books. Women are already plenty aware how many guys look at porno at Tower Books. Keep your jokes ABOUT women, and you’ll be most certain to offend them. You know, boobs, cunts, birth control, those sorts of jokes. Like, “Wow. If your tits were any smaller, you’d need a microscope to find them!” (A lame joke, I know, but I didn’t want to burn up any good ones.) Go to it, guys! Let’s show these women what ‘offensive’ really means! Hopefully, when this contest is over, women will no longer criticize our normal remarks and behavior. Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: JOE CAMEL Issue No. 286 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Pussy Playland Chapter One “No, use the bowl,” Tabitha told me. “It’s more fun for the men that way. Come, get down off the bed and squat over it.” She bent and placed it down on the rug. Catlike I unbent my legs and crawled across the bed, letting the men admire my tail. I hopped down and padded to the bowl and squatted myself down over it. I waited, plucking at my moist pubic hair, for my pee to come. Tabitha got some linen napkins from the night stand and unfolded one of them to wipe me when I was done. “Well?” she asked. “Okay, just a minute,” I said. And then my pee came squirting out and splashed into the bowl. “Ohhh, she looks so sweet,” Francis said, watching me. “Poop out your bon bons too!” she suggested. I could feel them bulging inside me and very much wanted to obey her. “No, not until she’s had her stuffing,” Tabitha said. She told me to squeeze my bottom cheeks together with my hands as I peed to prevent myself from pooping them out. I obeyed, reluctantly. Tabitha knelt down in front of me and wiped my pussy when I was done. Then I got back in bed. Beth and Francis and, finally, Tabitha, took their place on the pot, peeing leisurely, the men watching us, with Tabitha running to the toilet after each pee to empty the bowl. “It’s fun using the potty in front of the guys,” Beth admitted quietly to me. “Yes,” I answered. “How do those clamps feel?” she asked. Sympathetically she touched the tassels that were hung from my nipples and watched them sway. “I want them off,” I replied. “As soon as you’ve been stuffed Tabitha will allow it,” Beth said matter-of-factly. “Then let’s get it over with, please,” I begged. “Alright,” Beth said. She called out to Tabitha, who was just coming back from the bathroom. “Tabby! Can Kelly please have her stuffing now? Her tits are hurting!” “Of course they’re hurting! I put clamps on them,” Tabitha laughed. “Alright, we’ve had enough fun. Time for business.” She climbed up onto our bed. “Stuart, I hope you’ve enjoyed having that sperm in your balls because you’re going to pump it out now,” Tabitha told him. She reached between his legs and possessively cupped his sack. It was taut and full. “I’m more than ready for that,” Stuart admitted. “Kelly, please kneel at the head of the bed,” Tabitha told me. “And lift up the pillow and hand me the whip, please. I want to whip that scrumptious bottom of yours so it feels nice and glowing when Stuart does you.” “But--” I began. “It’s the opposite of the Binaca,” she replied. “It stings when its applied but feels nicer later. Warm and glowing. Fetch, doggie, or I’ll lay on twice as many as I usually do. You did moon Stuart, remember? You deserve a little smacking.” “I specialize in punishing girls’ bottoms,” Stuart offered. “Yes, I know, Stuart, but this is my bed and I want to whip her,” Tabitha told him as I gulpingly pulled out the whip and passed it to her. “Also, Stuart, it’s my whip,” Tabitha smiled. “You have a nice white hiney. I may do you later, dear. Have any of your loves ever whipped you?” “Well, I’m not into FEMALE domination,” Stuart answered. “I know, just male, hmmm? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, Stuart,” Tabitha answered, and before Stuart could stop her she gave a test flick of her whip across his ass. “Whoa! Don’t do that!” Stuart said. He clapped his hands over his butt. Alex laughed. Both their cocks stuck up like big worms wishing to be forever at attention. I knew we’d draft them soon, Tabitha and Beth and Francis and I. “Show me your bottom, dear,” Tabitha said to me. “Put your face on the pillow and kneel up properly and let me see that naughty tail of yours.” Reluctantly I assumed a position on all fours that let them all see my white bottom, but little of my face. Tabitha eased my legs apart and I felt myself blush as my fig came into view. There was absolutely nothing to prevent them from looking right at my fanny and my private! They gazed at me with casual abandon, as if at some strip show where girls were required to undress. The men wanted to masturbate themselves but, thanks to the Binaca and lotion, they were too much on edge to tolerate any more play. Carefully the girls dandled their balls and stroked the insides of their powerful thighs. “Don’t pop them,” Tabitha warned my soul-mates. “We won’t,” the girls answered, their voices high, like children in the park. “Mmmm, such a nice bottom,” Tabitha observed, turning her attention to me. She slipped the snakeskin lash between her fingers, toying with its length. It had cruel tassels on its tip that were frayed and knotted. “This is an old whip, a little worn,” Tabitha told me as I gulpingly looked back at it. “They used to whip racehorses with it. Now its been put out to pasture and is just used on female bottoms. Girls and women who need to be taught to behave. Are you sorry you showed off your bottom to everyone in the living room?” “Yes, very much so,” I answered. I felt very nervous. My thighs and legs seemed to be shaking right down to my squirming toes. We’d all kicked off our sandals before climbing into Tabitha’s bed but now, with the soles of my soft feet showing themselves to her, I wondered if they were safe. I knew the Arabs tortured feet sometimes. But I was most worried about my bottom. This was something I wouldn’t even let my mother do to me! “Ready?” Tabitha asked. “No,” I answered truthfully. “Try not to shout too loudly. I don’t want everyone cuming in here,” Tabitha told me. And then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she sent the whip flying into my fanny. “Yeeeowch!” I gritted. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to seem babyish. “Oooh, poor baby,” Tabitha said. She caressed a spot on my bottom where a bright pink streak had been placed. The handiwork of her whip. “Now, here’s another. Take your medicine,” she said. And she let her whip fly again, striking me hard. “YeeeeOWCH!” I yelped. I blinked back tears. She gave me two more in quick succession. I found myself screaming loudly and tears running down my face, threatening to spoil my makeup. I had waterproof makeup but I knew that sobbing and weeping and smearing my face into my pillow would certainly mess it up. I tried flexing my bottom cheeks to assuage the sting. I tried keeping my chin up, so my face wouldn’t smear lipstick all over it. But my hands clutched the pillow hard and I knew I’d be biting into it in a minute. WHACK! WHACK! SLACK! WHACK! Tabitha really gave it to me now. She let several strokes splatter the knots at the end of the whip over my tushy. I howled and ground my face in my pillow and forgot all about preserving my makeup. All the while I was conscious of my fig on display and my titties jangling with their clamps. “Oh, how nice,” I heard someone say at the door and knew, as I bounced on my knees under each new searing lash of the whip, that others had come to watch. My legs were apart, my cunny was on display, and my bottom was bare. What would my mother think? Would I run home to her tonight, rubbing my heinie? How would I sit tomorrow at school. The next strokes of the whip blasted all those thoughts out of my head as Tabitha made me feel the whip very deeply, impressing it into my tender cheeks like nothing I’d ever felt before. “Enough! Enough!” I cried. I flattened myself on my belly and my hands flew back to my tush. Madly I rubbed myself, feeling even worse as I touched my flayed bottom. But I had to protect it at all costs! Tabitha tried to remove my hands but I held them as tight as I could to my flaming cheeks. “Shall we tie her?” Francis asked. She scrambled to the head of the bed and began uncoiling one of the white ropes. “Poor girl, she has not yet learned the joy of it,” Tabitha sighed. “Ream her, Stuart. I’ve given her all she can take.” Stuart came to me then and hefted me right up, his hands round my waist, tight as iron clamps. He lifted my hips and positioned me back on my knees as I begged him through my tears to let me go. Francis, feeling inspired, lifted my chin and kissed my mouth. I did not want her kisses but she insisted, driving her tongue into me and whispering consoling words. This, of course, the girl who just moments before had wanted to see me tied and whipped some more. Stuart put his thing to my cunt. I was sinfully wet and, still gleaming with the lotion Tabitha had applied to relieve his cock from the Binaca, Stuart pushed himself into me as easily as one might. At 14 I was no easy fuck. But, thanks to the whipping and our playing, I was not emotionally resistant. He had only to fight the tightness of my womb itself. I wanted him, if only to get the bon bons out of my butt and the clamps off my nipples. I did all I could, despite my crying and my pain, to open myself and receive him. The bon bons made me even tighter than I should have been, but Tabitha had planned it that way, just to be nasty to me. Every inch of his manhood that he got up me seemed about to split me in two. I cried, I howled, until finally Stuart, getting in front of me to complete my stuffing, put his cock into my mouth. As I sucked Stuart like a baby feeds on a bottle, Tabitha insinuated herself beneath Stuart and put her mouth to my cunny. I felt a sense of shock as her wet, moving mouth, suddenly joined with my clit, even as Stuart drove himself into the folds of my cunt. All around my tiny spot Tabitha slurped and fed, nibbling into me as if I were her dinner and she were a starving child. I moaned, I bucked, I lost all sense of time and space. I even forgot all about the people who stood in the doorway admiring my performance. Well, it was the same folks I’d shown my bottom to earlier, so I had no cause of complaint, I guess. But I did feel a little embarrassed when it was all over. Crying from my whipping and begging Stuart to uncork himself from me even as I bounced my bottom backward to take more of him, I reached my climax and then came some more. I lost track of my orgasms. There was no use counting them, with Tabitha endlessly licking me. Stuart, who’d seemed on the verge of cuming as we played with the Binaca, found new strength and held himself back and reamed me again and again. I felt as if I’d been impaled on some giant iron bar that some inquisitorial Pope was using to spill confessions from me. I confessed, but the torture continued anyway. Somewhere on the far side of heaven I found myself panting with a limp male penis being withdrawn from me. Bleary eyed, my makeup long since wasted and ruined, I looked back to find Stuart had long since removed himself and been replaced by Alex, while Francis fed in my mouth, cleaning it of Alex’s spent sperm. “Hi,” I said when at last I’d been left to myself and recovered. “Hi,” Tabitha said. She was lying with her head on my belly and she kissed my belly button. Her bottom, bulbing way down at the tail of her back, seemed smeared with sperm and I guessed someone had taken her in her hole. “Please don’t whip me again,” I said. “Mmmmm, with a bottom like that you’re doomed to be whipped until you’re 40,” she said truthfully to me. “Then I’ll never have sex again,” I declared. Even as I spoke I wished she’d move her head so I could frig myself. “You’re so young and sweet,” she smiled. She moved her face down my belly and kissed my bush and I did not stop her. Chapter Two “Wake up, silly!” I heard a female voice urge. A slap hit my belly. I stirred. In my mind I was wondering at a teacher’s question at school. Dreamily I sucked on my fingertip and considered raising my hand. Somehow, in my dream, I knew if I raised my hand my t-shirt was so short that it would lift up and show my boobies. And then I found myself staring into Tabitha’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I thought I had the answer,” I said sleepily. Was she my teacher? “What answer?” she asked. I felt her fingers press into my pussy lips and knew, at last, where I was. She slapped my tummy again. “I know you’re young and blonde and cute,” Tabitha said to me seriously. “But you’re going to have to participate in our activities just like everyone else.” Tabitha said. “Okay,” I lisped. I sucked my finger innocently. She slapped my breasts. “OWwoooo!” I cried. “That hurt.” “No excuses,” Tabitha said. Her eyes drank in my 14-year-old figure. “You have the body for it. Lean and firm, tanned, with nice big breasts that I know must give your mother fits. Get up, honey. We’re going to have a contest!” She permitted me a little stretch and then I got up out of the bed. Seeing a mirror, I ran my hands through my hair. She took my hand and tugged at it. “Can’t I at least freshen up?” I asked her. “Why bother? You’re just going to get fucked again,” she smiled. My belly full of Alex’s sperm, I walked with her hand-in-hand out to the living room. It was dark, save for the fire in the fireplace where everyone was huddling around. I’d noticed a chill getting out of the bed. Now I realized someone had turned off the heat and opened a window to let the night air in. It was cold, blowing in off the sea. I thought I heard a boat in the distance sound its horn. It was a warning, to other ships, but I wondered if it might be meant by God to warn me too. After all, I knew nobody here, except my rotten, cheating (and hunky) boyfriend Alex. STOCK MARKET INFO ! “Even a dead cat bounces if you drop it from a high enough roof. Hence the charming name -- dead-cat bounce -- that financial folk give to short-lived rallies that always occur in even the most savage of bear markets.” - This valuable gem of vital information has been generously supplied to you by HJNS, the ‘holy joe news service,’ regarding the all-important Japanese stock market. (and courtesy of The Economist, August 16, 1997, pg. 57.) AND IN THE END... ANDREA DORKIN TRIUMPHS AT LAST ! “After the lady Ishtar had gone down into the land of no return, The bull did not mount the cow, the ass approached not the she-ass; To the maid in the street no man drew near; -(thank God for that! - h.j.) The man slept in his apartment, The maid slept by herself.” - Sumerian/Babylonian myth of Ishtar and Tammuz. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of my Internet account(s) by right-wing Christians. -formerly I was andrewroller@sprintmail.com, roller66@inreach.com, roller666@aol.com Read my complete works under these names by going to: http://www.excite.com (Click on ‘newsgroups’ and search under my various former screen names). (Also you can read irrelevant bullshit posted by right-wing Christians.) -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com - Free plug: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF 286 EMISSION - Ishtar: The Story of Civilization, by Will and Ariel Durant, Volume 1, pg. 239. -- +--------------' 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> /