Message-ID: <3363eli$9708250953@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 292 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: <3400ECA4.3E9A@mail.idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: JOE CAMEL Issue No. 292 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Pussy Playland Chapter Three Sherry spread out a soft towel on a work bench. The bench looked very clean and polished but she laid out the towel anyway, to make my bottom more comfy. Well, I’d been struck with the crop. I’m sure I needed all the comfort I could get! Sherry told me to sit down. When I did she knelt in front of me. She got big rubber workboots for my feet and put them on me, putting socks on me first so the tops of the boots wouldn’t chafe my calves. The socks stretched up to my knees. They were nice and soft, like the towel I was sitting on. I watched her, feeling odd with my big boots and gloves on, but only the tiniest of bikinis. My mom was embarrassed about my breasts when I wore a t-shirt. What would she say if she saw me in a bra the size of two postage stamps? When Sherry and I were both dressed in our work boots and gloves we went out back to the garden. I sighed in appreciation as I saw bush after bush blooming with roses. Little flowers of blue and pink and gold ran between the bushes and the lawn, moist with the sprinklers, was cut like a golf course green. Together Sherry and I padded across the carpet-like lawn and began our task of cutting roses for our party. Jeff carried a bag for us to put them in. It was clear plastic. I looked up at their neighbors’ house. I saw a light go on in the second floor window. Then it went off again, and I feared I knew why. “Keep working,” Jeff admonished me. “You’re not out here to admire the scenery.” “Who’s in the bedroom upstairs?” I asked. “Just some boy who’s been saved, for the moment at least, from going on the Internet and looking for porn,” he replied. “Nothing beats girls in the flesh,” I gulped. But I said it so quietly I hoped Jeff didn’t hear me. He seemed to have a thing against backtalk. Could the boy see my bottom, where I’d already been hit? I hoped not. Could his parents see me? I could just see the boy’s mother, staring down at me from their second floor window, and wondering if she should call the police. Well, I hadn’t been reported missing. My mom was out of town. But she would know that Jeff wasn’t my dad. He was too young. So that only left, well, a niece maybe? I don’t think even uncles can dress their nieces in nothing bikinis and whack their bottoms with riding crops. I glanced at Jeff but he seemed utterly unconcerned. “Bend over more,” Jeff told me. His voice was loud. Too loud. “The roses along the bottom of the bush need to be trimmed,” he said. “There’s a groundhog in the area and she’ll just come and eat them if we don’t cut them off.” “Jennifer! You’re supposed to be doing your homework!” I heard a woman’s voice shout. It sounded stressed. A bedroom window next to the first where the light had come on and gone off again came on. Then, mysteriously, that light went out too, and did not reilluminate. “Honey, I really do think those bikinis you bought for yourself and our niece in France are too small,” Jeff said. “I’m going to have to insist that you send them back.” “Alright dear,” Sherry called out to him. We picked roses from the lowest branches on the bushes, bending way over, showing our heinies to whomever it was that was looking. “I swear, I thought you were that damn groundhog,” Jeff said to me as I bent and showed off my fanny with the mark across it. “Well, if you girls flush it out from under one of those bushes, make sure you scream. I don’t want to kill it so I guess this crop will have to do. Hopefully one good whack will scare it into never coming back.” Sherry barely suppressed a giggle. I found myself amazed at how Jeff, even holding a riding crop and dressing us in wild bikinis, had somehow managed to announce to the neighbors that we weren’t up to anything bad. I glanced at his crotch. Well, that was still visible. Shouldn’t that make everyone know right off what was up? “I sure hate having to spend every night watching tapes on the Holy Bible,” Jeff said. He was having a very fun time, I realized. “I mean, we’re MARRIED, honey! Really, you church girls are no fun at all.” Oh well, that settled that. I hoped his neighbors were just a little gullible. Imagine, two nearly naked girls in a back yard, one obviously not an adult, the other barely an adult, dressed in bikinis that would make a stripper blush and superintended by a man with a riding crop and a hard on! I almost had to stop working, it was so funny. But laughing might blow the whole deal. I couldn’t help myself. Suddenly I found myself bolting upright and laughing so hard my ribs hurt. Sherry began laughing too. We were almost hysterical. “Stop telling jokes!” Jeff said very loudly. “You’re supposed to be working, not fooling around! We need those flowers for church tomorrow!” My apologies to Ralph Reed, but that really cut me and Sherry up. We laughed and laughed and laughed and had to make sure and turn around and face away from their neighbor’s house because our boobs popped right out of our tops and there was no way to get them back in or keep them there while we were laughing. Of course, turning around did nothing for keeping our asses modest. They jiggled freely as we laughed ourselves silly. Our bottoms were high and tight but they had a nice fleshiness to them, Sherry’s especially, that I know must have made Jeff impossibly hard. Already I was getting the feeling that he was an ass man. Well, he had no regrets looking at us! I just hoped the neighbor boy was a tit-boy, or whatever it is boys are who don’t get turned on by girl’s asses. ---------------------------------------------------------------- A R E A D I N G F U N D has been established for Stephen Knox, imprisoned in a federal penitentiary for ordering a swimsuit video featuring teenage girls. To help provide books to Knox (formerly a Phd. candidate at Penn State), send any amount to: Uncommon Desires Newsletter, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY 10185. Make checks payable to: Ophelia Editions. ---------------------------------------------------------------- When we finally had enough roses we came back inside. It was cool inside now. The house was open and the night air had filled it. It had been cool in the afternoon, sequestered down in the depths of the canyon, but as night settled in the coolness took on a noticeable bite to it. I didn’t mind. I knew my bottom would be too warm soon! Sherry and I shed our work things in the sunroom. It was full of dusk now. Instead of turning on a light she lit a simple candle and we undressed by it. We kept on just our little bikinis. She had me sit down on the bench again and she found heels for me in a closet and strapped them on. I stood up in them. The ankle straps were very thin and I wobbled a moment in them before I was able to gain my balance. “Can you walk in high heels?” Sherry asked. She reached out and took my hands to keep me from falling over. “Yes,” I answered. As a preteen I’d practised quite a lot, daring to dream of growing up, walking up and down the sidewalk and swinging my bottom so all the men looked, even the fathers, when they drove past in their cars with the little hearts on their license plates to keep all us children safe. But I was used to wearing sneakers. “Try walking in them. I don’t want you to break your ankle,” Sherry said to me. I took a step, then another. My bottom rolled atop my legs salaciously. The heels were high. “I can do it, see?” I told her. Except for standing up I was okay. It had just been awhile, that’s all. Playing on the beach every day makes you forget how to be elegant. “Alright,” Sherry answered. “Do they feel comfortable? I can almost guarantee you they’re the one item you won’t be taking off!” I shivered. “Yeah, as long as I can lie down most of the time they should be okay,” I quipped. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeff said. He was having fun watching us. “Oh Jeff, you’re just a big rude animal,” Sherry scolded him. “But I’ll put heels on for you sweetie, since that groundhog still hasn’t shown up and you might decide that I’m a groundhog instead!” “You’re looking more like one every minute,” Jeff replied wryly. “Thanks, honey,” Sherry said dryly. She sat down and I put on the heels she’d chosen for herself. Hers were even more challenging than mine. I wore four-inchers, but she was determined to party in fives. Carefully I buckled her straps so that they would be nice and tight and not make her trip. There were several buckles on hers and I had to do each one. By the time I got done, I realized her feet were practically prisoners! Sherry stood up. “They really do lift up your bottom, don’t they?” she asked me. To tease Jeff she turned her fanny toward him. Hers was nice and high but, mounted on her legs with her feet strapped into those heels, she looked absolutely heavenly! Jeff was forced to clear his throat, looking at her. We both showed him our asses then, and waggled them at him like whores just to tease him. He was forced to clear his throat again and, when he had, he said in almost a pleading voice, “Can we please party now?” “Yes,” I agreed. “I have to go pee but Jeff won’t let me.” “Well then we must certainly start the party,” Sherry said. She took my hand and led me up the hall to small study. Within were all sorts of law books, even code books describing all the penal codes and all the penalties. “Jeff was studying to be a lawyer, but now he’s decided to be a doctor instead,” Sherry told me confidentially. He strode in behind us and Sherry bent down and lifted back the end of a throw rug, exposing a trap door. Here, in the study, the floor was made of long planks of wood. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the trap door in the floor. This was going to be a real dungeon! Totally private, sound-proofed. Did I really want to go down there? Jeff bent down and pulled up the trap door. It swung open on hinges. It looked too heavy for either of us girls. “Ladies first,” Jeff said generously. He pointed at the dark hole in the floor. Sherry lit a candle. It was stuck in a silver boat-shaped holder designed to keep her fingers from getting burned. Carefully she walked with it over to the hole in the floor. She put a hand on Jeff’s big shoulders and he held her gently as she found her footing on the ladder in the hole and began her descent. I watched Sherry go down in the hole. She seemed to shiver a little. A cold wafting of air came up from the hole, even chillier than the air upstairs. When her head had disappeared within the hole I looked at Jeff. “I don’t want to go,” I said to him. His answer was to unzip himself. Fearfully I watched as he performed a silent strip show for me, presenting his cock to me first and then shucking his shorts off, lifting off his shirt to show me his bare chest, leaving only his sneakers. “You can’t wear sneakers in bed,” I said. He was blocking the door. What else could I say? “There’s no bed down there,” he answered. I gulped hard and took one last look at his riding crop, then his dick. He pointed at the hole in the floor and I knew there was no way I could get past him to escape from this room and this house. “Alright,” I said. Shakily I put myself against him and I began down the ladder. Sherry’s light could be seen down below, lighting the way for me. Slowly I descended. His cock was in my way and I kept bumping it as I tried to lower myself into the hole. For once it wasn’t turning me on. I was too scared of what was going to happen to me. But I somehow managed to get down inside the hole and find my way down the ladder. As I alighted upon the stone floor of the dungeon Jeff leapt down the ladder after me and closed the trap door over his head so no one would know we were here. ADVANCEMENT OPPORTUNITY ! by holy joe I was walking by a church the other day. There was a bulletin board next to the church, outside, and it had upcoming church events listed on it. In addition there was a poster. It read, “WANTED.” I wondered who they were after, so I read on: “WANTED, For Corrupting the Youth.” The poster displayed two photos. One was of Socrates. But the other one was of me! Actually, though, all they got right was my name, “holy joe.” (Though some vandal had put a “k” in the “joe” part, between the “o” and the “e”.) That got me to thinking. I do a low-cost zine. It’s a text only zine. How can I let you, my loyal readers, know what I look like? Then I was standing in my bathroom, taking a pee. I looked over at my World Wildlife Fund calendar, where I write all my important dates. (When all the new porn is released at Tower.) There it was, a photo of me! Right on the calendar. This time the photo was right, but the name was wrong. Next to MY photo they had the words, “Red-eyed tree frog.” Anyway, that’s me, right there next to the month of August in the World Wildlife Fund Calendar. (World Wildlife Fund 1997 Calendar, P.O. Box 96555, Washington, D.C. 20077.) I must admit, I didn’t always look the way I do now. But as a volunteer for the Christian Coalition Media Watch, I’m responsible for helping keep track of all the porn on the Net. We need exact figures for how much kiddie porn there is, how much bestiality, how much obscene porn, how much porn that might be obscene if we complain enough, how much “hard-core” porn there is (obscene porn that we can’t get labelled obscene, so we had to think up a bad-sounding name for it), and how much “soft core” porn there is (nudie pics that we want banned, and so thought up another bad-sounding name for). Oh, yeah. The Christian Coalition doesn’t know “I” volunteered for this “thankless” task. But they like me. I put in very long hours for them. In addition to all the photos I’ve had to rank, rate, categorize, and distribute (to our Senators, school boards, library boards, etc.), I’ve had to read tons and tons of sex stories. So that’s how I came to resemble, at least superficially, the “Red-eyed tree frog.” Which got me to thinking. Girls, since I do look sorta like a frog, there’s a possibility I might turn into a handsome prince if you kiss me. It’s a remote possibility, I suppose, but think how happy and wealthy you’d be if it’s true. And you’d be a princess, too. There is one point to keep in mind, however. I’ve learned that you can’t use your mouth to kiss. In the real, unedited version of the ‘frog who’s a prince’ story, the girl has to kiss him with the lips of her pussy. Yep. And she doesn’t kiss his head. No, no. She kisses his cock head. I realize this may seem a little risque. Bear with me, however. There’s one more fact I must relate about the unedited version of the ‘frog who’s a prince’ story. It’s sorta like ‘The Sword in the Stone.’ Lots and lots of boys came and pulled on that sword in the stone. But only when the RIGHT boy appeared, and pulled on it, did the sword pop out. It’s the same with me. Only when the RIGHT girl kisses my cock head with her pussy lips, will I turn into a handsome prince. So, line up girls. There’s only one way we can find out for sure if I’m a handsome prince in disguise, or not. EVERY girl needs to kiss my cock head with her pussy lips. I realize this may be slightly embarrassing for you. Think of it from my end, though. Think how exhausted I’ll be, having to make my dick available to each and every girl on the planet. My God! Every girl will have to try out, no matter how young. (If you’re gonna be a princess, you may as well be one as soon as you can!) And yes, girls will be cumming from all over the world, just to kiss my cock. There will have to be a number dispensing machine set up outside my dumpster. The city will probably need to build a special place for me, so I don’t disrupt traffic. (After all, when I turn into a prince, my city becomes a ROYAL city!) Al Gore will be calling, making arrangements for his daughters to cum. (Don’t worry, Chelsea, I’m not leaving you out, it’s just that ugly girls have to wait ‘til I’ve been kissed by all the prettiest girls.) (The same goes for fat chicks.) Well, anyway, I’m getting all limbered up here, girls. If you’re pretty, hurry so you don’t have to wait in line, okay? This isn’t going to be like a concert, where you just have to wait overnight before buying your tickets. With all the girls who will be cumming, you don’t want to be stuck way back in the line. You could end up waiting for weeks! Plus, there may actually be more than one special girl on the planet. Like, what if there were actually two special girls? The one who kissed my cock first would win. The other one would never even get a chance! So hurry! Don’t be left out! You could be attired in royal splendor this evening, wearing a glittering crown, with endless streams of courtesans. You’d be in People, you’d be in the National Enquirer, you might even be on the cover of T.V. Guide! And I’ll bet if you wanted Jenny McCarthy’s job at MTV, they’d kick her out and put you in her place! (Heck! I’ll issue a Royal Decree: “Put my little princess on ‘Singled Out!’”) Uh, oh. I think I hear some girls approaching my dumpster right now. (Either that, or somebody’s emptying his trash.) Gotta go, girls! Don’t be late, okay? AND IN THE END... THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM ! “Then all those virgins arose... the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him... Afterward came also the other virgins... But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.” - Jesus Christ (Matthew 25: 7, 10-12) -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of my Internet account(s) by right-wing Christians. -Currently I am: roller39@mail.idt.net -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/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - 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 292 EMISSION -- +--------------' 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> /