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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 302 Pussy Playland (nnd) g2
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FUCK YOU
That’s right. Your eyes are not deceiving you. At last there
is a sport utility vehicle that will allow you to truly express your
love for your fellow man. Sure, the guy in front of you may be a
tax-paying, God-fearing American, but that’s no reason not to run him
over.
Here at holy joe motors we understand the American way of
life. That’s why we’re now selling our new “Fuck You” vehicle. It’s a
747, with the wings cut off. Recently we asked our president, holy joe,
how he came up with such a stellar idea.
hj: Thanks, announcer dude. Well, I was sitting in the first
class cabin of a jumbo jet. It had just landed at Kennedy and I was
dreading that New York traffic. Then I thought, “Why get off?” I mean,
if I had them cut the wings off this baby, we could just drive it down
the highway. So I bought the plane and we did just that. I even got to
move up from first class to the pilot’s seat!
a (announcer dude): Boy, talk about excellence in initiative.
I’ll bet those New Yorkers learned a thing or two that day, from
Cupertino!
hj: You bet they did. We computer types don’t believe in
farting around. If something needs to be done, by God, we do it! Next
we’ll be getting Janet Reno to file an Anti-Trust suit against General
Motors.
a (announcer dude): Thanks, joe. And our readers will enjoy
knowing that all our new “Fuck You” sport utility vehicles come with a
free licence plate, for the front of your ‘car’. Heh. It reads, “Move
or Die.” And don’t worry. We printed the lettering backwards so the
people in front of your vehicle can read it in their rear license
plate. We think of everything.
We’ve even invented a brand new, ‘your lane only’ sport utility
vehicle. It’s for people who absolutely, positively need a lane of
their own. Sound impossible? Not for holy joe motors! It’s a van,
carpeted inside, with a moon roof. It glows in the dark. It has
special lettering plastered all over it. It reads, “Attention ! child
molester on board” Don’t worry, we’ve added bullet proof glass so you
can glide down the highway in ease and comfort, unharried by any passing
armed motorists. Just turn up the optional quadraphonic stereo system
to drown out the sound of gunfire.
For those truly desperate drivers, we’ve even gone a step
further. We’ve acquired several authentic Chernobyl Rescue Vehicles.
Each one is guaranteed to be 100 percent radioactive. You’ll have to
wear special protective gear while you drive it, but imagine the joy at
having cars careen out of your way as you speed down the highway with
your sirens blaring. (Note: this vehicle is only legal in Montana.)
Yes, here at holy joe motors, we have a vehicle for every
driver. Stop by and see us today!
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 302
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Pussy Playland
Chapter Four
“Dear, you must first learn to suck,” Sherry giggled. She and
Jeff were just making up games now, with me as their victim. She walked
casually to a shelf. There was no hurry. She picked up a huge dildo.
She walked back over to me but I was determined not to take it. I
feared she would make me choke on it.
Sherry pushed the dildo against my belly button. “I wonder if
I should shove this up your ass first, to make it nice and tasty,” she
asked me. “Or will you be a good girl and practise your sucking on it
just as it is?” A shiver ran down me. Sherry trailed the dildo up my
front, tapping my ribs, snaking it up between my breasts. As the tip
reached my lips and she pried my lips apart with it I felt a sudden
fullness in my belly.
“Suck, honey, or pay the consequences,” Sherry said. She
introduced the huge cock into my mouth and took hold of my neck in the
process. I was at her mercy. I tried my best to accept the dildo, to
not gag on it, to let her ease it in and then out of my mouth, slowly,
training me. “You must suck very nicely if you’re ever to suck my
husband,” Sherry told me. Suddenly, with my hips arched out as the cock
was pushed into my mouth, I peed!
I could say nothing. The penis filled my mouth and kept me
from doing anything but breathe through my nose. But, mortified, unable
to cry or gasp with remorse, I felt my pee sprinkle down onto the hard
stone floor.
Sherry laughed, stepped back a little to keep from getting her
ankles splashed. All the while she kept giving me dick in my mouth,
making me accept the large penis even though I wanted it not at all.
What girl would want to have a big rubber phallus jammed in her mouth?
But I had no choice. They were husband and wife and I was just their
guest, picked for the weekend to entertain themselves with.
Jeff struck me hard on my tummy with his switch even as I was
still peeing. I bucked. My stream flung itself off course, then
caught, nothing coming, then started again. A long burning line
impressed itself along my belly, running across it. Jeff arched his
wrist in again and struck me anew. Part of the whip’s length stung my
thighs. They were pulled apart and yanked back, but still jutted
forward enough to catch part of the whip’s fury. Again and again Jeff
hit my tummy, sometimes hard, sometimes less hard, each stroke
deliberately placed as if to drive out of me any burgeoning eggs. I was
to leave without being enceinte. Next weekend they would play with some
one else. I was just a toy. Toys must not conceive.
Sherry drove the huge rubber penis in and out of my mouth.
Despite its hugeness it was infertile. Jeff held his cock back from me
and beat my tummy with his switch. They were husband and wife. It was
for them to couple and conceive, for Sherry to give birth. I was too
young. I must return to junior high and my school uniforms and
textbooks. I must not be a welfare mom at 14. But I wanted Jeff, Jeff,
Jeff. And he said he wanted me. Was he just torturing me to please
Sherry? Did he plan to come to me later, and fuck me privately? Did he
plan to sell Sherry at midnight to the mexicans to take down to Mexico
and make into a slave? My head spun and I felt each stinging, aching
blow of Jeff’s switch as he laid it over my womb. In my mouth I held a
replica of his cock, but no matter how hard I sucked it, it gave
nothing.
Wickedly, Sherry began tweaking my nipples. Oh, must those be
tortured too? They stuck out so fine and delicate and desperate. Was
she jealous of them? Hers were no less pretty, or excited. But she
tormented my nipples with her sharp fingertips, Jeff not stopping her.
I bucked against the rape rack. I wanted down! But always the switch
kept coming, and now Sherry’s wickedly teasing fingertips, and the huge
cock filling my mouth and making me suck it.
“Yes, darling, you are a good little girl after all. And
you’ll go home when the weekend’s over, won’t you?” Sherry asked me. I
had to nod ‘yes.’ I had no choice. Her fingers at my nipples made sure
I didn’t disagree. “Ah, we should have blindfolded her on the way up
here,” Sherry said to Jeff. “Then she would truly just be a toy.” She
kissed my cheek. “Take the whip away, dear, she has been good. You are
a good girl, Kelly,” Sherry told me.
Still making me suck on the big fake cock, Sherry ran her busy
fingertips down to my clit. With suave, feminine fingertips, but
demanding fingertips, stroked and pricked around and within my cunny.
She made me buck even harder against the rack. I was about to cum when
she suddenly drew her hand away.
“Naughty girl! Do you think I want your spendings all over my
hand?” Sherry asked me. She drew the fake prick from my lips and
slapped my face. Not hard, just playfully, but leaving me panting on
the rack with my belly and bottom burning and my mouth and cunny lips
longing.
“Jeff, let’s play,” Sherry said to her husband. She drew him
close, right in front of me. I could only look on helplessly as they
kissed. Her hand stole to his and she drew the switch from his gasp. I
stared with frightened eyes. Would she use it on me?
Their kiss ended. Sherry stepped back, inverted the switch so
she held the dangerous end in her palm, and prodded Jeff’s balls with
the handle. “You, sir, are very full,” she told him. He sighed. His
thing stuck out very big and quavering with his lust.
“Suck it,” he told her.
“Only if you give me a good fucking afterward and ignore that
little minx on the rack,” Sherry said to him.
“Alright,” Jeff breathed.
“Noooooo!” I cried. But it was too late. Sherry dropped at
once to her knees and took possession of him. Like a madwoman, fearful
of losing his sperm to my womb, she yanked on his cock and fisted him
and blew him as hard as she could with her lips. Jeff groaned. He
wanted to hold on. He’d promised his wife a sperming. Yet now, with
her mouth at his cock, Sherry seemed bent on making him explode.
A combat ensued. It could be called nothing else. Sherry
abused Jeff’s cock with her mouth and lips and hands as he struggled to
retain his seed. Sherry’s hips twisted back and forth as she crouched
before him. She obviously needed pleasure very badly but she did not
try to gratify her cunny with her hands. She kept all her attention on
Jeff’s cock and, seemingly, on making him spill right there, on the
floor or in her mouth, anything to keep him away from me, to deplete him
so that he would not wind up impregnating me. For, of us all, Jeff was
by far the strongest. He was male. We were just females. He could
order us about the dungeon at his whim. So Sherry, given this chance,
wanted to milk him. She did not want to risk losing him to me again.
I hung on the rack. I bucked my hips. I felt empty. Even my
mouth felt empty and remorseful. I wanted. I needed. I was spread
wide apart in a roomful of dildos and with a well-hung man, still
holding his seed, and yet I was without. I had only my open, empty
holes. And my little nipples, teasing me by sticking up like little
fake cocks. They looked like twin antennae, intent on receiving
broadcasts that did not come.
Sherry sat back suddenly on her heels. She looked dolefully up
at her husband. She took his huge, fat sausage-like prick in one hand,
doing her best to wrap her fingers around it. With her other hand she
steadied herself as she lifted her eyes up to his. “Honey!” she
whined. “I want you to cum now. Please don’t hold back.” She smiled.
She admired his strength. He gasped, looking down at her, watching as
she fingered his hard-on. With her free hand Sherry reached between
Jeff’s legs and palmed his balls. His sac was huge. She pushed up on
it with her small open hand. Then she closed her hand as best she could
over it.
“Darling, I’m going to milk you now,” Sherry said to her
husband. “I want to see your sperm shoot out and I want you to give me
everything you have. Just shoot it in my face. Don’t hold back. I
want you totally empty, so I don’t have to worry about you playing with
Kelly anymore. And I want her to be jealous, too. I want her to see
what a big husband I’ve got and how he just jets and jets when he cums.
And I want her to watch and know she can never, ever have even one drop
of you up inside her cunny.” She kissed the head of his cock. And
then, quite deliberately, she bit his head, not too hard, but just
enough to let him know she could be mean if she wanted to.
Jeff stood enthralled. Despite a quick “ouch” at being bitten,
he seemed to like seeing his wife torment his cock, even if it did mean
enduring an extraordinary pressure to release himself. And, it seemed,
as I watched now, she and he must have played this game before. She
tormenting him, begging him to cum, he holding out valiantly, impressing
her with his reserve and his strength.
“Doesn’t ANYTHING make you cum?” Sherry giggled. She tried
biting Jeff again. But, despite a tremble that seized his buttocks and
made them tense, he held on.
Sherry’s big boobs hung down all white and lovely, eager at
their tips for pleasure. Her tummy moved softly with her breathing. It
was flat and begged to be swollen with his seed, I thought, looking at
hers and feeling my own emptiness and my own need. Frankly now she let
one of her hands drop down to her cunny and she played with her
cuntlips. “Cum, Jeff, I’m waiting and ready for you,” Sherry teased.
She watched as her big man struggled with his cock in her hand, being
blown by her lips, yet holding out, somehow. I too felt mesmerized,
watching, but always my need throbbed within me and I had to gasp at
times with the painfulness of it. Needing pleasure, and not getting it,
is painful, in the end. A kind of overwhelming sexual starvation washes
over your erotic parts, and your head spins with lust. I couldn’t help
bucking again and again on my rape rack. Now I wished to be raped.
Please, somebody cum and stick your thing into me, anyone, and ram me
full of yourself. I didn’t care about anything else anymore. I peed
again on the floor, seeking relief, but found none. Sherry turned her
head, watched me a moment, laughed.
“Pee, then, honey, if you can’t cum,” Sherry urged her
husband. “Just pee right on me.”
“I can cum,” Jeff assured her. “You’ll get it right in the
face any moment I want to give it to you.”
“Then give it to me!” Sherry begged. Like a wanton whore she
mouthed his big cock and tried to stuff as much of him into her mouth as
she could. Jeff just watched, grinning, groaning, grinning again.
Their duel continued.
I was left on the rack, tears rolling down my cheeks, my ass
hanging down all naked and red and boldly exposed. Periodically I’d
arch my hips out, offering my cunt. It was open, like a flower, its
petal-like lips hungry for pollen. I gasped and cried out for love but
nobody heard. Down here, beneath the earth, the dungeon had been carved
to keep the moans of tormented lovers from ever reaching the ears of the
‘moral’ people up above. I wondered about Sherry and Jeff’s neighbors.
Did they even imagine that we were in a special room down beneath Sherry
and Jeff’s house, torturing each other with our lust? I could almost
hear the wife nagging her husband, he lecturing her in response, while
upstairs their son played video games and their daughter listened to
discs. She was hardly younger than me, dreaming of hunks while she
flipped through Tiger Beat or Seventeen. Yet I, down here, I was almost
beside myself with Jeff. He had bound me to this rack, made for rape,
he had handled me, exposed me, made me frantic, and now he displayed
himself, and his own desperation to me, quite openly, yet in such a way
that neither of us found relief. I yearned to switch places with her.
Let her show her breasts down here and let me retreat to the slumbering
innocent solitude of her room. But it was too late, too late, my pussy
told me. I must have what I came for, and it must cum inside me.
Sherry stood up. In a very business like fashion she clasped
her husband around the head of his cock, right behind the flange, so
that he could not escape her. She led him over to a waist-high pillory
and I saw, to my gasping surprise, that it was made not to clamp the
neck or the wrists, or even the ankles, but the penis.
Sherry lifted the upper half of the pillory up, to give Jeff
room to enter. She smiled as she lifted it. We girls didn’t come
equipped with anything to hold us to that particular pillory. It must
have been the only safe item for us in the entire dungeon. It could not
trap or keep us, but for men it was deadly.
“I wonder what these grooves are for?” Sherry smiled. She ran
a fingertip down the far side of the pillory. “A blade, don’t you
think, dear? Too bad it’s been removed. That would keep any husband
well-behaved.” With a grunt Sherry pushed her husband in the small of
his back. At the same time, she threaded his cock with her fingers
through the opening in the pillory. Jeff felt his balls bump up against
the side of the pillory closest to him. “Yes, dear,” Sherry pointed
out. “The blade goes on the far side of the wood, so that when it
slices down, removing the dick, the man’s balls are preserved.” She
tickled the underside of his hairy eggs, and I realized for myself why
the blade (or, rather, its grooves) ran down the opposite side of the
wood where Jeff stood. Guillotine-like, it could slice down, shortening
a man quite considerably. But if his balls were to be retained they
would hang safely on the side of the wood next to his body. Such
strange games some past couple must have played, when a guillotine blade
had actually been part of the pillory. Now only the hole remained.
With a firm, secure clap of wood upon wood, Sherry closed the
upper half of the pillory down on its lower half. Jeff winced. The two
halves would have been too snug for his cockhead to fit through, if kept
closed. So they’d been opened, he’d been put through, and they’d been
closed again. Now he was tightly held. The two halves of wood gripped
at the base of his cock like the encircling mouth of a baby. I could
see that his shaft bulged a little where it extruded from the far side
of the pillory. Separated from him, Jeff’s precious organ stuck out
like a stiff snake. He looked down at it.
Sherry tickled the underside of Jeff’s cock. “Is it too tight,
honey?” she asked. Her voice had a tone of mock sympathy in it. Yet I
knew she did not really want to hurt her husband. At least, I hoped she
didn’t. How awful it must have been for Jeff! He had a huge banana of
a cock, but now almost all of it was on the far side of the pillory,
choked at the base by the clamping wood, the rest left to quiver
untended, a hot dog in need of a bun.
AND IN THE END...
MOLESTED !
“The country is so short on big things -- heroes, villains,
conflicts -- that we’ve had to inflate little things and pretend they’re
big.”
- Time, October 27, 1997, pg. 132.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of
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roller666@aol.com Read my complete works under these names by
going to: http://www.excite.com (Click on ‘newsgroups’ and search
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copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 302 EMISSION
- “Surely over the horizon some large commotions loom, and when they
arrive, we’ll marvel at our current capacity to make something out of
nothing.” (Ibid.)
--
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