Message-ID: <5451eli$9711062222@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 307 Nudie Nursery (nnd) g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller39@IDT.NET 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: <34621DC9.1D56@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- “It’s a full scale assault!” Johnnie screamed. “Goddammit pull up, Delta! We’re gonna get major damage!” Death From Above... GOLD DIGGERS Now Available from: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ or under roller39@idt.net at http://www.dejanews.com/ (The latest version is “Nov 1 Gold Diggers (NND)”) Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 307 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Nudie Nursery Chapter One “Very good, Kelly,” Kate said to me. “Now we’ll see if Mr. Ray here can learn to be a good boy.” She told me to get a penis whip. I didn’t know what that was but she explained that it was a small whip, made just for whipping a man’s dick into shape. “They come in various brands of severity,” Kate told me. “Some are just a soft strip of leather, while others are wrapped cords, while still others are almost inflexible, hardened in a vat of pure salt. Get a medium one for him. We don’t want to make him feel too awful. He just needs a little correction.” I saluted her. We were having a blast. We were both totally nude, our bikinis left scattered on the floor. Our hair was lovely and our feet were encased in pretty shoes and we wore sexy earrings. Ray was a hunk beyond a girl’s wildest dreams, and he was letting us do whatever we wanted with him. All our most childish fantasies we were getting to play out on him. I saluted Kate, went to the wall where the implements were, and came back with a small, slim whip. “Go ahead, do him,” Kate told me. I lashed him with a modest stroke, afraid I might hurt him if I hit too hard. Then, judging his response (holding back his feelings as usual), I hit him harder. I wanted to see him shout and really respond to me! Soon I had him flinching and begging at every stroke. “Yes, just your penis, Ray, that’s all we care about now,” Kate said to him. “If the Law concentrated more on men’s penises, they’d commit less crimes, don’t you think?” “I guess so,” Ray groaned. She slapped his bottom and told me to stop. “Go get your Kool-Aid glass,” she said to me. “It’s time for our big baby here to wet.” “Thanks,” Ray said. “Don’t feel too special, honey,” Kate said. “I just like the idea of seeing stuff shoot out of your dick!” I brought my empty glass and we both watched, mesmerized, as Kate held the glass for Ray and he squirted his pee into it. When he was done she had me get a kleenex and she squirted some Redi-Whip on his pee hole and then wiped it off with the kleenex. “There, that should keep you nice and fresh,” Kate said to Ray. “Lickably clean!” She put her mouth to him and sucked him some more while I found a drain in a corner and emptied Ray’s pee down it. Then I sat my glass by the door. I didn’t intend to drink out of it again! I glanced at the door. The key Kate had locked it with hung from a brass ring, which she’d placed over a nail high up on the wall. A child would never be able to reach it. I might just reach it, if I stood up on my tip-toes. I could escape now, if I wished. Kate was busy with Ray and he was, at the moment at least, pinned by his cock between two boards. I should be going home soon. My mom might miss me. Then again, she’d learnt not to ask when I slept over at a ‘friend’s’ house. Always I pretended it was a girlfriend, and she accepted that. But sometimes it was the house of a guy I’d met on the beach, in my little bikini. Lots of times I just liked teasing. But sometimes I’d let a guy take me home and, sometimes, I’d even let him bed me. Often I just sucked him, and that made him happy, especially if he was older than me and afraid of getting in trouble. But in the dungeon there was a distinct possibility that we would all go much farther. I knew that from staying with Sherry and Jeff. The choice wouldn’t be between sucking and fucking. I felt a tremor of fear seize me as I realized I might lose complete control of myself here, with Kate and Ray, two strangers I’d just met on the beach. I could escape now, if I wished. I glanced again at Ray. He was tall, broad. I watched as his buttocks tensed, then released, then tensed again as Sherry blew him. His balls, cruelly held inside a pouch I’d put on him, hung between his hairy legs. He wouldn’t worry about fucking a girl who was under-age. Or doing lots of other things to her. He wouldn’t settle for just a quick blow job. And Kate, what was she really like? After all, there was little doubt her uncle had been a major pervert. Imagine, a nursery school that doubled as a dungeon! I had little doubt, looking at the boxes of crayons interspersed with dildoes and packs of condoms, that the children had done some of their lessons down here. Above the wall where the whips hung was a strip of paper showing the alphabet. Hung over the door was a row of paper gingerbread men, cut from construction paper. And yet Kate had not even reported all this to the police! Instead she’d decided to play down here. The children were due back on Monday! Should I run out now, and call somebody? Well, I couldn’t do that; I didn’t want the cops to come and find poor Ray with his dick stuck between two boards. Yet, what would I have done, if I found myself suddenly inheriting a beach house with a dungeon in it? Would I go squealing to the police, and turn the whole house into a notorious crime scene on the nightly news, or would I grab the nearest lifeguard and do just what Kate was doing? “It must be quite a job for you, keeping control of all those people every day,” Kate murmured to Ray. He flung his head back and I watched the muscles of his back ripple as he fought down the need to ejaculate. He was such a stud! Imagine surviving all he had, and still not cuming. What a beautiful creature. I felt a sudden need to keep him forever. I think Kate was thinking the same thing, for she glanced at me over his cock as I circled back toward them. She wanted him cuffed. I could tell. Her eyes met mine and I felt the same need she did to make this man completely subservient to our feminine wiles and our pussies. I ran to the wall. My conscience screamed at me that I might myself be tested just as Ray was being tested, that it might go too far, that I might be hurt, but I grabbed the nearest pair of steel handcuffs from the wall and darted over to my new friends. Ray’s forearm was huge. I took hold of it with my little fingers, a spider latching onto a lion. I snapped on one of the cuffs. He glanced down at me. He lifted his arm slightly, as if he might smack me across the face for trying to make him my prisoner. But then, his eyes glazed, Kate really giving him the works with her mouth and tongue to make him have to fight every second to hold his seed, he looked away. His butt tensed, he flung his head back, and held. Kate lifted her mouth to check. A drooling line of her spit mixed with his pre-cum hung between her mouth and his cockhead. She watched him a moment. No sperm. He had survived yet another of her attacks. Yet, hanging between his legs, was the biggest load of sperm you could possibly imagine, held up tight against his body in the scrotum sac I’d tied on him. What a man! Kate blew lightly upon his peehole to compliment him for his valor. He could have cum so easily, letting himself go, being selfish, but he kept himself whole and let us keep playing. Now as I snuck around behind him I began to wonder if he was being selfish by holding his sperm back. After all, Kate was working so hard. Yet she got nothing but pre-cum for her efforts. “Ray, you can actually cum if you want to, can’t you?” I heard her ask him in a teasing voice. I grabbed his other wrist and drew it behind his tensed buttocks. They were bare, with bright lines across them where I’d whipped him. “I can cum like a fountain,” Ray replied. He seemed not to sense that I was about to make him our prisoner. “When I do cum, it will be in your hair and all over your face, unless you can swallow real fast. Before I got this lifeguard job I worked at a kiddie pool. The girls used to come up to my lifeguard stand and blow me, but I had to be careful, because they were only 9 or 10. So sometimes I couldn’t cum at all, even though they loved blowing me. So I learned to hold it back real good.” CLICK! I managed to squeeze his arms close together enough to lock them in to the handcuffs. What a fitting moment to capture him! Here he was a pedophile, and we hadn’t even known it! “Ray, you’re a pervert!” Kate shouted. She was as shocked as I was. “No I’m not,” he answered with equanimity. “There’s no difference between you and a 10-year-old except that you’re breasts are grown and hers are just starting. Anyway, didn’t you like lifeguards when you were 10?” “Well, I did,” she said, and blushed a little. “And I won’t even tell you what I did to tease them. But I didn’t BLOW them!” “Girls grow up faster nowadays,” Ray replied. “I guess so, with a predator like you ‘protecting’ the girls at a kiddie pool!” Kate said. “It’s a job... somebody’s got to do it,” Ray grinned. Sherry stood up. She put a hand under her chin. She lifted her other hand speculatively, a finger upraised, considering. I could just see her as a policewoman, wondering what to do with a pervert she’d nabbed. “Well, Raymond, we are going to have to consider what to do with you,” she said. “Here you’ve confessed to the most evil things, but fortunately we’ve got your penis stuck in a pillory, your balls neatly tied up, and your hands, ah yes, handcuffed.” “Hey, how did that happen?” Ray asked. He struggled to get his wrists out from behind his back but found they were permanently locked over his lovely bare buttocks. “I don’t think any child molester has ever been better positioned to pay for his crimes, do you, Kerry?” Kate asked me. “Nope,” I replied. We both broke into giggles. We really couldn’t care less about a bunch of 10-year-olds at a kiddie pool. They’d be competing with us soon enough in daring bikinis. I regretted that they’d gotten an early start, but who wouldn’t want to blow Ray? I gazed at his powerful body as he stood with his cock wedged in the stocks. What a glorious man! All he had to do to get free of the stocks was simply ejaculate. He’d feel great, and he could walk away. But he’d stayed, let us torture him, and finally even let himself be suckered into getting handcuffed. Now we did have him between a rock and and hard place. Even if he shot his load, he still couldn’t get the cuffs off. And they were real police handcuffs too, with the exception that they were lined with fur inside to provide our lover a little comfort. “He needs to feel a little humiliation at least for being a child molester,” Kate told me. “Let’s hang our bikinis over his dick so he’s made to feel like a human clothesline!” We giggled again. We trotted over to where we’d tossed our bikinis onto the floor and picked them up. “Yes, Ray, you’re going to be made into a line of washing,” Kate said as we hung our stringy little bras and panties over his dick. He watched with mesmerized eyes. I imagine just the feel of the soft drawstrings and bra cups against his penis made him tremble with lust. I remembered how boys sometimes snuck into my mom’s yard to catch a glimpse of my own bikinis hanging out back on our clothesline. Kate flicked her bra and watched it as it trembled atop Ray’s penis. The tiny cups brushed his shaft. I batted my panties. Their pencil-thin drawstrings shivered. I feared they might slide down the shaft of his cock and find a way to drop off. “We need clothespins,” I suggested. “Yes, to keep our bikinis in place,” Kate smiled. We had wicked eyes. We looked up at Ray. He gritted his teeth and gazed at our bikinis hanging from his huge cock. “You need to be punished anyway, Ray, for molesting little girls,” Kate added. Primly she rose up and walked to the wall. She took down several pairs of wooden clothespins. She walked back, letting her bare hips roll, glorying in how Ray stared at her lovely pubis. Above her ribs her bosoms jostled and swung, totally free, in sharp contrast to Ray’s poor balls and cock. She knelt down in front of him once more and judiciously began applying the clothespins. Ray gritted his teeth and said nothing. I thought he might howl out, or protest, but he took his punishment like a man. Kate pinned our bikinis and bras to his erection. She smiled up at him when he was done. “I’m glad you’ve been bad, Ray,” she admitted. “It’s so fun punishing you!” “Loosen the ball bag,” Ray said. “What? Is the nutcracker suit too tight?” Kate laughed. Ray nodded. “Well, we don’t believe in cruel and unusual punishment here in the United States, just punishment,” Kate admitted. Carefully she reached between his legs and untied the leather sac that contained Ray’s balls. She opened it a little, then retied it. She touched the sac underneath and lifted it slightly to heft his balls and feel their movement. “There, darling, is that better?” she asked. “A little bit,” Ray said. “Well, a little bit is all I had in mind,” Kate replied. She kissed his penis and then stood up. I stood up with her. We glanced at each other. We were both naked, and just glancing at our tits we could each see that the other was very excited. The dungeon seemed full of possibilities. Outside it was hot, but in here it was pleasantly cool. Out on the beach girls were vying for guys, but in here we had a real he-man to keep us busy, who NEEDED to have his genitals punished for making little girls blow him. Well, we’d do our job to society and satisfy ourselves in the bargain. “We must take proper care of our prisoner,” Kate said to me. I nodded. I had no idea what she had planned, but it sounded fun. She took my hand and led me over to a faucet near the floor. Beside it was a wooden pail, and next to the pail was a bottle of Mr. Bubble. She picked up the bottle, and squirted some of its soap into the pail. Then she turned on the tap and put the bucket under it. “There’s no sponge and no washcloths,” Kate admitted to me. I smiled. We’d use our hands. “The water’s very cold, Ray,” she shouted over her shoulder at him. He watched us as we knelt at the faucet. “I don’t need a bath,” Ray replied. “Dear, prisoners don’t get to choose when they have a bath,” Kate said. COMIC REVIEW by holy joe The Man with the Cape, No. 3, 50 cents. Minicomic, 24 pages. Brian Kirk, Moot Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA 01108. e-mail: mootcomics@aol.com web: http://www.the-spa.com/bear/moothome Review: 24 pages for 50 cents! I must say, you can’t do any better than that! Especially since Brian Kirk is one of the greatest artists and writers in the comics small press. The Man with the Cape No. 3 continues a storyline begun in earlier issues. At this issue’s start, The Man with the Cape is trapped in cement. At the same time, he’s in trouble for (accidentally) killing the mayor of Moot City. At the same time, the Sculptress, an evil villain, is using the city’s statues to execute bank heists. And, at the same time, when The Man with the Cape forgets to flush his toilet... I wouldn’t recommend trying to leap into The Man with the Cape’s storyline cold. If you want to check out issue no. 3, why not treat yourself and order issues no. 1 and 2 also? Then you’ll have more fun understanding what’s going on. (Hopefully the earlier issues are still available!) Remember that MOOT Comics are small press comics. You can go to your local comic book store and buy back issues of Spiderman, Thor, etc. But MOOT comics are xeroxed, cut, folded, and stapled by hand. That means that when the artist gets tired of making back issues, they are no longer available. Some artists (like me) even lose the masters for their back issues. So, in my case, if you wrote to me for back issues of my comics, I’d tell you, “Sorry, they’re sold out. I lost the masters.” Get in on all the MOOT fun while you still can. The Man with the Cape is quite an endearing character. So’s the Sculptress. My favorite, of course, is the Sewer Sorcerer, who rises up from the commode and uses manhole covers as transportation and weaponry. Issue no. 3 of the Man with the Cape also contains an extra story. It’s called “The Mussel”. Its about a superhero who is “King of the Gastropods... and Master of the Sea.” It’s written in the style of a ‘one-shot’ minicomic. There’s no need to pine away for the days when comics were cheap, and contained more than one story. Those days are still here, in the form of MOOT comics! AND IN THE END... FEMINISM MARCHES ON ! “What fans really want are new form-fitting outfits, and Core has obliged with a wet suit, a flight jacket and, for those who finish the game, a nightie.” - Newsweek, November 10, 1997, pg. 86 (on Lara’s outfits in Tomb Raider 2). -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Back issues: type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Under “Quick Search”, type in: roller39@idt.net Press your “return” key. -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF 307 EMISSION - “There are more than 100 Web sites devoted to her glory... [including] Nude Raider, for fans who think Lara’s a bit overdressed in her skintight vest and Daisy Duke shorts.” (Ibid, pg. 82.) -- +--------------' 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> /