Message-ID: <5695eli$9711191341@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 313 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: <3472075B.64F4@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- MATTEL TO RELEASE NEW “KEN” LOS ANGELES (UP) - Mattel Toy Co. announced today that a new Ken doll will be released in the first quarter of 1998. Ken is the companion doll to Barbi. “The new Ken doll is designed to raise boys’ self esteem, and to lower the expectations of girls,” a Mattel spokesperson said Tuesday. “It will be an anatomically correct doll. It will reflect the physical proportions of the average American male. Too many girls have grown up playing with the equivalent of Clark Kent, aka. Superman. Our new Ken doll will help girls feel comfortable when they find themselves in bed with the average male,” Mattel said. Mattel detailed Ken’s new proportions: “The doll won’t be bald. Ken will, however, be balding. He will wear glasses. He will have an overbite. His shoulders will be narrower than on the old doll. His hips will be wider. “Ken’s stomach will be bigger than his chest. His legs will be short, and Ken will be shorter than Barbi. He will, however, have large feet. They will have a slight odor. “Like many men, Ken will have a small mustache. This will make up for his sparse amount of chest hair. Also, it will be in keeping with Ken’s new 1990’s role as a Police Officer. He will come equipped with a nightstick, though children playing with Barbi can have her wield the nightstick if they prefer,” Mattel said. Other attire available for Ken will also be in line with 1990’s American values, according to Mattel. The new Ken will come with optional clothing that can allow him to be dressed as a nurse, a secretary, or a hair stylist. When asked to provide further details on Ken’s anatomy, Mattel noted that he will have peppercorn hair, Asian eyes, and no penis. “We’re calling him ‘Multi-Cultural Ken’,” the Mattel spokesperson enthused. “His mother was Asian, his father was black. His grandfather was white, however, but his grandmother was Puerto Rican. His great-grandfather was an Eskimo. “Ken’s religion, however, is Native American,” the Mattel spokesperson added. “He prays to the Great Spirit. However, he is also a believer in Jesus Christ, and goes to church every Sunday. On Saturday, he goes to the Jewish Temple. And, every day, he prays five times during the day to Mecca. At night he practises Buddhism.” A reporter for Toy Insider provided additional details on the physical aspects of the Ken doll: “He has a rather large navel. Also, they enlarged his ass because, like the average American male, he spends a lot of time sitting and watching T.V. He has an overdeveloped right hand which, Mattel assured me, is from using the T.V. remote control, not from reading magazines. “Frankly,” the reporter for Toy Insider confided, “The new Ken looks a lot like that guy. What’s his name? Holy joe. Now your daughter can play all day with Holy joe.” Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: Crab the dog Issue No. 313 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Nudie Nursery Chapter Three “Kiss my hand,” Jasmine said. She presented it palm upward, the very palm that had just slapped me! I hesitated. She drew her hand away and abruptly slapped me again. “OWWWW!” I cried. I bent my head down and felt my breasts shiver beneath me as my ass bobbed all around, brazenly displaying itself. I squeezed my cheeks into themselves and then let go, squeezed again. “Kiss my hand,” Jasmine ordered once more. This time when she offered her palm to my lips I kissed her hand freely. “Very good,” she said afterward. She made me turn around. “Your breasts are lovely, let me feel them,” she said. I stood quietly and she fondled me roughly, squeezing my tits like fruit in a market. She gave each of my nipples a little pinch. I suppressed a cry. “You are young and healthy, fit for training,” Jasmine said. “Let me see your teeth.” I opened my mouth. I said ‘ah.’ She looked inside. “Yes, you can wear a bit,” she said. She reached down and fondled my dell. A finger intruded. “You have had sex before?” she asked. I bit my lip and nodded. “You feel tight. We will work on that. Turn around again.” I turned, fearfully. She spread my ass cheeks and looked at the dimple of my hole. “Fine, good, let me feel,” she said, pleased with my appearance, wanting to check me inside. “Don’t resist me, girl,” she warned. But despite licking the tip of her finger she could barely get it in. “You will have to be widened,” she said at last with a sigh. Again I sensed her jaded nature. She had trained other girls before, I knew. I was nothing new, just another 16-year-old, I realized. Had Brent brought other girls before me, or was I his first, and Jasmine merely a woman old before her time, her looks remaining, but her desire depleted? She made me turn to face her again and I felt as if I were in the presence of a nurse, being examined clinically, not for the purposes of love. “Sit down on that chair,” she said. She pointed to a big furry armchair and I walked self-consciously to it and sat down in its warmth with my bare bottom. My bottom that would have to be widened. My cheeks felt tight upon the soft fuzzy seat of the chair. I did not want to be widened. Jasmine lay a simple cloth beneath my left arm. Then she produced a needle from a little bag and a tourniquet. I gasped, cringed. My nipples, hard already, stiffened even further in fright. “A blood test is necessary to make sure you’re free of disease,” Jasmine said. She did not stop to ask my permission but merely took my slim arm and wrapped the tubing tightly around it. She swabbed the crook of my arm with an alcohol pad. “All our men here are free from disease, you can be assured of that,” she told me. She stabbed. I screamed briefly but I couldn’t help it. “Don’t resist any of them. They will not give you any diseases, nor the women either.” When the syringe was full Jasmine removed the needle, popped the tourniquet, and handed me a fresh piece of cotton. I daubed the place where she’d stabbed me. Another woman made me stand. I remembered from our introductions that she was named Lisa. She clasped my shoulders and guided me out of the room. As I passed Brent I saw that he was still being entertained by the other woman, the one who liked cream-crackers. A friend had undressed her and she was down on her knees now, sucking hard on my new boyfriend. With a grunt he suddenly came in her mouth and she began swallowing quickly. “We all share here,” Lisa told me. “Never refuse anyone. It is not permitted.” I watched in dismay as my new boyfriend’s seed spilled from the lips of the woman and ran down her chin and speckled her breasts. “Do you feel jealous?” Lisa asked me. “Yes,” I answered. “Good, you have come to the right place then,” Lisa replied. “We can train you not to.” She took my hand. Together we walked from the room, as if girlfriends, and she guided me down a long hallway and out onto a back porch. There were leaves on the porch. A small fountain tinkled forth its essence, surrounded by rose bushes. Lisa, her hair as golden as mine in the moonlight of a fresh summer evening, walked me through the open air to a wing of the building. It was made of old stone, as if the villa where the living room lay had been built years afterward, the newer portion being of brick. “We keep the slaves here,” Lisa said. She produced a key from the top of her stocking, which she’d neatly folded down to hold it, and opened a wooden door in the side of the wall. Inside, despite the age of the building, was a room with new furniture. There was a chair with a rattan seat, a soft carpet on the floor, and, in the corner, a vanity with a mirror and a place for me to sit and do my makeup. In the center of the room was a big bed with brass railings at both ends. Above, ominously, hung chains, two on the stone wall at the head of the bed and two suspended over the bed, fixed to the ceiling. A bathroom beckoned in an adjoining room, seen through an open door. “It’s a communal bath,” Lisa said. “But the bedroom’s private, if your master permits the door to be closed.” She drew me to the vanity. There was a vase of fresh roses there, still dripping with dew. She let me bend close and sniff them. “Jasmine will come in a little while and whip you,” Lisa said. “She may bring your master to watch, or she may do it alone.” I started, my face bent to the flowers. Lisa saw my surprise and patted my bottom. “You are well-formed for it,” she said. “You would not have been selected if you weren’t. Brent’s very picky, and only the best girls are accepted here. The photographer in L.A. faxed us your photo, did you know that?” She pointed to jars and phials arranged on the vanity. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty here to soothe your bottom when she’s done. I’ll take care of that. Would you like a mint?” she opened the top of a small glass container. Inside were small wrapped mints, expensive ones, with a German name stamped on each of them. “Thank you,” I said. She plucked one from the bowl and unwrapped it for me. I felt submissive. She made me open my mouth for her and she popped it in. “Let’s get you all ready for Jasmine,” she said. The mint melted on my tongue. I swallowed. “Come, it’s my duty to give you your bath.” We stepped into the communal bathroom. It was made of cedar wood, with a rich odor wafting up from the planks which surrounded us. Along one wall a sunken tub waited to be filled. There was one commode, and a bidet, plus a long countertop with plenty of room for the sink and various brushes and combs and bottles and lotions. I saw a glass with three toothbrushes standing up in it. Lisa began the tub water and then opened the medicine cabinet. Inside was a small packet of birth control pills. She removed it and filled a glass with water. “Open wide,” she told me. I did and she popped in the pill and made me take a big gulp of water. “There, now you’re all set,” she said, and patted my fanny. She made me take off my stockings and shoes and get in the tub. She added bubbles to make the water scented. I splashed awhile, enjoying the heat, the freedom, Lisa kneeling beside the tub, watching me, happy, observant but unobtrusive. Finally she made me stop playing and she had me stand up in front of her and she scrubbed me very freely and thoroughly with a sponge. When I got out of the tub my whole body was tingling. Lisa dried me with a big fluffy towel. Then she drew me back into the other room, leaving the bathroom door open. Beside the vanity she put a leather collar around my neck. It was black, like soft felt inside, shiny on the outside. She locked it around my throat so that I couldn’t remove it. “This helps us control you, if we need to grab you or tie you or anything,” Lisa explained. “It’s also a sign of your submission. It’ll be replaced by a black frill, like I’m wearing around my neck, when you graduate.” She kissed my cheek. “Now hop into bed. Jasmine will be here soon.” “I-” How could I say this to her? That I was having second thoughts, that I wanted to go home. “I don’t want to go through with this,” I said in a small, halting voice. “That’s fine,” Lisa said. “We’ll be sterner with you if you resist. Some girls need that.” “No, I mean, REALLY--!” I said, but she simply took my arm and led me to the big bed and, when I refused to get in, she tumbled me into it. I was afraid and as a result my knees were wobbly and so when she pushed me, unexpectedly, I fell quite easily. I lay under her gaze, awkward, newly fallen, my knees partly drawn up to my chest, my legs long and coltish. My chest heaved with my fear and my bosoms wobbled. My nipples were stiffer than I’d ever felt them. I raised my hands, covered them. I tried to close my thighs to keep her from seeing my bush. “Resist if you like. Jasmine has trained all kinds,” Lisa smiled. She walked from the room, naked as myself but wearing only a frill round her neck, plus her stockings and heels. I was utterly nude now, without a single stitch of clothing, collared like an animal. Lisa stopped at the door, turned, and blew me a kiss. Then she stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind her. I heard her turn the key in the lock. I jumped up. I was free as an Indian. This wasn’t like other books, other stories, I’d heard of, where girls were chained up in their bedrooms. I ran to the door, struggling with my collar. It wouldn’t come off. I grabbed the door’s handle. It wouldn’t open. I looked about. There had to be a way out! Suddenly I heard a door open within the bathroom. There were three doors, one inlaid within each of the walls, with the sunken tub having a wall all to itself. A girl stumbled into the bathroom. Her hair was lovely but she was naked and crying. Her bottom seemed to have a deep blush upon it. I was about to run up to her, to help her, when a huge monster-like man emerged from the door she’d just come through. “Drink from the toilet, bitch!” he yelled. MR. PRUNEY by Kenneth Pobo Some guys at the gym call him Mr. Pruney because he stays and stays and stays in the shower watching one man after another so that when he finally comes out he’s pruney as can be dressing slowly not wanting to miss a good one despised laughed at it’s hard to blame him many gardens are so beautiful that you have to stay put no matter how hard it rains AND IN THE END... “There are no laments about working-class jobs on ‘Bridges to Babylon’, the group’s new album, just good old-fashioned lust through the dark glasses of a dirty old man.” - The Economist, October 25, 1997, pg. 32 (on the Rolling Stones and Mick Jagger). -------------------------- 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/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope 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. Work by others copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF 313 EMISSION GOD IS GAY ! - “Yet... Mr. Jagger [is] a surprisingly well-read and courteous man off-stage.” (Ibid.) -- +--------------' 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> /