Message-ID: <811eli$9705142325@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: roller66@inreach.com (Andrew Roller) Subject: FUCK DECENCY 265 Bush League (nnd) g2 YES, I GOT KICKED OFF AOL Dear Reader, the right-wing Christians finally managed to get me kicked off of America Online. I was told by America Online that my web page violated their "Terms of Service." As you know, my web page was titled "holy joe's Totally Worthless web page." It had absolutely nothing on it. There was a very poor drawing of a hobo's face, and a very abbreviated statement of how to subscribe to this newsletter. There was, of course, no appeal from AOL's decision to terminate my account. My AOL web page and my AOL ftp sites no longer exist. They have been destroyed by AOL. For all I know, I may be kicked off this new service, InReach Internet, by the right-wing Christians. I will do my best to continue publishing this newsletter. Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 265 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Bush League Chapter Two I managed to tip my head slightly to one side. There, on the couch, sat my lover, with Cheyenne sitting primly beside him. She was still clad in her panties, but Louis' cock reared up through his pants fly. Andre's was similarly displayed. Cheyenne was playing her mittened fingers underneath their cocks, very lightly, as if preparing them for something herself. "Oh, how I would love to trade Fleury for one of you!" Rose declared, seeing Cheyenne entertaining the twin cocks. Suddenly, in my mind, I saw Louis tied in my place, with his cock stemming high, waving like a third pole, but without the bunting, and the little silken whip raining down on his balls and his glans. I felt a rush of excitement between my legs. "I've struck oil!" Sylvia announced for all the world to hear. My essence was secreting itself. I heard a laugh and turned my head and blushed as I saw people outside, looking in, some nicely dressed, others just in swimsuits. They stared at my gagged face. But they looked more intensely at my breasts, or especially between my legs, where a lifting of Sylvia's head to catch her breath allowed the guests outside to see my slit. Wide open, yielding, quite wet now. Rose eased Sylvia's head aside and brought her whip down once more. I howled. My breasts shook. Joanne lifted her face and let Rose strike my titties. Then my cunt again. Then my titties. After each blow my twin girlfriends immediately attempted to soothe me with their tongues. On and on it went. In the distance Cheyenne kept fingering Louis and Andre's cock, very discreetly. They undid her panties at last, slipping the drawstrings. They got up and urged her toward the dias. She cried out and dropped her purse. "Yes, you must be next dear. You are too pretty to pass up," Rose said. I was untied by Joanne and Sylvia. I was shunted aside like a toy from some Christmas past and Cheyenne was fastened down in my place. They did not bother to change the silk cloth on the bolster. They stuffed her panties in her mouth, skipped the gag, and began beating her with the whip. I lay curled in a fetal position nearby. My cunny stung, my nipples stung, my bottom was still sore from last night. All my tenderest places, which should have been properly clothed, were nude and stinging. They made Cheyenne suffer just as I had. Joanne and Sylvia tongued her to give her a little respite from the blows. Louis and Andre watched, standing over her, ignoring me, letting their pricks stand out like hard locks, but not touching them, for Rose insisted they must not. "Now for you, Andre," Rose said when Cheyenne's turn was over. Bawling, she was rolled over to me and Louis laughingly tied his friend down. Joanne and Sylvia helped, as well as Rose. Andre was resistant. But he did not use all his strength to prevent his fate, and so at last Louis won, and to my heartbeating surprise I found myself staring at Andre's big sausage-like pecker, sticking straight up and showing its glory. Even Cheyenne stopped her sobbing to admire such a glorious sight. Rose licked her lips and began the torture. At once Andre shouted. It hurt far worse than he imagined. Rose eased up a little and played over him awhile. She stung his cock all up and down its length. Andre asked her to spare his nuts but she did not. Despite her wishes to see him be a father, she bounced the cruel tips all over his bulging sack with its precious twin testicles. Andre bellowed like a steer being neutered. The guests outside laughed. It was not their genitals on display, suffering under the cat. "Cum, cum, cum," Joanne and Sylvia began chanting. Cheyenne joined them. Rose chimed in, timing each "cum" with another blow of her cat. I could not speak. I was still gagged. A recess was called. Joanne and Sylvia were permitted to tongue and soothe our bold hero's loins. Andre whimpered like a dog. It was so pleasurable, feeling two young females attend to his stiff groin, and yet the whip was such agony, its sting lasting even as Joanne and Sylvia did their best to make him feel only pleasure. "What? The girls didn't make you cum? After all that work?" Rose scolded Andre when Joanne and Sylvia stopped to catch their breaths. They had really given him their all, hoping to make him cum so Rose would release him. Andre seemed confused. To cum was often a crime here, spoiling our pleasure. Yet now it seemed to be required. But for Andre, cumming was now a more distant option, for instead of letting the girls please him again Rose beat him instead. WHICKCK! WHICKCK! came the silken, knotted cords down on poor Andre's shaft and balls. I was feeling quite sorry for him now, knowing how much Rose's torture had hurt me. Still gagged, but with my hands free, I suddenly leapt up and crawled to Andre and grabbed his cock with both my hands. "No! No more!" I cried. My words were mangled but there was no mistaking my desire. My breasts wiggled freely beneath me. My bottom stuck out in back, impudently, and I had no doubt Louis felt like kicking me in the ass with his sharp pointed shoes. Andre's pants, removed and discarded, lay dangling off the edge of the dias. He was helpless. Only I cared enough to save him. I put my cheek to his penis and, despite the gag, I rubbed my cheek up and down his meaty pole. Rose relented. She let me have Andre all to myself. Joanne bent down and untied my gag for me. I spit it out as soon as I could. Awful thing. It had my saliva on it and would have had my blood on it too if I'd been allowed to bite as I'd wished to. Hungrily I stuffed Andre's poor organ into my mouth. I did not care about anything except getting as much of his injured tool safely into my mouth as I could. I rammed him down my throat. I gagged on his penis but I did not try to stop myself. Louis gazed down at me. Sylvia watched with amusement. Rose let her cat dangle, unsure how to proceed, or whether to proceed at all. I felt like a little rabbit, hunched down, my eyes attentive, my mouth gorged on Andre's manhood. For at least a minute all remained like this, the crowd watching, Cheyenne watching, Louis watching. And then, deep in my throat, I felt a sudden spurting. Andre shouted like a boy having his first spurt. His mouth gasped. The crowd outside erupted into laughter and then, after a moment, applause. I let Andre jet deep into my throat. I worked as best as I could to swallow all he gave me. It was too much, though, and it came oozing and then rushing out of my widespread lips, running down the length of his sausage that I hadn't been able to fit into me. After an especially long ejaculation, my palms palming his balls and feeling their swelling ease, Andre sighed. I felt his huge worm lose some of its hardness within my mouth and throat. Down he slipped, retracting on his own. At last I spat out his cockhead, regretfully. I gazed at its saliva slicked surface, a sheen of his own sperm mingled with my eager spit. I kissed his softened cockhead and stood. I grimaced as, in standing, I felt the torture anew upon my cunt, where Rose had beaten me. I stumbled backward and Louis caught me. Cheyenne crawled to me and placed her mouth upon my bush. I stood hanging in Louis's arms, my legs akimbo, my cunny pulsing. Oblivious to her own pain, Cheyenne began tonguing me. Then, lightly, carefully, she put a hand to her own slit as she licked mine. It was no use, I saw. She could not touch herself with her fingertips. It was too painful. But a tongue would be just right. She desisted, taking her fingers away from herself, but nobody came to her aid. Joanne had gone down on Sylvia, the two of them entertaining each other, while Rose found herself consoling Andre and, eventually, lying with him on the dias and kissing him again and again, running her hands over his chest, toying with his cat-kissed member. Cheyenne remained kneeling disciple-like before me. She tongued me until my chest heaved and my bosoms bounced, my breath coming in quick gasps and then fretful moans and finally blurting out orgasmic screams. As soon as I'd had my turn, I let Louis drop me and I licked Cheyenne between her own legs. She trembled under my tonguings. Louis watched with fascination. He began stroking himself. He warned us he would spurt all over our lovely hair but we didn't care. Cheyenne gazed up at him, her breasts bare, her nipples hard and her eyes soft. Her mouth mouthed out gasps of increasing pleasure. At last, under my helpful tongue, she cried out in alarm and felt herself go over the edge. As soon as she did, Louis hosed us both down with his sperm. "Louis!" I cried, my mouth buried in Cheyenne's cunt. I didn't really think he would do it, perhaps, but he did, and I knew I'd have to spend an hour in the tub now getting all his stickiness out. He spurted over me, then, showing enormous restraint, he waggled over to Cheyenne's face and gave her the rest of himself, squirting her right on her nose and then decorating her lovely brown hair as if it were a chocolate cake in search of vanilla icing. "Oh, Louis!" Cheyenne breathed, but she was otherwise to pleasurably entertained by my mouth to protest. I finished her, then lifted my face and kissed Louis's leg. He smiled at me. There were drippings left, and he turned and offered to sprinkle them over me. I let him. It was too late now. I was doomed to the bath anyhow. After all of us were spent we went our separate ways. Louis and Cheyenne, and I, however, agreed to take our bath together. As the sun set outside, we all spent the next hour in my bathtub in my room. We soaped each other's privates, Louis doing Cheyenne and I very tenderly, so as not to hurt us. Then Cheyenne and I did him. We washed our hair, too, Cheyenne and I, and it took awhile to get Louis's very virile sperm out of our hair, but Louis helped a little, massaging our scalps and kissing our eyelids. Afterwards, standing outside the tub and patting each other down with a towel, Cheyenne made a suggestion. "Let's go downstairs and get a bite to eat and then come back up and start all over again, in bed," she said. Her eyes glowed. Despite my whipping I felt renewed somehow within my cunny lips and along the tips of my tits. My bottom felt better, my weal sinking back down flush with my skin. I looked at her. She looked at me. Louis gazed at us with a male's possessiveness and we both giggled as we watched his cock begin to rise. "Just tongues this time, no whip," I said to Cheyenne. "Yes, please," she answered. "Okay," I agreed. We leaned into each other, our hands at our sides, and let our tongues touch, opening our mouths to let them out. Louis caressed our bottoms. "Come on! I'm hungry!" Cheyenne said suddenly, breaking our kiss. We couldn't continue or we'd wind up going all night on empty stomachs. She turned and took my hand and we walked together to the bathroom door. Cheyenne beckoned for Louis who was beside us like a hound in heat, and she took his hand also. Together we marched downstairs, quite naked. Nobody minded seeing us munching in the kitchen. Our bodies were lithe and tanned. Our boobies were cute and full and white, a nice contrast to our limbs and tummies, and our bottoms matched our boobs, with even my marks from my whipping by Bambi almost gone. Cheyenne's bottom had yet to feel the lash. Louis, of course, was a real attention getter, with his giant organ sticking straight up by now, an open invitation to any female within 200 miles. We found ourselves joined by curious spectators in the kitchen, and the recipients of many offers, but we declined them all. When we were done eating we retreated upstairs, where some kind soul had changed my bedsheets yet again. But we knew they'd soon require changing yet again, for as soon as we hit the sheets Louis was already dripping pre-cum on them. Cheyenne and I quickly set about getting each other moist also. We spent the night tearing the bed apart, moaning and crying aloud and loving each other til dawn. No whips, no punishments, just the sensuous torture of delicate tongues and probing fingers and, amidst it all, Louis's powerful cock. "It's morning, time to go to sleep," Cheyenne said to me at last. She giggled and took my face in her hands and kissed me. "Yeth," I answered. Louis's groin was against my bottom but he was utterly spent now. There was a wet spot under my hip. My cunny and bottomhole ached with his comings and goings. Cheyenne was as ravaged as me. I felt down between her legs for her slit and she winced as I touched it. "Oh, please don't," she begged. "I'm worn out too," I admitted. And, speaking in hushed tones like that to each other in the fresh light of dawn, we fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. Chapter Three We slept all day. Eventually Louis got up. In my sleepiness I felt him draw back the bedcovers after he'd slipped out, to admire Cheyenne and I. We lay face to face, on our tummies, with our white bottoms sticking up at him. Her arm was crossed protectively over my waist. She was, after all, a little older than me. Louis traced his finger down the cleft of my bottom. It was all better. I could feel that. I tensed my cheeks a little. In my mind I hoped he'd pry me apart and force me to take him up the ass. But he must have thought I wanted him to desist, for he withdrew his finger. He replaced the bedcovers. I sighed, a little remorseful, but he took it for contentment and turned and strode from the room. A father checking on his child, finding her asleep in her crib. He left. I was alone with Cheyenne. She stirred a little and nuzzled me with her nose. Her mouth exhaled into mine. It was sweet, in a female, primalistic sort of way. I drifted off to sleep again, feeling quite protected, thank you, despite the presence of the post above my head, where I'd been tied and beaten. It was somnolent now, tucked back against the wall, like a penis put back in a man's pants after he's done using it. Later I heard Polly shrieking. I wondered, listened. Yes. She was running around the castle and had gotten Louis and Andre to chase her. When they flagged in their attempts to catch her she teased them. My, such lurid taunts she used. Where did she learn those? And then she'd be screaming again, delightedly, as the two big men raced after her. Back and forth through the trees they must be running now, for her screams did not disappear round the backside of the castle as before, but remained below my window, more distant, then closer again. HOT OFF THE PRESS by holy joe Kinky Konnections, May 1997, $5.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint pages. Kinky Konnections, P.O. Box 2116, New York, NY 10116-2116. Review: A little maiden, who looks about 12-years-old, gazes out at you. She is clad in black leather. She is clutching a big riding crop. "Welcome to Flog Castle," reads the copy (pg. 34). Eagerly, you turn the page. EEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAA!!! Some poor fuck, on page 36, looks like he's getting something jammed up his ass, though you can't quite see what it is. This is a magazine for men who like to be dominated by women. I have always wondered about the masculinity of men who like to be dominated by women. It seems to me that they're closet homosexuals. I could see, perhaps, being dominated by a 12-year-old maiden. I don't think that would make one into a fag. But being dominated by a woman seems to me, at least, to be only one step away from faggotry. This magazine arrived in my mailbox for free, presumably in hopes of getting a free review. If you're a man who likes being dominated by women, and likes lots of other dirty shit besides that, you'll enjoy this magazine. (For those with high-class taste, I highly recommend page 34. The rest of this magazine can be tossed in the trash.) Exotic Magazine, April 1997, $1.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint pages. X Publishing, Inc., 625 SW 10th Avenue, Suite 324B, Portland, OR 97205. email: xmag@teleport.com www: http://www.xmag.com Review: J.G. Ballard is a fairly good science fiction writer. He also wrote a book about people who like getting in car wrecks. Recently, this book (I'm not sure of its title) was made into a movie. The movie is called "Crash." That's about the most interesting thing in this magazine, based on my cursory review of it. (I got this magazine for free). What I actually like reading most in each issue of this magazine is "Carnal Knowledge." This column contains brief comments by the magazine's editor, on page two. This issue the editor reports various problems with the cover of his previous issue: "Never have we received as many complaints about our cover (from prudish people without a clue) railing about the effect of the cover on children. One lady called to complain that the cover in the newsracks downtown had butt cheeks exactly the height of her little boy's eyes." Such is life in 1990's America, where even a female in a thong can provoke outrage. AND IN THE END... DOWN WITH PEDOPHILES! "When you find something that everybody agrees on, you can be sure of one thing. That it's wrong." - Congressman Morris Udall -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: roller66@inreach.com -To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com -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 265 EMISSION - Udall: The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, May 9, 1997. -- +--------------' 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> /