Message-ID: <903eli$9705252041@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: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 275 Bush League (nnd) --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- YES, I GOT KICKED OFF inreach.com Dear Reader, Yes, I am once again back on the Internet! Those pesky right-wing Christians managed to convince a “Mr. Smith” at inreach.com to cancel my account. I was told by one “Ozzie” that my account was cancelled because I was “making people angry” and “causing the system to be mailbombed.” Well, there are thousands of Internet Providers in this country, and I have no problem going through each and every one of them, if necessary, in order to continue bringing you my publication. If you need to subscribe, or unsubscribe, now is the time to do it. Send your e-mail to: andrewroller@sprintmail.com Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 275 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Bush League Chapter Four ...She confided in me: “We help and support each other as much as we can. Our masters are very demanding.” “I have not seen your...” I paused. I let my breath catch. I did not want to say the word. “Master.” “Rose is doing us herself. She receives instructions every evening by telephone,” Joanne told me. “We have no idea what our masters are up to.” “Sleeping with other women, I’ll bet,” Sylvia said dolefully. “You wish. Then you think that would give you an excuse not to go through with your branding,” Joanne sniped. “They could be, you never know...” Sylvia suggested. “Or maybe they aren’t. Maybe you’re just scared,” Joanne told her. “Well, it’s my bottom that’s being branded, so I can be scared if I want to,” Sylvia said. They washed me in silence. When I was all freshened up I put on a simple pair of panties and went down to the parlor. I eschewed heels. It was warm out. I wanted to be barefoot. The castle was lightly air conditioned, but Rose liked to keep it as natural as possible. When I went into the parlor the windows were open. The curtains were drawn, keeping the interior shady. A warm wind billowed the curtains when it could and showed peeks of the parlor’s inhabitants. I sat down among them. There was Andre, with Polly beside him, clad in white panties as I was. Did we think alike? Louis was on a loveseat near their couch. He wore a casual jacket and long pants, plus loafers. Rose sat on a chair by herself, making another pouch out of yarn. “What are you knitting?” I asked her. Self-consciously I sat down on the loveseat beside Louis. I pretended not to notice his eyes. He drank me in, admiring my slim young figure and my uptilted breasts, swinging free, my too skinny legs and my hair that I liked to wear free and unfettered. I had my manacles on, of course, and my collar. I never took those off. They were the symbols of my servitude to him. “It’s for next Christmas,” Rose told me. She did not look up. Maria came in with a bowl of oysters in hot tomato sauce. She handed them to me. I saw Polly’s bowl had been set aside on the cocktail table that fronted the couch she shared with Andre. She alone hadn’t touched her oysters. Andre was finished, Louis was just polishing off his own bowl. “When Christmas comes I’m having a very handsome young man over, a virgin,” Rose said. Some ladies and I will get together and break the lad in. “I don’t know who it must be, but I’ve got my requirements. He must be young, preferably a little under 18, and shy. We like shy boys at Christmas. He must be a young athlete. His cock must be indefatigable, of course, which shouldn’t be a problem if he’s young, which of course he must be.” “How will you meet such a lad?” I asked, intrigued. I almost envied whoever it would be. He would be royally feted, knowing Rose. His only job would be to stay hard. How wonderful to be young and spend Christmas with a roomful of ladies. He would come to the castle a boy and leave quite the young Man, his cock probably aching and his balls feeling like emptied-out sacks. “I’m going to sponsor a surfing competition,” Rose said. She threaded her yarn carefully through the evolving network that was forming a perfect cock pouch for her Christmas boy to be. “In Brazil, not here. Too many surfers would spoil the remoteness here. We’re still pleasantly unknown here at the castle. But in Brazil, where the boys are, and where I wish them to stay, except for specially invited guests, I’ll sponsor a little surfing competition next December. The waves will be up and, no doubt, so will my competitors. They’ll all be strutting and showing their stuff to win the prize but myself and my friends will be picking the winner of the real prize.” I accepted a chilled glass of Arcticle beer from Maria, sipped it. A foam mustache formed on my upper lip. Louis reached over and wiped it off. I pushed his hand away. I wanted to hear Rose, not play with Louis. “So some hunk will get the money prize, some experienced man, no doubt, but you’ll be looking for someone else?” I asked. “Yes,” Rose said. She finished her yarn pouch and held it up proudly. It was large, fit for a stallion, but with a slenderness to it that befitted a young, slim, still-growing lad. “He’ll be dejected that he came in fourth, or fifteenth, or twenty-ninth, but I’ll console him with my own special consolation prize, awarded privately. Like I said, I have no idea who it’ll be. That’s what makes it fun, I guess. He’ll be healthy and young and shy, which means he won’t have experienced girls before. No VD, no herpes, none of that. Just a healthy young thing, ready to fuck.” I felt my eyes shining. It sounded very fun. I wanted to be there, but I knew it would just be Rose and her closest friends, all older ladies, hungry to be laid by a boy who, thinking himself doomed to virginity, would suddenly find himself fucking like mad. Louis reached out and toyed with my nipple. “Louissss,” I complained, and pushed him away. He refused to go. “How’s the restaurant business?” he asked. “Well, if you must know, it’s practically wore me out,” I said to him. “Good. Then at least I know who you’re fucking, and when,” he answered. I turned to him. “Is that the only reason you’re making me play waitress--to keep control of my love life?” I asked him. There was a touch of anger in my voice. He plucked an oyster from my bowl and forced it between my lips. “Eat,” Louis commanded me. I munched on my oyster. Sylvia floated into the room. She sat her bare bottom down on the couch beside me. “You didn’t require her to have her dildo put back in after her bath,” Sylvia said to Louis. She reached out and stroked my fanny. “Never mind that,” Louis said. “I’m going to do her myself, every night. I’ll keep myself inside her until morning.” “You’ll have to stay HARD until morning,” Rose laughed. She picked up her mug of Arcticle beer and swallowed down a big mouthful of it. Her breasts lifted with her arm. She wore a simple cotton blouse. It was loose and sheer. It hid nothing, letting her nipples show. They grew pointedly into her blouse as she considered my fate at the hands of Louis. “I can stay hard all night,” Louis said casually. Rose touched her throat, set down her beer on a low Rosewood flower stand beside her chair. “She’ll twitch and squirm her bottom all night,” Rose said. “Think you can stand it?” “Yes,” Louis replied, and I felt my own nipples perk up, hearing him. Sylvia caressed my bottom and then lifted her hands to accept a bowl of oysters from Maria. She cared for us well. “I want Polly branded,” Andre said. Polly found herself looking shocked and gazed about herself in wonderment. “Unless she eats her oysters, that is,” Andre added. Polly glanced into her untouched bowl and then looked away. “Yuck!” she declared. She was being a little theatrical, I think. “Andre dear, you must pick an older girlfriend if you wish to see her branded,” Rose said. “Polly is too young. She must be full grown before you can have her permanently altered.” Polly let out her breath in a loud whoosh. She and I both knew we’d never be as old as 21, or even (alas) 18! “Then I want her butthole enlarged,” Andre announced. Rose giggled. I think all of us giggled. “She must be at least 14 for that,” Rose said. She glanced at me. I smiled. I liked the idea of being widened naturally, by my boyfriend’s own cock. Let him put it up me and widen me with it. If he could keep himself hard all night, despite my squirmings, then I deserved whatever he did to me. I let Louis put another oyster in my mouth. I chewed, I swallowed, he fed me another one. I was his pet. Behind me I think Sylvia was wondering if an oyster could be put up my fanny, but she contented herself with just speculating, palming and caressing me as she munched on her own oysters. They dripped with tomato sauce. Polly stood up matter-of-factly. She stuck her thumbs into her white cotton panties and shoved them down her thighs. She kicked them off. She turned to her boyfriend and carefully opened his zipper. She’d caught him the other day, by accident, and almost been spanked for it. She knew better now. Andre sprang out of his trousers hard and excited. He had a big one. Too big for Polly, I think, but she declared that she would sit on it. She parted his big thighs and placed herself between them. Then she turned around, showing him her bottom, and she proceeded to attempt, standing on her tippie toes, to impale her heinie on him. It was a losing battle. She was too young and tight and he was too huge. Polly reached back and opened the bare cheeks of her seat and strove mightily, in her girlish way, to pop herself on top of him. We all laughed a little, enjoying her antics. At last she contented herself with just sitting in his lap. She wriggled onto the big snake of his prick, feeling him slithering underneath her. Rose watched, fretting aloud that Andre would sperm the soft fabric of her sofa. It must have been a comfy seat for him, caught between the cushiony bare bottom of Polly and his own trousers, with the sumptuous sofa just beyond. “Ah, let me take my pants off,” Andre groaned with happiness. “I was just about to suggest that you put your cock away,” Rose intoned. I don’t want to have to wash my couch. “I can hold it,” Andre replied. He unbuckled his belt and began shifting his pants down off his butt. A moment later and he’d gotten them down far enough to allow his bare, hairy ass to rest directly on the sofa. Polly bore down on his crotch with her fanny, after rising up a bit for him so he could bare himself to her. “God, this is Heaven,” Andre groaned. His dick was embedded directly within the spheres of Polly’s ass now, with the deep, rich sofa supporting his cock underneath. His pants, neatly pressed and fashionable, were down at his knees. They kept his knees close, making an even tighter enclosure for himself and Polly’s squirming tushy. “Polly, dear, don’t let him sperm my nice couch,” Rose pleaded. “He’s the one with the penis. Not me,” Polly replied. She was churlishly indifferent. She ground her soft pumpkin more wildly, shaking her breasts, lifting her arms. “Please, Polly, don’t wriggle your bottom on purpose!” I scolded her. “You’re wiggly enough without doing a lap dance on him!” “God, I don’t think I can hold it after all,” Andre moaned. “I want a lap dance too,” Louis told me. I finished the oyster in my mouth and put my oyster bowl on the floor. Maria came in, picked it up. I unzipped Louis. I bent low and kissed his prick when I’d drawn it out of his underpants. Right on his peehole I kissed him, quite boldly. “Hi,” I said to his peehole. I was feeling frisky. “Hi,” Louis replied, speaking for his penis. “Come and sit in my lap, dear,” Rose said to Sylvia. “But you don’t have a penis!” Sylvia replied. “No matter, I want to talk to you about your branding,” Rose said to her. As I shucked off my undies and got into Louis’s lap Sylvia stood and walked over to Rose. Our hostess pushed down her own small plaid skirt and welcomed Sylvia into her lap. They kissed. I turned and kissed my Louis. Andre gritted his teeth and prayed aloud that he could hold himself back just a little longer. Kelly entered. She walked over to Polly and took hold of the girl’s arm. Polly gazed up at her wide-eyed as Kelly lifted Polly bodily from the couch. “What do you have there, dear?” Rose asked Kelly. She lifted her mouth from Sylvia to inquire of her maid. Kelly held a pitcher. “Warm cream,” Kelly replied. “Ah, Maria must’ve thought I wished it. We did this once before. Alright, spoil the couch, then,” Rose said. As Polly and I watched, Kelly aimed the pitcher of cream at Andre’s crotch. He was hard, hairy, breathless, close to cumming. Kelly wore a simple skirt, stockings, high heels, but nothing else except her maid’s hat. With her breasts swaying freely, she arched her pitcher, leaned forward, and poured the rich, hot white cream directly onto Andre’s stemming cock. “Ahh, Chrissakes!” Andre howled. We watched as the cream splashed onto his dick, found its way to his balls underneath, and made a white mess of his pubic hair. When Kelly had made Andre slick with the cream Polly was told to resume her lap dance. ZINE REVIEWS by holy joe Hustler, July 1997, $5.99. Web: http://www.hustler.com Review: Apparently, the Christians have failed, at least for now, to get the Communications Decency Act passed into law. (Although various senators promise a “Son of CDA” if the CDA is struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court. Meanwhile, the Christians intend to mailbomb everyone they disagree with into oblivion. So, I have been thinking. (Usually a dangerous thing in my case, but I did it anyway.) What if Larry Flint started an Internet Service Provider? What we need in this country is a nationally-based, nationally-known Internet Service Provider, whose very name stands for freedom. What better name than “Hustler”? Based on the tactics of the Christians, I would hasten to add that any freedom-loving ISP needs to protect itself from mailbombs. They just need to know, from the start, that when they themselves aren’t being mailbombed, their various customers will be. But, with mailbomb software in place, there shouldn’t be any problem. In the meantime, when I’m not on the Internet, I’ve got more time to read porn! And this issue of Hustler is one of the best porno magazines I’ve ever seen. “Sadie” (pg. 24) invites the reader to some down-home cooking, out on the range, where no one can hear her scream. What a glorious bottom this girl has! (In fact, many photos in this issue of Hustler are of breathtakingly beautiful bottoms!) When you’re admiring Sadie, don’t forget to look on the Table of Contents page. (pg. 3) I really liked that photo of her too. “Lust Ward” (pg. 58) features Annie and Kris. They’re inmates in an asylum. At the beginning of this pictorial, they’re beguilingly wrapped up in straightjackets. But one girl manages to free the other. They’re still locked up, so they decide to pass the time making love to each other. What a delightful pictorial! I could go into an essay on how modern psychiatry is little more than an arm of the police state, but I’m still too busy jacking off to these lovely lasses to write such a serious essay. Suffice it to say, if you’re arrested in today’s America, and the police can’t figure out how to stick your ass in the jail, you’re not taken home. Instead you’re taken to the “Mental Health” Clinic. There, from what I hear, you can be forcibly drugged. (Of course, if you’re still living with your parents, or have money and influence, this is less likely to happen. But if you’re on your own, as an ordinary citizen of the United States of America, you’re out of luck.) Next up is “Rachel.” (pg. 82) The title of her pictorial is “Roughing it.” She’s out in the woods. (Where no one can hear her scream either). She’s lost her clothes, but she’s still got her little pup tent with her. Staring at these photos, though, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s having to set up that pup tent for her boyfriend. And, looking at pg. 87, I’m guessing that, just as her boyfriend is inducing her to play with herself, guests show up. Are they there to play with her too? And what about her bottom? It looks perfect for spanking! Well, I hope Rachel doesn’t have too rough a time in the woods. Rick and Kim, meanwhile, are “Bank Jobbers.” (pg. 98) But they’re so horny they soon forget all about robbing the bank. Rick takes out his prick and does a number on Kim, quite beautifully. Usually I’m not fond of Male/Female pictorials. I mean, they leave the Christians nothing to complain of! (Except that some guy happened to photograph them.) But this pictorial was quite nice. I especially liked seeing them kiss (pg. 104 ) and seeing Rick stick his finger in Kim’s mouth (pg. 100). Last up in this issue is “Mindy.” (pg. 164) But she’s shaved her pussy and looks, well, uh, young. So I’ll skip mentioning her. I wouldn’t want to offend anyone’s morals. AND IN THE END... FEMINISM WINS AGAIN! “The age for eligible gymnasts has been raised to 16 for the Sydney Olympics. (Of course, if this rule had always been in effect, fans would [have] been deprived of the most stirring performance in gymnastics history, Nadia Comaneci’s quadruple gold at the ‘76 Olympics -- when she was 14.)” - Newsweek, May 26, 1997, pg. 14. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age statement to: andrewroller@sprintmail.com -To unsubscribe: send unsubscribe message to andrewroller@sprintmail.com -formerly I was roller66@inreach.com, roller666@aol.com - 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. -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 -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 275 EMISSION - America, land of the free. (Except for writers and thinkers.) -- +--------------' 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> /