Message-ID: <13506eli$9807300156@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 395 Passions Playpen NND g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.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: <35BF764C.7185@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- “There is a wall of money ready to hit any business that stands even a slim chance of becoming a blue-chip Internet brand.” - The Economist, July 25, 1998, pg. 62. As you know, brand names are very important. There’s Sears, K-Mart, and even aol.com. For a brand name to be successful, it must be a name that everyone has at the tip of their tongue. I’m no slacker in this department. As you can see, my brand name is a word everyone knows: fuck. Heck, you probably hear fuck every day. The other half of my brand name is a word you hear a lot too: decency. Put the two together and what do you have, if not a billion dollar brand name? Investors of the world, don’t be left out. I can see it now: “I thought that damn zine was just SPAM. Now its stock sells for $200.00!” Of course, the wise investor will want to read a prospectus. He’ll want to see the Fuck Decency stock offering laid out in legal language, and written about in an approving way by accountants. But, gentlemen, do you know how much lawyers and accountants cost? Figure it this way: a porno magazine costs $5.99. Thousands of dollars that could be put to a useful purpose, buying porn for me to review in Fuck Decency, would have to be wasted (on lawyers, no less!) in order for you to read some fancy prospectus. So, let’s not waste any money, okay? Here’s how I’ll spend your money: First of all, I’m going to need a continuing supply of porn. As you know, porno reviews are a staple of Fuck Decency, so I’ll need to have plenty of money to go to Tower Books every day and get all the latest magazines. American magazines, like Playboy and Penthouse. British magazines, like Mayfair. French magazines, like Club and the French Penthouse. Heck, Tower even sells porno magazines from Mexico, Australia, and Japan! That’s a lot of dollars, as you can see, but I’m willing to work hard at spending them to insure a proper return for you. Next, there are video tapes. I will need to go to the SunCoast video store on a regular basis to keep up with all the new Playboy tapes. I’ll need to go to Virgin Megastore to get all the Penthouse tapes. Plus, as you know, there are thousands of other tapes, by lesser known brands. I’ll probably need to buy several VCR’s and run them day and night to keep Fuck Decency up to date on all the latest pornographic offerings. Now, with all those magazines and tapes, I’m going to need someplace to put them. This had me stumped for awhile. Where could I find a really big house to put all that porn? I thought and thought. Then it hit me; of course! Beverly Hills. When I found out that Larry Flint already lives in Beverly Hills, that clinched it for me. If we’re going to make lots of money, we need to think like the big, successful entrepreneurs do. Fuck Decency has been published for three years and still has no pictures of naked girls. This is a deficiency that must be remedied at once. So, when I have purchased a mansion in Beverly Hills, I am going to have to throw a big party to let all the girls know I’m in town and ready to photograph them. Young girls are popular right now, so I will have to invite girls who are soon going to turn 18. This means I will have to go around to all the high schools and pass out invitations to all the girls. I won’t want to look like some pervert so I’ll need a big limo to take me around. We may as well buy the limo instead of just renting it, since the girls will probably want to go to the beach or something, and what better way to keep them happy than by taking them in a limo? As you know, Playboy has been around for over 40 years. So there’s no sense in just passing out invitations to pose for Fuck Decency to girls in high school. It will be a big job, but I may as well visit the junior high schools and elementary schools too. I’ll invite them all to my party, so they can all know that Fuck Decency is ready and waiting to photograph them! (I’d go to the nursery schools too, but since the girls there can’t read the invitations, it seems like it would be rather pointless.) Of course you can’t have a party for little girls, even in a big mansion, without having a swimming pool. There will probably already be a pool in the backyard of any mansion I buy in Beverly Hills, but this question arises: with so many little girls running around my house, will they all be able to fit in my pool? I guess I could put some girls in the bath tub in my house, but why not build an indoor pool too? I figure with an outdoor pool, an indoor pool, a jacuzzi, AND a bath tub, there should be just enough water for all the girls to have fun. Oh, yes. No pool or bath tub is complete without a rubber ducky or inflatable raft, so I will need to buy a lot of those too, so each little girl can have one of her very own. I guess I should detail all the various types of food that will be needed at my party. But that would take up the rest of this issue. Just ask your daughter what she likes to eat, write it all down, figure out what it costs to buy all that stuff, and then multiply it by 3,000. (Don’t forget: what goes in comes back out, so include toilet paper on the list.) After the party is over, I will of course need to get down to work. I’m sure you’re wondering about transportation in and around Beverly Hills, and I am too. How is the busy publisher of a successful Internet zine supposed to get things done when L.A.’s freeways are jammed with cars? The solution, of course, is to travel by helicopter. Sure, the limo might be nice for taking the Fuck Decency girls to the beach, but when time is of the essence, only a helicopter will do! So part of your investment will have to be put to this purpose. Which raises another question: If we’re going to build a helipad, why not just pour a little more asphalt and build a runway? By knocking down a few adjacent homes, we could even make it an International runway. Then if somebody like the President wanted to visit he could fly right in and park Air Force One right in my backyard. (You gotta figure, with 3,000 underage girls all partying at my mansion, Bill might want to cum!) With a Presidential Visit, we are guaranteed International news coverage. The Fuck Decency party will be on ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, CNBC. You get the picture: By thinking big, we maximize our returns! Yes, now is the time to invest in the Next Big Thing: Fuck Decency! Never mind “portals”, “content aggregators”, or “gateways”. Take this little test: find a 15-year-old boy and ask him, “Son, would you rather spend your money on portals, content aggregators, gateways, or naked girls?” DON’T invest a penny unless he answers with the latter! Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY free plug: NAKED girls and more at: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com don’t miss investing here either! Issue No. 395 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Passion’s Playpen Chapter Six Marie extended a curled finger and touched Nancy’s slitted nest. Nancy jerked but did not complain. She kept her hips offered. She gritted her teeth a little as Marie began to stroke her fleece. “Yes, Nancy, I’m going to excite you a little first... ah, is that your spot? Have I found it?” Marie asked. Nancy seized up like a child receiving an injection. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “And then, Nancy dear, when you’re in a nice heat, I’m going to flip you over my knee and paddle your cute little ass.” “Oh, NO pleazzze,” Nancy begged, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Yes, and with this crop if you prove uncooperative,” Marie said. “Nobody gets out of my game room with an uninjured bottom, my dear. Erotically injured, of course. Something to make you remember me by when you sit down tomorrow, and the next day too. I consider it a gift. From me to you,” Marie said to Nancy. She invaded the girl’s slit but Nancy remained standing. She clapped her hands to her bottom and begged that it be spared. Yet she stood complaint, pushing her hips out to Marie. Nancy’s small hands rubbed the white cheeks of her ass and she remained with her eyes fixed on the roof. Kate marvelled at Marie. The woman was completely self-possessed. She amused herself in Nancy’s slit as unabashedly as if the girl were a visiting niece, and she simply straightening her dress for her. Marie looked at Beth. “Tell Sherry to come in and clean for us,” Marie said to Beth even as she kept a finger within Nancy’s private. “Yes,m,” Beth answered. Beth went to the door of the game room and unbarred it. It was locked but she knew the combination. She drew back the hasp from the bar and lifted the bar. It was wooden, heavy. Beth had to strain to get it up, although Marie, with her catlike strength, had shown little difficulty putting the bar in place. Kate wondered if she herself were Batgirl and Marie the Catwoman. Val Kilmer was the only one missing. Jim might be Val, Kate thought to herself. Young, excitable, yet a bit brooding also, she saw, now that his strength had left him. David, her choice for the next round, was steadily swelling. Silently Kate vowed to herself that she’d kill Rod if she had to to keep the old man from having the boy up his arse. An apparition entered. As suddenly as a ghost might have appeared, a blonde, 13-year-old nymph entered into the room. Immediately she stole the men’s attention completely away. Her hair was long but pinned neatly up in a loose bun at the back of her head. Her face was Elven, a fairy from Limerick come to taunt the men. She had eyes with long lashes, blue eyes, blue as the sky on an Irish summer day. Her lips were beestung, like a model’s, poutier even than Cindy’s. She had small cheeks and a thin neck and fragile, bone-white shoulders. Around them was cast a soft shimmering robe. It was completely transparent, showing her slim, frail body inside. Yet the robe, bewitchingly, became opaque where more than one layer of fabric collected. Between the girl’s thighs the fabric fell, and in layering itself upon itself it managed to obscure the view of her delta. Her bosoms could be plainly seen, high and firm and round. And her dimpled navel also. But just where the men’s eyes hoped to see most, they saw nothing. Just the softly layered fabric of the nymph’s flowing robe where it spilled between her legs. The girl’s thighs were bare. Her robe had been cleverly slitted up both her legs so that her legs, in walking, protruded from the slits, forcing the long robe to layer itself between her bared thighs. She was naked in her robe, wearing nothing but gold open-toed slippers upon her small feet. Her hands were small, bare, and her arms were bare up to her shoulders where the robe, quite uselessly, covered but did not obscure them. In her fingers, quite tentatively, Kate thought, the blonde nymph held a sponge. Kate saw at once it was for scrubbing the floor and the furniture, for Beth fetched a pail, perhaps one filled outside the door by the girl, and struggled inside with it. Beth was careful not to spill any of the pail’s water upon the floor. Kate saw suds floating in the pail. Their tops billowed above its rim. “Men, ladies, this is my neighbor Sherry,” Marie said casually. Still she diddled in Nancy’s slit, though Nancy herself now had lowered her face to gaze at the girl with the sponge. “She’s a virgin,” Marie said. “And she’ll be staying that way tonight, gentlemen, I’m afraid. But you may certainly watch her as she scrubs the dungeon for us. Any excitement she brings you, though, will have to be spent in one of us ladies, not in her.” “W-Why?” Mike, the sullen one, asked, rising up from the floor and propping himself up with his hands behind his bare rump as he remained sitting. “Because, dear boy, I insist,” Marie answered. She seemed delighted to have provoked the men in a way they could not assuage. Their pricks, depleted still, were unable to salute the girl as they wished. But they made sure their legs were apart and they showed her their condition, however feeble it was, in hopes of inspiring her. Sherry, though, kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. She looked at no one, seemingly contemplating some fixed point inside herself. Deliberately she gulped and Kate realized she was bashful and yet proud. Had she been seen in this way before, all naked, showing her fresh nudity to men and women? Kate guessed she had not. The girl was on a special journey, one that was her own private coming out, in a game room where nude male and female combatants were assembled, waiting to start a second round at love. the look by Will Dockery Words spoken, actions shown, the look. Where are you, sister? Still a believer? Keep the homefires burning, I watch for errant knights. Repay the debt in kind, after three weeks it still blows my mind. The images from that night, still leave me sad and breathless. No harm really came of it, though nothing is the same, except my heart, broken like never before. Start up a new one, fresh, cold call, let the words snap up against the wall. Or down onto the table, in this Zen bar psychic babel, it happens, babe. Don't know where this is going, could I look at reality, and understand my paranoia? I feel fine in this strange new world. This summer world, I feel the burn. I might thrive on it, in my own way. When the clouds are so rapid they bring in a storm, I admire the slow moving liquid. Back down onto the highway, here late at night, not even wondering, just accepting what happens, it happens, babe. Events crossed up here and played out, the timing of these different panics, what was here or was it over there. Mystery of the whole sequence, I have to talk in code again, a mystery through the dreamscape, that must be reality. Florida is burning, ashes are turning, and all I can see is fire. The mornings grey up, and the nights darken down, at this stage of it all is smoke, our kingdom has crumbled into dust. What am I, locked into this crushed time plane? Faded love a memory in my brain. It happens, babe. AND IN THE END... A WOMAN’S POINT OF VIEW “I didn’t immediately get it but it immediately struck me as offensive.” - from the column, “Queenie and Alphonse,” in the Columbus, Georgia newspaper “Playgrounds”. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen. Find the box labelled “Main Archive”. Change “Main Archive” to “Complete Archive”. Next, do you see a blank box labelled “Search for:” ? Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen that has “Search for” written above it. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers and places to INVEST: By e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com Via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ - INVEST in NAMBLA! Web: http://www.nambla.org -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF 395 EMISSION “Fuck you, you goddam pervert!” (see? even he is using half my brand name! - h.j.) -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----