Message-ID: <15030eli$9809050603@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 399 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: <35F075A4.1CFE@earthlink.net> *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* New Girls! Young! Nude! MATERNITY WARD UPDATE All Virgins -- Guaranteed! Subscribe for one year for only: $19.95 ! *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* (damn hackers. - h.j.) Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 399 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Passion’s Playpen Chapter Six With John and Melinda settled on either side of her within the warm car, Kate was driven off. Melinda, who’d been so considerate of her walking out of the house, now inquired between Kate’s legs with her nearest hand. She tugged absently at Kate’s pubic hair and lightly stroked Kate’s lovelips. “Don’t close yourself,” Melinda told Kate when the girl tried to press her thighs together. Kate opened her legs. Melinda gave Kate’s sex a pinch to remind her of the command. Kate winced but said nothing. The woman explored her lovelips as if she were a turkey being felt before being stuffed. They drove from the city out into the country. Trees enshrouded their car on both sides. Kate glanced at John’s crotch and saw he had a distinct swelling there. She looked back at the approaching, enclosing trees. They surrounded the car as John raced it down a vacant country lane. He seemed an excellent driver. Kate wondered if, nonetheless, she needed a seatbelt. She didn’t want to have a mistake on his part send her pitching out through the front window. Melinda, sensing the need for a binding of a different sort, drew a black blindfold out of the glove compartment. Kate saw it and gasped. She liked their company, the mysteriousness of it, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to play sexual games with them. She felt tired from her copulating in the game room. “You mustn’t see where you’re going,” Melinda said to Kate. Kate watched fearfully as the woman, taller and stronger than herself, placed the blindfold quickly over Kate’s eyes. Kate lifted her hands and emitted a whimper of protest but she was blinded before she could do anything about it. “Put your arms behind you, dear. You’ll have little need for them where we’re going. I’ll spoon feed you when you need nourishment, and I’ll wash you, and even wipe you after your potty,” Melinda whispered in Kate’s ear. As she did so she seized both of Kate’s wrists quite firmly. She drew the girl’s hands roughly behind Kate’s back. Kate mewled in protest as she felt her arms wrenched back behind herself. She had not put her arms through the sleeves of her cloak, preferring to let it drape her. Now she wished she’d been more attentive to the cloak, for inside it she was just a bare body, her arms next to her, and Melinda had little trouble yanking Kate’s arms behind herself. Melinda got both Kate’s wrists in a single hand, Melinda’s hand, which held them like a vise. The woman’s fingers were slender and elegant but she had a grip of steel. Kate heard a jangling of handcuffs. She guessed they’d been taken from the glove compartment, same as the blindfold. She howled as she felt Melinda pin them to her wrists. Yet, in the end, Kate realized, she had not struggled nearly as much as she might have. She’d even waited a moment, patiently, as Melinda let go of her wrists, in an inexpert moment, and worked to get the cuffs properly on her. “Sit up,” Melinda said to Kate. The blonde had been forced to bend forward as Melinda cuffed her. Kate straightened herself. She felt the cape draping her uselessly, leaving her bosoms sticking out quite nakedly in front of her. Now she had no way to draw the cape closed over her front. Melinda pinched one’s of Kate’s nipples. Kate winced and let out a little cry. Both her teats offered their tips at full extension. Kate felt terribly excited and had a sudden desire to pee on the seat of John’s car. She pressed her thighs together. Melinda slapped them and made her separate them again. Kate wriggled her ass and bit her lip. “You are just bosoms now,” Melinda told Kate. “And a cunt.” She stroked Kate’s offered nipples and then pinched the other one to make it hurt like the first. Kate howled, softly, afraid she might disturb John. She felt Melinda’s hand stroke her belly and then delve again between her open legs. Melinda laughed. “How you squirm! Do you have to pee again?” Melinda asked Kate. “We’ll be there soon. Don’t make John stop to let you go in the woods! It’s too chilly outside for that.” Kate nodded. Despite the blindfold, despite the handcuffs, despite Melinda’s intrusive, pinching fingers, she nodded obediently. “Here, I’ll hold your sex for you,” Melinda told Kate. “I’ll squeeze my hand against your little muffin just like you used to do when you were a girl. Don’t pee on my hand. We’ll be there soon, dear one!” Kate twisted her head about. She felt Melinda’s hand cup her muff and palpate itself against her slit. She wanted to pee, yet she tightened her belly and hoped to save herself til they got to John’s. She looked over at him but, concealed in her blindfold, she saw nothing. Chapter Seven Kate felt the car stop some time later. She was squirming in her seat. She could barely hold in her pee. She sat with puffed cheeks, exhaling in little puffs, scared that she would urinate on John’s hand-tooled leather seat. She could think of little else. Her fears were submerged in a desire to relieve her bladder. She was grateful for Miriam, who kept her hand pressed close to Kate’s muff. She squeezed Kate’s cuntlips together in a childish, but so far effective, attempt to keep her from peeing. John escorted the blindfolded Kate from the car as grandly as he’d put her into his car. He held her arm and carefully helped her place her feet on his asphalt driveway as if she were the Queen of Sheba and he merely a slave. In fact, as Kate was well aware, feeling her pee about to burst from her, she was John’s slave. She gained the ground and immediately chafed in his hands, eager to run into his house and piss. She hoped they were at his house. She had no way of knowing, but they’d promised her a proper bathroom when they arrived. For a moment she thought, in insane desperation, that they might be at a posh restaurant, a private one where no one would mind if a girl were brought in all stained with cum from sex play. Yet, she decided, such a bizarre fantasy was just a product of her dips into alt.sex.stories on boring school nights. She’d been reading too much Missy, she assured herself. John and Melinda did not remove her blindfold. They led her into the home they shared in such a manner that she would be unable to identify it, seeing only the rooms, never the outside. Kate blushed as she felt cool air wash over her heated body. The cape round her shoulders was left open. It trailed behind her in the night wind, letting the air stroke even her bottom, making it chilly. Her hair was a wreck but the wind lifted her long blonde locks and, under the shining moon, it drew them out behind her, making her look like Lothiriel in Tolkien’s Lothlorien. An elven queen, moving unsleeping through the night air, watched by the trees she heard swaying around her. Kate was helped to mount stone porch steps. Both John and Melinda helped her, each taking one of her arms that was handcuffed behind her, guiding her with their hands on her slim upper arms. Kate heard John put a key in the front door. She stood with her bottom cheeks compressed, her thighs pressed tightly together, weaving a little on her feet as she concluded she couldn’t hold herself any longer. Suddenly she felt a wetness running down her legs. She exhaled softly. A wave of relief washed over her. “Good God! She’s peeing on our porch!” Melinda cried to John. They watched her, holding her arms. Kate felt her urine run down the insides of her thighs, despite holding her legs together. Her pee stained the stone and ran down the steps. Melinda used Kate’s cloak to wipe between her legs. “You’ve been very naughty, Kate,” Melinda told her. “Look at you! Semen burbling from your slit, your pee running down your legs. And your hair, beautiful but unkempt, matted with errant shots of men’s sperm. Is this how your mother would expect you to come home from a party?” John laughed. “I forgive you for that, Kate. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt yourself trying to be good for me.” He urged her forward. Kate crossed over the threshold into his house. He didn’t deign to carry her, but she was merely a slave and he had treated her remarkably well so far. She told herself that Melinda would have been jealous if John had carried her in. Kate felt a sense of happiness as the warmth of John’s home replaced the cool outside air. Her goosebumps lessened. She felt herself pad across a deep plush carpet and then, going down what sounded like a hall, she was stopped and she heard John open a door. A smell of bare earth met her nostrils. Kate felt herself pushed forward and she balked. Her feet met creaking steps and she climbed resistantly, unsteadily down a flight of raw wooden steps. She felt a sense of danger. Yet, with her bosoms pushing out before her, their nipples eager and stiff, with her cunt wettening a little even as she descended, Kate knew she was going to be placed into whatever John had prepared for her. She hoped he was compassionate for her. She was just a young college girl, playing games, feeding in oats she knew she should never touch. Kate’s blindfold was removed by Melinda. Kate opened her eyes and stood for a moment completely rigid, stiff as her nipples were. She was in an earthen cellar. A wooden floor covered it but the walls were bare and had a deep fertile smell to them. Kate saw not far from herself a collection of pillows arranged on the floor. They were covered with silk pillowcases and looked newly washed. Beside them, but at a little distance to keep them from getting wet, was a water pump. It was made of brass and looked newly re-built, as if it had replaced a much older model. Next to the pump, to receive its libations, was an old battered tin washtub. It looked clean but it seemed like it might be for washing a dog in, or a cat, yet Kate noticed it was big enough for a girl to fit into. A clean layer of plastic lay under it to keep the wooden floor from getting soaked. Next to the tub was a wooden post. Kate flinched as she saw chains hanging from the post. They were neatly looped around a crosspiece that stuck out, penis like, to hold them aloft. Kate saw that manacles were attached to the post, separate from the chains, bolted like handcuffs to the front of the post. Kate shivered. It was cool in the cellar. Deeper in the gloom she saw unlicensed casks of whiskey and, surrounding them, sacks of pot. She knew a little Spanish and she read the words printed neatly on the burlap sacks. “Golden Weed,” they said. Along the top of several bags were much smaller bags, carefully taped shut and white in color. “Flour,” each bag proclaimed, but Kate guessed it wasn’t flower they held inside them. It was a small fortune in heroin or cocaine. “You’ll be kept downstairs in the storage room for awhile,” Melinda told Kate. John held Kate as Melinda lit a number of tall tapering candles near the cushions. Kate saw the candlelight sparkle upon a tea tray lying in the cushions. It held a small silver vase of fresh cut flowers and a silver pot of tea, plus blueberry bagels, fresh from the oven, and slices of ham and munster cheese. The flowers in the vase were roses and peonies. “After your bath you may eat,” Melinda said to Kate. John pushed her forward toward the collection of cushions. Kate saw that despite the crudeness of the tin tub there was a small collection of perfume flasks and an atomizer and some fragrant fresh soap next to it, plus a bottle of strawberry Suave shampoo. “Get in the tub,” John told Kate. She didn’t respond. She merely stared down at it, standing over it now, an empty old tin tub that hardly matched the nice bath Marie had always bathed her in. John pulled her cloak off and reached into his pocket. Kate heard him draw out his keys and he unlocked her handcuffs. Melinda, to Kate’s surprise, removed her dress. She worked quickly and in just a few moments she was completely naked, just like Kate, but with her hair much better kempt than Kate’s was. She reached back into the bun of her hair behind her head and undid it. It fell down along her face and over her shoulders. Kate stared at Melinda. The brunette had a body like a model. Her hips were slim and her legs long and the only thing that must have kept her from being one was the size of her breasts. They were quite pronounced and they presented themselves quite firmly, lofting up like twin balloons on her chest, or twin sno cones, topped by cherries, for Kate saw that Melinda had taken care to tan herself in such a way that her breasts, and her pubic region, were kept perfectly white. There were no marks on her anywhere, despite her life with John and his bad reputation. Kate felt a little jealous of Melinda and thought, as the woman gazed casually at her, that the feeling was mutual. Both of them were very pretty and John, still suavely dressed, had obviously to choose at some point which of their pretty nests he wanted to stick himself into. Kate heard a scuffling on the stairs and, startled, turned her head. John held her firmly. As Kate looked behind herself she rubbed her wrists, for the handcuffs had been a little too tight for her. “Ma’am? Sir? Will you be wanting anything else?” Kate heard a high-pitched, proper British accent ask. “Bring the strap. Our guest may prove unruly,” Melinda said casually, brushing her hair back from her face as she spoke. Kate shivered and felt her bottomcheeks tense. John cupped her bare heinie with his broad calloused palm and made her step into the tub. ZINE REVIEWS by holy joe Exotica, August 1998, $1.95. 8 1/2” x 11” magazine, 46 pages with a slick, full color cover. X Publishing, Inc., 625 SW 10th Avenue, Suite 324B, Portland, OR 97205. E-mail: xmag@teleport.com Web: http://www.xmag.com Review: This is billed as the “Sex, Bubblegum and Rock-N-Roll” issue. And what, indeed, could be a better reinterpretation of that scandalous term from the 1960’s? Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll pale before the “child molester”. In addition to having a catchy theme, this issue of Exotica has a memorable cover. On the cover are two girls. They’re both naked. One girl is chewing Bubble Yum bubble gum and blowing a bubble. The other girl, feeling deprived, is trying to steal it from her-- with her tongue! In his editorial, publisher Frank Faillace worries about his cover. He writes: “After eight hours of staring at [it] on a computer screen you tend to lose objectivity about how it looks and start praying that you haven’t made a horrible mistake that everyone is going to make fun of.” (page 3). Well, Frank, I’m afraid you blew it. All us guys at FUCK DECENCY really cracked up when we saw your cover. I mean, look at those two girls. They’re both over 18! Everyone knows that the girls who really like bubble gum are 8-year-olds. As my friend Perply said, when he finally stopped laughing: “What’s Frank doing with two 18-year-olds? You’d think he’d have known to put naked 8-year-olds on his cover!” Despite this obvious oversight, this is a nice issue. Its lead article is a review, and mini-history, of the film Lolita. The article is actually fairly enlightened on the subject of so-called “child molestation”. It points out that “many older men not only want to be with a younger woman, but a teenager.” (page 28). And some men even prefer “a pre-pub girl of 12 or 13.” (Ibid.) If you’re still ‘unsaved’, as my friend Perply puts it, and like adult women, don’t worry! This magazine is filled with ads for strip clubs in Portland, Oregon. All of them feature a nude, or nearly nude woman. Perhaps the best one is for “Palace of Pleasure”. It shows a female from behind. Her long, golden hair is tumbling all the way down to her bottom. It’s bare, but framed by a pink garter belt and stockings, with a g-string wedged (deep) in her ass crack. She’s got high heels on, as if she’s in a fancy bedroom. But, in fact, she’s standing with her face against a brick wall! Is she in a dungeon, with her master about to tear her pretty lingerie with a whip? I guess you’ll have to visit the “Palace” yourself to find out! (I’d go myself, but I have a date at the playground.) AND IN THE END... WHY WAIT TILL 18? “Seven has traditionally been considered the age of reason.” - TIME, August 24, 1998, pg. 65. -------------------------- 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 “Power Search” ? Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen that has “Power Search” written next to it. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: David Hamilton’s Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - NAKED girls, under 18! http://www.AlessandraSmile.com - JOIN NAMBLA Web: http://www.nambla.org -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF 399 EMISSION NEW GIRLS EVERY DAY in Maternity Ward Update! -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----