Message-ID: <16686eli$9810200538@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 411 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: <362BB5D8.7BBD@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- LEONARDO: THE INSIDE STORY! by holy joe As you know, many actors have a “stage name” that is different from their real name. Such is the case with Titanic’s Leonardo DiCaprio. When he was born, Leonardo’s mother, who had wanted a girl, took one look at him and said, “You’re a dope.” She wanted to name him Dope. But Leonardo’s father said, “Honey, we can’t name him Dope. Let’s name him Leonardope.” And so that was his name, Leonardope DiCaprio. When he grew up, Leonardope moved to Hollywood. He became an actor. His agent said his name was too long, however, and suggested shortening it. He had Leonardope change his name to Leonardope Di. Unfortunately people confused Leonardope Di with Princess Di. The Queen even called him once, and asked him if he was being a dutiful wife to Prince Charles. (She didn’t want her son to wind up like Clinton.) So Leonardope changed his name again. He went back to using his old last name, and shortened his first name instead. He became Leonardo DiCaprio. Admittedly, it’s not as short and sweet a name as holy joe, but it did get him a job on the Titanic. Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY NAKED girls and more at: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Issue No. 411 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Passion’s Playpen Chapter Nine “You were practically a topless dancer in my club tonight,” Ben told her. “I could lose my license for having that kind of entertainment in my club. This is a conservative town.” “Yes,” Kate said quietly. She knew it was. It bored the Hell out of her. “I told you to get your shorts off,” Ben told her. His voice sounded severe. Kate wriggled them down a little, until all of her bush showed. Still she wondered if she shouldn’t try to escape this man. WHACK! The cane came down solidly on the bed. “Get them completely off!” Ben growled at her. “I have to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl in my club. Do you want extra swats?” “N-No,” Kate gulped. She had thought the bed was about to lose all its stuffing the way Ben had brought the cane down on it. Quickly she yanked her shorts down the rest of the way, to her knees, and then she sat back bare-bottomed on the coverlet of the bed and pulled them down her calves to her feet. The woman, still nameless, came to the bedside and leaned in over it and took hold of Kate’s shorts and removed them completely from her. She folded them and put them in a dresser drawer. The dresser had phials of lubricant and condoms on top of it. It sat next to the wall. Dangling above the dresser, hung up on the wall, were the whips and rattans and other implements, from which Ben had chosen to take down the cane. “Bend over. Show me your ass. You seem to enjoy wriggling it around a lot,” Ben said to Kate. She looked at him and entertained a defiant air on her face for a moment. Then, seeing he could be even more steely eyed than she, Kate got on all fours on the bed again. “God, what an ass!” Ben said. “I knew you had a sassy girlish tush but It’s truly a work of art!” He walked up close to the bed and stared at her behind. Kate bent her head down into the pillow at the head of the bed and let his gaze linger over her heinie. “Have you ever had anyone punish it before?” he asked finally. Kate prayed her nose wouldn’t grow and answered, “No.” She sensed something grow in him, as he stood behind her. “I’ll try not to hit you too hard,” he said. But she sensed in his rough voice that he might have difficulty restraining himself. Kate glanced at the woman. She stood a little behind Ben with her eyes lowered and her hands folded in front of her. They rested on her pussy. She had a tight dress on and her hair had obviously been elaborately prepared at a beauty salon for her evening’s work. She had lovely brown hair that was curled and coiffed and piled up in abundance on top of her head, with an excess that hung loosely in curls round her face and down to the collar of her dress. It was a choker dress, with a built in choker that wrapped her neck as tightly as it wrapped her hips. It was sleeveless but she wore opera length gloves on her arms to cover them. Her bust was substantial but not enormous. She had long black boots that covered her legs, which would have otherwise been bare for her dress was very short. Still, despite the length of her boots her thighs showed their white tops, between the place where the boots ended and her skirt stopped. Kate felt that if the woman threw her hips forward her skirt would rise enough to show her crotch. But, of course, the woman stood meekly, waiting for any instructions Ben might have for her. Kate was glad the woman was not staring at her bare bottom. The woman had met her and Ben at the door with lowered eyes and she had been quiescent throughout, showing no emotion. Kate didn’t like having her present but she realized it was necessary. Her master, Ben, couldn’t be expected to assist her in all her little wants and troubles. The woman was there to attend to Kate’s needs, and to heed Ben’s orders. Kate felt confident. She knew the cane would hurt but she wanted to be hurt a little, to feel her bottom glowing with stings delivered by her master. Then the quiet slavewoman he owned would pamper her afterward, perhaps cuddling her, certainly rubbing salve and ointment into her bottom so it could be saved and healed and used again by her master. And, Kate knew, when her ass was streaked and red Ben would mount her from behind and shove himself into her, taking her in whichever hole pleased him, and she would feel very owned and complete with him shafting himself so deeply into her. Already Kate could see that he was quite big in his pants and she wanted to ask him to take himself out, so she could see what awaited her. But she was afraid she might sound like a slut asking, so instead she lifted her hand to her face and balled it into a fist and bit it. “Are you frightened?” Ben asked. “Wouldn’t you be?” Kate replied. But, biting her fist and showing her pearl-white teeth as she did, Kate knew she was only frightened of herself. Why did she want so to be a slave? To be used by a man and penetrated by him? Shouldn’t she want a nice boy her own age? This man had lines on his face. Yet, as he stared at her, his eyes growing colder, she knew why she wanted him. Because he would be sweeter to her, and tougher on her as well. A college boy might blanch at striking her bottom with a cane, if he even owned one. But Ben wouldn’t. Yet, after he’d punished her, she was sure he would see that she was exquisitely pampered. Kate felt her legs trembling at the succor she’d be given after her beating. She guessed a penthouse like this had hot baths and steam rooms and massage tables. Ben’s servant would be utterly selfless in nursing her back to health. For every stroke of the cane she suffered she would be given numerous kisses and blandishments. Ben might even shower her with gifts. Rings, diamonds, all was possible with a man of wealth like him. Ben eyed Kate’s tushy. It was round and high and had a cleft splitting the twin creamy cheeks that made his penis strain in his pants. Kate’s face was cherubic and she looked so very young for her age, more like a high school girl or even, if one were willing to let the perversion enter one’s mind, a well-endowed eighth-grade girl in junior high. Her body was small but her breasts hung down like ripe fruit, big and swollen, perfect udders for a female cow in a barn full of human girls made to perform like animals. For, he knew, that’s where she was headed. He had lied to her in the car and he hated himself for it. He was deeply in debt and only by finding girls like Kate and selling them could he hope to escape. An Arab trader was offering substantial sums for white females. But they had to be trained. The Arab expected each girl to be wise in all matters sexual, and to be willing to submit to whatever tortures might take his fancy. He was building an English manor home in the Arabian desert, and when it was complete he wished to stock the home and its grounds with young women. Ben made a note to himself to make sure Kate was well made-up before presenting her to the Sultan. He might balk if she looked too young. But he was sure once the Sultan had paid for her he’d find himself pleased, provided she was trained and completely broken in and didn’t offer him any resistance. Ben knew he should have found an older female at the nightclub and wondered, in a moment of uncertainty, if he shouldn’t take Kate back and find someone else. She was too young! his conscience admonished him. The Sultan would be displeased and refuse to buy her, or pay for her and then want his money back when Kate was stripped of her makeup. Yet Ben knew he himself liked the youngest girls best. And Kate had been so daring and sexy. He hadn’t been able to resist taking her. Now she was staring up at him from the bed, watching him flex his long cane and pass it over his open palm. He knew that because of her wonderful breasts she’d be put to work in the Sultan’s barn. The Sultan kept tall leggy models, with their traditionally small chests, for his leisure and entertainment inside his quarters. But with a new manor home, complete with a barn, the Sultan had told Ben that he wanted girls to be cows. He desired big-breasted girls, girls he could have his leggy models sit beside, bare-bottomed on little wooden stools, and pretend to milk. A female like Kate would kneel in the hay, her head caught and locked in a wooden stock, while the leggy model sat beside her and worked her breasts. Kate would cry out as she felt her breasts handled like objects, mere udders whose only duty would be to espress milk. MAGAZINE REVIEW by holy joe Hustler’s TABOO, Vol. 1, No. 4, $6.99. 96 page, full-color magazine. Glossy, full color cover. Web: http://www.tabookink.com Review: On its cover, TABOO boasts that it contains “The most bizarre filth and kink on any newsstand.” Hustler is indeed the first major, well-known publisher to distribute a bondage magazine to America’s newsstands. However, far from being a magazine focusing on “filth”, TABOO is a magazine that is done in very good taste. This issue’s theme is the corset. The cover features a model who has been in various Playboy Newsstand Special magazines. She has an extremely thin waist. Apparently, TABOO believes this makes her an ideal candidate for modelling corsets. However, in my opinion, a girl’s waist can be too thin as well as too wide. As far as I’m concerned, this model is simply a girl with a waist that’s too narrow. I’m not especially impressed with her. Admittedly, though, a too-narrow waist is more attractive than my tire-sized tummy! Have you ever had the lights go out, unexpectedly? In such a situation you may discover the following: Your flashlight has dead batteries. You have a candle, and a match, but no place to put the candle once it’s been lit. TABOO shows you what to do. In addition to cooking, cleaning, and keeping you away from Monica Lewinsky, a good wife can also serve as a candle holder! In the pictorial “Burning Flesh”, various (wonderfully young) girls show you where to put your lit candle: into their mouth, their cunt, between their toes, and into their bottom! My favorite picture in this pictorial features a nervous-looking brunette, clad only in long black stockings and pumps, on her hands and knees. She has a lit candle in her ass. One can almost hear the chuckle of guys sitting around playing cards: “Lucky for us your wife was home when the lights went out,” one guy says to another. “Yep. I knew she was good for something,” her husband replies. (Don’t worry. When they need more beer I’m sure they’ll let her get up!) Of course, the best pictorial in this issue is “Amanda and Flower: Lessons Learned the Hard Way”. Flower is a young, submissive brunette. Amanda is her very blonde, very young mistress. Watch with delight as Amanda spanks Flower, uses Flower’s tongue as a shoe-shine rag, and puts nipple clamps on her! The best photo in this set, for an ass-man like me, shows little Flower with her face jammed into her mistress’ bottom. The nice thing about the “Amanda and Flower” pictorial is that there is lots of kissing between the girls. It’s always nice to see kissing, it shows that the dominant truly loves her submissive, and that the submissive loves her mistress. Another fine thing about this pictorial is that it takes place in an expensive mansion. Even as you see these two girls doing such nasty things, you are able to admire a crystal chandelier, ancient hardwood furniture, and well-polished silver plate. I didn’t find this issue quite as exciting as previous issues, but it is still the most arousing magazine I get. Eating Rainbows For Breakfast by Will Dockery Fireworks shook the street, shook Broadway, shook Shadowville. Nirvana eyeballs, it's the eyes that always capture my heart. She's still so sweet in her own dark little way. He stands with her as she shows him her harmonic fractal insect. He proceeds rightly And with purpose. and I think of you, sweet lady, who has come into my life and disappeared. >From another level, up a step, as if you knew what you did. Fireworks shook the street, shook Broadway, shook Shadowville. He's black. That tells me something. He built castles made of sand, sees rainbows at night, and I think of her when the sand slips under your toes. As I sit out this night, with you, in the first place I ever went with her. Yeah, darlin', a bright little planet that winks at me, keep on smiling as the times just keep on changin'. And change is good, change can be sweet. Embattled once again, remembering they drove her out too, her words rattle, I smell frying peaches, and she was cute. Fireworks shook the streets, shook Broadway, shook Shadowville. AND IN THE END... THE PERFECT WIFE “Few appreciated the central significance of the new princess; she was young and unformed, with enormous potential for growth.” - Newsweek, September 15, 1997, pg. 37 (on Princess Diana). (Hence, Prince Charles should marry an 8-year-old girl next! - h.j.) -------------------------- 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 or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over a decade, it’s Alessandra’s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY 10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102. Phone: 1-212-807-8578; 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. -Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan - Think different. http://www.apple.com -END OF 411 EMISSION This month in Cosmopolitan: “What Turns Men On: stick a candle in your ass.” -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----