Message-ID: <7027eli$9801051728@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 327 NEW! Dungeon of Desire (NND) g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller39@IDT.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: <34B05CC9.3B23@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- “I climb to the very top of the castle where once there was a tower and there in full view of Ireland I interfere with myself and spurt all over Carrigogunnell and fields beyond” - Frank McCourt, Angela’s Ashes, pg. 299. (not me, him. - h.j.) Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: Crab the dog Issue No. 327 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Nudie Nursery Chapter Five Jasmine had been right. When I got home, when I met my friends, I couldn’t help myself. I had to show them my ass! I turned round and bent over and hiked down my tight, ass-clinging jeans. And they saw it. Two strong welts ridged across my bottom. They ran their fingers over my welts and gasped at my bravery. “I want more,” I told them, my head down, my hair falling in streaming strands to the floor, the cones of my breasts heavy in my sweater. I wiggled my bottom and felt my cheeks tingle. They were plump, inviting. “Get my camera off my night table and take a picture of my ass! I want to send it to that man Jasmine told me about.” My girlfriends complied. They took a photograph, not of my face but just of my ass. I sealed it in a pink envelope and sent it to the P.O. Box of the man on the business card. I received no reply. Jasmine had warned me that I wouldn’t. Finally, drawing up all my courage, making the call from my bedroom, alone, in the middle of the night, I spoke to him. I hugged my teddy bear as I spoke to him. A woman answered, but she put me on the line with him as soon as I asked for him by his special name. “Sauron,” he wished to be called. I knew of the character. Sauron controlled little hobbits in the Lord of the Rings and made them do his bidding. If he caught them. If they came to him and let him catch them. Hobbits, and elves too, and fairies, perhaps, though I’d never finished the book. It was too long. Was this real Sauron too long? I bought a whip. He told me on the phone where to buy it. I presented the whip at the counter and the clerk looked at me with knowing eyes. She rung me up and I left, blushing, holding the whip in an equestrian shopping bag close to my chest. I caught a ride with a girlfriend that afternoon. She told my mom I was going camping with her girl scout troop. But instead, deep in the canyons outside L.A., finding his house on a peak at the top of a canyon that gave a beautiful view of the city, she let me out. I turned and waved goodbye to her as she sped off in her Mustang. She didn’t want to leave me. But I made her, and she complied at last, holding my hand, begging me to be careful and to call her as soon as I could. I promised I would. With fearful steps I approached his house. A woman, working in the garden, greeted me. She was his housekeeper. I recognized her voice from the phone. “Yes, come right in, dear. He’s expecting you,” she told me. As soon as we were inside she told me to take off my clothes. I shivered. I hesitated. “You have the whip? Good,” she said, taking my shopping bag, opening it, looking inside. “Undress, dear. Everything.” “Even my panties?” I asked, unbuttoning my jeans. I savored the words. I was scared out of my wits but, somehow, I found pleasure in asking for mercy and being refused. “Yes, of course, darling. Get them right off,” she replied. He appeared in the doorway. He was big and strong and his hair was dark and he had skipped shaving for several days. I stared. He stared back. Slowly, our eyes still gripped by one another, I slipped out of my clothes. When I was bare and naked and left in only my shoes and my earrings, his housekeeper took my hand. She presented me to him. Standing with my nipples like thorns, poking up at him, held aloft by my young, uptilted breasts, I gazed at him and bit my lip. I let his eyes move over my face, then down, knowing what he was looking at. Freely he admired my breasts, letting me blush as he gazed at them; then his eyes trailed down over my softly breathing belly to my bush. He put his thumbs to my thighs and I yelped as he rudely yanked my legs apart. I almost lost my balance. His housekeeper grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling. The strange man’s thumbs intruded into my cunny. I felt helpless before him. My breath rushed in and out of my chest, quick, fearful, as he probed me. “Yes, you are excited, aren’t you?” he asked me. He sought my spot and brushed a thumb over it. He had callouses on his hands. He treated me roughly, not asking my name or showing me any emotion, simply grabbing my cunt and opening it. “I--” There was nothing I could say. I knew he would be uncompromising with me. I felt a sudden panic. The housekeeper slapped my bottom. He kept one hand on my cunny but put the other beneath my chin and lifted it. He kissed my lips. “You will do well here,” he told me. “We will teach you what you need to know.” “I don’t need to know anything,” I begged. But he didn’t listen. He picked me up in his arms and I kicked and screamed as he carried me bodily through his house. His shirt was made from hemp and it felt demanding against my skin, a rough fabric, not smooth and soft like everything was at Jasmine’s, but manly and rough. I was taken outside to the porch on their backyard. A blanket had been thrown down on the concrete and I saw, to my utter shock, a dog food bowl on the porch with my name on it. “Kelly,” it proclaimed, and beside it was a dish with fresh water. “Such a sweet pet. Thank you for buying me a little pet,” the housekeeper said to my master. “She’s a stray, I think,” my master replied. “Yes, a stray. But we will teach her obedience,” the woman replied. As the sun set into the distant sea, sinking slowly, the Pacific swallowing it up as if it were a red plum, they began to teach me tricks. THE END ---------------------------------------------------------------- For more great sex stories, surf to: http://www.dejanews.com/ Use this screen name to search: somogy1@hotmail.com Remember, do a “Complete” search for sex stories! ---------------------------------------------------------------- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Dungeon of Desire Chapter One Jasmine had told me to meet him. Or had she ordered me? I liked to think she’d ordered me, now that I reflected upon it. Yes, she’d ordered me. I’d had no choice. But of course I’d had, hadn’t I? I didn’t anymore. She’d told me he’d be cruel with me. Much, much crueler than anything I’d ever experienced before. I’d played with rabbits up ‘til now, she’d assured me. And she’d ordered me. Yes. With my nipples offered, my face pale and my lips parted in wonderment, I let myself be led into his domain. It had been a workroom once, a place for saws and hammers and chisels. But it had evolved. The old owner had died and Master had moved in. The pinup calendar had been replaced with a real woman. I tossed my hair as he confronted me. I tried to look brave. Inside, my tummy was melting with passion and terror. I tried to stick out my belly to look more childish, to win his compassion. But I was too thin. My ribs lined my sides. My hips were slim, curving out just enough to justify my 16th birthday, but no more. My legs were sexy Barbi legs, long and sleek and tapering deftly inward to where my ankles met my stiff, confining heels. I stumbled. His housekeeper caught my arm. In my stumbling my bosoms, big as melons, wiggled. They teased him with the stiffness of my nipples. MAGAZINE REVIEWS by holy joe Playboy’s Book of Lingerie, January/February 1998, $6.95. Web: http://www.playboy.com Review: In the 1980’s it was customary to do the following: 1. Grab hold of a guy. 2. Define him as a “pervert” (pedophile, child molester, sexual harasser, rapist, etc.) 3. Incarcerate him. and, finally, in the style of the Inquisition, to 4. Pry into his mind. This will not be necessary in my case. All that prying into mens’ minds costs a lot of money. As a male, I may be a “suspicious person” (and “stranger” and “suspect”) but I’m still worried about our government’s deficit. I feel it is my patriotic duty to publish FUCK DECENCY. If holy joe ever winds up in the clink, they can just download my magazine, instead of shelling out lots of money for fancy psychiatrists. Time and again, however, publishing my little zine, I’ve come across this amazing fact: my mind is the mind of the American male. Consider this issue of Playboy’s Book of Lingerie. It’s called the “Readers’ Choice Top 20 Supermodels.” I had nothing to do with putting this magazine together. There was a vote taken, and I didn’t even vote. (Typical American, eh?) However, despite having nothing to do with this magazine, every one of my favorite girls is featured in it. They are even featured in the order that I would list them, if I were editing the magazine. First up is Tiffany Taylor. There is no question that she is the prettiest new Playboy girl of the year. She has a soft chin, a small nose, full lips, and nice large eyes. She has lovely long hair. Her body is perfect: large, ripe breasts, a small waist, flat tummy, and long legs. She looks a little older now than she did when she first appeared in Playboy’s College Girls last spring (alas!) but she is still the most perfectly formed girl in the ‘Playboy Stable’ this year. (Any Playboy models who disagree with that assessment are free to stop by my dumpster for a personal re-evaluation!) In her pictorial in this issue, Tiffany wanders along a beach in rags, looking like a sexy version of ‘the little matchstick girl’. What a delight to look at her! I do wish, however, that she was doing something racier than just staring out to sea. Why not dig up some buried treasure? Perhaps a chest full of ancient dildoes, vibrators, and cans of whipped cream! Following close on the heels of Tiffany is Shae Marks. Unfortunately, Shae looks a lot older now than when she appeared in Playboy several years back as a Playmate of the Month. Here’s some advice for the girls at Playboy: a) don’t gain weight. b) don’t lose weight, and c) for God’s sake, don’t get older! Shae poses in a weird sort of bondage uniform, that looks like it’s made out of duct tape. Unfortunately, it’s not very erotic to look at. In my opinion, it lacks authenticity. If you’re going to go for a bondage look, Shae, buy a *real* bondage costume and put that on. This is sort of a half-assed costume, in my opinion. (Though I do like seeing her tits hanging out of it, and wondering what it felt like wedged up between her legs!) Following Shae is Sung Hi Lee. God, what a sexy pictorial... and a sexy girl too! Sung called me and told me what this pictorial is about: “I was hanging around with James Bond. We were staying in a hotel together. One morning I slipped out of bed early for a quick swim in the hotel pool. I wore my best yellow lingerie, since I didn’t have my bikini with me. I figured nobody would see me. Plus, it was a very elegant hotel, and the help at such places doesn’t mind if a cute girl like me goes swimming in her lingerie, especially during off-hours. “Unfortunately, the help, while not minding seeing me in my lingerie, also didn’t mind taking money from the Mafia. The help told the Mafia I was in the pool. They captured me and took me away to their Mafia headquarters where they ordered me to tell them where they could find James. “That’s me, at the Mafia headquarters, wearing just my yellow panties and bra. They’re trying to get me to tell, but I’m refusing. So they’re making me undress, if I won’t be a good girl and tell them where James is.” The next set of photos of Sung is even sexier. I’ll let you guess what that white stuff is in the glass, that the Mafia dons are forcing her to drink! Now, on to the next pictorial. Ahhhh, what would life be without photos of Jacqueline Marie lowering her panties to show off her bottom? Her photos follow Sung’s. Unfortunately, several things have happened to Jackeline since her appearance in Playboy’s Lingerie Model Search. a) She’s gotten a fat ass. b) She’s pierced her navel. c) She’s cut her darling ‘spoiled brat’ hair, leaving her with ordinary-looking hair. Still, I do enjoy seeing Jacqueline Marie show me her bottom as she takes off her undies. And she has a very nice face, and wonderful bosoms to boot. If you want to know what it would be like to breast-feed from one of her bosoms, just turn to page 27! Alley Baggett is up next. Unfortunately, in addition to getting older, she’s turned her hair all frizzy. She gives us a sexy pictorial, but that frizzy hair really turns me off. She looks like a Black woman who’s a Spanish dancer. Here’s a tip for Playboy’s girls: if you look like a normal, natural American girl, stay that way. Don’t go frizzing your hair and making yourself look like some harlot who dances to foreign tunes. In Alley’s case, despite her Spanish blood, she *was* a very natural-looking, American girl. Not any more. She still manages to be quite sexy in her pictorial, however. Ah, Priscilla Taylor! Her pictorial isn’t very sexy, but she does epitomize the All-American blonde. She admits to being “self-centered” (pg. 38), which is what I guess you are if you’re a walking Barbi doll. (Actually, girls, we men don’t mind, provided you like us and we can afford you.) If you would like to know what it would be like to have a young wife, check out Maria Checa. Her pictorial is next, and it has a wonderful intimacy to it. She shows off her breasts while letting a teddy bear dangle from her fingertips. She kneels on a bed, caressing her (soon to be impregnated?) belly. She turns and pulls up her nightie and shows off her pantied bottom. If that isn’t enough, check out her nipples. They appear to have been painted a little, with something, leaving them their natural color but giving them a lovely soft shine. There’s even a picture of her pulling down the front of her nightie, laughing. Is she saying, as she exposes one of her breasts, “Look, darling! I put some rouge on my tits!” A delightful pictorial. Well, I don’t want to waste any more valuable jack-off time. I think I mentioned all the models in this magazine. However, if I did miss any, please stop by my dumpster and let me know! I don’t believe in leaving anyone out. I know how important it is for an up-and-coming young model to get all the publicity she can. And just think, when I mention you, you can tell all your friends, “I was in a magazine by Hugh Hefner, and one by holy joe too!” an afternoon in Reykjavik by Bohdan Kot the sun will not go down. three days here without any sleep. the time was noon and she slipped into my blue bedroom. i was eating a chocolate bar which she finished. then i undressed and began to lick her perfect pussy. AND IN THE END... “A perfectly romantic night for me would include cool music, candles, silk sheets, scented pillows, mirrors and a video camera.” - some girl who might have gotten left out of my review, pg. 61. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Quick Search”, then type in: roller39@idt.net Press your “return” key. Scroll to the very bottom of the page that appears. Change “Standard” to “Complete” roller39@idt.net is already typed into the window. Click in the window behind the “t” in “.net” Press your “return” key. -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send SASE to: Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - 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. -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 327 EMISSION - “[Playboy Supermodel] seeks man to celebrate all facets of my personality. He will receive home-cooked meals, laughter and lots of passion (Ibid, pg. 47.).” That’s all it takes, feminists! - h.j. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |