Message-ID: <7166eli$9801102336@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 330 Dungeon of Desire NND 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: <34B6AA04.5C2F@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: Baby Tiffany Issue No. 330 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Dungeon of Desire Chapter One My bikini, so delicate I couldn’t get it wet, was already moist with my dew in my crotch. I wondered if I’d start unravelling there. Worse, all the water I’d drunk from the dog’s dish had yet to be allowed to come out. I felt a tremor run through me as Miriam led Katy and I into her ballroom. A dozen guests turned and greeted me with their eyes. All I could do was shorten my steps and hope they didn’t see how I was pressing my thighs together. Sauron, behind me, gave a wicked laugh. He knew I had to go! I prayed that the others didn’t. Fortunately, the other guests were dressed as sexily as I was. The females, that is. The males wore casual clothes like Master’s. As for the girls, some wore vinyl swimsuits. They promised to get hot in the sun, but it was night now. Still, their vinyl tops and bottoms had little zippers on them. The cups of their bras offered zippers for unzipping their nipples. Their panties, though zipped at the moment, could be undone where their nether lips were. I wondered if their crotches were as moist inside those little vinyl swimpouches as mine was. At least, if they had to pee, they could unzip their lips. My labia lips were contained. I felt the wetness of my excitement. I slid my hands along my thighs, hoping for a chance at relief. Most of the girls were young college girls. They had bodies as fetching as mine and no inhibitions, apparently, about decking themselves out in teeny bikinis to show everyone else how terrific they looked. All of us wore bikinis not meant for the pool. Some were cashmere, like mine and Katy’s and Miriam’s. Others were vinyl, their little zippers dangling temptingly from half-covered bosoms and cunnies. Still other girls wore leather, tied up with little string bows where the vinyl bikinis had zippers. I imagined myself being made to kneel and untie, one by one, the frustrating little bows that closed themselves over a strawberry blonde’s pubic hair. With master commanding me, I’d no doubt have to use just my teeth. “Hi!” the strawberry blonde said to me as I stared nervously at her swimsuit. She looked at me unabashedly. Her eyes noticed where mine were on her and she took it as more than I intended. “Is this your first S&M orgy?” she asked, addressing my breasts as if they were me. “Y-Yes,” I replied. My voice trembled and felt my breasts shaking. “I’m sorry,” I added quickly. “I have to pee.” I gulped. I didn’t mean to make the admission but she’d looked like she was about to untie my top. “Oh!” Sharon laughed. I learned her name later, after we’d fucked. “There’s no worry about that! Come over to our pee pool!” She took my hand, something I’d not expected, or wanted, and led me over to a small fountain set near the wall. I tensed. I felt the crowd of people gather behind me. Looking over my shoulder, quickly, afraid and nervous, I saw that perhaps half the dozen or so guests had followed me. The rest continued their conversations. Before me was a small bowl shaped pool made of rock. Within its glassy surface, along one of its curving sides, lay a stone ledge. “Get in, sit down on the ledge, and hang your feet down,” Sharon explained, her hand still in mine. “Then just pee. The water will carry it away. You’re the first of the evening, anyway, so if you’re scared of anything there’s no need to be. The water’s totally pure and natural. There’s no chlorine or anything, so it won’t sting you. It’s the same as your bath water. Haven’t you ever peed in the bath tub?” she laughed. I saw from her brimming eyes that she’d done it at an older age than I had. “Well, yes, when I was a grade-schooler,” I admitted. “But I’m bigger now.” I stuck out my boobs to convince her. “Take your panties off and get in,” Sharon told me. “You’re wiggling your hips like a preschooler! I’ll pee with you if you like.” “No,” I replied. I looked up. Lovely ivy vines climbed the wall. The pool lay quiet, waiting. Its water was still, but I sensed that somewhere within it water was silently entering and exiting, passing fresh water in from pipes and then draining the spent water away, outside, where it watered the garden that was visible in the moonlight beyond the sliding glass doors of the ballroom. I stepped onto a step that led in three easy steps up to the submerged shelf of the pool. “Take off your bottoms first,” Sharon told me. She unclipped my leash from my collar. Katy and Sauron did not object. The leash, at least, I was glad to be rid of. Perhaps Miriam wouldn’t shush me anymore when I spoke. I put my thumbs in my panties. They were stuck in my ass crack again, but I was going to teach them a lesson for once. I didn’t bother untying them. I wanted to put them back on after I peed! I slid them down my legs, wiggling, blushing, needing to pee more than ever. “God, what an ass!” a man behind me proclaimed. “That’s another benefit of sitting in the pool,” Sharon laughed, happy that I was obeying her. “It lets you cool your bottom before we’re all whipped!” I stopped lowering my panties. They hung round my knees. I looked at Sharon, then at the others. I felt my bare bottomcheeks huddle and tighten. “Jesus!” the man who’d admired my ass said. “How old is she?” he asked Sauron. “Just sixteen,” Sauron replied. “And her ass is mine. Both for punishment and for pleasure.” MAGAZINE REVIEW by holy joe Playboy, February 1998, $4.95. Web: http://www.playboy.com Review: I went to Barnes and Noble today. It’s rumored that they’re selling a book by Jock Sturges that features photos of nude children. However, I had a more pressing need. I got my subscriber’s copy of Playboy in the mail yesterday and needed another copy. Why? Because the centerfold in this issue is really, really great. It’s great on both sides of the centerfold, which means I needed two centerfolds, so I could look at the front and the back at the same time. Also, I wanted to sit in the very same public toilet I was sitting in before, when God spoke to me. Sometimes, when I pray to God while sitting in that toilet, she offers me guidance on interpreting the photographs in the magazines I’m reading. Perhaps I shouldn’t call God ‘God,’ though. It’s actually God’s daughter who speaks to me. She’s 8-years-old. She’s also a blonde. So, with that as fair warning, for your erotic edification, I offer God’s interpretations of the February Playboy: hj: Dear God... G: That’s GodDESS, you dolt. hj: Sorry. Dear Goddess, what is happening to Julia (Miss February) on page 86? G: She’s holding a lollipop. hj: Yes, but why is she making a face? G: I used my magical powers to make her lollipop sour, ‘cause I’m only 8 and she’s 18, and has big boobs. hj: Oh. What’s happening in her centerfold? G: She’s at an elegant bondage club. The other people are wearing masks, and spandex, but as the new initiate she must wear a sexy baby doll nightie. It doesn’t close in back, which is bad news for her, since that means it shows off her bottom. hj: I can see that. Nice ass. But are you sure it’s a bondage club? I mean, she looks like she’s lying on her belly on a nice, comfy bed. G: Of course she is! As it is written in Pamela (published by Blue Moon Books): “There was a carpet, a divan, a sideboard, cabinets -- and a bed in one corner. Bed, it was explained to Pamela, was the best place to birch a young lady. It added a touch of comfort to the experience.” (Page 28). hj: Oh yeah. I forgot about that. That’s a good book. But why is she eating chocolates? G: Chocolate is a sexual stimulant for us girls. Plus, in her case, since she’s about to get spanked, the chocolate hearts she’s been given to eat have been laced with an anesthetic. That way her spanking won’t hurt so much. hj: Oh. Okay, that’s a pretty good interpretation. What’s Julia doing on page 88? G: She’s brushing her teeth before she goes to the bondage club. hj: Oh. What’s she doing on page 89? G: She’s in the bath, looking at her tummy. hj: I can see that. G: She’s checking to see if the lash marks they gave her at the bondage club, across her tummy, have faded away yet. hj: Looks like they have. G: Yep. hj: How about this awesome girl on page 170... the one who’s just received a giant heart from her boyfriend? G: It has a lot of candy in it. hj: Yeah... I figured that. G: But in the center of the heart, hidden under all that candy, is a riding crop! hj: She’ll be a little surprised when she finds that. G: Yes! ‘Love hurts,’ as they say. hj: Okay, you’re doing pretty well here, interpreting these photos. What’s happening on page 172? What’s Jaime Pressly doing in her photo? G: She’s getting a spanking, dolt. I mean, if a girl has her bottom sticking out like that, and her hand clapped to her forehead, and that sort of look on her face, and no clothes on, what would you think is happening to her? hj: I was hoping maybe she was getting a valentine. G: She is. She’s getting her valentine spanking! hj: You’re sort of a perverted Goddess, you know that? G: If you were only 8, and had no tits, and some guy sitting in a toilet looking at nude girls, girls with big boobs, asked you questions, what would you say? hj: Uh... I’d probably be jealous and say all those girls with big boobs were getting spanked. G: Yep! They’re getting spanked for having big boobs and showing themselves off in dirty men’s magazines! hj: Hmmm, now that you put it that way, your interpretations sound entirely rational. G: You stink too much. I’m not going to answer any more questions from a guy taking a poop in a toilet stall! Well, anyway, that was my conversation with her. Besides the photos, there are some excellent articles in this issue. For instance, “Why Women Say Yes,” on page 60, was very helpful. Here’s some excerpts: Lola, age 134: “If he can fog a mirror, I’ll take him. At my age, beggars can’t be choosers.” Amy, age 129: “Having fucked every good-looking hunk in the world, I guess I’ll take most anything that moves now. If necessary, I’ll chase it.” Gwynnie, age 135: “‘Hey, Grannie,’ is all he needs to say to get my attention. Plus, if he waits for me to take out my teeth, I consider him to be a real gentleman.” Teri, age 51: “It doesn’t matter what size he is. Really! If his thing works, I’ll take it. We don’t get too many visitors here at the senior home.” (Note to those who didn’t know: As a female approaches age 30, she sheds all her requirements regarding men. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter if you’re a geek. If you’re wealthy, or look wealthy, or look like you could be induced to earn a decent living, she’ll take you. Then you get to enjoy having: a. A new car. b. A new house. c. A new T.V. d. A used wife, who wouldn’t touch you when she was younger, but now wants to ‘love’ you (read: spend all your money). An article about how to get women over the age of 25 to say “Yes” is about as valuable as an article on how to find snow in Alaska.) What else is in this issue? Well, on page 112, there’s a photo of a nude 60-year-old woman. It’s September 1963 Playmate Victoria Valentino, as she appears today. You might think, based on what I just wrote above, that I’m pissed at having to look at a 60-year-old woman. But, actually, I’m not. One picture’s okay. I actually considered seeing her to be quite educational. I mean, the pictures of her from 1963 are ravishing! I can’t quite believe I’m looking at the same person. I guess I’ll have to take Playboy’s word for it. Anyway, if you’re wondering why I agree with Ann Taylor-Fleming’s statement, “The younger the better,” just take a look at page 112. Another informative item in this issue is “Couch Tomatoes.” (Page 64). Two girls from Playboy T.V. pinch each others’ nipples and examine each others’ bottoms. A great quote: “We’re normal girls talking about sex. ...There are three rules on Night Calls: no last names, no brand names and... no underwear. It makes for interesting wet spots on the couch at show’s end.” (Pages 65-66). (Incidentally, if it isn’t being done already, I’d suggest to Playboy that they get a new pair of girls each season. In the photo on page 66, one of the girls is having her bottom cheeks pried apart by the other girl. But she seems totally unembarrassed by it. If a girl can’t blush when she’s having her ass widened on national T.V., it’s time to get a new girl.) “Out of Bondage,” on page 114, is the most interesting fashion pictorial I’ve ever seen in Playboy. It tells a mini-story of a girl kidnapped by a man, or rescued by him, depending on your interpretation. My only complaint about the fashion pictorial is that there should be at least one photo of the girl without her clothes on. It stands to reason, I think, that us guys don’t buy Playboy to see girls with clothes on. The girl at Barnes and Noble that I bought this magazine from had her clothes on. It’s nudity I want to see! RECORD REVIEW by holy joe Turd, Bowling. Perply Records, $7.99. Review: I must admit I was surprised by this CD’s cover. It shows Perply sitting on the toilet. That, I suppose, is what inspired the name of this album, Bowling. As for the band, Turd, it struck me as a novelty band. Consider these cuts: “I Forgot to Flush Today,” the album’s first song, is reminiscent of an earlier song (which, alas, I can’t remember the title to). But I did like the guitar work. “Wiping your Love” concerns the break-up of a romantic relationship. The thing about this song is it’s a nice, slow dance song. It seems tailor-made for prom night. However, with all the talk in the song about “dick wipe,” “shit covered ass,” and toilet paper, I doubt any schools will let it be played. “Condom Conundrum” is another slow song. What a riot it would be if this song were played during prom night! It’s a duet between a guy and a girl, debating whether to take time off from kissing to put a condom on the guy. Then, just when you’re getting used to the song, figuring that, even if the subject matter is weird to dance to, it’s a good public service, the duet becomes one between two men, debating condom-use before getting down to fucking each others’ asses. “Toilet Overflow” is the next song on the album. Beavis and Butthead would like this song a lot. It’s not slow at all. It has blazing guitar work that contains so much static, another reviewer described it as “rancid”. Anyway, if you’d like to induce your neighbors to move, try turning this song up to 10. I’m sure you remember Van Halen’s song, “Hot for Teacher.” Turd’s take on their teacher is rather less complimentary. The song is called, “Life’s Tough when Teacher Farts.” It’s about someone sitting in the first row of a classroom, at school. All in all this was a pretty good album. Hopefully you’ll see Perply on MTV soon. AND IN THE END... “I still remember every single word you said and the shit that somehow came along with it.” - Foo Fighter David Grohl, reviewing ex-band member Perply’s new album. -------------------------- 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 a stamped, self-addressed envelope to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. 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 330 EMISSION - For your own Baby Tiffany, call 1-800-WE CLONE. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |