Message-ID: <7235eli$9801121757@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 332 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: <34B94519.568C@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 332 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Dungeon of Desire Chapter One “It’s my pool, and you can’t cum in it if I say so,” Miriam insisted. “Just pee. Show us how much you drank. I saw you drinking, now pee it out like you’re supposed to!” The man rolled his eyes. He looked at himself, his quivering dick. It was huge and dry, suspended above the water, yet with pre-cum leaking from its tip. Suddenly, as if in a burst of virility, the man’s pee sprouted from his cockhead. It arched in a lovely stream across the water and landed between his legs, out by his knees. I watched in fascination as he peed relentlessly, for what seemed like a whole minute. The whole room was silent. All eyes were fixed on his glorious cock, and all that could be heard was the sound of his urine. And then he was done. The stream died and we were left just looking, watching his pee slit, as if more would come. But it didn’t. Except for a little drop or two, nothing more came. He rose. He was wet from the waist down and he seemed enraged by the spectacle he’d made of himself, as if only a good, immediate fuck would allay his anger. Miriam reached for him and caught his wrist. He was big and brawny, but her little hand twisted at his wrist as if he could be controlled like a small child. She guided him as he came down the steps from the pool. And she managed to put him back into the crowd. I stood amazed at her power. Would I ever control big men like that someday? Miriam called the next man forward. He sauntered up to the edge of the pool and casually stuck his dick over its edge. “This is stupid,” the man said. He aimed his dick and stood ready to fire. Miriam slapped his ass. “Get in, you bad boy! I’m not about to have you pee in my pond like a men’s urinal!” she scolded him. He jerked a little as she slapped him. He was so big and strong that even a good hearty slap like she’d given him barely annoyed him. His dick waggled. His big balls jiggled between his thighs. Seeing that honey would have to be used, since vinegar had proven quite useless, Miriam kissed his shoulderblade. “Plus, you need to chill your balls down,” she said admiringly. I saw her hand disappear between his legs. He jerked, more responsively this time, as she gave his balls a prying squeeze with her fingers. Up the steps the man went. His cock and balls bounced like obscene Christmas decorations on the front of his body. He seemed weighed down by them, as if they were foreign objects stuck on by naughty elves to make him look ridiculous. I was still young enough that seeing a man, with all his equipment displayed, looked odd to me. What WAS all that stuff? A huge thingy sticking out in front, with absolutely noplace for him to put it, and giant balls hanging down like ripe fruit, except they had hair all over them! The man stepped into the pool. He slushed his way across the stone seat and dropped his wet feet down into the depths. The water came up almost to the tops of his calves. He plopped his bottom down. Sitting on the hard stone seat, shivering a little at the water’s chilliness, he showed us his cock. He had a rainspout one just like the other man had, big and wide and long and totally hard. He eyed us, then smiled and let loose his pee. I heard myself screaming. Jennifer screamed too. It was so awesome! He’d found OUR eyes before peeing, looked right at us! He peed for us and we watched him breathlessly. I gasped when his pee stream stopped. I’d gone without air for at least a minute, so amazed was I by it all, watching him, he watching me. The man obviously wanted to cum but peeing was all that Miriam would permit. He stood up and climbed back onto the seat, not minding at all, I’m sure, the fact that he showed us his hairy ass and his ass crack as he mounted the seat. He swaggered to the pool’s edge and then came down the stone steps. Miriam called the next man forth. Our hero, the one who’d found Jennifer and me in the crowd, waded through the people and came up to speak to us. His girlfriend, intercepting him, clung to his arm. She was 20ish, with shoulder-length blonde hair that she’d permed into a cluster of cascading curls. She shook her hair back and eyed us with cat’s eyes; wanton, unremorseful. I felt like a little canary under her gaze. “Let’s fuck,” the man said to me. His words were blunt and direct. He placed his hands on my hips, eyeing Jennifer as he spoke to me. His thing stuck itself in my belly button. I was shorter than he was. “We want to party first,” Jennifer said quietly. Her voice was meek, like that of a schoolgirl who hopes to be overruled by her teacher. “A quick fuck wouldn’t hurt anything darling,” the man’s female lover chimed in. “It wouldn’t take very long and it would make you calmer for the party.” Jennifer looked at me. I could see in her eyes she wanted to. Did she need permission? Did she think her mom would appear and write her a permission slip? “That bra you’re wearing. Don’t those metal zippers scrape your bosoms?” the man’s lover asked. I learned later her name was Colette. “A-A little,” Jennifer replied. Colette’s fingertips touched Jennifer’s breasts. She hefted the cones and slipped her fingers protectively between the open zipper halves and Jennifer’s bosoms. Then, removing her fingers, Colette reached around behind Jennifer and unsnapped her bra. Carefully, so as not to scrape her nipples, Colette lifted off Jennifer’s bra. “Come,” Colette urged. She reached for Jennifer’s hand. Together they headed for a private bedroom. Colette’s lover, whom I learned later was named John, turned me around. With my bottom bare, he made me walk in front of him, his eyes pasted to my ass and his cock bobbing behind me like a snake, ready to bite. We stepped into a hallway. Colette led Jennifer to a door and they peeked inside. “Ooops! It’s a study,” Colette sighed. She closed the door and we went on down the hall to the next room. It proved to be the kitchen. The next room, however, contained a bed, and we slipped inside. Colette closed the door and locked it. “Get on the bed,” Colette said in a no-nonsense voice to Jennifer. My friend went to the bed, and turned down its covers. I could see she was scared. Her knees were quivering and almost knocking together with her fear. But at the same time her ass was gyrating in the most alluring little circles, all hot and bothered and eager. “Get in!” Colette said, and slapped Jennifer’s ass. Jennifer yelped. She crawled up into the bed and immediately lay down and pulled the covers over her. Colette, having none of that, pulled the covers back down. “Let me see those fairy-tale bosoms of yours,” Colette said hotly. She grabbed Jennifer’s bosoms and squeezed them brutally. She lowered her face to them and bit at one of Jennifer’s nipples. “Ohch!” Jennifer cried. Her eyes gaped wide as Colette snapped at each of her hard, upstanding nipples. The woman showed little appreciation now. She pried at Jennifer’s nipples with her teeth as if they were bottlecaps that had to be yanked off of bottles. John tugged at the drawstring that held up my bra. It was tied in a neat bow upon my back. I clapped my hands to my breasts to save myself but I felt the drawstring on my back unravel under John’s fingers. He put a palm to the back of my head and bent my head forward and loosed the drawstring that hid under my hair at the back of my neck. I found myself holding my bra. Clasping it to my breasts, all its strings undone. It was my last morsel of modesty and I didn’t want to lose it. I stared at John with wide, frightened eyes. His face was implacable. He showed no feeling whatever, just an iron will. It seemed to concentrate itself in his eyes and in his penis. Both looked hard as steel. They demanded my complete obedience. Wildly I turned to Jennifer for help. But she was on her back on the bed, suffering already, Colette biting at her tits as if they were Christmas sweetmeats. “Bend over,” John said to me. He didn’t exactly give me a choice. I found my view of Jennifer’s plight interrupted as he shoved me forward to the bed and, banging my thighs against it, made me bend over until my face was in the rumpled covers. I still held my bra to myself. I felt him pry my thighs apart. His cockhead stabbed at my moist cunny. He pierced it. “God, you’re tight!” John said regretfully. I felt his shaft try to enter me. I seemed to close upon him and he could not get himself up me. He reached round and palmed me between my legs, quite roughly, as if manhandling me upon my spot would excite me enough to force me to open myself to him. Realizing that I’d saved my bra only to lose my cunny, I let go of it. I was in very hot water now. I had a man I didn’t even know shoving his cock up my cunt. I fingered the covers of the bed and wondered what I could do. Was this the fate of all women? To meet a male and be bent over by him and forced, yes forced, to take him? It did no good asking permission in the end, did it? A girl did not want to be asked for permission. She wanted to meet her match, and to be outdone. I was undone, I realized, as my foe found me wet and ready. Slick within, my tightness could not save me from him for long. He shoved within me and felt me resist. But, at the same time, a new juicing of desire moistened within me and made the part of his cock that was in me all wet. I sensed I would lose our little battle and, enjoying my tightness now, he sensed I would lose it too. We communicated with our loins. Our faces couldn’t see each other but our private parts touched, felt each other, communicated in tremors and in sprinklings of wetness. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jennifer meanwhile cried. Turning my head just a little, afraid for my friend even as much as I was for myself, I saw Colette reach under the pillow at Jennifer’s head. She drew out a length of silk rope. It was white. I guessed that Miriam must have secreted it there, for partiers to use at their leisure. MAPPLETHORPE by Kenneth Pobo Cincinatti’s all wrong it’s rather obvious when a man has a bullwhip up his butt rather obvious when a man pisses on another man why go boombah over the obvious it’s his flowers that are so goddamned HOT his pop up touchable hardon flowers COMIC REVIEWS by holy joe Iniquitous Funnies, No. 21, 25 cents. Minicomic. White, 8 pages. Brian Kirk, Moot Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA 01108. e-mail: mootcomics@aol.com web: http://www.the-spa.com/bear/moothome Review: I still remember in junior high when we saw a film on native peoples in a faraway foreign land. In the film young boys, to prove their manhood, each tied a single vine to their ankle. Then, en masse, they jumped off a cliff. They spiralled head first down to the base of the cliff where, by just inches, they avoided slamming their heads into the ground. By luck, at least in most cases, the vine tied to their ankle caught them just in time, giving them a bone-jarring pull back toward the top of the cliff. We all thought this was the stupidest thing we had ever seen people do. You can imagine my surprise, then, when an activity heretofore confined to dumb native people in a faraway land showed up in the United States as the popular hobby of ‘bungee jumping.’ And the same goes for piercing. I still remember when one would look with revulsion at dumb Africans who pierced themselves. Suddenly, ‘normal’ white people in America started doing this. Even pretty white girls started doing this, a group one would think would have the good sense not to disfigure themselves. Brian Kirk explores the subject of piercing in his latest issue of Iniquitous Funnies. (Hope I spelled that right!) And, for once, I began to get a glimmer of piercing’s appeal. The main character, Asinine Head, goes to a piercing studio. There, he sees all sorts of little baubles, all of which are designed to be affixed, through piercing, to the human body. I suppose it is the allure of these baubles that makes piercing attractive. They are rather fun to look at, laid out on page four of this comic. In fact, Asinine Head himself enjoys looking at them so much, that he decides to get them all. (That’s why he’s known as ‘Asinine Head.’) Unfortunately for Asinine Head, he gets pierced just as this ill-conceived trend is going out of fashion. I’m glad to see that it is. For those of you who are wondering, should I get pierced? Will it add to my beauty? Here’s holy joe’s take on the subject: (Note: I’m only rating female body parts here. I couldn’t care less if guys get themselves pierced.) Eyebrow piercing: Stupid. It adds absolutely nothing to your erotic potential. Nose piercing: Even stupider. Even the little ‘stud through the nostril’ type of piercing looks totally unsexy to me. Lip piercing: Dumb. Tongue piercing: There is some erotic potential here, but remember that this is a rather important part of the body you’re fooling with. What if you want to be a newscaster someday? Nipple piercing: I wouldn’t recommend it. Use nipple clamps if you want to play with your nipples. Rings, permanently embedded, are likely to give you a two-dollar whore image instead of an erotic one. Navel piercing: There is some erotic potential here. Still, I’d say it’s about 50/50. On the one hand, the tummy is the surface of the female womb, and a small, discreet jewel implanted there is a way of saying, ‘I might be available for your penis to pierce me.’ On the other hand, a bare belly with a sweet, dimpled navel is highly erotic in itself. Anything implanted in the navel covers it up. Cunt piercing: There is some erotic potential here. But, really, when you see a porno magazine, and the lady has rings through her sexual organs, it adds nothing to the sexiness of the photo. I would say that cunt piercing is best left to the realm of fiction. Fun to read about, but not to actually see or do in real life. If you want to be sexy, buy a ‘butt bauble’ and stick it up your rear end. When you’re done playing, you can pull it out. (I’m not quite sure how a ‘butt bauble’ is attached, but I think it’s done without the use of a needle.) So, there you have it. In my opinion, only the tongue, the belly, and the cunt are sexually enticing places for a female to be pierced. And, in each case, there is a substitute which could be used instead. Consider this: Why pierce your tongue when you can simply place a metal clip on it? Let’s say, for instance, that your boyfriend attaches a metal clip to your tongue. Then he attaches a dog leash to the clip. Then he leads you around all night, like a dog, by your tongue. That’s quite sexy. When you get bored, you can simply take the clip off. The same goes for your nipples. You can be clipped and lead around by one or more ‘tittie leashes’. I’d play sex games that way many times, if I were a girl, before I’d agree to actually get pierced through my tongue or nipples. There’s no real way to attach a clip to your belly button. However, in Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty, Beauty has a gem pasted into her belly button. Presumably, when her lover tires of seeing her that way, he simply pulls the gem out. That, to me, seems a more than adequate substitute. As for the cunt, I assume a small clip could be placed on whatever part of your cunt you want to decorate. Which brings up another point: cunt shaving. There is no need to do this, in my opinion. Right now I’m looking at Playboy Playmate Dorothy Mays’ unshaved cunt, and it looks great. It looks natural! The shaved cunt can look rather like something out of ‘Aliens,’ waiting to swallow a man up. At most you might want to trim your cunt hair a little, but only if you get too bushy. Otherwise, I’d say, leave it alone. (Of course, us guys are always happy to see you make a show of combing, brushing, washing, and blow drying your bush.) (Not to mention having a girlfriend lick it for you!) AND IN THE END... “The Spice Girls, sold as a group of sassy young girls in charge of their own destiny -- their slogan is ‘girl power’ -- were in fact dreamed up and promoted by middle-aged men.” - The Economist, December 20, 1997, pg. 77. -------------------------- 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 332 EMISSION -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |