Message-ID: <7272eli$9801132114@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 333 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: <34BB29EE.2A5F@idt.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- FIND OUT IF YOU’RE A REAL MAN or just a feminist lackey... YOUR MISSION: Go to SunCoast Video. Find the movie Boarding School, starring Natassja Kinkski. Stare at the front of the box. Can you bear to walk out of the store, without buying this video? (It only costs $4.99.) If you can leave the store without this video, you are a feminist lackey. This zine is not for you. You are the sort of person who got baby changing stations put in all the men’s restrooms. Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Sponsored by: Crab the dog Issue No. 333 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Dungeon of Desire Chapter One Jennifer was given no leisure. Colette grabbed her wrists and flung them above her head. Then, obviously a graduate of the Girl Scouts, Colette quickly tied Jennifer’s hands to the headboard. It was made of brass and had convenient bars spaced across its length for the purpose, I had no doubt, of just such a binding. With her arms bound above her head, Jennifer presented her nipples involuntarily to Colette. The woman, so concerned for the health of Jennifer’s breasts in the ballroom, now picked up the crop she’d brought with her and used it to torture Jennifer’s breasts. She caught the loop at the tip of her crop around one of Jennifer’s nipples. “My, your breasts are so nice and big even when you’re lying flat on your back!” Colette said. She had nice breasts, but they were not as big as Jennifer’s. Jennifer arched her back, hoping to throw off the woman who’d mounted her tummy and showed no signs of anything now but utter wickedness. “My, you buck like a horse,” Colette said. “You’d think somebody was going to punish your breasts!” And with that, to a scream from Jennifer, Colette began striking her. The woman brought down her crop right on Jennifer’s nipples, each in turn, striking with just the leather loop at the tip of her crop. Each biting blow brought a gasp of alarm from Jennifer, followed by a little scream. “Tell your nipples to quit sticking up like that!” Colette scolded. “Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!” Again and again she brought the looped tip of her crop down on Jennifer’s poor teats. Reaching back behind herself with one hand, Colette found Jennifer’s spot between her thighs and fondled the girl. Colette, despite her suffering, kept her thighs apart. Colette would only whip her more mercilessly if she tried to close her legs to the woman. I, meanwhile, having won a reprieve as John and I stared at Jennifer’s plight, suddenly found myself on the receiving end of his cock. He’d never left me, but had held it within me while we both looked, the two of us amazed, for the moment, at the luscious sight of poor Jennifer having her nipples whipped. I pitied her, yet having never seen such a thing I found it impossible not to look, and be amazed, and forget, for a moment, the bulging presence within the opening of my cunt. Now, however, with renewed strength and energy, John burrowed into me and I was forced to open myself to his presence. He was pressure. He was insistence. Above all, he was large. His wide cockhead split me like a plum and he stabbed up within me, making me gasp, making me take all of him. I found myself impaled on his dick and there was absolutely nothing I could do to rid myself of him. I bucked my hips, but that only let him go deeper. “Do that again,” John told me. “No!” I gasped. But he seized my hips more viciously with his hands and forced me to buck upon him. Soon I felt his grip lighten and found that I was, indeed, obeying his command. I couldn’t stop what he’d started. Biting my lower lip and doing my utmost to receive him without hurting myself, I shoved my bottom repeatedly into his groin. He began moving within me. Not just letting his shaft hammer me as I bounced my bottom against him, but actually shoving himself back and forth, in deep, long strokes, inside my wetness. I clung to him with the folds of my sex. My entire form seemed to close on him, tightening my grip on him even as I bucked my ass against him and he hammered me with his own independent movements. I raised my face up off the bedcovers and felt my bosoms shake underneath me as I held myself up with my palms flat on the bed. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I blurted. Jennifer, flat on her back on the bed, howled as Colette’s fingerings at her spot brought her pleasure. John held himself manfully as I gave him my best. I didn’t care anymore that my mom might appear and see me without my panties on. I rammed my girlish ass against him like a lioness, my golden hair falling in my eyes, my bosoms shaking beneath me like abandoned fruit, left to fend for themselves in the rising wind of autumn. “Fuck me! Fuck me with your tit!” I heard as Colette, mounting one of Jennifer’s pillowy bosoms, tried to force the cone of flesh into her cunt. She could not find release upon Jennifer’s little peaked nipple, and soon passed on to Jennifer’s face, where she sat her pussy down on the girl’s gasping mouth. “Mmmmf! Mmmmmf!” I blathered, bucking against my steed. John groaned as, Indian-like, I made my bare waist a thing of vaselike movements, back and forth and back and forth and back again, sleek and unending in its demands. Gripped within me, splitting me but yet, ultimately, captive to me, John found his huge organ immersed within the pleasurable sensations of Need. The Need that builds and builds until you are straining, yearning, eager to cum and yet not wanting to lose it. I felt a tension within my womb, knowing I must release myself upon him, let myself ride a great balling orgasm. And I knew he must feel it too, but in his case it must be more desperate still, for his Need would result in him losing his precious seed. Deep in my hungering womb. Where my eggs lay. The eggs that would make him a father. Had I taken my pill? In my bouncing squirmings I couldn’t remember now. Perversely, I hoped I hadn’t. I wanted him to impregnate me. Let his little moment of folly bind him to me forever. And then, as I felt his organ swell with his impending release, I realized I didn’t know his name. Later I found out it was ‘John,’ never learning his last name. How could I finger a man I didn’t know? He would escape, and leave me with child, alone in the world and helpless. A bursting within me. He came in me just as I came upon his enormous prick. There was no time for second thoughts, for newfound reservations. His seed flooded into my womb, hot, copious. I found myself drowning inside, so wet and sticky and fulsome was his spurting. Jennifer, meanwhile, abandoned with her spot half-tickled, but unfulfilled, bucked her bare hips upon the sheet of the bed as her mouth was pinned down and forced to lick within Colette’s nest. I received. All of John’s sperm, possibly all he’d ever made in his life, came spurting from his balls, 30 years worth of seed made in his testicles and saved up just for me. For my womb, for my eggs that simmered inside me, begging for fertilization. I mouthed the bedcovers. I bit them. I knew I was bad and deserved whatever he gave me. In and out he shoved himself, sluicing in the wetness of my juices and his spouting seed. We climaxed together. It was the perfect merging of two healthy young bodies. His, hairy and strong and demanding; mine sleek and small and yet just as eager for him as he was for me, the two of us slamming our hips back and forth like joined serpents. Poor Jennifer offered her hips to us but we ignored her. Her bush was left to bounce upon the bed, unattended, she hearing our cries as her own mouth was forced to feed in the wet moistness of Colette’s pussy. Our course completed at last, our combat finished, John withdrew his hardness from me. I stood up. I brushed back my hair. How does one compose oneself after such an intimate joust? I saw Jennifer’s eyes staring upward, and looked, and saw a mirror there, on the ceiling. She had seen all. I smiled at her. She stared blankly at me, her nose in Colette’s bush and her mouth feeding within the woman’s pussy. I turned to John. I smiled at him. I looked down at his organ and saw it was declining in strength. I touched his drippy cockhead. It enlarged a little at my touch, then continued its shrinkage. Men are so strange. How do they become so big if their wieners are really so small? His hugeness withered away. I wanted to bend down and kiss him back to life but he turned away. He was done with me. He went looking for our room key and found it on a dresser by the door. He unlocked our door and went out. I watched his hairy ass as he rounded the corner and left me without so much as saying goodbye. Still, he had given me his best. I felt like running after him but I didn’t. I turned instead to Jennifer. We were friends. We’d promised, with our eyes, to protect each other at the party. I spied Colette’s crop lying on the bed. I picked it up. It was payback time. WHACK! I slammed the crop against the soft, bulging whiteness of Colette’s ass. It was a pretty ass, but I was mad at her for getting me raped and for biting Jennifer’s pretty pink nipples. “Oh, God!” Colette cried. She clapped her hands to her bottom and her head flung itself back. I watched as the red line I’d burned into her posterior made her squirm upon Jennifer’s mouth, and I realized she’d enjoyed it. “Did you like that?” I gasped. I was angry at her, and appalled. How could a woman like having her hiney whacked? I mean, if a man insists, for his own wicked pleasure, I guess a girl can find enjoyment in making him happy, accepting her fate, letting him work his will on her. But there were no men here now. There was just me, and Jennifer, and Colette. I smacked her hands with the crop and she yanked them off her bottom. She shoved her ass back at me, begging for more. I gave her another blow, and another, in rapid succession. I wanted her off my friend. Colette, finding my blows harder and harder, found her bare bottom was less prepared for my punishment than she’d thought. I showed her no mercy. I hoped each stroke of mine, however imprecisely and weak-wristedly I delivered it, still very much a novice, made a big welt across her ass. I tried my best to hurt her. Colette bucked and moaned and ground her pussy into Jennifer’s face. Jennifer, I realized, was getting the worse for it, her poor face practically smashed within Colette’s cunt, but I didn’t know how else to help her. Might I wrestle Colette off her? Colette was sleek and firm and I knew she would just overpower me. I had to stay back, yet punish her enough to get her off my friend. Suddenly Colette tensed. She was cumming. I watched in horror as Colette mushed her pussy upon Jennifer’s poor mouth and orgasmed. I sensed Jennifer, if only to rid herself of the woman, worked her tongue in Colette’s slit and pleasured her. Upon that stabbing tongue and attentive wet mouth Colette issued forth her moist spendings. Then, tossing back her hair and getting up from my friend as if she were rising off a toilet, Colette climbed down off the bed. She looked at me, a little guiltily I hoped, and then she caught my face in my hands and kissed me. Our bedroom door was still open and she simply walked out, leaving me with her lipstick on my lips, swinging her hips and reaching back to cup her bottom. It must have hurt from all the blows I’d delivered. I looked at Jennifer. We were alone. We were bereft. Colette and John had simply used us and left. We were guests at an orgy, I realized. We were here to use each other’s bodies, and nothing more. We were like children with a key to somebody’s candy shop, except our own bodies were each other’s candy. I climbed onto the bed. Jennifer, crying, offered me her bush. I kissed it. It was furry. I looked at her, my nose buried in her bush, and gave her a polite little lick. Did she wish for more? A bucking of her hips showed me she did. “Children!” I heard from the doorway. My head bolted up and I turned to face my accuser. Was it mom? No, I breathed, in my relief. It was Miriam. But I blushed all the same as she saw me with my nose sniffing Jennifer’s quim. “Come, you two! We are going to have a dance now, and I don’t want you to miss it!” Miriam said. She strode into our borrowed bedroom and gazed at us with loving eyes. “Poor girl! Has someone been biting your nipples?” she asked Jennifer. There were hickeys all over Jennifer’s sweet gourds where Colette had bitten her. Jennifer, her wrists still bound to the headboard, could only stare up at Miriam, guiltily, I thought, given the blush that suddenly flooded her cheeks. Miriam bent and kissed each of Jennifer’s teats. “Mmmmm!” Miriam declared. She savored them, as if drawing nectar from them. Jennifer, already blushing, gasped a little moan. “There, that should make them all better,” Miriam suggested, showering Jennifer’s nipples with a series of little kisses. I, hoping to make Jennifer happy, licked in her bush with little licks. Miriam stood up. She untied Jennifer’s wrists from the headboard. It took a while. The rope had been tied tightly and Miriam didn’t want to break her fingernails. All the while I politely kissed Jennifer’s cunny, not sure now whether she wanted me to make her cum or not, Miriam being present amongst us. Angel in Flesh by Bohdan Kot Her legs tangle me like a vine. I eat her gentle ripe fruit. She fills me with a green fire. A madness not from heaven or hell swirls on my bed made of clouds. The air lays heavy on my back. My room, dark and blue, forms a glow. The full moon shines on her face while I continue to feast. Angel sheds a smile that spills over me like a wet sun ray. COMIC REVIEW by holy joe Bob’s Funny book, No. 1, 25 cents. Minicomic. Blue paper, 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: This is a short, rather pointless story about a comic book shop proprietor. He’s named Bob. He orders a new batch of comic books and finds that prices have risen so much that the distributor is only able to deliver a single comic. That, at least, appears to be the story. There’s no dialogue in this comic. Instead, Brian relies on ‘picture’ word balloons. I enjoyed looking at the art in this comic, but without dialogue it lacked a certain amount of substance. Worse, the comic appears to have been drawn to please a friend (a real life ‘Bob’). So, instead of ending the comic looking like an ass, as the ever-lovable ‘Asinine Head’ would, Bob’s comic ends with Bob happy and content. Here’s an idea: Next issue, Bob refuses to let kids read his ‘valuable’ comics. (No browsing! Purchase only!) He complains that they have sticky fingers from eating candy. In retaliation, a kid buys a (cheap) comic, asks to use the toilet, and stuffs the comic down into the commode. A little later, Bob goes to the toilet for a nice s(h)it. He takes his most valuable comic book with him, grumbling about how he has to constantly ‘protect’ his valuable comics from ‘those damn kids’. (His customers.) Flushing after a good poop, Bob feels the toilet water welling up under his bottom. The shop is flooded with turds and all Bob’s ‘valuable’ comics get spoiled by water damage. Then, to stay in business, Bob is forced to hold a ‘flood sale’, selling his comics at cut-rate prices. “Now we’ve got some fun stuff to read!” one sticky-fingered kid, munching on messy candy, tells another as they enjoy Bob’s discount comics. (The Three Stooges, after all, didn’t get popular by being happy and content in their films.) AND IN THE END... Where would we be without PARENTS? “When Zane Grey was 15 his father tore up his first attempt at fiction. ...Yet Grey’s pioneering westerns were to become so popular that, in the end, they provided the bases for more than 100 films.” -The Economist, July 19, 1997, Review page 13. -------------------------- 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 333 EMISSION - [Grey’s] stories of rugged frontier lives are part of the cherished identity and the romantic history of the continent -- an indispensable element of the great American dream.” (Ibid., Review pg. 14.) -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |