YES, I GOT KICKED OFF AOL
Dear Reader, the right-wing Christians finally managed to get me
kicked off of America Online. I was told by America Online that my web
page violated their ÒTerms of Service.Ó As you know, my web page was
titled Òholy joeÕs Totally Worthless web page.Ó It had absolutely nothing
on it. There was a very poor drawing of a hoboÕs face, and a very
abbreviated statement of how to subscribe to this newsletter.
There was, of course, no appeal from AOLÕs decision to terminate my
account. My AOL web page and my AOL ftp sites no longer exist. They have
been destroyed by AOL.
For all I know, I may be kicked off this new service, InReach
Internet, by the right-wing Christians. I will do my best to continue
publishing this newsletter.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 265
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Two
I managed to tip my head slightly to one side. There, on the couch,
sat my lover, with Cheyenne sitting primly beside him. She was still clad
in her panties, but LouisÕ cock reared up through his pants fly. AndreÕs
was similarly displayed. Cheyenne was playing her mittened fingers
underneath their cocks, very lightly, as if preparing them for something
herself.
ÒOh, how I would love to trade Fleury for one of you!Ó Rose declared,
seeing Cheyenne entertaining the twin cocks. Suddenly, in my mind, I saw
Louis tied in my place, with his cock stemming high, waving like a third
pole, but without the bunting, and the little silken whip raining down on
his balls and his glans. I felt a rush of excitement between my legs.
ÒIÕve struck oil!Ó Sylvia announced for all the world to hear. My
essence was secreting itself. I heard a laugh and turned my head and
blushed as I saw people outside, looking in, some nicely dressed, others
just in swimsuits. They stared at my gagged face. But they looked more
intensely at my breasts, or especially between my legs, where a lifting of
SylviaÕs head to catch her breath allowed the guests outside to see my
slit. Wide open, yielding, quite wet now. Rose eased SylviaÕs head aside
and brought her whip down once more.
I howled. My breasts shook. Joanne lifted her face and let Rose
strike my titties. Then my cunt again. Then my titties. After each blow
my twin girlfriends immediately attempted to soothe me with their
tongues. On and on it went. In the distance Cheyenne kept fingering Louis
and AndreÕs cock, very discreetly. They undid her panties at last, slipping
the drawstrings. They got up and urged her toward the dias. She cried out
and dropped her purse.
ÒYes, you must be next dear. You are too pretty to pass up,Ó Rose
said. I was untied by Joanne and Sylvia. I was shunted aside like a toy
from some Christmas past and Cheyenne was fastened down in my place.
They did not bother to change the silk cloth on the bolster. They stuffed
her panties in her mouth, skipped the gag, and began beating her with the
whip.
I lay curled in a fetal position nearby. My cunny stung, my nipples
stung, my bottom was still sore from last night. All my tenderest places,
which should have been properly clothed, were nude and stinging. They
made Cheyenne suffer just as I had. Joanne and Sylvia tongued her to give
her a little respite from the blows. Louis and Andre watched, standing
over her, ignoring me, letting their pricks stand out like hard locks, but
not touching them, for Rose insisted they must not.
ÒNow for you, Andre,Ó Rose said when CheyenneÕs turn was over.
Bawling, she was rolled over to me and Louis laughingly tied his friend
down. Joanne and Sylvia helped, as well as Rose. Andre was resistant.
But he did not use all his strength to prevent his fate, and so at last Louis
won, and to my heartbeating surprise I found myself staring at AndreÕs big
sausage-like pecker, sticking straight up and showing its glory. Even
Cheyenne stopped her sobbing to admire such a glorious sight.
Rose licked her lips and began the torture. At once Andre shouted. It
hurt far worse than he imagined. Rose eased up a little and played over
him awhile. She stung his cock all up and down its length. Andre asked
her to spare his nuts but she did not. Despite her wishes to see him be a
father, she bounced the cruel tips all over his bulging sack with its
precious twin testicles. Andre bellowed like a steer being neutered. The
guests outside laughed. It was not their genitals on display, suffering
under the cat. ÒCum, cum, cum,Ó Joanne and Sylvia began chanting.
Cheyenne joined them. Rose chimed in, timing each ÒcumÓ with another
blow of her cat. I could not speak. I was still gagged.
A recess was called. Joanne and Sylvia were permitted to tongue
and soothe our bold heroÕs loins. Andre whimpered like a dog. It was so
pleasurable, feeling two young females attend to his stiff groin, and yet
the whip was such agony, its sting lasting even as Joanne and Sylvia did
their best to make him feel only pleasure.
ÒWhat? The girls didnÕt make you cum? After all that work?Ó Rose
scolded Andre when Joanne and Sylvia stopped to catch their breaths.
They had really given him their all, hoping to make him cum so Rose would
release him. Andre seemed confused. To cum was often a crime here,
spoiling our pleasure. Yet now it seemed to be required. But for Andre,
cumming was now a more distant option, for instead of letting the girls
please him again Rose beat him instead.
WHICKCK! WHICKCK! came the silken, knotted cords down on poor
AndreÕs shaft and balls. I was feeling quite sorry for him now, knowing
how much RoseÕs torture had hurt me. Still gagged, but with my hands
free, I suddenly leapt up and crawled to Andre and grabbed his cock with
both my hands.
ÒNo! No more!Ó I cried. My words were mangled but there was no
mistaking my desire. My breasts wiggled freely beneath me. My bottom
stuck out in back, impudently, and I had no doubt Louis felt like kicking me
in the ass with his sharp pointed shoes. AndreÕs pants, removed and
discarded, lay dangling off the edge of the dias. He was helpless. Only I
cared enough to save him. I put my cheek to his penis and, despite the gag,
I rubbed my cheek up and down his meaty pole.
Rose relented. She let me have Andre all to myself. Joanne bent
down and untied my gag for me. I spit it out as soon as I could. Awful
thing. It had my saliva on it and would have had my blood on it too if IÕd
been allowed to bite as IÕd wished to. Hungrily I stuffed AndreÕs poor
organ into my mouth. I did not care about anything except getting as much
of his injured tool safely into my mouth as I could. I rammed him down my
throat. I gagged on his penis but I did not try to stop myself.
Louis gazed down at me. Sylvia watched with amusement. Rose let
her cat dangle, unsure how to proceed, or whether to proceed at all. I felt
like a little rabbit, hunched down, my eyes attentive, my mouth gorged on
AndreÕs manhood. For at least a minute all remained like this, the crowd
watching, Cheyenne watching, Louis watching. And then, deep in my
throat, I felt a sudden spurting. Andre shouted like a boy having his first
spurt. His mouth gasped. The crowd outside erupted into laughter and
then, after a moment, applause. I let Andre jet deep into my throat. I
worked as best as I could to swallow all he gave me. It was too much,
though, and it came oozing and then rushing out of my widespread lips,
running down the length of his sausage that I hadnÕt been able to fit into
me.
After an especially long ejaculation, my palms palming his balls and
feeling their swelling ease, Andre sighed. I felt his huge worm lose some
of its hardness within my mouth and throat. Down he slipped, retracting
on his own. At last I spat out his cockhead, regretfully. I gazed at its
saliva slicked surface, a sheen of his own sperm mingled with my eager
spit. I kissed his softened cockhead and stood. I grimaced as, in standing,
I felt the torture anew upon my cunt, where Rose had beaten me. I
stumbled backward and Louis caught me.
Cheyenne crawled to me and placed her mouth upon my bush. I stood
hanging in LouisÕs arms, my legs akimbo, my cunny pulsing. Oblivious to
her own pain, Cheyenne began tonguing me. Then, lightly, carefully, she
put a hand to her own slit as she licked mine. It was no use, I saw. She
could not touch herself with her fingertips. It was too painful. But a
tongue would be just right. She desisted, taking her fingers away from
herself, but nobody came to her aid. Joanne had gone down on Sylvia, the
two of them entertaining each other, while Rose found herself consoling
Andre and, eventually, lying with him on the dias and kissing him again and
again, running her hands over his chest, toying with his cat-kissed
member.
Cheyenne remained kneeling disciple-like before me. She tongued me
until my chest heaved and my bosoms bounced, my breath coming in quick
gasps and then fretful moans and finally blurting out orgasmic screams.
As soon as IÕd had my turn, I let Louis drop me and I licked Cheyenne
between her own legs. She trembled under my tonguings. Louis watched
with fascination. He began stroking himself. He warned us he would spurt
all over our lovely hair but we didnÕt care. Cheyenne gazed up at him, her
breasts bare, her nipples hard and her eyes soft. Her mouth mouthed out
gasps of increasing pleasure. At last, under my helpful tongue, she cried
out in alarm and felt herself go over the edge. As soon as she did, Louis
hosed us both down with his sperm.
ÒLouis!Ó I cried, my mouth buried in CheyenneÕs cunt. I didnÕt really
think he would do it, perhaps, but he did, and I knew IÕd have to spend an
hour in the tub now getting all his stickiness out. He spurted over me,
then, showing enormous restraint, he waggled over to CheyenneÕs face and
gave her the rest of himself, squirting her right on her nose and then
decorating her lovely brown hair as if it were a chocolate cake in search
of vanilla icing.
ÒOh, Louis!Ó Cheyenne breathed, but she was otherwise to
pleasurably entertained by my mouth to protest. I finished her, then lifted
my face and kissed LouisÕs leg. He smiled at me. There were drippings
left, and he turned and offered to sprinkle them over me. I let him. It was
too late now. I was doomed to the bath anyhow.
After all of us were spent we went our separate ways. Louis and
Cheyenne, and I, however, agreed to take our bath together. As the sun set
outside, we all spent the next hour in my bathtub in my room. We soaped
each otherÕs privates, Louis doing Cheyenne and I very tenderly, so as not
to hurt us. Then Cheyenne and I did him. We washed our hair, too,
Cheyenne and I, and it took awhile to get LouisÕs very virile sperm out of
our hair, but Louis helped a little, massaging our scalps and kissing our
eyelids.
Afterwards, standing outside the tub and patting each other down
with a towel, Cheyenne made a suggestion. ÒLetÕs go downstairs and get a
bite to eat and then come back up and start all over again, in bed,Ó she
said. Her eyes glowed. Despite my whipping I felt renewed somehow
within my cunny lips and along the tips of my tits. My bottom felt better,
my weal sinking back down flush with my skin. I looked at her. She looked
at me. Louis gazed at us with a maleÕs possessiveness and we both
giggled as we watched his cock begin to rise.
ÒJust tongues this time, no whip,Ó I said to Cheyenne.
ÒYes, please,Ó she answered.
ÒOkay,Ó I agreed. We leaned into each other, our hands at our sides,
and let our tongues touch, opening our mouths to let them out. Louis
caressed our bottoms.
ÒCome on! IÕm hungry!Ó Cheyenne said suddenly, breaking our kiss.
We couldnÕt continue or weÕd wind up going all night on empty stomachs.
She turned and took my hand and we walked together to the bathroom door.
Cheyenne beckoned for Louis who was beside us like a hound in heat, and
she took his hand also. Together we marched downstairs, quite naked.
Nobody minded seeing us munching in the kitchen. Our bodies were lithe
and tanned. Our boobies were cute and full and white, a nice contrast to
our limbs and tummies, and our bottoms matched our boobs, with even my
marks from my whipping by Bambi almost gone. CheyenneÕs bottom had
yet to feel the lash. Louis, of course, was a real attention getter, with his
giant organ sticking straight up by now, an open invitation to any female
within 200 miles. We found ourselves joined by curious spectators in the
kitchen, and the recipients of many offers, but we declined them all. When
we were done eating we retreated upstairs, where some kind soul had
changed my bedsheets yet again. But we knew theyÕd soon require
changing yet again, for as soon as we hit the sheets Louis was already
dripping pre-cum on them. Cheyenne and I quickly set about getting each
other moist also. We spent the night tearing the bed apart, moaning and
crying aloud and loving each other til dawn. No whips, no punishments,
just the sensuous torture of delicate tongues and probing fingers and,
amidst it all, LouisÕs powerful cock.
ÒItÕs morning, time to go to sleep,Ó Cheyenne said to me at last. She
giggled and took my face in her hands and kissed me.
ÒYeth,Ó I answered. LouisÕs groin was against my bottom but he was
utterly spent now. There was a wet spot under my hip. My cunny and
bottomhole ached with his comings and goings. Cheyenne was as ravaged
as me. I felt down between her legs for her slit and she winced as I
touched it.
ÒOh, please donÕt,Ó she begged.
ÒIÕm worn out too,Ó I admitted. And, speaking in hushed tones like
that to each other in the fresh light of dawn, we fell into a deep,
exhausted sleep.
Chapter Three
We slept all day. Eventually Louis got up. In my sleepiness I felt
him draw back the bedcovers after heÕd slipped out, to admire Cheyenne
and I. We lay face to face, on our tummies, with our white bottoms
sticking up at him. Her arm was crossed protectively over my waist. She
was, after all, a little older than me.
Louis traced his finger down the cleft of my bottom. It was all
better. I could feel that. I tensed my cheeks a little. In my mind I hoped
heÕd pry me apart and force me to take him up the ass. But he must have
thought I wanted him to desist, for he withdrew his finger. He replaced
the bedcovers. I sighed, a little remorseful, but he took it for
contentment and turned and strode from the room. A father checking on
his child, finding her asleep in her crib. He left. I was alone with
Cheyenne. She stirred a little and nuzzled me with her nose. Her mouth
exhaled into mine. It was sweet, in a female, primalistic sort of way. I
drifted off to sleep again, feeling quite protected, thank you, despite the
presence of the post above my head, where IÕd been tied and beaten. It was
somnolent now, tucked back against the wall, like a penis put back in a
manÕs pants after heÕs done using it.
Later I heard Polly shrieking. I wondered, listened. Yes. She was
running around the castle and had gotten Louis and Andre to chase her.
When they flagged in their attempts to catch her she teased them. My,
such lurid taunts she used. Where did she learn those? And then sheÕd be
screaming again, delightedly, as the two big men raced after her. Back and
forth through the trees they must be running now, for her screams did not
disappear round the backside of the castle as before, but remained below
my window, more distant, then closer again.
HOT OFF THE PRESS
by holy joe
Kinky Konnections, May 1997, $5.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint
pages. Kinky Konnections, P.O. Box 2116, New York, NY 10116-2116.
Review: A little maiden, who looks about 12-years-old, gazes out
at you. She is clad in black leather. She is clutching a big riding crop.
ÒWelcome to Flog Castle,Ó reads the copy (pg. 34).
Eagerly, you turn the page. EEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Some poor fuck, on page 36, looks like heÕs getting something
jammed up his ass, though you canÕt quite see what it is.
This is a magazine for men who like to be dominated by women. I
have always wondered about the masculinity of men who like to be
dominated by women. It seems to me that theyÕre closet homosexuals.
I could see, perhaps, being dominated by a 12-year-old maiden. I donÕt
think that would make one into a fag. But being dominated by a woman
seems to me, at least, to be only one step away from faggotry.
This magazine arrived in my mailbox for free, presumably in
hopes of getting a free review. If youÕre a man who likes being
dominated by women, and likes lots of other dirty shit besides that,
youÕll enjoy this magazine. (For those with high-class taste, I highly
recommend page 34. The rest of this magazine can be tossed in the
trash.)
Exotic Magazine, April 1997, $1.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint
pages. X Publishing, Inc., 625 SW 10th Avenue, Suite 324B, Portland, OR
97205. email: xmag@teleport.com www: http://www.xmag.com
Review: J.G. Ballard is a fairly good science fiction writer. He
also wrote a book about people who like getting in car wrecks.
Recently, this book (IÕm not sure of its title) was made into a movie.
The movie is called ÒCrash.Ó
ThatÕs about the most interesting thing in this magazine, based on
my cursory review of it. (I got this magazine for free). What I actually
like reading most in each issue of this magazine is ÒCarnal Knowledge.Ó
This column contains brief comments by the magazineÕs editor, on page
two. This issue the editor reports various problems with the cover of
his previous issue:
ÒNever have we received as many complaints about our cover
(from prudish people without a clue) railing about the effect of the
cover on children. One lady called to complain that the cover in the
newsracks downtown had butt cheeks exactly the height of her little
boyÕs eyes.Ó
Such is life in 1990Õs America, where even a female in a thong
can provoke outrage.
AND IN THE END...
DOWN WITH PEDOPHILES!
ÒWhen you find something that everybody agrees on, you can be sure of
one thing. That itÕs wrong.Ó
- Congressman Morris Udall
(the agreement, that is, not the thing. - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age
statement to: roller66@inreach.com
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Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 265 EMISSION
- Udall: The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, May 9, 1997.