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         Instinctively, Cum-AndiÕs penis stiffened to its full length.  HeÕd 
never been observed by this many eyes except in the boysÕ locker room.  
But these eyes were different.  They were female eyes...

                                     A Future for All Mankind

                                              except one

                                              AMAZONIA

                                       Now Available from:

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                                      Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY

                                              Issue No. 304

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                              Pussy Playland

                                                Chapter Four

         In the depths of their dungeon I howled out.  They made me cum like 
an animal, a sheep being slaughtered.  Their own cries mingled with mine.  
Jeff pounded me fiercely.  His dick opened me in places IÕd never thought 
possible.  He was enormous inside me.  He split me wide and fucked me 
hard and his wife urged him to spoil me with his fierceness.  But I was not 
spoiled, unless in the way little girls are spoiled, by having daddies who 
give them everything.  
         Jeff shot all he had into me.  I swooned.  Sherry trilled in my ear as 
she fingered herself into bliss.  We forgot everything for awhile; names, 
relationships, personalities.  We were just our organs, Jeff shooting and 
me receiving and Sherry jamming her fingers up into herself.  Our bodies 
humped and heaved.  Our parts became us.
         ÒLet me help you down, honey,Ó Sherry said to me afterward.  With 
tender fingers she undid me from the rack.  I sighed.  Her voice was 
tremulous.  We were both coated with a sheen of sweat, which, having our 
senses back, the cool air of the dungeon quickly used to make us quite 
chilly.
         I looked at her.  Was my hair as unkempt as hers?  It must be.  Yet, 
their was a fullness to both our manes.  They seemed heathy.  I ran my 
fingers through mine when my hands were free and found a richness I had 
not sensed before.
         With light, almost amazed steps, I regained the dungeon floor and 
walked across it.  Jeff had left Sherry to undo me and gone up the ladder 
to get the door open.  I found myself looking up at his hairy butt, way up on 
the ladder.  I heard a thud as the trapdoor was pushed back and fell open 
against the floor of the study.
         Jeff climbed out.  I began up the ladder and Sherry followed me.  
Suddenly, when I was almost at the top, I felt a spray of fluid hit my face.
         ÒJeff!Ó I cried out.  I looked up.  To my horror I saw he was peeing on 
me!
         ÒJeff!  Stop!Ó Sherry cried from down below.  We were both getting 
hit by his stream, me first and she secondarily, his pee dripping and 
splashing off me onto her.  
         There was no hope in getting Jeff to cut off his flow.  Like a little 
boy he gaily peed down on us.  I was forced to accept his urine all over my 
face and boobs.  There was no way for me to escape him.  I was stuck, high 
up on the ladder.  I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted my face back and 
forth but it was no use.  He seemed to catch me whichever way I turned my 
face.  He called down to me to open my mouth but I refused.  
         When at last Jeff had finished I climbed up the rest of the way.  
Gallantly he reached into the hole and lifted me up by my hand and set me 
on my feet on the study floor.  Sherry followed.  We looked at each other 
and saw that we were both dripping with her husbandÕs pee.  
         ÒYour husband is a cad,Ó I told her.
         ÒJust be glad I didnÕt poop on you,Ó Jeff laughed.  He shut the trap 
door.  He pulled the throw rug over it.
         ÒLetÕs shower and take you home,Ó Sherry said to me.  She took my 
hand.  Together we walked to their bathroom.
         
         I was left off at the corner.  I walked the half block to my house by 
myself.  TheyÕd bought me clothes on the way back, Gap clothes, the kind 
mothers like.  My hair was in pigtails and my makeup was gone.  I had a 
sweatshirt on, with long sleeves.  I wore clam-digger pants, showing just 
my calves.  I had sneakers on and my laces were tied.
         ÒKelly!  Where have you been?Ó my mom asked as I banged through 
the screen door of our house.  She was home early, just as I feared.
         ÒI slept over at a friendÕs house,Ó I said casually.  
         ÒWell, you should ask my permission when you do that, dear,Ó my 
mom replied.  ÒWhose bike is that in the garage?Ó she asked.
         ÒOh,Ó I answered.  ÒJust a friend.Ó
         ÒNow I want you to go to the Mormon ChildrenÕs Sunday School this 
evening,Ó my mom told me.  ÒThere will be lots of nice boys and girls 
there your age.  Decent boys and girls, who will be a good influence on you.  
I donÕt want you getting into any of the things most kids around here do.Ó
         I paused a moment.  Should I drop my pants and show her my red 
bottom, where IÕd almost been toasted alive on a bondage table?  Or lift 
my shirt, and show her the marks on my belly where Jeff had whipped me?  
I decided not to.  I was feeling quiet, content.  My eyes were dreamy.
         ÒWhatever you want, mom,Ó I answered.  
         ÒMy, youÕre being good today,Ó my mom said.  ÒPerhaps you should 
sleep over more often.Ó
         I donÕt know if she guessed anything, but I never did have to go to 
sunday school and my mom put away her Mormon records.  We seemed to 
get along much better after that, and she never asked why I Ôshaped upÕ so 
nicely for her from then on, being polite and wearing the clothes she liked.  
But, at the same time, she never questioned me when I happened to Ôsleep 
overÕ either.

                                                  THE END

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                              Nudie Nursery

                                                Chapter One

         I guess I have a sense of adventure.  Most girls find a girlfriend to do 
things with.  But I prefer to go to go to the movies by myself, or to the 
beach, or shopping.  You never know who youÕll meet when youÕre by 
yourself.  And guys are more likely to approach you when youÕre all alone.  
         I love dressing sexy and going out and Ôtesting the waters.Õ  I love 
the anticipation of it.  IÕm just 15, blonde, blue eyed, with long legs and 
high, firm breasts that most guys talk to as if theyÕre me when theyÕre 
speaking to me.  Women like speaking to me too.  ItÕs as if theyÕre afraid 
for me.  Or sometimes theyÕre just looking for a friend.  I play hard to get, 
though.  ItÕs the teasing thatÕs fun for me.  And then, sometimes, you meet 
someone you want to do more with.
         I was building a sandcastle on the beach when she knelt down across 
from me.  I looked up at her.  I was wearing a skimpy bikini bra that barely 
held my breasts.  TheyÕre big for my age.  I guess I should feel bashful 
about showing them off, but I donÕt.  My panties werenÕt thong panties, but, 
on the other hand, they were probably sexier than thong panties.  They had 
a seat that was too small and kept riding up inside my buttcrack.  Every so 
often IÕd stop playing in the sand and reach back behind myself and pull my 
panties out of my crack.  
         ÒMay I help you?Ó the woman asked me.  I smiled.
         ÒSure,Ó I replied.  ÒI used to do this all the time when I was a kid,Ó I 
added.  I patted the walls of my castle to make them firm.  She began 
piling up sand across from me.  I saw that her nails were painted and she 
worked delicately so as not to scrape off the polish.
         ÒI like your Hello Kitty pail,Ó she smiled at me.  It was a small pink 
pail with Hello Kitty on it, sucking a snorkel and watching fish as they 
swirled around her.
         ÒThanks,Ó I answered.  ÒI like Hello Kitty.Ó
         ÒMe too,Ó she replied.  My visitor was raven-haired, perhaps 20-
years-old, with a modelÕs body and knockout breasts.  She must have been 
as daring as me for she wore a bikini with bra cups that were extremely 
narrow.  This left most of her bosom hanging out of each cup, with just 
the nipple covered.  The triangles of her cups stretched upward and quickly 
gave way to nothing but string, which tied behind her neck.  A second 
string, around her back, kept the cups as secure as one could hope, given 
their flimsiness.  I noticed that she worked carefully so as not to let her 
boobs spill out in front of everybody on the beach.  
         ÒMy nameÕs Kate,Ó my new friend offered.
         ÒIÕm Kelly,Ó I answered.
         ÒHmmm, Kate and Kelly,Ó she said.  We both laughed.  
         ÒDo you cum down to the beach often?Ó she asked me.  She spoke in a 
light, sexy voice, and I swear whenever she said the word ÔcomeÕ it had an 
especially naughty ring to it.
         ÒYeah,Ó I said.  
         ÒDo you have any boyfriends?Ó she asked.  I looked up at her.  
ÒSometimes,Ó I said.  ÒDo you?Ó
         ÒNot right now,Ó she replied.  I looked surprised and she hastily 
added.  ÒI just moved here.  Guys can be such a pain, you know?  I had a 
boyfriend in New York and he was too demanding.  Not in the good way, you 
know?Ó  She smiled.  Her teeth were white.  She brushed her hair back, 
carefully, so as not to get sand in it.  She had a mane as dark and long and 
full as a show pony.  ÒI inherited a house on the beach from my uncle.Ó  She 
looked at me closely.  ÒDo you want to hear something strange?Ó she 
asked.  
         I was going to simply reply, ÔI guess so,Õ but something moved inside 
me and I felt a sudden boldness.  ÒYes,Ó I answered.  Our eyes met and I 
felt she was going to divulge some terrible secret to me.  
         ÒHe-Ó she stopped, looked down.  She put a hand to her breasts, as if 
to hold them in (not a bad idea, actually).  Then she looked up at me again.  
ÒDonÕt tell anyone but,Ó she paused again.  ÒHe ran a preschool and, well, 
youÕd have to see it to believe it.Ó
         ÒWhat?!Ó I asked.
         She looked down.  For a moment she just worked on my sand castle.  
Then she looked up at me.  ÒHave you ever imagined yourself captive in 
something like this?Ó she asked.
         ÒSometimes,Ó I answered truthfully.
         ÒWell, he just has a beach house but,Ó she gazed deep into my eyes, 
as if asking me to trust her with her awful secret.  ÒHe kept bondage stuff 
in his house!Ó she whispered.

         We walked up to the lifeguard.  WeÕd strolled along the beach and 
finally picked him out.  We held hands as we walked up to him.  We looked 
terrific in our bikinis but we had butterflies inside our tummies.  
         It hadnÕt taken us long to become fast friends once Kate told me 
about her uncle.  It was so strange to think that a man, in this day and age, 
had managed to run a preschool for little children and keep a dungeon in 
his house.  Imagine all those poor little boys and girls in a house that had 
both a preschool and a dungeon!  Of course, we didnÕt dare to ask the 
unthinkable.  HAD he done more than just teach them their alphabet?  Had 
they learned to count by having a whip flailed over their little bare 
bottoms?  
         Together Kate and I gazed at the lifeguard.  He was setting 
surfboards up against the wall of his shelter.  They were used to rescue 
people.  I think Kate and I needed rescuing just then, but no one was there 
but him.  And we had plans for him!
         The lifeguard turned around and regarded us.  We had let my castle 
succumb to the incoming tide.  I held my Hello Kitty pail in my hand.
         ÒYou two donÕt look like youÕre drowning,Ó the lifeguard said 
sardonically.  I think maybe he felt a little intimidated by us.  We did look 
gorgeous, and our bikinis were almost so small he might have wondered if 
he should cite us for nudity!
         ÒAre you into pain?Ó we asked him, our voices chiming together.  
         ÒWhat?Ó he replied.  His swimsuit grew an instant tent.
         ÒAre you into pain?Ó Kate asked him again.  Her voice was no-
nonsense, insistent.
         ÒIt, well, it depends,Ó the lifeguard replied.  Kate reached out and 
took his big, brawny arm in her hand.  She turned around and tugged him 
along behind us.
         ÒGirls, I just started my shift,Ó the lifeguard protested.  But Kate 
and I marched down the beach, pulling him along, us like little tugboats 
pulling on some giant steamship.

         We stepped into the darkness of KateÕs dungeon.  She flicked on a 
light.  We were still in our swimsuits.  WeÕd just entered her house and 
come right downstairs, not bothering with anything else.  Our eyes 
widened as we saw all the things her uncle had collected.
         Amidst chains and whips and paddles, posts and trestles and cages 
too small to stand up in, were a swingset, a slide, a sandbox, and a 
childrenÕs table with toys on it.
         ÒHere it is,Ó Kate breathed.  ÒIÕve nicknamed it Nudie Nursery.Ó  
         ÒNaked games,Ó I whispered.  I remembered headlines from my 
childhood about satanic preschools, real and imagined.
         ÒHave you reported this to the authorities?Ó our lifeguard boyfriend 
asked Kate.  His name was Ray.
         Kate looked at Ray and turned and faced him.  Without even asking 
permission, she bent and yanked his swim trunks right down to his thighs.  
His cock sprang out.  It was as big as she and I had imagined.  It stuck out 
like a freed snake and we both stared at it.
         When Kate had recovered herself, she looked up at RayÕs eyes.  ÒAfter 
I see what allÕs down here, then maybe IÕll report it to the police,Ó she 
explained to him.
         ÒYeah,Ó Ray replied.  He was stunned that sheÕd been so bold as to 
yank down his swimsuit.  I could see where his tan line ended and his loins 
began.  It was amazing to see his huge erection just sticking out like that.  
Yet Kate and I were still in our bikinis, tiny as they were.  WeÕd given him 
nothing in return.
         Kate had a waifÕs body and beautifully long legs but I imagined sheÕd 
never make it big in modeling because her breasts were so large.  She 
looked up at Ray with her large, childish eyes and spoke to him very 
frankly.  ÒHoney,Ó she explained.  ÒI want to experiment with this stuff 
and I want to do it on you.  I hope youÕre willing.  I must admit that it will 
probably be kind of painful for you.  This stuff isnÕt just for pleasure, you 
know.Ó

                                              ZINE REVIEWS
                                                by holy joe

The MOOT Catalog no. 6.  Free.  8 1/2 x 11 inch flier.  Brian Kirk, Moot 
Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA  01108.  e-mail:  
mootcomics@aol.com    web:  http://www.the-spa.com/bear/moothome

         Review:  Do you like to draw?  Would you like to make your own 
comic books, and sell them through the mail?  If so, get this flier.  You can 
learn how to make a very inexpensive catalog of your own, by copying the 
layout ideas in this catalog.
         As for the comics themselves, try ordering a few comics out of this 
catalog.  Some comics are 50 cents.  Some are a dollar.  Many are only 25 
cents each, less than the price of a stamp!
         If youÕre not able to draw, but you still like art, this catalog is a 
very nice item to have.  Brian is quite a talented small press cartoonist.  
Whenever he releases a new catalog (this is number 6), he includes a new, 
one-page, multi-panel cartoon in it.  This issue features ÒThe Man with 
the Cape.Ó  He does battle against a bank robber armed with a Òcyclone 
machineÓ.
         Comics available from this catalog feature the following story 
ideas, among others:  ÒBott receives unwanted mail.Ó  ÒZipwadÕs Revenge.Ó  
ÒAsinine Head hits his stench quota.Ó  ÒAsinine Head has an oral accident.Ó
         Brian Kirk is one of AmericaÕs premier small press artists.  He is 
one of the very few artists who can tell a story.  Wondering what to do 
with your loose change?  Why not use it to acquire a treasure trove of late 
20th century art?  ItÕs common knowledge that, during his lifetime, Van 
GoghÕs paintings were available for a song.  Now that heÕs gone, they cost 
millions.
         Support the arts!  Buy a MOOT comic!

                                             AND IN THE END...

                                         WHATÕS YOUR STORY?

         ÒThis countryÕs been defined... through its fictionalization.Ó

- Actor Danny Glover


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-END OF 304 EMISSION
- Glover:  Charlie Rose, October 28, 1997.