Andrew Roller Presents
                                          FUCK DECENCY
                                           Issue No. 53

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Now available!  PRETTY BABY 2 -- The Adventures of VioletÕs Younger 
Sister!  Call (insert your teacherÕs name and number here!)
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                              Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                           Desire Isle

                                          Chapter Two

         Gwendolyn presented a fur coat to Kimberly and wrapped her in it.  
Then she put on a fur herself.  There were no more.  "Melanie, you and David 
are out of luck, I'm afraid," Gwendolyn said.  "But there are three pairs of 
fur boots here.  David, be a gentleman and put these on Melanie."  The 
blonde might have spoken up but a love of David caught hold of her mind.  
She almost wanted to be naked for this!  David took a pair of fur boots 
from Gwendolyn and passed a hand over their tufted surface.  They were 
brand new and, somehow, looked just the right size for her, Melanie 
thought.  
         "These will protect your feet from the snow," Gwendolyn said to 
Kimberly, shoeing her in a pair of boots of her own.  At the same instant 
David leaned forward, chest muscles bulging, and offered a boot to 
Melanie.  Gingerly, ladylike, Melanie offered a small foot.  David sheathed 
her.  The boot ran all the way up to her knee.  A second followed.  Beyond, 
Kimberly in turn booted Gwendolyn.
         "Help Melanie out of the car, David," Gwendolyn instructed.  David 
considered Gwendolyn's sentence a moment, digesting it through the filter 
of his foreign mind.  Then he nodded, and firmly grasped Melanie's forearm.  
Melanie realized they must be at Gwendolyn's chateau.  She hoped the walk 
to the front door would be short.  She peered out the limo's window, but 
the virtual storm outside obscured all.  She realized she didn't even know 
where she was, and would need instructions from Gwendolyn if ever she 
were to return to her hotel.  She hoped Gwendolyn would finish clothing 
them and bundle them back home quickly.
         Outside Melanie could see no lights.  Only a fencepost, its barbed 
wire coils long since shorn away and buried under the snow.  This seemed 
a desolate land.  Nobody had passed them either way all along the road, so 
far as Melanie could remember.
         "Bind her to the post," Melanie heard Gwendolyn say behind her.  The 
command came as a shock.  Melanie made to turn but felt David grip her 
firmly.  She was pushed forward, her booted feet crunching on the snow, 
then sinking deeper as she was led down the road's slightly curving 
shoulder.  Behind her the limo's side door still stood open, exuding a 
warmth that she was now too far away to feel.  
         Melanie was in snow as high as the midpoint of her calves when 
David lifted her wrists and pressed them against the rough hewn post.  
Melanie prayed no splinters punctured her.  She kept the rest of her body 
away from the post, David seemed not to mind.  With shivering hands, 
snorting like a horse in heat, David produced a fibrous rope from 
somewhere and quickly bound Melanie's wrists to the post.  Melanie began 
to shake with the cold.  At first the warmth of the limo had still lingered 
on her skin, but now it was rapidly departing.  She felt the wind nip at her 
every succulent crevice.  Would more than that soon touch her her flesh?
         "Gwendolyn!" Melanie cried out.  She turned her blonde head to see 
two furred figured standing just beyond.  Below their knees would have 
extended bare legs, save for the boots they wore.  Melanie could barely see 
their faces.  "Kimberly, help me!" Melanie cried.  She heard an impish 
giggle.
         "Are you cold, darling?" Gwendolyn asked.  David slipped away, his 
job done.  He retreated to the womb-like limo.
         "Y-y-yes," Melanie chattered.  Her whole body seemed mummified by 
the cold now.  She wanted to cry, but feared icicles on her face.  "What are 
you doing?" Melanie screamed.  Her voice merged with the wind.  She 
prayed they would not leave her here.  Surely this must be some lurid 
joke?  Kimberly should not participate in such a dangerous farce.  Melanie 
would put the girl over her knee and spank her at the first opportunity.
         "I think your bottom will not be cold for long, at least," Gwendolyn 
called through the storm.  Her head tilted to Kimberly and Melanie saw her 
whisper to the girl.  Perhaps they were just talking normally, the wind 
blocked out all.  Kimberly strode forward.  In the darkness formed round 
her face by her hood Melanie thought she saw two eyes gleaming, 
mischievously.
         "Gwen says I should whip you, for practice," Kimberly explained.  Her 
crop swung through the air, hitting snowflakes.
         "You bitch!  Get me free from this!" Melanie swore, tugging at the 
ropes which held her fast to the stiff post.  She liked swearing not in the 
least, but if any situation were appropriate for it, this one was.
         "Only a few swats, I promise," Kimberly said not all too 
convincingly.  She drew back her new crop and brought it in against 
Melanie's bottom; swooshing through the air it came, then landing with a 
loud, biting CRAAAK!
         "Yeeow!" Melanie danced in the snow, her feet unable to rise from the 
thick white powder that suddenly served to imprison them.  Melanie's 
reaction had been delayed a moment, thanks to the extreme cold, she had 
thought for a few seconds that somehow God had spared her the hurt of the 
rod.  But then, searing like a hot iron, the crop had made itself felt.  
Melanie tugged once more at the ropes round her hands.  She was captured, 
imprisoned, both at her hands and feet.  Her legs were even a good 18 
inches apart, so off guard had she been caught by these new 
circumstances.  Try as she might, she could not wrest her feet from the 
deep packed snow.  She was helpless, and pray to her own best friend 
which now held a crop just inches from her heinie.
         "Remember when you wouldn't let me talk to that guy because you 
thought he was too old for me?" Kimberly cried across what seemed like 
furlongs of snow, but was little more than a foot.
         WHACK! came the crop again, once more making Melanie dance.  Dear 
God!  The girl was bringing up long lost injustices from their childhood!  If 
Kimberly remembered every one Melanie would not get off with less than a 
hundred lashes!
         CRACK! and WHACK! came the crop twice more, searing across the 
whiteness of Melanie heinie, leaving bright red lines in its wake.
         "Stop it!  Kimberlyyy!" Melanie begged, tears mutinously coming to 
her eyes.  She hoped, foolishly perhaps, that they might freeze right in the 
sockets, so as not to show Kimberly the extent of her hurt.
         WHACK! and WHACK! and WHACK! came the crop, as if to drive Melanie 
forward that she might uproot the very post she was tied to.  Horses were 
sometimes used in this way, beaten with the rod until the uprooted a tree 
stump.  Melanie could only dance and writhe in reply, her tender bottom 
jiggling.  Her hips were impelled forward with each blow, however, but 
then her bottom cheeks sprang back just as quickly, as if to ask for 
another hit.
         "That is enough, Kimberly, we do not wish to harm your friend, 
merely to provide her with an incentive to better control herself should 
she duel ever again with feathers," Gwendolyn said, coming forward.  She 
reached out and stayed Kimberly's hand.  David, as if on cue, sprang from 
the limo and hurried down the sloping bank along the road.  Melanie tugged 
at her bonds as David undid her ropes.  A moment later and she was free.  
Her hands flew to her bottom.  It stung at her touch.  Just as quickly, she 
brought her arms forward and wrapped them round her freezing bosoms.  
Gwendolyn grasped her by the hair, David by her shoulders.  With the force 
of David's hands providing the primary force, she was wrested from the 
snowbank into which her feet had sunk.  A moment later and the door of 
the limo loomed.  She was pressed inside and David leapt in behind her and 
slammed shut the door.
         Gwendolyn and Kimberly entered from the opposite side of the limo.  
They settled beside Melanie, faces bright.  Melanie huddled on the seat, 
face downcast, arms round her tits, bottom seemingly burning a pattern 
into the leather covering on which it was perched.  "Kimberly, take off 
your coat and loan it to your friend.  She must not be allowed to catch 
cold," Gwendolyn said in an instructional voice, as if teaching manners.
         "Yes'm," Kimberly replied, and pulled the fur garment off her little 
body.  Carefully, as if robing a favorite doll, she put it over Melanie's 
shoulders.  Melanie cared not to sluice her arms down the arms of the coat.  
She wore it as a shawl, snivelling in her pain and embarrassment at the 
cropping she had received.  The limo drew away from the roadside and 
headed down the highway.

                                              Chapter Three

         That nobody suggested the furs be employed to obtain a key from the 
front desk of Melanie and Kimberly's hotel was not surprising.  David 
surely would not suggest such a thing, even with his limited English, for it 
might take the twin young female guests from him.  Gwendolyn seemed 
delighted with her newfound charges, and surely money could not buy her 
such wonderfully innocent playthings no matter how much she might be 
willing to spend.  Kimberly was entirely under the Svengali-like influence 
of Gwendolyn, mistaking her newfound power over her older friend as a 
permanent grant.  Melanie was too shocked by what she had undergone to 
voice any comment whatever.  She merely sat sniveling on the bench seat, 
huddled over, wrapped in the enfolding warmth of Gwendolyn's expensive 
fur, on "loan" from Kimberly.  Naked Kimberly sat beside her, attempting to 
soothe her by stroking her hair, the crop still held lightly in her other 
hand.
         A bit later the driver's voice crackled through the handset mounted 
on the front wall.  In French he announced their arrival at Gwendolyn's 
chateau.  Melanie did not look up.  She clutched her fur about her now, 
swearing to never go naked again.  It was still worn like a shawl about her 
shoulders, however.  David tugged at the coat.  Melanie gripped it tighter, 
sworn never to release it.  
         "Do not pull overmuch on Melanie's coat, David, I fear you may break 
one of her nails," came Gwendolyn's soft voice to Melanie's ears.  Melanie 
almost gave a start.  Who was this strange, beautiful, bewitching woman, 
who would tie her to a fencepost in a snowstorm and whip her but yet fear 
to break even one of Melanie's fingernails?  Melanie felt Gwendolyn's 
amazing words imbue a sense of docility in her.  Without releasing the 
coat, she allowed David to urge her from the limousine.
         Once more Melanie's feet hit the snow.  It was thin here, as if 
recently swept.  It puffed in little powdery balls as her toes kicked 
through it.  David's arm, protectively, surmounted her shoulders.  Her fur 
lined shoulders.  He led her toward a lighted entryway through endless 
swirls of snow.  Behind her Kimberly complained of the cold.  She was 
naked.  She heard Kimberly press close to Gwendolyn for comfort.
         Melville apparently served as both driver and butler.  His senile form 
lurched inside the chateau just behind the twin couples.  Slowly 
Gwendolyn unfolded Kimberly.  There was snow upon Kimberly's bare 
bosoms.  Gwendolyn swept it off with her hands.  
         Reluctantly David unbound Melanie from her grasp.  She did not 
acknowledge him.  Still the fur clung to her.  It would save her from any 
future whippings Gwendolyn and Kimberly might have in store for her.
         "Come," Gwendolyn beckoned the foursome.  "We must warm 
ourselves."  Melville, apparently knowing his aged rod was not wanted, did 
not follow.  He would get his spanking later, no doubt, in private.  Where 
his ancient spendings could not seem ridiculous before the fires of youth.  
Melanie glanced at David.  There was still snow on his shoulders, his 
chest, even the uppermost swell of his buttocks.  Nobody had bothered to 
brush it off.  Sympathetically, Melanie extended a hand as they walked.  
She brushed frozen water from his broad clavicles.  He looked at her, 
surprised.  Something in her manner told him not to advantage himself by 
her care.  He walked on as her hand flitted over his chest, burnishing it as 
she brushed its taut, sinewed surface.  Then on to a smattering of 
snowflakes on his tummy, his upper arms and, lastly, the cheeks of his 
bottom.  David looked hopefully at Melanie at this but she then withdrew 
her hand and hid it once more in her fur.  She drifted from him, putting 
another foot between them.  There was snow on the upthrust spire of his 
penis but that she dared not touch.

                                             HOLY JOEÕS AUCTION
                                          Own a Piece of the Perv!

         I realize IÕm not real famous yet, but youÕve heard the saying Òbuy 
low, sell high.Ó  This is your chance to buy low.  In November, when 
America wakes up to find that all of you have written in my name for 
President, think of how much my stuff will be worth!  (And now youÕll have 
an incentive to write my name in, to make what youÕve bought worth more 
than you bought it for!)  
         DonÕt worry, I wonÕt be a Ôno nameÕ president, the kind nobody ever 
remembers.  I plan to launch all of AmericaÕs nuclear missiles the first 
day I take office!  It will be for a good cause, too.  What is the greatest 
threat facing America today?  Child molesters.  Like everyone says, ÒChild 
molesters, theyÕre the worst!Ó  So I plan to launch our entire nuclear 
missile fleet against all those child molesters out there.  It will save us 
missile upkeep costs, police costs, prison costs, and there will be not one 
writ of habeas corpus filed either.  
         Here is my list of Famous Items Owned by Holy Joe:

Bud can - ÔThe king of beers, owned by the king of queers.Õ  (Well, IÕm not 
officially queer, but if you like I could start up a boyscout troop or 
something.)  Yours for only $100.  (Please state quantity desired.  I can 
always drink more!)

Toilet paper - I actually wiped with this stuff so you can use it for DNA 
testing if you think IÕve been in your neighborhood recently.  The shit is 
dried so it should be easy to mail.  If you like IÕll write ÒDrugs enclosedÓ 
on the package and we can both have a laugh when some postal inspector 
opens it!  Sent to you for $400.

Condoms - I actually have no use for these, but if you like I could wear one 
the next time I read Penthouse!  Yours for only $300.  (With sperm $500).

Toilet seat - IÕve peed on this a lot already, so its available right away for 
only $1000.

Arrest Warrant - Available only if youÕre NOT a cop!  I pretended to be my 
grandmother when they came by, so they left it with me to serve on 
myself when I came home.  Yours for $1,500.

Porno - IÕve whacked off over some of these tapes so many times theyÕre 
starting to get grainy, so I guess itÕs time to say goodbye.  $2,000 gets 
you one of my all time favorite tapes!       

Vomit bag - Somebody wrote me, ÔI read NND with a vomit bag!Õ  Well, now 
you can read NND with the one and only official holy joe vomit bag!  I 
threw up in this last year and forgot to throw it out.  Now it can be yours 
forever for only $3,000.

         I know itÕs against Usenet policy to sell stuff, but I donÕt consider 
this capitalism.  I see this as living history!  DonÕt be the last person on 
your block to lay claim to the legend of holy joe.  Order today!  1-800-
PERVERT. 

                                                 REVIEWS
                                               by holy joe

                                           PERVERT ALERT!
                         Brand-New, Super-Hot Girlie Magazines
             (I embarrass myself at Waldenbooks so you wonÕt have to!)

PlayboyÕs Book of Lingerie, May/June 1996, $6.95
         Review:  Yes, the price went up a dollar, but who cares?  Lots of 
luscious babes and fantasy poses in this one.

Penthouse Letters, June 1996, $5.50
         Review:  The cover alone is worth the price of this issue.  For once, 
though, the inside photos are great too!  I cannot believe how marvelous 
this issue is, considering that Penthouse Letters has a reputation for 
being a ÔripoffÕ magazine.  Guccione even went back to using high quality 
paper throughout the magazine.  And the photos are bright and colorful too, 
unlike his May 1996 Erotica issue.  (And they arenÕt Ôstarkly brightÕ as IÕve 
seen recently in some of his issues.)  
         Recently Guccione was on Charlie Rose complaining that he is losing 
money.  (Due to an ill-fated gambling venture in Atlantic City, and 
declining sales of Penthouse.)  Well, Mr. Guccione, in my opinion QUALITY 
will always sell, and in great quantity.  The problem is, you have a history 
of putting out magazines that lack quality (plus, admittedly, some good 
stuff).  Low quality, unimaginative material poorly printed on substandard 
paper will always lose money.  Fortunately, you seem to have gotten your 
act together here.  Congratulations!

The Girls of Penthouse, June 1996, $5.50.
         Review:  What a bargain!  Every great Penthouse pictorial ever made 
(involving two girls and one guy) is printed in this single issue.  There are 
even pictorials in here from way back in the olden days, but they are just 
as juicy as the modern material.  A glorious collection, not to be missed!

         I found all of the above issues at Waldenbooks, although some 
branches carry them and some donÕt.  Hopefully you will be able to avoid 
that cesspool of grungy magazines and shitty service, known as Tower 
Books.  (I always have to wash my hands when IÕm done browsing there!)  
DonÕt forget:  Waldenbooks has a discount card available.  With it, itÕs 
harder for the cashiers to treat you like a pervert at the register.  
(Although, with my premature ejaculation problem, I do still get some odd 
stares.)  Eventually, with the card, youÕll get a $5.00 off coupon in the 
mail.  I would mention that there are more cute little girls at Waldenbooks 
than at Tower, but that would be an indecent comment, so I wonÕt.  

                                          AND IN THE END...

                                 THE TRIUMPH OF FEMINISM!

         ÒThe innocent-schoolgirl type can easily command more than $1,000 
a night for a date and sex and still get home in time for lights-out.  These 
are middle-class girls from good schools.  ...The high school girls are as 
eager for anonymous companionship as the men are for a sexual thrill.Ó - 
Time, April 22, 1996.

----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions:  send (18 or up) age 
statement to:  roller666@aol.com
-My ftp site is:  members.aol.com/roller666  NEW stories there now!
-My ftp site is:  members.aol.com/roller6666
-(Both sites contain different stories)
-Back issues at Usenet newsgroup:  alt.poop?
-or send e-mail to: file.archives@backdrop.com  
-Free minicomics:  send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age 
statement to:  Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 U.S.A.  
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is 
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-NNDÕs favorite ftp site:  members.aol.com/fm99999    
-END OF 53 EMISSION