Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 53 ------------------------------------------------------------- Now available! PRETTY BABY 2 -- The Adventures of VioletÕs Younger Sister! Call (insert your teacherÕs name and number here!) ------------------------------------------------------------- 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