Andrew Roller Presents
                                          FUCK DECENCY
                                           Issue No. 88

                              Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                          Erotic Estate

                                           Chapter One

         Lisa was led about some more, until she had met all the guests.  
About this time Debbie nudged Jeff and indicated that Mick might be home.  
         "Let's go check out the bar," Debbie said to Lisa in a tone that 
beseeched obedience.  The blonde was taken inside.  
         The air of the mansion felt cool against Lisa's skin after standing 
outdoors in the sun.  She wondered if she might not be able to put 
something on.  Through a series of rooms and halls she was led, until 
finally she entered upon the bar.  In the gloom of expensive bottles an 
older man sat smoking a cigarette.  He was dressed in a tux, and looked 
almost morose.  He was Mick, the mansion's owner.
         "Forgive us for intruding, but we've got a new guest we'd like you to 
meet," Debbie said to Mick.  The man looked up slowly.  Wordlessly he 
surveyed the nude trio before him, his eyes pausing disdainfully on Jeff's 
erect penis before passing on the the girls' delectable tits and pussies.
         "Yes, I should like to know who's drinking my wine," Mick said.
         "Or bathing in it?" Debbie asked.
         "Yes, if you wish," Mick replied.  "I could use some amusement."  His 
eyes travelled up and down Lisa's naked body.  He appeared to be drinking 
in her beauty.  At least this man was honest, not trying to hide his 
interests behind irrelevant small talk.
         "Let us have some rather expensive wine, this one is worth it," Mick 
said to Debbie.  Debbie left Lisa's side and began surveying the bottles, 
which lined all four walls of the room.  
         "Come on, these are for you," Debbie beckoned Lisa.  The blonde 
padded over to her friend, unsure of what was expected of her, or what 
events might unfold in this musty room.  Jeff joined the girls, stroking 
their bare backs as they examined the bottles.
         "What are we to do?" Lisa asked Debbie.
         "You're to pick out your favorite wine," Jeff said.
         "But I don't need a drink right now," Lisa said.
         "Well, I do," Mick piped up.  "Jeff, get me some more of that Chivas."
         "Yes, sir," Jeff said.  He left the girls and went to refill Mick's glass.  
Lisa got the sense from Debbie that Mick had called Jeff away to keep the 
boy from taking liberties with them.
         Soon several bottles had been selected.  Jeff popped open the first 
one and reached for the second.
         "Stand still," Debbie said to Lisa.  She picked up the first bottle and 
poured its contents over Lisa's pert mammaries.  
         "This is to take off the suds," Debbie said.  The suds were dry by 
now, and she pressed her palm to Lisa's breast and rubbed it as she poured 
wine over it.  Lisa, startled by this sudden development, looked back over 
her shoulder at Mick.  He smiled.
         Having opened all the bottles, Jeff took one and walked around to 
Lisa's behind.  He tilted his bottle forward and poured the red liquid onto 
Lisa's bottom, where it ran down the crack between her cheeks.  Lisa 
gasped and looked over her shoulder once more, but remained where she 
stood.
         "There aren't any soap suds on her bottom, silly," Debbie scolded 
Jeff.
         "That's not my fault," Jeff said.  "You were the one who wouldn't let 
her soap it."
         "Nice," Mick smiled at Jeff.  "I can think of no better bottom to 
receive such a tribute."  Lisa got the distinct impression that she was on 
display, but owing to the relative privacy of the situation and her 
closeness to two of the three people involved, she did not protest.
         As Debbie took a bottle to her pussy and Jeff began a second libation 
on her bottom, Lisa heard Mick unzipping his fly.  Despite the nakedness of 
Jeff's prick the sound of Mick undoing himself sent a thrill of fear through 
Lisa.  She shivered, sprinkling droplets of wine from the points of her 
teats.
         As the last of the bottles was emptied Lisa was invited to step  
from the puddle of wine at her feet.  Millicent knocked, was invited to 
enter, and trundled in with a mop in a wheeled bucket.  Millicent's little 
trolley had a pile of steaming hot towels on it, and Debbie and Jeff picked 
these up and began wiping down Lisa.  
         Moments later the scene of Lisa's baptism had been cleared of all 
evidence of the event.  The floor was mopped, Lisa herself was sparkling 
clean, with not a trace of wine upon her, and even the empty bottles had 
been taken out on Millicent's trolley.
         Mick, his penis arcing lewdly into the air, eyed Lisa and then 
addressed Debbie.
         "Perhaps Lisa would like to see the rest of the house?" Mick asked 
Debbie.
         "I'm sure she would, wouldn't you, Lisa?"  The proposed activity not 
seeming to contain anything objectionable, the blonde agreed.
         Lisa was led through room after room, each more magnificent than 
the last.  The blonde couldn't help but fantasize about being the lady of the 
house, the owner, through Mick, of all she saw.  She wondered if Mick was 
unmarried.  Lisa found herself eyeing Mick, assessing his body, wondering 
if his looks would satisfy her.  His face and prick certainly had nothing to 
dissuade her from accepting his bed.  Lisa wanted to propose that Mick get 
undressed like the rest of them but was embarrassed at her scheming.
         Lisa found herself in a bedroom adorned with Medieval weapons, 
among them an ominous Lochaber ax.  Everyone plopped down on the bed, 
and Lisa followed suit.  Mick, heretofore the perfect gentleman, reached 
over and clasped one of Lisa's breasts with his fingers.  
         "You are truly beautiful," Mick said reverentially.  
         "Thank you...sir," Lisa said, eyes wide and slightly downcast.  Mick 
smiled at her respect for him despite his advance.  
         "Can't keep your hands to yourself, eh?" Debbie said to Mick, draping 
her arms around his neck from behind.  Her fingers grazed the blouse of his 
tuxedo.  Mick dropped his hand from Lisa's breast.
         "Forgive my impulsiveness," He breathed.
         "I-It's O.K.," Lisa said.  This man was certainly more polite than the 
average college male.  
         To Lisa's surprise Debbie produced a pair of felt lined handcuffs and 
snapped them over Mick's wrists.  
         "My turn first, remember?" Debbie said to Mick.   As easily as he had 
let her cuff him he now allowed the brunette to remove him from the bed 
and lead him over to a dresser.  There a second pair of handcuffs lay upon 
the floor, one end cuffed to the leg of the heavy dresser.  Mick, standing, 
was made to bend over so that the free end of the cuffs clipped to the 
dresser could be snapped over the chain that ran between the cuffs that 
bound Mick's wrists.  Lisa noticed that the other front leg of the dresser 
was also equipped with a pair of handcuffs, one end clipped to the leg and 
the other laying open upon the rug. 

                                           Chapter Two

         Jeff sidled up to Lisa and stroked her blonde mane.  He blew in her 
ear.
         "Uh, uh, you too.  Get over here," Debbie commanded Jeff.  Reluctantly 
he left Lisa and hefted himself up from the bed and strode over to Debbie.  
He seized the brunette in his brawny arms.
         "I think I'd rather do you," Jeff said to Debbie.
         "Mick!  Jeff's not obeying!" Debbie cried.   Jeff laughed.
         "What can he do?" Jeff said.  Mick was bent over, his wrists affixed 
to the cuff that lay upon the floor, attached to the dresser.  Debbie 
whispered in Jeff's ear.
         "All right, all right," Jeff said.  He bent over next to Mick.  Debbie 
smiled at Lisa, then she knelt and bound her boyfriend with the cuffs,  
producing a second pair first to attach his wrists together.
         Debbie rose and surveyed the two men stooping before her.  She 
looked exhilarating in her nakedness, her auburn hair flowing back over her 
shoulders, her breasts upthrust and pert bottom ample but constrained in 
its width.  She reached down and took a birch rod from beneath a pile of 
clothes on a trunk.  Like an Amazon on the prowl she whipped the rod 
through the air, the stick making a whistling sound.
         "Care to do the honors?" Debbie smiled at Lisa.

                                        MUSIC REVIEWS
                                            by holy joe

         Perverts do not live by Porno alone!  They need music too.  Hence, 
these reviews.  Now, I should reveal a little about myself first.  (Damn.  
My zipperÕs stuck.)  I like Bush.  Recently I was talking to this guy whoÕs in 
his 20Õs, is married to a wife, has two daughters, and goes to work every 
(frigginÕ) day.  I mentioned ÒBushÓ and he said, ÒWhoÕs Bush?Ó  This was 
after the customary Ôhow does pubic hair apply to this conversation?Õ look 
that he gave me.  If you donÕt know who, or rather what, ÒBushÓ is, hereÕs 
some advice:  quit your job.  ditch your wife.  sell your daughters to 
ÒShowgirls.Ó  But, since you probably will prefer paying FICA taxes to 
having a life, IÕll start with a group youÕve probably heard of:  

Oingo Boingo, Farewell, $14.99

         Review:  This is a double-CD.  (IÕm actually listening to it on tape.  I 
donÕt own a CD player.  ThereÕs three of us left in the world; me, a guy in 
Bangladesh, and a prisoner in a Chinese labor camp.)  This tape was 
recorded live in 1995, on Halloween.  
         ItÕs total shit.  I mean, if you liked that crappy music in the 1980Õs, 
this is for you.  Also, if you like No Doubt or (god help you) Porno for 
Pyros, you might like corrupting yourself with Oingo Boingo too.
         I tried real hard to listen to this tape and give it an unbiased review.  
I got as far as ÒLetÕs Take the Whole Day Off.Ó  And I thought, LetÕs Take 
the Whole Tape Out.  So I did.  Now IÕm humming, LetÕs Throw the Whole 
Tape Out.
         But, you may ask, why did a modern perv like me buy this thing in the 
first place?  Because I wanted to listen to Oingo BoingoÕs version of ÒI am 
the Walrus.Ó  I finally did find that song on the tape, and it is really great.  
Unfortunately, Oingo Boingo plays about half the song and then switches to 
a ÒDay in the LifeÓ ascent into musical madness.  Then they go back to 
playing crappy shit that they wrote themselves.
         In my opinion, if Oingo Boingo wanted to put out a good album, they 
should just play their versions of all the (rock-oriented) Beatles songs.  
They did a really good job of updating ÒI am the Walrus,Ó and IÕd love to 
hear more.  But I donÕt need to hear any Ôoriginal Oingo BoingoÕ songs.  The 
music of the 80Õs was the worst in history, in my opinion, surpassed only 
by the (even worse) music of the 1970Õs.  
         Since my only qualification to comment on music consists of owning 
10,000 back issues of Playboy, let me now give advice to bands.  On the 
Oingo Boingo tape, the group begins their live concert by playing one song... 
and then another song... and then another song... (etc.)  This is very boring 
and if you are in a band you should not play a concert this way.  Later, with 
ÒI Am the Walrus,Ó Oingo Boingo slips into a much freer style of playing 
music.  And the crowd loves it.  HereÕs how you should play a concert if 
youÕre in a band.  DonÕt just play one song after another.  If weÕre at your 
concert, we probably own all your albums, and have heard them many 
times.  Use your playlist of songs as a kind of Ôrough guideÕ to the concert.  
Then weave your way anarchicly through the music, in a kind of ÔfreestyleÕ 
format.  This, in my opinion, would be much more exciting.  I still 
remember watching a Go GoÕs concert and the only truly great part of it 
was when the group, near the end of a song, broke free of it and 
improvised.  
         So, to summarize this long review:  DonÕt buy crappy 80Õs music, quit 
your present life if you donÕt know what ÒBushÓ is, and improvise when 
you play a concert live if youÕre in a band.  Next:  Advice for Hillary 
Clinton!

Republica, Republica, $8.44

         Review:  This is a somewhat Ôdance-orientedÕ CD.  I am noticing a 
trend to put a little disco back into modern music.  It began (as far as I 
can tell) with Primitive Radio Gods, and now Republica continues the 
trend.  
         Well, people like to dance, so IÕm not 100 percent opposed to this 
dance trend.  ItÕs sort of like women.  They should be young girls, but 
young girls get old, so what to do?  I mean, you could invite Dr. Kevorkian 
to expand his medical practice, but then weÕd have nobody to cook for us or 
send us to jail.  The one good thing I can say about this trend to put a 
dance beat into modern music is that it is, at least, much better ÔdiscoÕ 
type music than was being put out in the 1970Õs.  I like the Primitive 
Radio Gods album, despite its Ôdance orientation,Õ and I like Republica also.  
         This is probably a good album if you own a club and youÕre looking 
for music nobodyÕs heard to play in your club.  Republica is a brand new 
band, and the whole album is good, with a strong (fast) danceable beat to 
it.  
         I must admit I really love the Republica video, ÒReady to Go.Ó  If 
youÕre a 40-something yuppie female and you think youÕre going to 
dominate and control the world for the rest of eternity, the lead singer of 
Republica has a message for you.  But keep passing those laws, ladies!  IÕm 
sure all the men in the world will choose to bow down to you instead of 
responding to the Republica girlÕs siren call that sheÕs ÒReady to Go!Ó

Foo Fighters, Foo Fighters $10.44

         Review:  IÕve seen at least one of the videos these guys have put out, 
and boy, was it stupid!  So I figured the band must be stupid too.  But, in 
fact, this is not Paul McCartneyÕs Wings after the dissolution of the 
Beatles.  Foo Fighters is an excellent album.  It is, in effect, Nirvana 
without Kurt Cobain.  I do spend the whole album wishing KurtÕs insane 
voice was singing, but itÕs like watching Interview with the Vampire 
knowing the interviewer should have been played by River Phoenix.  You 
feel sad, but thereÕs nothing you can do about it.  So you try getting on 
with your life and enjoying whatever it is youÕre trying to enjoy.
         There may be a good reason Kurt Cobain is dead.  According to the 
faggy guy whoÕs the lead singer for REM, he and Kurt were going to put out 
an album that was intended to be Òvery soft and quiet.Ó  Let me tell you, if 
the next Nirvana album was going to be Òvery soft and quiet,Ó weÕre better 
off with Kurt dead.
         Except for the absence of Kurt, you can think of this Foo Fighters 
album as a direct continuation of Nirvana.  The music is tighter and faster 
and more professionally played.  On the other hand, itÕs less insane.  
         Running through this album is what must be Foo FightersÕ funeral 
hymn to Kurt.  There is a song that they play three times on this album, 
and each time it becomes more eerie.  In the third playing, which is my 
favorite, static practically consumes the entire song.  I very much enjoyed 
this experimentalism on the album.  Primitive Radio Gods, on their album, 
seems also to be experimenting, and if this is a new trend in music I 
welcome it.  The epitomy of 80Õs music was its tendency to be pre-
scripted, like wallpaper, with every (synthetic) note in its proper place.  
The 90Õs seems to be developing into a quite different decade:  strange, 
bizarre 60Õs style music that contains a good melody but also with a lot of 
experimentation.
         You have probably heard the first three songs on Foo FighterÕs album 
many, many times on the radio.  If you buy this album now, it will be a 
chore listening to those songs.  But once you get past the Ôoverplayed on 
radioÕ songs on this album, you will very much enjoy having bought it.  
There are a number of other quality songs on this album, plus some, like 
the static-laden Ôfuneral hymn to Kurt,Õ that no radio station would ever 
dare play.

Hole, Live Through This, $10.44

         Review:  When Kurt Cobain died, somebody signed his wifeÕs band to 
make records.  I thought, boy, what a bunch of dopes.  Just because Kurt 
was good doesnÕt mean his WIFE can play music!  Well, guess what?  The 
Ôhole ladyÕ (I can never remember her damn name) may be an even better 
musician than Kurt himself!  I consider the Ôhole ladyÕ to be the goddess of 
modern rock.  She really knows how to belt out compelling, insane music.  
My favorite types of songs are where the singer screams.  And this lady 
can scream.  I annoyed my neighbors by playing NirvanaÕs first album real 
loud, and IÕm looking forward to blasting their asses with Hole too!

                                JUMBO JOEÕS ADVICE COLUMN
                  Practical Answers to your Practical Problems

         a@net.net (Hawk) writes:  ÒI have had this fantasy of tongue fucking 
a teen boy's ass.  I never did this before and wondered if anyone could tell 
me how it tasted the first time.  I see lots of porno movies with ass 
eating and it looks like the giver and receiver are enjoying themselves.  Is 
there any chance of getting sick?  I find it a real turn on and want to 
plunge my tongue in a guy's asshole to try it!Ó         

         Jumbo Joe replies:  Well, what you do is you wait until your 
boyfriend has taken a big shit.  Then you tell him, ÒDonÕt wipe!  IÕll do it 
FOR you, with my tongue!Ó  It is really fun.  
         Another fun thing is to have your boyfriend shit out a big log for you.  
Then pack it in your lunchbucket and take it to work with you.  The 
construction dudes where I work are amazed when they see me unwrap my 
lunch...and itÕs a giant turd!  I put lots of mustard and ketchup on it and 
then I see if I can swallow the whole thing in one big gulp!  (Then I go to 
the 7/11 and buy a Big Gulp, heh heh, to wash it down.)
         Lately, I have been getting a little kinky.  I go into restrooms and 
look for toilets that someone forgot to flush.  THEN I have a really big 
feast!  Imagine, a whole toilet full of turds.  I have no idea why anybody 
ever invented a flusher for the toilet.  To me, it just spoils the fun!

                                        AND IN THE END...

         ÒAnd what was once the dreaded military headquarters is now the 
Ministry of WomenÕs Affairs.Ó - The Economist, July 27th, 1996, pg. 38.

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-END OF 88 EMISSION