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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 280 Bush League (nnd) g2
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THIS IS AN ATTEMPT TO COLLECT A DEBT
*******************************************************
This product is not freeware. Your continued use of my
shareware product signifies your agreement to the full and complete
terms of the Licensing Agreement. The ‘tryout’ time for this product
has now expired.
*******************************************************
A Message from the Creator:
Greetings! I am now charging for this product. I realize you
may have thought my creation was freeware, but it is not.
Let me explain. I run a lab. It costs a lot to run my lab.
In my lab, I create new universes. One of them is what you may be
referring to, hopefully colloquially, as “your” universe. But in fact
it is my universe, and I expect full payment for it.
Do you want a description of your birth? Okay, I’ll give it.
At my end, in my universe, all I saw was a puff of X-Rays when ‘your’
universe was created. Then the wormhole connecting ‘your’ universe with
mine abruptly closed. (This is standard operating procedure for the
creation of any new universe.)
While I puttered about in my lab, ‘your’ universe was rapidly
expanding. Then the rate of expansion slowed and ‘your’ universe became
the universe you know today. I hope you like it.
Anyway, I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to respond to my
bill. I sent one about five billion years after the creation of ‘your’
universe, but I got no response. So I waited another five billion
years. Still nothing. I realize some species are a little slower than
others, but I am beginning to think you’re just refusing to acknowledge
my requests for payment. I first began feeling this way about four
million years ago. I sent my bill (again), and this time I got
something back. But it was a banana peel!
So I am contacting you again. A year ago I sent a film that I
HOPED would inspire you to pay me. It was called “Independence Day.”
Perhaps you found it instructive.
Actually, though, my preferred method of dealing with my new
users is through the ‘try before you buy’ program. If you don’t like
‘your’ universe, simply delete it and yourself out of existence.
I must warn you that, despite my generosity, I have taken some
steps to protect my rights. ‘Your’ sun is programmed to blow up in five
billion years. If you don’t pay me by then, you’re going to have a lot
of roasted marshmallows in your stores, let me assure you. Also, I
pre-programmed an ability on your part to build thermonuclear weapons.
So don’t just say, “Ah, five billion years. That’s a long time. Fuck
him.” You may have considerably less time than five billion years to
pay me once nuclear technology spreads into the hands of people like
Muammar Qadaffy. I have other collection agents besides him too.
‘Workfare, not welfare,’ is my motto. Perhaps you thought you
could just sit on your ass in ‘your’ universe and enjoy it. And not pay
for it. But I had to work to create you and I expect you to work too.
You will feel happier about yourself when you are paying your own way
and not just living off somebody else’s efforts for free.
Thank you for your consideration in this matter.
THIS IS AN ATTEMPT TO COLLECT A DEBT
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 280
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Five
...“Bend over, silly. Do you think I want you to moon me?” I
told her. She leaned forward after a moment’s hesitation and put both
her hands on the coffee table.
“I- I think I’m going to fart, ma’am,” Kelly told me. And she
did. Just like that. Right into my face. “I’m sorry!” she quickly
apologized. Dawn and I held our noses.
“That wasn’t polite, Kelly,” I said. I gave her a swift crack
of my crop right on my heinie.
“Please, Fleury!” Kelly moaned. She raised up on her toes. A
bright red mark appeared on her bottom.
“Don’t stand with your legs so tightly together,” I told her.
“How do you expect John to get his thing up you? I expect you’ll be
tight enough as it is, without you clipping your legs together.” I gave
her another swat with my crop. She let out a sighing hiss through
clenched teeth and raised up on her tippie toes again. When she’d
recovered she parted her legs as wide as she could.
“There, John, she’s all ready, oiled and everything,” I told
him. He presented his cock to her.
“Don’t hit me,” he said. His rump was in my face now, hairy
and wonderful with its crack running the length of it, tensing as he
began his entry.
“Yes, John, to keep you going,” I replied. “But get yourself
up her first. Right up, John. I know she’s tight, but you can manage
it.” I gave him a little admonitory crack to encourage his compliance.
“Dawn, I want you to put that pretty little mouth of yours to
work,” I said to the girl beside me. Despite her innocent-looking
pigtails I put a hand to the back of her head and arched my hips forward
on the couch and drew her mouth down to my pussy. I thought she would
resist. But, perhaps fearing my crop, she began lapping at my cunny
like a fawn bending to lap at a stream. I shivered. She was so soft,
so compliant. I tickled her boobies. They hung just off my thigh,
scraping the couch a little as she bent to her work. I pinched them.
Dawn sighed a moany complaint but did not stop licking me.
I inhaled the musky scent from Phil’s wonderful ass as he
sweated and got himself up inside Kelly. “Okay, I’m ready,” he told me
at last. Did he wish to be whipped? I did not bother to ask. I drew
my hand back and, admiring his clenching buttocks for a moment, I let
fly with the crop.
“Yeeeow!” Phil howled. Kelly bounced as his cock rammed even
deeper into her, driven by the whack from my crop. She moaned loudly.
I swung again.
“Ram her, baby!” I told Phil. My own voice was breathy from
Kelly’s lickings. Nonetheless, despite an increasingly unsteady hand as
my own orgasm mounted, I set about flaying Phil’s bottom. Each stroke
made a new red mark. He shunted himself up and back within Kelly. She
screeched at the depth of his assault. I think he was pounding her more
deeply than any man ever had. She tried to rise to lessen the depth of
his poundings but he forced her down, then down more, until her face was
flat against the coffee table.
----------------------------------------------------------------
A R E A D I N G F U N D has been established for Stephen Knox,
imprisoned in a federal penitentiary for ordering a swimsuit video
featuring teenage girls. To help provide books to Knox (formerly a Phd.
candidate at Penn State), send any amount to: Uncommon Desires
Newsletter, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY 10185. Make checks payable to:
Ophelia Editions.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Polly, meanwhile, had been rigged up in the bed so that her
bottom rested on a bolster, while her arms lay tied uselessly underneath
her. Her 13-year-old breasts offered themselves on her chest like ripe
cherries. Her legs were drawn apart and tied off to the ends of the
bed. Gwen, who had been mouthing her pussy, had been replaced by Jill.
Polly seemed not the least interested in having women invade her cunny
with their tongues but she was helpless to do anything about it. She
screamed and moaned and protested and, not coincidentally, cried out as
an orgasm seized her, followed closely behind by another. Rose promised
her that after all the women had enjoyed her, the men would too. Polly
sobbed but I knew that somewhere, deep down, she’d find she enjoyed it
all. At least I hoped she would.
John spent inside Kelly. I drew him out. I removed his condom
as Kelly stood and straightened her apron and her maid’s hat. I lifted
Dawn’s lips from my pussy and emptied John’s condom into her mouth.
“There, little baby, a treat for your hungry tummy,” I told her. She
wanted to protest, I think, but knew better and let me empty all of
John’s seed into her. I made her swallow it. There was a little that
had fallen on her nose and I kissed it away.
“Kelly, now that you’ve been fucked you must go back to your
maid duties,” I told her. “Do them properly or I’ll have you over my
knee with my crop teaching you manners.” She curtsied.
“Yes,m,” she replied. Immediately she left my presence,
happily, I’m quite sure, walking a little awkwardly because of her
fucking by John. I watched her bottom. It jiggled nakedly, with two
stripes laid on it from my crop. She got a tray of drinks, brought up
meantime by Maria, and offered them about. Nobody seemed much
interested in them at the moment, although Rose took one and thanked her
and examined her bottom briefly, to see her new marks.
“I see Fleury is doing just as I trained her,” Rose said.
“Good. And Maria is helping you too. Keep up the good work, Kelly.
I’ll make you domme someday, if I can ever get over seeing how cute you
look in that maid’s hat!”
I put Dawn in place of Kelly over the coffee table. I didn’t
bother to put a new condom on John. He did it himself, growing
(literally) expectant at the sight of Dawn made ready for him.
“Dawn, I’m going to give you just a little spanking to make you
weepy and to make John big and hard,” I told her.
“Okay,” she lisped. She was so nice. She let me do anything I
wanted. She had an absolutely adorable bottom. It was high and firm
and I knew it would bounce very sweetly when I laid the crop across it.
It matched her schoolgirl pigtails perfectly. I drew my crop back and
let it fly.
“Oh!” Dawn shouted. I don’t know if she’d ever been whipped
before. I gave her another before she could try to clap her hands over
her bottom.
“Oh! Oh!” she cried out again. I found myself so entranced by her
shocked response that I let three more swift cracks fly. Then John,
who’d grown massively hard in just seconds of watching, got in my way,
and my next strike, aimed at Dawn, hit him instead! He was oblivious to
the pain.
And so it proceeded. Rising up after hitting John very hard
several times, which did nothing to interrupt his fucking of Dawn, he
was so eager, I proceeded around the room. I found my friends utterly
entranced with each other. Their nude bodies hugged each other and the
females eagerly found themselves impaled upon their newly-met boyfriends
of the moment. I dished out a crack here and there with my crop.
Female bottoms felt me, and male ones, I hit a few tummies and whacked
some thighs. Nobody seemed to notice, except to cry out and keep
fucking. Even little Polly, when I bounced the crop off her tummy, only
howled and arched her pussy more so Phil, who now tongued her, could
fuck her more deeply.
The long hours of the day passed quickly by. There was no
abatement of the fucking. When cocks were spent I insisted, with Rose’s
help, that hands and mouths and even feet be used instead. Drinks were
passed around by Kelly to keep everyone in a sprightly mood. As evening
settled and the room grew dark Kelly lit oil lamps to give everyone just
enough light to see by, so they could tell whether it was the female
Dawn or Jill or Gwen, or some other female, who lay moaning underneath
them or riding atop them.
As the night wore on and spirits flagged I used my crop to
inspire new emotion. I did not spare anyone. Even Rose found herself
upended on the bed, with her bottom high and her face pressed into the
pillows, with me flaying away on her to make her feel something,
anything, be it passion or pathos.
What a sight we were the next morning when we shambled, like
walking wounded, into the parlor to retrieve our swimsuits. Maria was
there, tidying up, and we came like dead from the morgue into her
presence. All of us, even me, bore weals from the crop. Our neatly
tanned limbs were marked and tired. My breasts felt like leaden weights
on my chest, although still perched high and lovely. I had hickeys on
them, as did most of the other girls. There were pinch marks on my
bottom, not to mention the marks left by the crop. My pussy felt like
it would complain just from being touched by my swimsuit. I bent and
picked up my panties and tied them on with weary fingers. The suit did
feel abrasive against me. I wanted no more touchings, or fuckings, or
even kisses from heartfelt lovers. The men were no better off. Their
cocks, so hugely hard the morning before, could have passed for baby’s
penises now, or old men’s. We’d made sure they were completely empty
before we let them come down. Even Andre, who in his youth had made a
last minute stand for maleness, had been vigorously pumped off right at
the top of the steps, with us girls kneeling to receive the last of his
tribute.
Sperm slathered my thighs and was caked around my mouth. The
men put on their suits and found that they fitted quite well, thank you,
with plenty of room in front, at least until nightfall. Our guests
departed. I think we wanted to give each other final kisses but we were
all too tired. In my sleepiness I found Polly, who I’d spanked fiercely
upstairs, putting her hand into mine.
“I’m sleepy,” she said. She wanted me to accompany her
upstairs. Other guests might encounter her and, not knowing her
condition, might try to rape her.
“You’re not mad at me for spanking you?” I asked her. She felt
her bottom.
“It’s very sore,” Polly said to me. “But I still hate you.”
“You STILL hate me?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m too little to be here but you made me come anyway,”
Polly said. “So I hate you. But tuck me in bed anyway. And read me a
story too.”
“I can’t read you a story. I’m dead,” I said to her. Despite
her sleepiness she drew her hand back and, although she’d not struck me
upstairs in the tower, always finding herself in the role of prisoner,
she whacked me hard on my bottom.
“Yeeeoch!” I shouted. I threw my hips forward and felt my
boobs shake.
“Story!” Polly yelled.
“Come on, I’ll throw you out the window if you do that again,”
I said to her. I marched her upstairs and took her to her bed and put
her in it. Drawing up the covers, I kissed her nose. “Can I sleep with
you?” I asked. “I’m too tired to go to my own room.” My legs, okay a
moment before, felt as if they were about to buckle.
“Mmmm, whatever,” Polly said. She kissed me back. I yanked
down her covers and slithered in beside her. I was greedy for sleep. I
embraced her, she was asleep already. I fell asleep with my face on her
bosom. Rose, I think, came in later, and drew our covers up.
Chapter Six
I hiked up the steep cliffside. My legs were not what they’d
once been. The road was gone. My lungs hurt in my chest. The gulls,
sweeping over the cliffside, monitored our progress. Maria, stalwart as
ever, but looking much older now, walked ahead of me. I could hear the
coins I’d paid her jingling in her purse that was strapped round her
waist. She wore even more clothes now than when I’d known her in my
youth. I wore a simple dress, plus heavy socks and shoes for hiking.
The wind made my dress flap round my legs. I pushed at the crumbling
dirt with the stick in my hand.
Maria said nothing, leaving me to my memories. I looked up
over the top of the cliff as we rose to its summit. There were no
vine-covered spires. Another few steps and I saw there was nothing but
an arid, wind-swept plain, with a small jumble of rocks lying where the
castle with the unspeakable name had once been.
“What happened to it?” I asked. But she did not have to tell
me. It was the reason we’d come by boat. Gold had been found, by one
of the laborers, out in the field one day, as he sweated under the hot
sun. The government had nationalized the property. In the distance I
could hear the chain gangs working in the open pit mine, prison labor.
Already they had gouged out the earth right down to the sea, splitting
the place where the castle had been away from the mainland. A small
channel of water cut between it and the open pit mine now, leaving it
all alone, though destroyed by the 30 years of blasting that had
trembled across this place.
There was a rumble. I looked up. In the distance, a plume of
brown dirt rose up. More blasting. They were having trouble finding
gold these days and the government was apparently getting more
desperate. Engineers predicted that diamonds might be found if the
government blasted down deep enough. They dug new holes and deeper
holes, all part of an octopus of expanding interconnected open-pit
mines. The sea, though, kept flooding into their pit, bubbling up from
below somehow so that it had to be pumped out by pumps that belched up
oil-coated smoke.
AND IN THE END...
“The Internet is the common heritage of all humankind.”
- Lawrence Ellison
Founder & CEO, Oracle Co.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-END OF 280 EMISSION
- Ellison: Charlie Rose, June 1997.
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