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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 362 Passions Playpen NND g2
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In this issue: GIRLS and WAR
(what more could you ask for?)
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Hamilton? Sturges?
http://www.amazon.com
Issue No. 362
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter One
“Very good,” Maria said. She touched a finger to Kate’s throat
and briefly kissed her lips, as if to reward her for a job well done.
Then she reached back and untied the ribbon that held Kate’s hair in a
pony tail. “You have lovely hair,” Maria complimented the girl. She
fanned it out on her hands and then fluffed Kate’s hair so that Kate
felt like a pretty doll being prepared for a wedding.
Still wearing her blouse, whose tail was fashionably short so
that it didn’t cover an inch of her bottom, with her vest tightly around
her body but hiding nothing, Kate was walked to a corner and faced into
it.
“You must not watch us undress, dear,” Maria said simply.
Behind herself Kate heard a shucking off of clothing. Even as she heard
this she was shocked to hear the doorbell ring, and more guests arrive.
She bit her lip and trembled as, facing the wall, she heard these new
guests welcomed with soft hellos and told to undress. This was so
sinful! Yet, with her hands and arms so tightly bound behind her,
showing off her nude white bottom as if it were a trophy, Kate knew she
could do nothing. She bowed her head in an attempt at modesty. Maybe
they would spare her if she looked properly contrite, she reasoned. And
then she remembered the men. In particular, her boyfriend.
Kate could only imagine what her lover must look like now that
he had a chance to remove his sometimes uncomfortable clothing. She
stood waiting, with her cheeks huddling into her, her hands resting on
their plump surfaces. She could feel the cold steel of the handcuffs
around her wrists pressing hard into the soft whiteness of her bottom.
With cuffs also restraining and binding her elbows, she was made to
stand very straight. She wondered, as she stood there listening to them
undress, tasting the bra that had been stuffed into her mouth, whether
she would experience other feelings upon her bottom this night, and
whether it would be so white in the morning.
A light, almost airy touch on her shoulders. Maria turned Kate
around to face the guests. There were almost twice as many now. For a
moment Kate was startled. The men, who had been so decent and reserved
before, now rudely offered her their bare penises. Several stood with
their hands on their hips and Kate blushed as she saw how trim their
hips were and how trim and sleek and muscled their bodies. In the midst
of each pair of male hips, where the bush lay and where a girl would
have offered nothing, stood up a very stiff pestle of flesh. It made no
bones about its purpose. It throbbed with a life of its own and Kate
was forced to stare at each of the pee holes on each of the men’s
penises.
Was she a toilet? Kate gulped at the thought. What only a
urinal usually saw, a big cockhead with its pee slit presented, she was
now seeing. Staring at, for she couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of
so many male penises clustered around her, showing interest in her, a
girl of only 19 with her hands cuffed so neatly behind her back.
While Kate blushed, the other females, who had shown such an
interest in her earlier, hung back this time, letting the males be
closest to her. The girls nibbled diffidently at aperitifs. One filled
glasses with punch. Kate felt suddenly thirsty and wanted to ask for a
cup of punch but she was afraid she would be given wine again instead,
and forced to get drunk.
Instinctively Kate looked for her lover. But Mark was gone.
Maria noticed her darting eyes and softly stroked her bare shoulder.
“Your lover has been given the girl of his pick and sent
upstairs,” Maria explained. “So that you will be forced to rely on us.
Now you cannot rely on him for guidance or comfort, but only on us.”
A distinct cracking sound came suddenly to all their ears and
they looked up. Leather on bare flesh. It was unmistakable. A female
cry was heard, and a woman with a glass of punch in her hand giggled,
spurting out a little punch from her lips, though she tried to catch it
with her hand. It hit her friend on the breast and since her friend had
undressed she was hit directly by the punch, and it speckled her skin.
The woman who’d lost herself in giggles bent forward and licked up the
punch that decorated her companion’s bare bosom.
“Tch. He is being hard on her,” Maria said, looking up at the
ceiling as another scream broke from above. Maria bared her teeth a
little as she spoke, as if plotting vengeance. Her grip on Kate’s frail
shoulder tightened. Kate felt her bosoms wobble on her chest. She
wanted to shrink and run away before these partygoers. Her eyes were
big in her face and her body was quite waifish and small, except for her
large heavy breasts and her legs which looked very long because they
were so slim. She felt frail and she gasped as a female, stepping up to
a table with a lamp on it, set her drink down on top of the table and
opened its single drawer. Dipping her hand within, the female drew out
a riding crop. It was short and businesslike, with a tough hard
handle. At its tip was an oversized loop, made of leather. Kate
wondered if the big loop was made that way to appeal to the eyes of
children. It reminded her of children’s heads, how they often appeared
larger than their bodies, giving them the look of little bobbing-headed
darlings. Now the crop, with its childish, loopy head, was brought by
the female who’d drawn it out up to Maria. The dark-haired woman, naked
now except for her bouffant hairdo, accepted the crop. Still holding
Kate, she whisked it briskly through the air. Kate watched wide-eyed as
it whistled past her bosoms, with their fine-tipped points, and past her
tummy which seemed to have sunk within her, showing off her ribs as if
she were an animal about to be broasted and eaten. The men,
uncontrollably hard and breathtakingly long, drew back a little, lest
Maria bobbitize one of their penises with her new toy. Screams
permeated the ceiling above, as a slow cracking of leather worked itself
upon some poor helpless female bottom.
Kate felt she could hardly breathe. Butterflies flew in her
soft, small indrawn tummy. Her legs trembled. She realized she was way
in over her head. No wonder her parents had disapproved of her dating
an older man! No college boy could have gotten her into something this
deep, she reckoned. The wildest frat party was always somewhat silly in
the end, with drunken boys dancing around vomiting puke or challenging
each other to pee on passersby from an upstairs window. This was quite
different. Here, the men seemed not the least drunk, but Kate was
staring at their penises nonetheless, and they seemed much harder than
frat boy’s penises, almost implacable, like policemen enforcing the law.
The law of Nature? No, Kate gasped to herself, for whips and
riding crops and such things were hardly what missionaries would approve
of, despite their accord with the missionary position. Here was where
people played who were outside the ambit of God, or what He and her
parents approved of. These were not mere boys on a lark. These were
men with real jobs and real responsibilities who’d chosen (yes, chosen!)
to get together and strip naked and play wicked, decadent games. And
the women were no better. By day they might be models, or private
secretaries, or even businesswomen, but now they were stripped of all
but their lovely hairdos and eyeing the crop in Maria’s hand as if it
were something more than just an implement for encouraging horses. Kate
imagined that women like these would, by day, scold men for
complimenting them on their busts (or perhaps even their dresses) but
now they stood with perky nipples waiting and hoping for attention from
men. A few cupped the balls of their lovers encouragingly, from behind,
still softly sipping their drinks as they weighed the hot swimming sperm
sacks that hung so acutely. Fingers drew themselves along the freely
displayed male organs, sizing them up, finding them especially hard and
daunting. The men remained with their eyes fixed on Kate.
“He has my wife upstairs,” the closest male said as a new
scream broke from above. “Let me be the one to punish her.” The man
spoke to Maria. He was the least attractive one present, Kate thought,
with a face like a boxer who’d boxed too long, and a knotted, muscled
body, like someone who works out but does it badly, without the sleek
tall well-formed look that Kate so much admired. His cock, though big,
resembled a sausage more than a cucumber. Everything about him spoke of
meanness, of deprivation and revenge.
Maria fixed her crop between two fingers, balancing it there
with her fingertips free so that she could use her hand for other
purposes, while still holding the crop, holding it like one might hold a
cigarette. She reached up to Kate’s chin and pulled it down.
“I must take out your bra, dear. You might choke on it or
swallow the end of it,” Maria said. She pulled the stringy, lacy fabric
from Kate’s mouth and Kate sighed. But no sooner was her mouth
unplugged than a woman, circling around almost unnoticed, set down her
drink and whipped a gag quickly around Kate’s mouth.
HOT OFF THE PRESS
by holy joe
VIETNAM, Number 1, $5.99. Starlog Entertainment, 475 Park Avenue South,
New York, NY 10016. No web site listed. (By mail: send $4.99 plus
$2.50 postage and handling.)
Review: A long time ago, in a land far away, there was a war.
America lost. It was called Vietnam.
As you know, in our Pedophile Studies Department (right across
the hall from Feminist Studies, Gay Studies, and Afro-American Studies)
we are reading a book. It’s called “Fire in the Streets.” (ISBN:
0-935553-18-5) It’s a book about the Tet Offensive, specifically, about
the Battle for Hue. There are some very good maps in that book.
However, I have found another map, in this issue of Vietnam, which shows
the various movements of the various army battalions as they fought for
Hue. I recommend the map in this magazine. Those weirdly numbered
battalions (such as: “K4B Battalion 4th Inf. Reg.”) can be quite hard
to follow. This map makes everything crystal clear.
Also in this issue is an Adobe Illustrator-style fold-out
diagram of a B-52 bomber and an F-4 Phantom. I’m not much of a fan of
Adobe Illustrator-style art. I’m old enough to remember when such
fold-outs, in books and magazines, were beautiful paintings or
drawings. Alas, those days are gone. Now everyone seems to use Adobe
Illustrator. It’s cheaper, I suppose. The only drawback is it looks
cheap too.
ym, Young and Modern, May 1998, $2.95. Subscription Service:
1-800-727-9696. No web site listed.
Review: Temple of Pan devotees will be thrilled with this
issue. There’s a swimsuit section. (Page 106.) It features a
wholesome young blonde, bronzed by the sun, playing with her girlfriends
in a tropical park.
Just ahead of the swimsuit photos is a section depicting all
the different types of swimsuits a YM reader might wear. Now you can
speak with authority on the difference between a crop top and a halter
top. (Page 104.)
While we’re giving our worshipful attention to the girls in the
swimsuit section, many girls will be admiring this issue’s cover. My
brother Leonardo DiCaprio is on the cover.
Nordstrom BP style, Number 2, free. From the creators of YM. E-mail:
npta@nordstrom-pta.com Phone: 1-800-695-8000.
Review: Now here’s a magazine cover I can get into: a
wholesome young blonde, clad in hip-hugging jeans, with a blouse so
short it leaves her belly-button showing! I really liked this issue.
“Life’s a Beach,” page 29, features the cover-girl stripped down to a
bikini. Beside her is a luscious brunette. Who needs the movie Lolita
when you’ve got this magazine?
“Cosmic beauty,” page 12, is a fascinating section that helps
girls pick which look is best for them, based on their astrological
sign. Carl Sagan would object, but it is snazzy to look at.
“Boys on the side,” page 70, features full-color portraits of
young men. I have no idea why ‘little girls’ would have an interest in
ogling grown men, but I guess they do.
Skank, June 1998, $6.99. Web: http://www.swankmag.com
Review: Nude girls with lovely white skin engage in a ‘muff
munch.’ (Page 69). I really liked this pictorial! Someday I’m going
to have a harem and my girls are going to do this all day; keeping
themselves constantly aroused in case I need a quick fuck. Swank has a
very good track record of doing ‘naughty but wholesome’ girl/girl
pictorials like this one. If you’re looking for a back issue to buy,
with a good girl/girl pictorial, I recommend the August 1997 issue. The
ad for back issues is on page 76.
Penthouse Bathing Beauties, May 1998, $5.99. Web:
http://www.penthousemag.com
Review: A high-quality issue. The Penthouse special issues
can vary quite a bit. Some are good. Some are junk. This issue is a
must if you like: young, perfect females. Pinned-up long hair. Soap,
bubbles, and spraying water. Plus licking tongues and probing fingers,
teasing a girl to an orgasm in a warm bath.
Shit. Now I need a bath, and a pair of clean underpants too!
What I really liked about this issue is that some of the girls
look like slave-pets. There are several pictorials in which you see a
totally perfect girl sitting alone in a gorgeous tub, her hair neatly
arranged, staring out at the camera like she’s been captured.
“Yes, my pretty, you’re all mine now. HA! HA! HA!” the evil
nerd says.
If you have Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, this magazine
is the perfect companion to it.
-----
“[This is a poem from] my chapbook entitled, “Even On The
Longest Day,” writes David R. Hadley.
“I am originally from Washington D.C. and am very familiar with
the poetry circuit there. I participated in many poetry readings and
various other functions.” (Bodily functions? - h.j.) “I have never
published and my works have only been herd [sic] through these
readings.”
(untitled)
by David R. Hadley
There is the lonely drone of an engine
In my head
Keeping this facade at a distance
The wolf in his den
And a thin membrane
Of passive aggression
Keeping it all in check
I waited
Patiently
Already knowing you would
Finish the final chapter
While I was getting a drink of water
Then you left
Then you left again
And I stood there
With my dick in my hand
And the wolf biting my ass
AND IN THE END...
PROTECT THE CHILDREN?
“Iraqi doctors had forgotten how to treat malnutrition -- now
it is our main work,” says Abdulla Hussain, director of a pediatric
clinic in Baghdad. “Our children are dying in front of us.”
- Newsweek, March 16, 1998, pg. 41.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant
Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art!
- JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan
-END OF 362 EMISSION
“Some diplomats privately fear that Iraq under sanctions may
become like Germany in the 1920s -- a nation so severely punished that
its next generation will want revenge.”
- Newsweek, March 16, 1998, pg. 41.
--
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