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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 286  Pussy Playland  (nnd)  g2
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                        THE  GREAT  F U C K  W O M E N  CONTEST !

                                              by holy joe

         Recently a woman told me, “Your posts are the most offensive on
the Net!”  
         I don’t think they are, though.  I mean, you know, they’re just
my opinions.  It’s not like I make them purposely offensive or
anything.  So I think we should teach this woman what ‘offensive’ is. 
These damn feminists are always saying, “Oh!  You touched me, that’s
offensive!”  Or “You looked at me, that’s harassment.”  Or, “You looked
at my daughter, that’s a heinous crime!”
         Sure, ladies.  Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot were committing
garden-variety crimes.  It’s looking at little girls that’s the real
crime!
         I’m setting up a contest.  My contest is going to be called,
“The Most Offensive Post on the Net Contest.”  Whoever posts the most
offensive post will win a prize.  (I’m not sure what it is yet.  Maybe a
year’s subscription to Hustler.)
         Anyway, please post the most offensive posts you can possibly
think of on the Net.  This lets you enter my contest and, when I’m done
reading all the posts, it gives you the chance to win a prize. 
Remember, the posts have to be offensive to women, because we’re trying
to teach these damn feminist women what offensive is.  No offensive
posts about fat guys, please.  (I’m not a woman.)  Also, no jokes about
men masturbating.  (Again, this isn’t a topic that offends women.  They
just assume fat guys who can’t get a date jack off.)  And, please, no
jokes about guys who go to Tower Books.  Women are already plenty aware
how many guys look at porno at Tower Books.  Keep your jokes ABOUT
women, and you’ll be most certain to offend them.
         You know, boobs, cunts, birth control, those sorts of jokes. 
Like, “Wow.  If your tits were any smaller, you’d need a microscope to
find them!”  (A lame joke, I know, but I didn’t want to burn up any good
ones.)
         Go to it, guys!  Let’s show these women what ‘offensive’ really
means!  Hopefully, when this contest is over, women will no longer
criticize our normal remarks and behavior.

                                      Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY

                                     Sponsored by:  JOE CAMEL

                                              Issue No. 286

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                              Pussy Playland

                                                Chapter One

         “No, use the bowl,” Tabitha told me.  “It’s more fun for the
men that way.  Come, get down off the bed and squat over it.”  She bent
and placed it down on the rug.  Catlike I unbent my legs and crawled
across the bed, letting the men admire my tail.  I hopped down and
padded to the bowl and squatted myself down over it.  I waited, plucking
at my moist pubic hair, for my pee to come.  Tabitha got some linen
napkins from the night stand and unfolded one of them to wipe me when I
was done.
         “Well?” she asked.
         “Okay, just a minute,” I said.  And then my pee came squirting
out and splashed into the bowl.
         “Ohhh, she looks so sweet,” Francis said, watching me.  “Poop
out your bon bons too!” she suggested.  I could feel them bulging inside
me and very much wanted to obey her.
         “No, not until she’s had her stuffing,” Tabitha said.  She told
me to squeeze my bottom cheeks together with my hands as I peed to
prevent myself from pooping them out.  I obeyed, reluctantly.
         Tabitha knelt down in front of me and wiped my pussy when I was
done.  Then I got back in bed.  Beth and Francis and, finally, Tabitha,
took their place on the pot, peeing leisurely, the men watching us, with
Tabitha running to the toilet after each pee to empty the bowl.
         “It’s fun using the potty in front of the guys,” Beth admitted
quietly to me.
         “Yes,” I answered.
         “How do those clamps feel?” she asked.  Sympathetically she
touched the tassels that were hung from my nipples and watched them
sway.
         “I want them off,” I replied.
         “As soon as you’ve been stuffed Tabitha will allow it,” Beth
said matter-of-factly.
         “Then let’s get it over with, please,” I begged.
         “Alright,” Beth said.  She called out to Tabitha, who was just
coming back from the bathroom.  “Tabby!  Can Kelly please have her
stuffing now?  Her tits are hurting!”
         “Of course they’re hurting!  I put clamps on them,” Tabitha
laughed.  “Alright, we’ve had enough fun.  Time for business.”  She
climbed up onto our bed.  “Stuart, I hope you’ve enjoyed having that
sperm in your balls because you’re going to pump it out now,” Tabitha
told him.  She reached between his legs and possessively cupped his
sack.  It was taut and full.
         “I’m more than ready for that,” Stuart admitted.
         “Kelly, please kneel at the head of the bed,” Tabitha told me. 
“And lift up the pillow and hand me the whip, please.  I want to whip
that scrumptious bottom of yours so it feels nice and glowing when
Stuart does you.”
         “But--” I began.
         “It’s the opposite of the Binaca,” she replied.  “It stings
when its applied but feels nicer later.  Warm and glowing.  Fetch,
doggie, or I’ll lay on twice as many as I usually do.  You did moon
Stuart, remember?  You deserve a little smacking.”
         “I specialize in punishing girls’ bottoms,” Stuart offered.
         “Yes, I know, Stuart, but this is my bed and I want to whip
her,” Tabitha told him as I gulpingly pulled out the whip and passed it
to her.  “Also, Stuart, it’s my whip,” Tabitha smiled.  “You have a nice
white hiney.  I may do you later, dear.  Have any of your loves ever
whipped you?”
         “Well, I’m not into FEMALE domination,” Stuart answered.
         “I know, just male, hmmm?  What’s good for the goose is good
for the gander, Stuart,” Tabitha answered, and before Stuart could stop
her she gave a test flick of her whip across his ass.
         “Whoa!  Don’t do that!” Stuart said.  He clapped his hands over
his butt.  Alex laughed.  Both their cocks stuck up like big worms
wishing to be forever at attention.  I knew we’d draft them soon,
Tabitha and Beth and Francis and I.  
         “Show me your bottom, dear,” Tabitha said to me.  “Put your
face on the pillow and kneel up properly and let me see that naughty
tail of yours.”  Reluctantly I assumed a position on all fours that let
them all see my white bottom, but little of my face.  Tabitha eased my
legs apart and I felt myself blush as my fig came into view.  There was
absolutely nothing to prevent them from looking right at my fanny and my
private!  They gazed at me with casual abandon, as if at some strip show
where girls were required to undress.  The men wanted to masturbate
themselves but, thanks to the Binaca and lotion, they were too much on
edge to tolerate any more play.  Carefully the girls dandled their balls
and stroked the insides of their powerful thighs.  “Don’t pop them,”
Tabitha warned my soul-mates.
         “We won’t,” the girls answered, their voices high, like
children in the park.
         “Mmmm, such a nice bottom,” Tabitha observed, turning her
attention to me.  She slipped the snakeskin lash between her fingers,
toying with its length.  It had cruel tassels on its tip that were
frayed and knotted.
         “This is an old whip, a little worn,” Tabitha told me as I
gulpingly looked back at it.  “They used to whip racehorses with it. 
Now its been put out to pasture and is just used on female bottoms. 
Girls and women who need to be taught to behave.  Are you sorry you
showed off your bottom to everyone in the living room?”
         “Yes, very much so,” I answered.  I felt very nervous.  My
thighs and legs seemed to be shaking right down to my squirming toes. 
We’d all kicked off our sandals before climbing into Tabitha’s bed but
now, with the soles of my soft feet showing themselves to her, I
wondered if they were safe.  I knew the Arabs tortured feet sometimes. 
But I was most worried about my bottom.  This was something I wouldn’t
even let my mother do to me!  
         “Ready?” Tabitha asked.
         “No,” I answered truthfully.
         “Try not to shout too loudly.  I don’t want everyone cuming in
here,” Tabitha told me.  And then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she
sent the whip flying into my fanny.
         “Yeeeowch!” I gritted.  I swallowed hard.  I didn’t want to
seem babyish.  
         “Oooh, poor baby,” Tabitha said.  She caressed a spot on my
bottom where a bright pink streak had been placed.  The handiwork of her
whip.  “Now, here’s another.  Take your medicine,” she said.  And she
let her whip fly again, striking me hard.
         “YeeeeOWCH!” I yelped.  I blinked back tears.  She gave me two
more in quick succession.  I found myself screaming loudly and tears
running down my face, threatening to spoil my makeup.  I had waterproof
makeup but I knew that sobbing and weeping and smearing my face into my
pillow would certainly mess it up.  I tried flexing my bottom cheeks to
assuage the sting.  I tried keeping my chin up, so my face wouldn’t
smear lipstick all over it.  But my hands clutched the pillow hard and I
knew I’d be biting into it in a minute.
         WHACK!  WHACK!  SLACK!  WHACK!  Tabitha really gave it to me
now.  She let several strokes splatter the knots at the end of the whip
over my tushy.  I howled and ground my face in my pillow and forgot all
about preserving my makeup.  All the while I was conscious of my fig on
display and my titties jangling with their clamps.
         “Oh, how nice,” I heard someone say at the door and knew, as I
bounced on my knees under each new searing lash of the whip, that others
had come to watch.  My legs were apart, my cunny was on display, and my
bottom was bare.  What would my mother think?  Would I run home to her
tonight, rubbing my heinie?  How would I sit tomorrow at school.  The
next strokes of the whip blasted all those thoughts out of my head as
Tabitha made me feel the whip very deeply, impressing it into my tender
cheeks like nothing I’d ever felt before.
         “Enough!  Enough!” I cried.  I flattened myself on my belly and
my hands flew back to my tush.  Madly I rubbed myself, feeling even
worse as I touched my flayed bottom.  But I had to protect it at all
costs!  Tabitha tried to remove my hands but I held them as tight as I
could to my flaming cheeks.
         “Shall we tie her?” Francis asked.  She scrambled to the head
of the bed and began uncoiling one of the white ropes.  
         “Poor girl, she has not yet learned the joy of it,” Tabitha
sighed.  “Ream her, Stuart.  I’ve given her all she can take.”
         Stuart came to me then and hefted me right up, his hands round
my waist, tight as iron clamps.  He lifted my hips and positioned me
back on my knees as I begged him through my tears to let me go. 
Francis, feeling inspired, lifted my chin and kissed my mouth.  I did
not want her kisses but she insisted, driving her tongue into me and
whispering consoling words.  This, of course, the girl who just moments
before had wanted to see me tied and whipped some more.
         Stuart put his thing to my cunt.  I was sinfully wet and, still
gleaming with the lotion Tabitha had applied to relieve his cock from
the Binaca, Stuart pushed himself into me as easily as one might.  At 14
I was no easy fuck.  But, thanks to the whipping and our playing, I was
not emotionally resistant.  He had only to fight the tightness of my
womb itself.  I wanted him, if only to get the bon bons out of my butt
and the clamps off my nipples.  I did all I could, despite my crying and
my pain, to open myself and receive him.  The bon bons made me even
tighter than I should have been, but Tabitha had planned it that way,
just to be nasty to me.  Every inch of his manhood that he got up me
seemed about to split me in two.  I cried, I howled, until finally
Stuart, getting in front of me to complete my stuffing, put his cock
into my mouth.  
         As I sucked Stuart like a baby feeds on a bottle, Tabitha
insinuated herself beneath Stuart and put her mouth to my cunny.  I felt
a sense of shock as her wet, moving mouth, suddenly joined with my clit,
even as Stuart drove himself into the folds of my cunt.  All around my
tiny spot Tabitha slurped and fed, nibbling into me as if I were her
dinner and she were a starving child.  I moaned, I bucked, I lost all
sense of time and space.  I even forgot all about the people who stood
in the doorway admiring my performance.  Well, it was the same folks I’d
shown my bottom to earlier, so I had no cause of complaint, I guess. 
But I did feel a little embarrassed when it was all over.
         Crying from my whipping and begging Stuart to uncork himself
from me even as I bounced my bottom backward to take more of him, I
reached my climax and then came some more.  I lost track of my orgasms. 
There was no use counting them, with Tabitha endlessly licking me. 
Stuart, who’d seemed on the verge of cuming as we played with the
Binaca, found new strength and held himself back and reamed me again and
again.  I felt as if I’d been impaled on some giant iron bar that some
inquisitorial Pope was using to spill confessions from me.  I confessed,
but the torture continued anyway.  Somewhere on the far side of heaven I
found myself panting with a limp male penis being withdrawn from me. 
Bleary eyed, my makeup long since wasted and ruined, I looked back to
find Stuart had long since removed himself and been replaced by Alex,
while Francis fed in my mouth, cleaning it of Alex’s spent sperm.  
         “Hi,” I said when at last I’d been left to myself and
recovered.
         “Hi,” Tabitha said.  She was lying with her head on my belly
and she kissed my belly button.  Her bottom, bulbing way down at the
tail of her back, seemed smeared with sperm and I guessed someone had
taken her in her hole.
         “Please don’t whip me again,” I said.
         “Mmmmm, with a bottom like that you’re doomed to be whipped
until you’re 40,” she said truthfully to me.
         “Then I’ll never have sex again,” I declared.  Even as I spoke
I wished she’d move her head so I could frig myself.
         “You’re so young and sweet,” she smiled.  She moved her face
down my belly and kissed my bush and I did not stop her.

                                         Chapter Two

         “Wake up, silly!” I heard a female voice urge.  A slap hit my
belly.  I stirred.  In my mind I was wondering at a teacher’s question
at school.  Dreamily I sucked on my fingertip and considered raising my
hand.  Somehow, in my dream, I knew if I raised my hand my t-shirt was
so short that it would lift up and show my boobies.
         And then I found myself staring into Tabitha’s eyes.  “I’m
sorry, I thought I had the answer,” I said sleepily.  Was she my
teacher?  
         “What answer?” she asked.  I felt her fingers press into my
pussy lips and knew, at last, where I was.  She slapped my tummy again.
         “I know you’re young and blonde and cute,” Tabitha said to me
seriously.  “But you’re going to have to participate in our activities
just like everyone else.” Tabitha said.
         “Okay,” I lisped.  I sucked my finger innocently.  She slapped
my breasts.  “OWwoooo!” I cried.  “That hurt.”
         “No excuses,” Tabitha said.  Her eyes drank in my 14-year-old
figure.  “You have the body for it.  Lean and firm, tanned, with nice
big breasts that I know must give your mother fits.  Get up, honey. 
We’re going to have a contest!”
         She permitted me a little stretch and then I got up out of the
bed.  Seeing a mirror, I ran my hands through my hair.  She took my hand
and tugged at it.  
         “Can’t I at least freshen up?” I asked her.
         “Why bother?  You’re just going to get fucked again,” she
smiled.  My belly full of Alex’s sperm, I walked with her hand-in-hand
out to the living room.  It was dark, save for the fire in the fireplace
where everyone was huddling around.  I’d noticed a chill getting out of
the bed.  Now I realized someone had turned off the heat and opened a
window to let the night air in.  It was cold, blowing in off the sea.  I
thought I heard a boat in the distance sound its horn.  It was a
warning, to other ships, but I wondered if it might be meant by God to
warn me too.  After all, I knew nobody here, except my rotten, cheating
(and hunky) boyfriend Alex.

                                        STOCK MARKET INFO !

         “Even a dead cat bounces if you drop it from a high enough
roof.  Hence the charming name -- dead-cat bounce -- that financial folk
give to short-lived rallies that always occur in even the most savage of
bear markets.”

         - This valuable gem of vital information has been generously
supplied to you by HJNS, the ‘holy joe news service,’ regarding the
all-important Japanese stock market.
         (and courtesy of The Economist, August 16, 1997, pg. 57.)

                                             AND IN THE END...

                            ANDREA  DORKIN  TRIUMPHS  AT  LAST !

“After the lady Ishtar had gone down into the land of no return,
The bull did not mount the cow, the ass approached not the she-ass;
To the maid in the street no man drew near; -(thank God for that! -
h.j.)
The man slept in his apartment,
The maid slept by herself.”

- Sumerian/Babylonian myth of Ishtar and Tammuz.


-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Free e-mail subscriptions:  No longer available due to mailbombing of
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  copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 286 EMISSION
- Ishtar:  The Story of Civilization, by Will and Ariel Durant, Volume
1, pg. 239.

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