Message-ID: <5274eli$9710301700@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/5274.txt>
From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 304 Nudie Nursery (nnd) g2
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Reply-To: roller39@IDT.NET
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <34587027.69C9@idt.net>
---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Instinctively, Cum-Andi’s penis stiffened to its full length.
He’d never been observed by this many eyes except in the boys’ locker
room. But these eyes were different. They were female eyes...
A Future for All Mankind
except one
AMAZONIA
Now Available from:
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
or under roller39@idt.net at http://www.dejanews.com/
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 304
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Pussy Playland
Chapter Four
In the depths of their dungeon I howled out. They made me cum
like an animal, a sheep being slaughtered. Their own cries mingled with
mine. Jeff pounded me fiercely. His dick opened me in places I’d never
thought possible. He was enormous inside me. He split me wide and
fucked me hard and his wife urged him to spoil me with his fierceness.
But I was not spoiled, unless in the way little girls are spoiled, by
having daddies who give them everything.
Jeff shot all he had into me. I swooned. Sherry trilled in my
ear as she fingered herself into bliss. We forgot everything for
awhile; names, relationships, personalities. We were just our organs,
Jeff shooting and me receiving and Sherry jamming her fingers up into
herself. Our bodies humped and heaved. Our parts became us.
“Let me help you down, honey,” Sherry said to me afterward.
With tender fingers she undid me from the rack. I sighed. Her voice
was tremulous. We were both coated with a sheen of sweat, which, having
our senses back, the cool air of the dungeon quickly used to make us
quite chilly.
I looked at her. Was my hair as unkempt as hers? It must be.
Yet, their was a fullness to both our manes. They seemed heathy. I ran
my fingers through mine when my hands were free and found a richness I
had not sensed before.
With light, almost amazed steps, I regained the dungeon floor
and walked across it. Jeff had left Sherry to undo me and gone up the
ladder to get the door open. I found myself looking up at his hairy
butt, way up on the ladder. I heard a thud as the trapdoor was pushed
back and fell open against the floor of the study.
Jeff climbed out. I began up the ladder and Sherry followed
me. Suddenly, when I was almost at the top, I felt a spray of fluid hit
my face.
“Jeff!” I cried out. I looked up. To my horror I saw he was
peeing on me!
“Jeff! Stop!” Sherry cried from down below. We were both
getting hit by his stream, me first and she secondarily, his pee
dripping and splashing off me onto her.
There was no hope in getting Jeff to cut off his flow. Like a
little boy he gaily peed down on us. I was forced to accept his urine
all over my face and boobs. There was no way for me to escape him. I
was stuck, high up on the ladder. I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted
my face back and forth but it was no use. He seemed to catch me
whichever way I turned my face. He called down to me to open my mouth
but I refused.
When at last Jeff had finished I climbed up the rest of the
way. Gallantly he reached into the hole and lifted me up by my hand and
set me on my feet on the study floor. Sherry followed. We looked at
each other and saw that we were both dripping with her husband’s pee.
“Your husband is a cad,” I told her.
“Just be glad I didn’t poop on you,” Jeff laughed. He shut the
trap door. He pulled the throw rug over it.
“Let’s shower and take you home,” Sherry said to me. She took
my hand. Together we walked to their bathroom.
I was left off at the corner. I walked the half block to my
house by myself. They’d bought me clothes on the way back, Gap clothes,
the kind mothers like. My hair was in pigtails and my makeup was gone.
I had a sweatshirt on, with long sleeves. I wore clam-digger pants,
showing just my calves. I had sneakers on and my laces were tied.
“Kelly! Where have you been?” my mom asked as I banged through
the screen door of our house. She was home early, just as I feared.
“I slept over at a friend’s house,” I said casually.
“Well, you should ask my permission when you do that, dear,” my
mom replied. “Whose bike is that in the garage?” she asked.
“Oh,” I answered. “Just a friend.”
“Now I want you to go to the Mormon Children’s Sunday School
this evening,” my mom told me. “There will be lots of nice boys and
girls there your age. Decent boys and girls, who will be a good
influence on you. I don’t want you getting into any of the things most
kids around here do.”
I paused a moment. Should I drop my pants and show her my red
bottom, where I’d almost been toasted alive on a bondage table? Or lift
my shirt, and show her the marks on my belly where Jeff had whipped me?
I decided not to. I was feeling quiet, content. My eyes were dreamy.
“Whatever you want, mom,” I answered.
“My, you’re being good today,” my mom said. “Perhaps you
should sleep over more often.”
I don’t know if she guessed anything, but I never did have to
go to sunday school and my mom put away her Mormon records. We seemed
to get along much better after that, and she never asked why I ‘shaped
up’ so nicely for her from then on, being polite and wearing the clothes
she liked. But, at the same time, she never questioned me when I
happened to ‘sleep over’ either.
THE END
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Nudie Nursery
Chapter One
I guess I have a sense of adventure. Most girls find a
girlfriend to do things with. But I prefer to go to go to the movies by
myself, or to the beach, or shopping. You never know who you’ll meet
when you’re by yourself. And guys are more likely to approach you when
you’re all alone.
I love dressing sexy and going out and ‘testing the waters.’ I
love the anticipation of it. I’m just 15, blonde, blue eyed, with long
legs and high, firm breasts that most guys talk to as if they’re me when
they’re speaking to me. Women like speaking to me too. It’s as if
they’re afraid for me. Or sometimes they’re just looking for a friend.
I play hard to get, though. It’s the teasing that’s fun for me. And
then, sometimes, you meet someone you want to do more with.
I was building a sandcastle on the beach when she knelt down
across from me. I looked up at her. I was wearing a skimpy bikini bra
that barely held my breasts. They’re big for my age. I guess I should
feel bashful about showing them off, but I don’t. My panties weren’t
thong panties, but, on the other hand, they were probably sexier than
thong panties. They had a seat that was too small and kept riding up
inside my buttcrack. Every so often I’d stop playing in the sand and
reach back behind myself and pull my panties out of my crack.
“May I help you?” the woman asked me. I smiled.
“Sure,” I replied. “I used to do this all the time when I was
a kid,” I added. I patted the walls of my castle to make them firm.
She began piling up sand across from me. I saw that her nails were
painted and she worked delicately so as not to scrape off the polish.
“I like your Hello Kitty pail,” she smiled at me. It was a
small pink pail with Hello Kitty on it, sucking a snorkel and watching
fish as they swirled around her.
“Thanks,” I answered. “I like Hello Kitty.”
“Me too,” she replied. My visitor was raven-haired, perhaps
20-years-old, with a model’s body and knockout breasts. She must have
been as daring as me for she wore a bikini with bra cups that were
extremely narrow. This left most of her bosom hanging out of each cup,
with just the nipple covered. The triangles of her cups stretched
upward and quickly gave way to nothing but string, which tied behind her
neck. A second string, around her back, kept the cups as secure as one
could hope, given their flimsiness. I noticed that she worked carefully
so as not to let her boobs spill out in front of everybody on the
beach.
“My name’s Kate,” my new friend offered.
“I’m Kelly,” I answered.
“Hmmm, Kate and Kelly,” she said. We both laughed.
“Do you cum down to the beach often?” she asked me. She spoke
in a light, sexy voice, and I swear whenever she said the word ‘come’ it
had an especially naughty ring to it.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Do you have any boyfriends?” she asked. I looked up at her.
“Sometimes,” I said. “Do you?”
“Not right now,” she replied. I looked surprised and she
hastily added. “I just moved here. Guys can be such a pain, you know?
I had a boyfriend in New York and he was too demanding. Not in the good
way, you know?” She smiled. Her teeth were white. She brushed her
hair back, carefully, so as not to get sand in it. She had a mane as
dark and long and full as a show pony. “I inherited a house on the
beach from my uncle.” She looked at me closely. “Do you want to hear
something strange?” she asked.
I was going to simply reply, ‘I guess so,’ but something moved
inside me and I felt a sudden boldness. “Yes,” I answered. Our eyes
met and I felt she was going to divulge some terrible secret to me.
“He-” she stopped, looked down. She put a hand to her breasts,
as if to hold them in (not a bad idea, actually). Then she looked up at
me again. “Don’t tell anyone but,” she paused again. “He ran a
preschool and, well, you’d have to see it to believe it.”
“What?!” I asked.
She looked down. For a moment she just worked on my sand
castle. Then she looked up at me. “Have you ever imagined yourself
captive in something like this?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” I answered truthfully.
“Well, he just has a beach house but,” she gazed deep into my
eyes, as if asking me to trust her with her awful secret. “He kept
bondage stuff in his house!” she whispered.
We walked up to the lifeguard. We’d strolled along the beach
and finally picked him out. We held hands as we walked up to him. We
looked terrific in our bikinis but we had butterflies inside our
tummies.
It hadn’t taken us long to become fast friends once Kate told
me about her uncle. It was so strange to think that a man, in this day
and age, had managed to run a preschool for little children and keep a
dungeon in his house. Imagine all those poor little boys and girls in a
house that had both a preschool and a dungeon! Of course, we didn’t
dare to ask the unthinkable. HAD he done more than just teach them
their alphabet? Had they learned to count by having a whip flailed over
their little bare bottoms?
Together Kate and I gazed at the lifeguard. He was setting
surfboards up against the wall of his shelter. They were used to rescue
people. I think Kate and I needed rescuing just then, but no one was
there but him. And we had plans for him!
The lifeguard turned around and regarded us. We had let my
castle succumb to the incoming tide. I held my Hello Kitty pail in my
hand.
“You two don’t look like you’re drowning,” the lifeguard said
sardonically. I think maybe he felt a little intimidated by us. We did
look gorgeous, and our bikinis were almost so small he might have
wondered if he should cite us for nudity!
“Are you into pain?” we asked him, our voices chiming
together.
“What?” he replied. His swimsuit grew an instant tent.
“Are you into pain?” Kate asked him again. Her voice was
no-nonsense, insistent.
“It, well, it depends,” the lifeguard replied. Kate reached
out and took his big, brawny arm in her hand. She turned around and
tugged him along behind us.
“Girls, I just started my shift,” the lifeguard protested. But
Kate and I marched down the beach, pulling him along, us like little
tugboats pulling on some giant steamship.
We stepped into the darkness of Kate’s dungeon. She flicked on
a light. We were still in our swimsuits. We’d just entered her house
and come right downstairs, not bothering with anything else. Our eyes
widened as we saw all the things her uncle had collected.
Amidst chains and whips and paddles, posts and trestles and
cages too small to stand up in, were a swingset, a slide, a sandbox, and
a children’s table with toys on it.
“Here it is,” Kate breathed. “I’ve nicknamed it Nudie
Nursery.”
“Naked games,” I whispered. I remembered headlines from my
childhood about satanic preschools, real and imagined.
“Have you reported this to the authorities?” our lifeguard
boyfriend asked Kate. His name was Ray.
Kate looked at Ray and turned and faced him. Without even
asking permission, she bent and yanked his swim trunks right down to his
thighs. His cock sprang out. It was as big as she and I had imagined.
It stuck out like a freed snake and we both stared at it.
When Kate had recovered herself, she looked up at Ray’s eyes.
“After I see what all’s down here, then maybe I’ll report it to the
police,” she explained to him.
“Yeah,” Ray replied. He was stunned that she’d been so bold as
to yank down his swimsuit. I could see where his tan line ended and his
loins began. It was amazing to see his huge erection just sticking out
like that. Yet Kate and I were still in our bikinis, tiny as they
were. We’d given him nothing in return.
Kate had a waif’s body and beautifully long legs but I imagined
she’d never make it big in modeling because her breasts were so large.
She looked up at Ray with her large, childish eyes and spoke to him very
frankly. “Honey,” she explained. “I want to experiment with this stuff
and I want to do it on you. I hope you’re willing. I must admit that
it will probably be kind of painful for you. This stuff isn’t just for
pleasure, you know.”
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
The MOOT Catalog no. 6. Free. 8 1/2 x 11 inch flier. Brian Kirk, Moot
Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA 01108. e-mail:
mootcomics@aol.com web: http://www.the-spa.com/bear/moothome
Review: Do you like to draw? Would you like to make your own
comic books, and sell them through the mail? If so, get this flier.
You can learn how to make a very inexpensive catalog of your own, by
copying the layout ideas in this catalog.
As for the comics themselves, try ordering a few comics out of
this catalog. Some comics are 50 cents. Some are a dollar. Many are
only 25 cents each, less than the price of a stamp!
If you’re not able to draw, but you still like art, this
catalog is a very nice item to have. Brian is quite a talented small
press cartoonist. Whenever he releases a new catalog (this is number
6), he includes a new, one-page, multi-panel cartoon in it. This issue
features “The Man with the Cape.” He does battle against a bank robber
armed with a “cyclone machine”.
Comics available from this catalog feature the following story
ideas, among others: “Bott receives unwanted mail.” “Zipwad’s
Revenge.” “Asinine Head hits his stench quota.” “Asinine Head has an
oral accident.”
Brian Kirk is one of America’s premier small press artists. He
is one of the very few artists who can tell a story. Wondering what to
do with your loose change? Why not use it to acquire a treasure trove
of late 20th century art? It’s common knowledge that, during his
lifetime, Van Gogh’s paintings were available for a song. Now that he’s
gone, they cost millions.
Support the arts! Buy a MOOT comic!
AND IN THE END...
WHAT’S YOUR STORY?
“This country’s been defined... through its fictionalization.”
- Actor Danny Glover
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Back issues: type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key.
Under “Quick Search”, type in: roller39@idt.net
Press your “return” key.
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- 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 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 304 EMISSION
- Glover: Charlie Rose, October 28, 1997.
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /