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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 313 Nudie Nursery (nnd) g2
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MATTEL TO RELEASE NEW “KEN”
LOS ANGELES (UP) - Mattel Toy Co. announced today that a new
Ken doll will be released in the first quarter of 1998. Ken is the
companion doll to Barbi.
“The new Ken doll is designed to raise boys’ self esteem, and
to lower the expectations of girls,” a Mattel spokesperson said
Tuesday. “It will be an anatomically correct doll. It will reflect the
physical proportions of the average American male. Too many girls have
grown up playing with the equivalent of Clark Kent, aka. Superman. Our
new Ken doll will help girls feel comfortable when they find themselves
in bed with the average male,” Mattel said.
Mattel detailed Ken’s new proportions: “The doll won’t be
bald. Ken will, however, be balding. He will wear glasses. He will
have an overbite. His shoulders will be narrower than on the old doll.
His hips will be wider.
“Ken’s stomach will be bigger than his chest. His legs will be
short, and Ken will be shorter than Barbi. He will, however, have large
feet. They will have a slight odor.
“Like many men, Ken will have a small mustache. This will make
up for his sparse amount of chest hair. Also, it will be in keeping
with Ken’s new 1990’s role as a Police Officer. He will come equipped
with a nightstick, though children playing with Barbi can have her wield
the nightstick if they prefer,” Mattel said.
Other attire available for Ken will also be in line with 1990’s
American values, according to Mattel. The new Ken will come with
optional clothing that can allow him to be dressed as a nurse, a
secretary, or a hair stylist. When asked to provide further details on
Ken’s anatomy, Mattel noted that he will have peppercorn hair, Asian
eyes, and no penis.
“We’re calling him ‘Multi-Cultural Ken’,” the Mattel
spokesperson enthused. “His mother was Asian, his father was black.
His grandfather was white, however, but his grandmother was Puerto
Rican. His great-grandfather was an Eskimo.
“Ken’s religion, however, is Native American,” the Mattel
spokesperson added. “He prays to the Great Spirit. However, he is also
a believer in Jesus Christ, and goes to church every Sunday. On
Saturday, he goes to the Jewish Temple. And, every day, he prays five
times during the day to Mecca. At night he practises Buddhism.”
A reporter for Toy Insider provided additional details on the
physical aspects of the Ken doll: “He has a rather large navel. Also,
they enlarged his ass because, like the average American male, he spends
a lot of time sitting and watching T.V. He has an overdeveloped right
hand which, Mattel assured me, is from using the T.V. remote control,
not from reading magazines.
“Frankly,” the reporter for Toy Insider confided, “The new Ken
looks a lot like that guy. What’s his name? Holy joe. Now your
daughter can play all day with Holy joe.”
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: Crab the dog
Issue No. 313
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Nudie Nursery
Chapter Three
“Kiss my hand,” Jasmine said. She presented it palm upward,
the very palm that had just slapped me! I hesitated. She drew her hand
away and abruptly slapped me again.
“OWWWW!” I cried. I bent my head down and felt my breasts
shiver beneath me as my ass bobbed all around, brazenly displaying
itself. I squeezed my cheeks into themselves and then let go, squeezed
again.
“Kiss my hand,” Jasmine ordered once more. This time when she
offered her palm to my lips I kissed her hand freely. “Very good,” she
said afterward. She made me turn around. “Your breasts are lovely, let
me feel them,” she said. I stood quietly and she fondled me roughly,
squeezing my tits like fruit in a market. She gave each of my nipples a
little pinch. I suppressed a cry. “You are young and healthy, fit for
training,” Jasmine said. “Let me see your teeth.” I opened my mouth.
I said ‘ah.’ She looked inside. “Yes, you can wear a bit,” she said.
She reached down and fondled my dell. A finger intruded. “You have had
sex before?” she asked. I bit my lip and nodded. “You feel tight. We
will work on that. Turn around again.” I turned, fearfully. She
spread my ass cheeks and looked at the dimple of my hole. “Fine, good,
let me feel,” she said, pleased with my appearance, wanting to check me
inside. “Don’t resist me, girl,” she warned. But despite licking the
tip of her finger she could barely get it in. “You will have to be
widened,” she said at last with a sigh. Again I sensed her jaded
nature. She had trained other girls before, I knew. I was nothing new,
just another 16-year-old, I realized. Had Brent brought other girls
before me, or was I his first, and Jasmine merely a woman old before her
time, her looks remaining, but her desire depleted? She made me turn to
face her again and I felt as if I were in the presence of a nurse, being
examined clinically, not for the purposes of love.
“Sit down on that chair,” she said. She pointed to a big furry
armchair and I walked self-consciously to it and sat down in its warmth
with my bare bottom. My bottom that would have to be widened. My
cheeks felt tight upon the soft fuzzy seat of the chair. I did not want
to be widened.
Jasmine lay a simple cloth beneath my left arm. Then she
produced a needle from a little bag and a tourniquet. I gasped,
cringed. My nipples, hard already, stiffened even further in fright.
“A blood test is necessary to make sure you’re free of disease,” Jasmine
said. She did not stop to ask my permission but merely took my slim arm
and wrapped the tubing tightly around it. She swabbed the crook of my
arm with an alcohol pad. “All our men here are free from disease, you
can be assured of that,” she told me. She stabbed. I screamed briefly
but I couldn’t help it. “Don’t resist any of them. They will not give
you any diseases, nor the women either.” When the syringe was full
Jasmine removed the needle, popped the tourniquet, and handed me a fresh
piece of cotton. I daubed the place where she’d stabbed me.
Another woman made me stand. I remembered from our
introductions that she was named Lisa. She clasped my shoulders and
guided me out of the room. As I passed Brent I saw that he was still
being entertained by the other woman, the one who liked cream-crackers.
A friend had undressed her and she was down on her knees now, sucking
hard on my new boyfriend. With a grunt he suddenly came in her mouth
and she began swallowing quickly. “We all share here,” Lisa told me.
“Never refuse anyone. It is not permitted.” I watched in dismay as my
new boyfriend’s seed spilled from the lips of the woman and ran down her
chin and speckled her breasts. “Do you feel jealous?” Lisa asked me.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Good, you have come to the right place then,” Lisa replied.
“We can train you not to.” She took my hand. Together we walked from
the room, as if girlfriends, and she guided me down a long hallway and
out onto a back porch. There were leaves on the porch. A small
fountain tinkled forth its essence, surrounded by rose bushes. Lisa,
her hair as golden as mine in the moonlight of a fresh summer evening,
walked me through the open air to a wing of the building. It was made
of old stone, as if the villa where the living room lay had been built
years afterward, the newer portion being of brick. “We keep the slaves
here,” Lisa said. She produced a key from the top of her stocking,
which she’d neatly folded down to hold it, and opened a wooden door in
the side of the wall.
Inside, despite the age of the building, was a room with new
furniture. There was a chair with a rattan seat, a soft carpet on the
floor, and, in the corner, a vanity with a mirror and a place for me to
sit and do my makeup. In the center of the room was a big bed with
brass railings at both ends. Above, ominously, hung chains, two on the
stone wall at the head of the bed and two suspended over the bed, fixed
to the ceiling.
A bathroom beckoned in an adjoining room, seen through an open
door. “It’s a communal bath,” Lisa said. “But the bedroom’s private,
if your master permits the door to be closed.” She drew me to the
vanity. There was a vase of fresh roses there, still dripping with
dew. She let me bend close and sniff them. “Jasmine will come in a
little while and whip you,” Lisa said. “She may bring your master to
watch, or she may do it alone.” I started, my face bent to the
flowers. Lisa saw my surprise and patted my bottom. “You are
well-formed for it,” she said. “You would not have been selected if you
weren’t. Brent’s very picky, and only the best girls are accepted
here. The photographer in L.A. faxed us your photo, did you know
that?” She pointed to jars and phials arranged on the vanity. “Don’t
worry, there’s plenty here to soothe your bottom when she’s done. I’ll
take care of that. Would you like a mint?” she opened the top of a
small glass container. Inside were small wrapped mints, expensive ones,
with a German name stamped on each of them.
“Thank you,” I said. She plucked one from the bowl and
unwrapped it for me. I felt submissive. She made me open my mouth for
her and she popped it in. “Let’s get you all ready for Jasmine,” she
said. The mint melted on my tongue. I swallowed. “Come, it’s my duty
to give you your bath.”
We stepped into the communal bathroom. It was made of cedar
wood, with a rich odor wafting up from the planks which surrounded us.
Along one wall a sunken tub waited to be filled. There was one commode,
and a bidet, plus a long countertop with plenty of room for the sink and
various brushes and combs and bottles and lotions. I saw a glass with
three toothbrushes standing up in it.
Lisa began the tub water and then opened the medicine cabinet.
Inside was a small packet of birth control pills. She removed it and
filled a glass with water. “Open wide,” she told me. I did and she
popped in the pill and made me take a big gulp of water. “There, now
you’re all set,” she said, and patted my fanny. She made me take off my
stockings and shoes and get in the tub. She added bubbles to make the
water scented. I splashed awhile, enjoying the heat, the freedom, Lisa
kneeling beside the tub, watching me, happy, observant but unobtrusive.
Finally she made me stop playing and she had me stand up in front of her
and she scrubbed me very freely and thoroughly with a sponge.
When I got out of the tub my whole body was tingling. Lisa
dried me with a big fluffy towel. Then she drew me back into the other
room, leaving the bathroom door open. Beside the vanity she put a
leather collar around my neck. It was black, like soft felt inside,
shiny on the outside. She locked it around my throat so that I couldn’t
remove it. “This helps us control you, if we need to grab you or tie
you or anything,” Lisa explained. “It’s also a sign of your
submission. It’ll be replaced by a black frill, like I’m wearing around
my neck, when you graduate.” She kissed my cheek. “Now hop into bed.
Jasmine will be here soon.”
“I-” How could I say this to her? That I was having second
thoughts, that I wanted to go home. “I don’t want to go through with
this,” I said in a small, halting voice.
“That’s fine,” Lisa said. “We’ll be sterner with you if you
resist. Some girls need that.”
“No, I mean, REALLY--!” I said, but she simply took my arm and
led me to the big bed and, when I refused to get in, she tumbled me into
it. I was afraid and as a result my knees were wobbly and so when she
pushed me, unexpectedly, I fell quite easily.
I lay under her gaze, awkward, newly fallen, my knees partly
drawn up to my chest, my legs long and coltish. My chest heaved with my
fear and my bosoms wobbled. My nipples were stiffer than I’d ever felt
them. I raised my hands, covered them. I tried to close my thighs to
keep her from seeing my bush. “Resist if you like. Jasmine has trained
all kinds,” Lisa smiled. She walked from the room, naked as myself but
wearing only a frill round her neck, plus her stockings and heels. I
was utterly nude now, without a single stitch of clothing, collared like
an animal.
Lisa stopped at the door, turned, and blew me a kiss. Then she
stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind her. I heard her
turn the key in the lock.
I jumped up. I was free as an Indian. This wasn’t like other
books, other stories, I’d heard of, where girls were chained up in their
bedrooms. I ran to the door, struggling with my collar. It wouldn’t
come off. I grabbed the door’s handle. It wouldn’t open.
I looked about. There had to be a way out! Suddenly I heard a
door open within the bathroom. There were three doors, one inlaid
within each of the walls, with the sunken tub having a wall all to
itself. A girl stumbled into the bathroom. Her hair was lovely but she
was naked and crying. Her bottom seemed to have a deep blush upon it.
I was about to run up to her, to help her, when a huge monster-like man
emerged from the door she’d just come through.
“Drink from the toilet, bitch!” he yelled.
MR. PRUNEY
by Kenneth Pobo
Some guys at the gym
call him Mr. Pruney
because he stays and stays
and stays in the shower
watching one
man after another
so that when he finally comes
out
he’s pruney as can be
dressing slowly
not wanting
to miss a good one
despised
laughed at
it’s hard
to blame him
many gardens
are so beautiful
that you have to stay put
no matter how hard
it rains
AND IN THE END...
“There are no laments about working-class jobs on ‘Bridges to
Babylon’, the group’s new album, just good old-fashioned lust through
the dark glasses of a dirty old man.”
- The Economist, October 25, 1997, pg. 32 (on the Rolling Stones and
Mick Jagger).
-------------------------- 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:
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or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
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-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope 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 313 EMISSION GOD IS GAY !
- “Yet... Mr. Jagger [is] a surprisingly well-read and courteous man
off-stage.” (Ibid.)
--
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