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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 317 Nudie Nursery (nnd) g2
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TAKE HEART, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE
“- Now what is the meaning of this word retreat and why is it
allowed on all hands to be a most salutary practice? A retreat, my dear
boys, signifies a withdrawal for a while from the cares of our life, the
cares of this workaday world, in order to examine the state of our
conscience, to reflect on the mysteries of girls and to understand
better why we are here in this world. During these few minutes I intend
to put before you some thoughts concerning the four last things. They
are, as you know from your Fuck Decency, girls, girls, girls and girls.
We shall try to understand them fully during these few minutes so that
we may derive from the understanding of them a lasting benefit to our
souls. And remember, my dear boys, that we have been sent into this
world for one thing and for one thing alone: to fuck girls and to save
our immortal souls from evil women. All else is worthless. One thing
alone is needful, the salvation of one’s soul. What doth it profit a
man to gain the whole world if he suffer the loss of his immortal soul
to a woman? Ah, my dear boys, believe me there is nothing in this
wretched world that can make up for such a loss.”
- James Joyce, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (slightly altered).
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: Crab the dog
Issue No. 317
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Nudie Nursery
Chapter Four
Jasmine sauntered over to him and clasped his zipper between
his fingers. Sneaking a peek over her shoulder, Missy told me that it
looked like she was going (to her, at least) to pull out his cock, but
instead Jasmine zipped him back up.
“You must understand that they are the property of another,”
Jasmine told our intellectual friend. “Just as I will protect your
girlfriend, so I must protect them.”
“I will gladly pay,” the intellectual footballer said, reaching
into his pocket. Mindy whispered to me what was happening as she stole
her peeks.
“Not now, but I’ll let you warm up with them,” Jasmine smiled.
“There are, let me see, why there are three chairs here! Sit down,
boys, and go ahead and unzip yourselves. Play with yourselves freely,
but try not to shoot! If you can hold yourselves in I’ll finish you off
when I’m done with these two!”
“Now that’s a bargain!” the two crew-cut footballers agreed,
though Missy thought the intellectual one might have been a bit miffed.
The three of them swaggered to chairs arranged across from our bed and
plopped down and undid their pants. Out, like three big bananas, came
their cocks. At once, with sly glances at each other, they began
jacking themselves.
“Missy! Kelly! You two are quite fortunate; you especially,
Kelly. You’ve won a reprieve from your morning spankings. Get up! No
spankings! Brent wants to take you both out and he wants you to be able
to sit down.” Jasmine clapped her hands and Missy and I flipped back
onto our bottoms, both of us wincing a little as we bounced them on the
soft sheet of the bed. I could still feel the marks she’d given me.
Jasmine smiled as she saw me feel them. They were like dull streaks of
fire across my heinie. Jasmine took my hand and pulled me from my bed.
Missy, like a kid sister, hopped out of bed behind me.
“First we must measure you,” Jasmine told us. “Over there!
Both of you, against the wall! Let’s see how tall you are!” I noticed
a Sesame Street measuring tape, a foot broad, running up the side of the
bedroom wall. It was behind the door and Jasmine marched both Missy and
I over to it. I had to step over the stretched out legs of one of the
footballers to reach the tape. I think he reached out to pinch my naked
fanny but Jasmine sluiced her whip down between his reaching fingers and
my bulbing ass, protecting me from his touch.
I backup up to a Smiling picture of Big Bird. Amidst his
yellow feathers the tape measure ran. He smiled, gaily, holding up the
measurer. Jasmine put her crop flat against the top of my head and
announced my height. Then she did the same to Missy.
“Up with your arms, girls, I must measure your busts,” Jasmine
said. She produced a small rolled tape measure from her jeans pocket,
made of soft cloth. She had me stand out a little from the wall and she
wrapped the tape right round my nipples, indenting them. She did my
hips next, then measured me from my pubic thatch to my neck. She did
the same with Missy. All the while our three male visitors played with
their big pricks, watching. Jasmine bent and measured my feet. Her
jeans rode up her hips in back and showed the men the undercheeks of her
bottom.
“God, what an ass! I get first dibs on plunging into that!”
one of the crewcut lads proclaimed. Jasmine just smiled, and went on to
measure Missy’s feet. We both had small feet. The Chinese would have
liked them.
“Alright, girls! Just a little more trimming and your coats
should be ready. Brent’s bought you both new fur coats to make you feel
special.” She smiled at me. Did I have two fur coats now? “But
remember, whatever you’re given here is for his pleasure, girls,”
Jasmine continued. “Don’t think the furs are yours, even if they’re
specially made. You are both little toys, and he owns you, and he owns
the clothes on your back, too. So enjoy them, but don’t treasure them.
He’ll buy you some very nice things when you both get sent home, if
you’ve made him happy.” There was a look in her eyes of warning, and
promise. She tossed her lovely dark hair and smiled a possessive smile.
“Do we HAVE to dress in front of those three lugs?” Missy
declared. She was as eager to get into clothes as I.
“Girls, you should know I am the absolute feminist,” Jasmine
said. She put a hand to Missy’s hair and brushed it with her fingers.
“But there is a time to control, and there is a time to be controlled.
And,” she added, conspiratorially, “there is even such a thing as
controlling by submitting, and by being beautiful. Do boys like you,
Missy?”
“Of course,” Missy said scornfully. She tossed her hair and
seemed not to wish to have Jasmine attend to it.
“And they would kill each other to have you, wouldn’t they?”
Jasmine asked. Missy looked at her, guessed at her meaning, and
smiled. “And all you need do is look beautiful, hmmm?” Jasmine reached
out and made Missy let her brush at her hair.
“Well,” Missy looked down at her toes. I looked down at mine
and I watched as hers curled up under her feet and I copied her.
Missy’s breath exhaled and her tummy protruded a moment, as if she were
but a sweet teddy bear.
“Here you exist for the pleasure of men,” Jasmine said to us
both. She put a hand under Missy’s chin and lifted her eyes so that she
was forced to look up at her. “No complaining, sweet dear. I will
protect you from men, as I see fit. Otherwise, you are to not worry the
least about them. If they wish to gawk, let them! They are twice your
age.”
Missy pulled her chin away from Jasmine’s fingers and gazed at
our three paramours. “I don’t like them,” she sniffed. “Two have hair
that’s too short, and one has hair that’s too long. And as for their...
THINGIES... well, they’re nice I guess, but I’m not in the mood this
morning!” Missy stomped out past Jasmine, past the men, and over to my
vanity. She found her lollipop on my pillow and plucked it from the
bed. Standing in front of the vanity’s mirror, sucking her lollipop,
she brushed back her hair with her hand. Her heinie, bare as the day
she was born, tensed and released, then tensed again.
“That girl is just begging to be spanked!” Jasmine said to
herself, aloud, under her breath. I brushed back my own hair and
followed her, much more modestly, back across the room to where Missy
stood.
Jasmine made us both stand facing the mirror. She palmed our
bottoms. We were glorious as newborns, but she was past pampering us.
“Missy, you will do just as I say, or I swear you’ll stay behind and not
get to go out with Brent and Kelly. You’ll be spanked until you can’t
sit, and then you’ll be made to clean all the bathroom floor in my house
with a sponge in your mouth. And, just in case you think that’s fun,
I’ll have these three ‘lugs,’ as you call them, pee on the floors for
you!”
I put my hands to my mouth and failed to suppress a giggle. I
don’t know what Missy thought of all that, but I guess she decided being
laughed at by me was more than she wished to bear.
“Okay,” Missy said, but kept on licking her lollipop as she
spoke, as if to muffle her consent so it could barely be heard.
Jasmine slapped Missy’s bottom. The girl stood up on her
tippy-toes. Her fanny was still sore from last night.
“Owoooh!” Missy keened. Ruefully she reached back and rubbed
her bottom.
“Yes, little one, you are going to be sexually trained,”
Jasmine said to her. “You’re too big to just be spanked like a bad
girl. I’m giving you to Brent and I expect you to be on your best
behavior. You’ll be a woman when you leave here. Your parents won’t
know what to think!”
I realized, standing there in the all together, that I had to
go to the bathroom. I put my hands to my pussy, discreetly. It had
been so amazing, waking up to the sight of three athletic men in my
room, I’d not even thought of my bladder!
Jasmine saw my hands in the mirror. She laughed. She looked
down at me and I, with a self-conscious wriggle of my bottom, looked up
at her. “Gentlemen, you’re about to see two little girls pee!” Jasmine
called out. She looked over her shoulder at our guests. I blushed. My
fingers fidgeted in my nest. Missy’s cheeks colored. She had to go
just as I did.
We peed for them in the bathroom. Missy managed to slip in
ahead of me and I had to wait while she peed. She pretended like she
had to do number two also, but Jasmine yanked her up from the toilet. I
went next, the men watching. They were intrigued. You’d have thought
they were watching sports.
Jasmine had Missy and I take a quick dip in the tub. Then we
put on new makeup, and brushed out our hair. The men watched, rubbing
themselves. One of them almost came as I bent forward to put on some
lipstick.
Back in the bedroom, Jasmine had a new surprise for us. She
handed Missy and I each a teensy pile of string.
“Put these on,” Jasmine told us.
“What are they?” Missy asked.
“Bikinis, silly,” I guessed. They were even smaller than the
ones Sherry and I had worn.
Missy untangled her bikini and stared at it. “I can’t tell
which is the top and which is the bottom!” she said. And, looking at
mine, I could see I had the same problem. There were two tiny pieces of
fabric for the bra cups, and two tiny pieces of fabric for the front and
back of our panties.
“This half looks like the panties to me, try it on!” Jasmine
told Missy. She pointed to me which half I should try first. I put the
bra on the vanity and slipped the bikini panties around my waist.
Pulling them through my crotch, I realized to my horror that nothing but
string went through my labial lips.
“This must be the bra!” I said hopefully. But a glance at
Jasmine told me it wasn’t so. These were, indeed, the panties. A
miniscule triangle of fabric hoped (vainly) to cover my pubic delta. My
tail, meanwhile, had a little vee of fabric centered at the base of my
bottom cheeks. It hid perhaps an inch of my bottomcrack. The rest of
me was left bare.
“I’m afraid Brent picked out bedroom bikinis for you girls to
wear to brunch with him,” Jasmine smiled at Missy and me. We stood half
in and mostly out of our bikinis, staring at her, holding the string of
our undies in our hands and wondering whether there was any point in
even tying them on. Jasmine assured us that we did, indeed, have to tie
ourselves into them. The men watched Missy and I as we struggled with
the loose bits of string. Finally, after much suffering, we managed to
get all suited up in both our nothing undies and our postage stamp bras.
I looked at myself in the vanity mirror. A string as thin as
spaghetti crossed over the mounds of my breasts. Where my two nipples
protruded, two small cups, made of felt-like fabric, attempted to keep
me modest. As I stared at myself my nipples perked up and the twin
little cups rose up like tiny peaked mountains. They bared my areolas,
leaving nothing but the tips of my nipples themselves covered! Down
below my belly, meanwhile, my pubic thatch showed itself as naturally as
if I were naked. Somewhere down where my legs met, a small bit of
fabric showed. Spaghetti drawstrings crossing my waistline dipped down
to the pouch. But it was so insubstantial as to only offer itself as a
decoration. Beyond, between my squeezing thighs, I had nothing but a
string running through my cunt lips. And then, where the cheeks of my
bottom tensed together, there was another useless bit of fabric. It was
a little V-shaped morsel, more an embarrassment than anything else, and
it offered, quite pointlessly, to cover the lowest bit of my asscrack.
“Did these shrink in the drier?” I asked Jasmine. She smiled.
“You wouldn’t want to get your bikini wet,” she assured me.
“It’s made of cashmere and it would just come apart. Try not to,
well...” she smiled conspiratorially. “Don’t get too excited!”
I stepped back from the mirror and adjusted the cups of my
bra. Even though the cups were the tiniest morsels of fabric
imaginable, they still worked like any other bikini cups, having string
running through their undersides. I had to tug on them to get them
centered just right over what little of me they covered. Whenever I
moved, they seemed to move too. I reached back and untied my top and
then retied it, more tightly. Hopefully that would hold them.
“Wah! This won’t stay on!” Missy lamented. She was finding
her bikini as frustrating to wear as I was mine. Jasmine retied her top
and bottom for her. I did my bottoms up again and then, turning to walk
to the bathroom to get a hairbrush I liked, I felt a shivery tingle run
up inside me.
“Ooooh! This soft little string rubs me right on my clitty!” I
exclaimed. I suppose, with men in the room, I shouldn’t have been quite
so descriptive, but the feeling the string made just caused me to blurt
it right out.
Jasmine laughed. Missy, who was having her bottoms tied up,
took a step, experimentally, and felt the same sensation.
“Hmmm, it must be a design flaw,” Jasmine said. I glared at
her.
“Don’t tell me they forgot to put in the crotch of our undies
by accident!” I said. Missy took another step. Jasmine clapped a hand
to her belly and made her hold still.
“We should go hiking in these,” Missy said to me.
“Yeah, right.” I replied. I wasn’t too keen on having an
orgasm with every step but she seemed to like it. When Jasmine had
finished tying her up she tugged on her bottoms to make them fit into
her as snugly as possible.
“Oooh, these are so naughty,” Missy said admiringly. She
pranced around the room, emitting little gasps with every step. “Are we
going to an orgy?” she asked. I think she was somehow supposing we were
dressing for breakfast in the East Wing of the building.
“Why no, dear. You’re going OUT for brunch,” Jasmine smiled.
“Out in public.”
POETRY
by Jim DeWitt
OH I’VE JUST GOT TO TELL YOU
about how I do love feeling Stud’s
extra large sausageness
I want to keep on “seeing” him
on the sly forever
so I can open up to him countless times
let him ram his length way up me
to kingdom come --
just watch, open-mouthed I’m almost
passing out for joy every time we do it
but afterward its so deep-inside sore
I’ve got to make those “headache tonight”
excuses to my horny husband --
well at least I won’t have to pay
those visits to a gynecologist any more
to be examined up me
for “some mysterious problem” because
we know exactly what the cause is --
so patience, only a few more days yet
my love, do we have to back off
instead please do keep finger-playing me
or sliding just your head in
real shallow but that’s all, promise?
AND IN THE END...
MORE VICTORIES IN THE DRUG WAR!
(Government knows best ! )
“A University of Michigan study has found that the proportion
of 13- and 14-year-olds taking drugs has risen from 11 percent in 1991
to 24 percent in 1997. A smaller Texas A&M University study found that
31 percent of 13-year-olds in Dallas are now dabbling in drugs.”
- The Economist, December 6, 1997, pg. 27.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Other providers:
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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 317 EMISSION
- Amen
--
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