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From: roller66@inreach.com (Andrew Roller)
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 265 Bush League (nnd) g2
YES, I GOT KICKED OFF AOL
Dear Reader, the right-wing Christians finally managed to get me
kicked off of America Online. I was told by America Online that my web
page violated their "Terms of Service." As you know, my web page was
titled "holy joe's Totally Worthless web page." It had absolutely nothing
on it. There was a very poor drawing of a hobo's face, and a very
abbreviated statement of how to subscribe to this newsletter.
There was, of course, no appeal from AOL's decision to terminate
my account. My AOL web page and my AOL ftp sites no longer exist. They
have been destroyed by AOL.
For all I know, I may be kicked off this new service, InReach
Internet, by the right-wing Christians. I will do my best to continue
publishing this newsletter.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 265
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bush League
Chapter Two
I managed to tip my head slightly to one side. There, on the
couch, sat my lover, with Cheyenne sitting primly beside him. She was
still clad in her panties, but Louis' cock reared up through his pants fly.
Andre's was similarly displayed. Cheyenne was playing her mittened
fingers underneath their cocks, very lightly, as if preparing them for
something herself.
"Oh, how I would love to trade Fleury for one of you!" Rose
declared, seeing Cheyenne entertaining the twin cocks. Suddenly, in my
mind, I saw Louis tied in my place, with his cock stemming high, waving
like a third pole, but without the bunting, and the little silken whip
raining down on his balls and his glans. I felt a rush of excitement
between my legs.
"I've struck oil!" Sylvia announced for all the world to hear. My
essence was secreting itself. I heard a laugh and turned my head and
blushed as I saw people outside, looking in, some nicely dressed, others
just in swimsuits. They stared at my gagged face. But they looked more
intensely at my breasts, or especially between my legs, where a lifting of
Sylvia's head to catch her breath allowed the guests outside to see my
slit. Wide open, yielding, quite wet now. Rose eased Sylvia's head aside
and brought her whip down once more.
I howled. My breasts shook. Joanne lifted her face and let Rose
strike my titties. Then my cunt again. Then my titties. After each blow
my twin girlfriends immediately attempted to soothe me with their tongues.
On and on it went. In the distance Cheyenne kept fingering Louis and
Andre's cock, very discreetly. They undid her panties at last, slipping
the drawstrings. They got up and urged her toward the dias. She cried out
and dropped her purse.
"Yes, you must be next dear. You are too pretty to pass up," Rose
said. I was untied by Joanne and Sylvia. I was shunted aside like a toy
from some Christmas past and Cheyenne was fastened down in my place. They
did not bother to change the silk cloth on the bolster. They stuffed her
panties in her mouth, skipped the gag, and began beating her with the whip.
I lay curled in a fetal position nearby. My cunny stung, my
nipples stung, my bottom was still sore from last night. All my tenderest
places, which should have been properly clothed, were nude and stinging.
They made Cheyenne suffer just as I had. Joanne and Sylvia tongued her to
give her a little respite from the blows. Louis and Andre watched,
standing over her, ignoring me, letting their pricks stand out like hard
locks, but not touching them, for Rose insisted they must not.
"Now for you, Andre," Rose said when Cheyenne's turn was over.
Bawling, she was rolled over to me and Louis laughingly tied his friend
down. Joanne and Sylvia helped, as well as Rose. Andre was resistant.
But he did not use all his strength to prevent his fate, and so at last
Louis won, and to my heartbeating surprise I found myself staring at
Andre's big sausage-like pecker, sticking straight up and showing its
glory. Even Cheyenne stopped her sobbing to admire such a glorious sight.
Rose licked her lips and began the torture. At once Andre
shouted. It hurt far worse than he imagined. Rose eased up a little and
played over him awhile. She stung his cock all up and down its length.
Andre asked her to spare his nuts but she did not. Despite her wishes to
see him be a father, she bounced the cruel tips all over his bulging sack
with its precious twin testicles. Andre bellowed like a steer being
neutered. The guests outside laughed. It was not their genitals on
display, suffering under the cat. "Cum, cum, cum," Joanne and Sylvia began
chanting. Cheyenne joined them. Rose chimed in, timing each "cum" with
another blow of her cat. I could not speak. I was still gagged.
A recess was called. Joanne and Sylvia were permitted to tongue
and soothe our bold hero's loins. Andre whimpered like a dog. It was so
pleasurable, feeling two young females attend to his stiff groin, and yet
the whip was such agony, its sting lasting even as Joanne and Sylvia did
their best to make him feel only pleasure.
"What? The girls didn't make you cum? After all that work?" Rose
scolded Andre when Joanne and Sylvia stopped to catch their breaths. They
had really given him their all, hoping to make him cum so Rose would
release him. Andre seemed confused. To cum was often a crime here,
spoiling our pleasure. Yet now it seemed to be required. But for Andre,
cumming was now a more distant option, for instead of letting the girls
please him again Rose beat him instead.
WHICKCK! WHICKCK! came the silken, knotted cords down on poor
Andre's shaft and balls. I was feeling quite sorry for him now, knowing
how much Rose's torture had hurt me. Still gagged, but with my hands free,
I suddenly leapt up and crawled to Andre and grabbed his cock with both my
hands.
"No! No more!" I cried. My words were mangled but there was no
mistaking my desire. My breasts wiggled freely beneath me. My bottom
stuck out in back, impudently, and I had no doubt Louis felt like kicking
me in the ass with his sharp pointed shoes. Andre's pants, removed and
discarded, lay dangling off the edge of the dias. He was helpless. Only I
cared enough to save him. I put my cheek to his penis and, despite the
gag, I rubbed my cheek up and down his meaty pole.
Rose relented. She let me have Andre all to myself. Joanne bent
down and untied my gag for me. I spit it out as soon as I could. Awful
thing. It had my saliva on it and would have had my blood on it too if I'd
been allowed to bite as I'd wished to. Hungrily I stuffed Andre's poor
organ into my mouth. I did not care about anything except getting as much
of his injured tool safely into my mouth as I could. I rammed him down my
throat. I gagged on his penis but I did not try to stop myself.
Louis gazed down at me. Sylvia watched with amusement. Rose let
her cat dangle, unsure how to proceed, or whether to proceed at all. I
felt like a little rabbit, hunched down, my eyes attentive, my mouth gorged
on Andre's manhood. For at least a minute all remained like this, the
crowd watching, Cheyenne watching, Louis watching. And then, deep in my
throat, I felt a sudden spurting. Andre shouted like a boy having his
first spurt. His mouth gasped. The crowd outside erupted into laughter
and then, after a moment, applause. I let Andre jet deep into my throat.
I worked as best as I could to swallow all he gave me. It was too much,
though, and it came oozing and then rushing out of my widespread lips,
running down the length of his sausage that I hadn't been able to fit into
me.
After an especially long ejaculation, my palms palming his balls
and feeling their swelling ease, Andre sighed. I felt his huge worm lose
some of its hardness within my mouth and throat. Down he slipped,
retracting on his own. At last I spat out his cockhead, regretfully. I
gazed at its saliva slicked surface, a sheen of his own sperm mingled with
my eager spit. I kissed his softened cockhead and stood. I grimaced as,
in standing, I felt the torture anew upon my cunt, where Rose had beaten
me. I stumbled backward and Louis caught me.
Cheyenne crawled to me and placed her mouth upon my bush. I stood
hanging in Louis's arms, my legs akimbo, my cunny pulsing. Oblivious to
her own pain, Cheyenne began tonguing me. Then, lightly, carefully, she
put a hand to her own slit as she licked mine. It was no use, I saw. She
could not touch herself with her fingertips. It was too painful. But a
tongue would be just right. She desisted, taking her fingers away from
herself, but nobody came to her aid. Joanne had gone down on Sylvia, the
two of them entertaining each other, while Rose found herself consoling
Andre and, eventually, lying with him on the dias and kissing him again and
again, running her hands over his chest, toying with his cat-kissed member.
Cheyenne remained kneeling disciple-like before me. She tongued
me until my chest heaved and my bosoms bounced, my breath coming in quick
gasps and then fretful moans and finally blurting out orgasmic screams. As
soon as I'd had my turn, I let Louis drop me and I licked Cheyenne between
her own legs. She trembled under my tonguings. Louis watched with
fascination. He began stroking himself. He warned us he would spurt all
over our lovely hair but we didn't care. Cheyenne gazed up at him, her
breasts bare, her nipples hard and her eyes soft. Her mouth mouthed out
gasps of increasing pleasure. At last, under my helpful tongue, she cried
out in alarm and felt herself go over the edge. As soon as she did, Louis
hosed us both down with his sperm.
"Louis!" I cried, my mouth buried in Cheyenne's cunt. I didn't
really think he would do it, perhaps, but he did, and I knew I'd have to
spend an hour in the tub now getting all his stickiness out. He spurted
over me, then, showing enormous restraint, he waggled over to Cheyenne's
face and gave her the rest of himself, squirting her right on her nose and
then decorating her lovely brown hair as if it were a chocolate cake in
search of vanilla icing.
"Oh, Louis!" Cheyenne breathed, but she was otherwise to
pleasurably entertained by my mouth to protest. I finished her, then
lifted my face and kissed Louis's leg. He smiled at me. There were
drippings left, and he turned and offered to sprinkle them over me. I let
him. It was too late now. I was doomed to the bath anyhow.
After all of us were spent we went our separate ways. Louis and
Cheyenne, and I, however, agreed to take our bath together. As the sun set
outside, we all spent the next hour in my bathtub in my room. We soaped
each other's privates, Louis doing Cheyenne and I very tenderly, so as not
to hurt us. Then Cheyenne and I did him. We washed our hair, too,
Cheyenne and I, and it took awhile to get Louis's very virile sperm out of
our hair, but Louis helped a little, massaging our scalps and kissing our
eyelids.
Afterwards, standing outside the tub and patting each other down
with a towel, Cheyenne made a suggestion. "Let's go downstairs and get a
bite to eat and then come back up and start all over again, in bed," she
said. Her eyes glowed. Despite my whipping I felt renewed somehow within
my cunny lips and along the tips of my tits. My bottom felt better, my
weal sinking back down flush with my skin. I looked at her. She looked at
me. Louis gazed at us with a male's possessiveness and we both giggled as
we watched his cock begin to rise.
"Just tongues this time, no whip," I said to Cheyenne.
"Yes, please," she answered.
"Okay," I agreed. We leaned into each other, our hands at our
sides, and let our tongues touch, opening our mouths to let them out.
Louis caressed our bottoms.
"Come on! I'm hungry!" Cheyenne said suddenly, breaking our kiss.
We couldn't continue or we'd wind up going all night on empty stomachs.
She turned and took my hand and we walked together to the bathroom door.
Cheyenne beckoned for Louis who was beside us like a hound in heat, and she
took his hand also. Together we marched downstairs, quite naked. Nobody
minded seeing us munching in the kitchen. Our bodies were lithe and
tanned. Our boobies were cute and full and white, a nice contrast to our
limbs and tummies, and our bottoms matched our boobs, with even my marks
from my whipping by Bambi almost gone. Cheyenne's bottom had yet to feel
the lash. Louis, of course, was a real attention getter, with his giant
organ sticking straight up by now, an open invitation to any female within
200 miles. We found ourselves joined by curious spectators in the kitchen,
and the recipients of many offers, but we declined them all. When we were
done eating we retreated upstairs, where some kind soul had changed my
bedsheets yet again. But we knew they'd soon require changing yet again,
for as soon as we hit the sheets Louis was already dripping pre-cum on
them. Cheyenne and I quickly set about getting each other moist also. We
spent the night tearing the bed apart, moaning and crying aloud and loving
each other til dawn. No whips, no punishments, just the sensuous torture
of delicate tongues and probing fingers and, amidst it all, Louis's
powerful cock.
"It's morning, time to go to sleep," Cheyenne said to me at last.
She giggled and took my face in her hands and kissed me.
"Yeth," I answered. Louis's groin was against my bottom but he
was utterly spent now. There was a wet spot under my hip. My cunny and
bottomhole ached with his comings and goings. Cheyenne was as ravaged as
me. I felt down between her legs for her slit and she winced as I touched
it.
"Oh, please don't," she begged.
"I'm worn out too," I admitted. And, speaking in hushed tones
like that to each other in the fresh light of dawn, we fell into a deep,
exhausted sleep.
Chapter Three
We slept all day. Eventually Louis got up. In my sleepiness I
felt him draw back the bedcovers after he'd slipped out, to admire Cheyenne
and I. We lay face to face, on our tummies, with our white bottoms
sticking up at him. Her arm was crossed protectively over my waist. She
was, after all, a little older than me.
Louis traced his finger down the cleft of my bottom. It was all
better. I could feel that. I tensed my cheeks a little. In my mind I
hoped he'd pry me apart and force me to take him up the ass. But he must
have thought I wanted him to desist, for he withdrew his finger. He
replaced the bedcovers. I sighed, a little remorseful, but he took it for
contentment and turned and strode from the room. A father checking on his
child, finding her asleep in her crib. He left. I was alone with
Cheyenne. She stirred a little and nuzzled me with her nose. Her mouth
exhaled into mine. It was sweet, in a female, primalistic sort of way. I
drifted off to sleep again, feeling quite protected, thank you, despite the
presence of the post above my head, where I'd been tied and beaten. It was
somnolent now, tucked back against the wall, like a penis put back in a
man's pants after he's done using it.
Later I heard Polly shrieking. I wondered, listened. Yes. She
was running around the castle and had gotten Louis and Andre to chase her.
When they flagged in their attempts to catch her she teased them. My, such
lurid taunts she used. Where did she learn those? And then she'd be
screaming again, delightedly, as the two big men raced after her. Back and
forth through the trees they must be running now, for her screams did not
disappear round the backside of the castle as before, but remained below my
window, more distant, then closer again.
HOT OFF THE PRESS
by holy joe
Kinky Konnections, May 1997, $5.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint pages.
Kinky Konnections, P.O. Box 2116, New York, NY 10116-2116.
Review: A little maiden, who looks about 12-years-old, gazes out
at you. She is clad in black leather. She is clutching a big riding crop.
"Welcome to Flog Castle," reads the copy (pg. 34).
Eagerly, you turn the page. EEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Some poor fuck, on page 36, looks like he's getting something
jammed up his ass, though you can't quite see what it is.
This is a magazine for men who like to be dominated by women. I
have always wondered about the masculinity of men who like to be dominated
by women. It seems to me that they're closet homosexuals. I could see,
perhaps, being dominated by a 12-year-old maiden. I don't think that would
make one into a fag. But being dominated by a woman seems to me, at least,
to be only one step away from faggotry.
This magazine arrived in my mailbox for free, presumably in hopes
of getting a free review. If you're a man who likes being dominated by
women, and likes lots of other dirty shit besides that, you'll enjoy this
magazine. (For those with high-class taste, I highly recommend page 34.
The rest of this magazine can be tossed in the trash.)
Exotic Magazine, April 1997, $1.95. Glossy cover, many newsprint pages. X
Publishing, Inc., 625 SW 10th Avenue, Suite 324B, Portland, OR 97205.
email: xmag@teleport.com www: http://www.xmag.com
Review: J.G. Ballard is a fairly good science fiction writer. He
also wrote a book about people who like getting in car wrecks. Recently,
this book (I'm not sure of its title) was made into a movie. The movie is
called "Crash."
That's about the most interesting thing in this magazine, based on
my cursory review of it. (I got this magazine for free). What I actually
like reading most in each issue of this magazine is "Carnal Knowledge."
This column contains brief comments by the magazine's editor, on page two.
This issue the editor reports various problems with the cover of his
previous issue:
"Never have we received as many complaints about our cover (from
prudish people without a clue) railing about the effect of the cover on
children. One lady called to complain that the cover in the newsracks
downtown had butt cheeks exactly the height of her little boy's eyes."
Such is life in 1990's America, where even a female in a thong can
provoke outrage.
AND IN THE END...
DOWN WITH PEDOPHILES!
"When you find something that everybody agrees on, you can be sure of one
thing. That it's wrong."
- Congressman Morris Udall
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age
statement to: roller66@inreach.com
-To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love
Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-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 265 EMISSION
- Udall: The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, May 9, 1997.
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