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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 372 Passions Playpen NND g2
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Just when you thought it was safe to open your mail...
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 372
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter Three
“You will lose all your cherries here, but gain a few weals,”
the woman laughed. It was her first show of emotion, and her bosoms
hove within her apron, large watermelons too big and weighty and close
to the earth to delight men’s eyes, but they might have been sought
after when she was young like Kate.
“Did you ever?” Kate asked, pausing, feeling within herself to
see if her hole was okay. It felt okay. But it was difficult, feeling
her butthole. It was in back of her, after all!
“I do not do such foolish things,” the woman said
dismissively. She waved her sponge in the air, flicking a little soap
onto the wall.
“But, when you were younger...” Kate offered.
“I work. Stalin make us work. Then I marry young. No time
for such foolishness. But you Americans always like sex, that’s what
they teach us in Russia. All American girls like popping their cherries
and would corrupt Russia if it were not for Stalin. So we were told.
Now, I think there might be girls like you in Russia, but I am there no
longer. I am here now, and Maria pay me very well because I keep
everything tidy and clean. And, you know, the men are not bad to look
at. Not bad at all...” the woman said, and she smiled, but mostly to
herself.
“Have you--?” Kate asked, feeling like a small child talking to
a newly arrived grandmother.
“Ah, your lover! Please do not ask me speak of him. He is an
entertaining fellow!” the woman replied. And she let her eyes dart and
her hands move in such a way that Kate guessed she’d seen his erection.
“He is, like we say in Russia, a good friend to the lady mule if the man
mule should expire.” The woman laughed again. Kate blushed. Her
lover’s manhood seemed to have become public knowledge in this place.
It’s length, its thickness. It was an admirable weapon, to be sure, but
Kate preferred that it not be made an item of gossip among the woman and
any friends she possessed.
Then Kate realized her own bosoms, her own cunt, would be added
to the woman’s stories. What would she tell her friends back in
Russia? “A girl, big bosoms, she likes having them hit with a crop, and
her legs too. I had to wash her. Such silly girls in America. Stalin
would straighten them out but he’s dead, alas. She has no cherries
left. No, no. Nothing to give to her husband.”
Kate felt her blush deepen and the woman, seeing that their
chat had ended, opened Kate’s legs again and thrust the sponge within
and bathed Kate’s cunt as if Kate were a fish being readied for some
Russian market. Kate was cleaned out and washed down and when the woman
was done she rinsed her with water and helped her out of the tub. She
toweled Kate down and then took her to a vanity and plopped her down in
front of it and did Kate’s hair and makeup for her.
“I can manage,” Kate said, but the woman insisted. Kate was
only to sit and let herself be worked on. She could do nothing
herself. Then, when her brows had been stenciled and her eyelashes
brushed, and her hair braided, with just two braids near her cheeks,
leaving the rest hanging free, and Kate’s lips had been brightened with
lipstick, and her nipples given just a touch of rouge, as well as her
cunny lips, the woman told Kate she was ready.
But there was yet one more necessity. “You are too free,” the
woman, who confided as she opened a slatted folding closet that her name
was Bess, said to Kate. Within the closet, on the shelves above, Kate
saw clean white towels folded neatly for the bath. But on the lower
shelves, here in the bathroom where she’d just been given her bath and
made up, Kate saw chains. They were equipped with cuffs, the links slim
and the cuffs slim. They gleamed like the silver bell had on her
nightstand beside her bed.
“I must chain your ankles and your wrists,” Bess told Kate.
“But why?” Kate asked. She contemplated the chains with a
finger in her mouth, like a child looking at an unwanted pair of shoes,
Sunday shoes perhaps, too tight and stiff for play.
“So that only your breasts are free, and your bottom. So they
may position you how you like and you will not be able to refuse. Come,
you might have visited someplace else with your lover, a hotel room
perhaps, or a motel, but you chose to visit here. Do not make me call
for help. In Russia we girls know when we must do as we are told.”
Perhaps to please the old woman, perhaps only to test how it
felt to be in such a captive state, a prisoner, really, for they were
prison chains, though covered over in silver to make them more agreeable
to Maria’s home, Kate let herself be manacled. Bess did her ankles
first, binding them with the cuffs so that Kate felt as if she were
wearing boots. But they were not boots, just anklets connected by a
length of chain. Kate tried walking a little in the anklets when the
woman had fitted them to her legs. They jangled against the tiled
floor.
“Careful not to trip over the chain,” Bess warned Kate. “The
chain should be shorter but they insisted you wear a long one so they
can easily spread your legs. Keep your head down and watch the chain at
all times. If you fall, you might be hurt, and Maria would take it very
badly. And she would punish you after the doctor left, for you are
always to be ready for sex here, not injured and disabled.”
Kate shivered in her chains. She lifted her wrists to her chin
and studied herself, feeling her forearms as they pillowed themselves
against her breasts. Her nipples were stiff. Her tummy, flat under her
bosoms, drew in a little as she held her breath. Gently Bess turned her
so that she faced the woman.
“You are hungry for a man,” Bess said openly, noticing how
moist Kate had become between her thighs since Bess had dried her after
her bath. Kate had not touched herself during the night, though she was
angry at her lover after her whipping across the backs of her thighs.
She had cried herself to sleep, rolling and tossing, and when once she
awoke and found in horror that her hand was between her thighs, she’d
drawn it up to her tummy and slapped it. ‘Bad hand,’ she’d scolded
herself. But now, letting herself be chained, probably because she was,
indeed, so thoroughly consumed with her nudity and the presence of her
lover in the house, she wished she had rubbed herself to bliss, so that
she could be more sensible now.
Bess, smiling to herself, fitted handcuffs around Kate’s
wrists. Kate tried resisting a little but the big Russian woman had no
difficulty catching Kate’s wrists and holding them in her big old hands,
thick with cream to keep them from getting age spots, though they were
spotted already. Kate felt small. Her body was frail and she was only
5 feet 2 inches tall. But her legs were slim, giving her a leggy,
runway model’s look. Her bottom cheeks were distinct juddering halves,
each full and round and jutting out like a child’s. Her hips were
slender. Her waist was very small in circumference. And there there
were her breasts, big and heavy and huge in proportion to the rest of
her, Playboy breasts. Men might have dismissed her as petite, but her
breasts announced that she was not petite where it counted. And so,
walking down the street, heads would turn, and mouths open, and a man,
busy the moment before with his thoughts and affairs, might come running
up behind her, and somehow get in front of her, just to get another look
at those delightful breasts. And then, having satisfied his urgent need
to look, he would begin to be a little embarrassed, for he was certain
he was in the presence of a schoolgirl, a minor. Kate would smile, and
give her head a toss, letting her ponytail, which she loved wearing,
bounce across her back. The man would grow more nervous, for everyone
could see him as he stared at this little girl walking calmly (if
bouncily) across the street, and he was sure they would think him a
pervert.
It was how Kate met her lover. Except he, unlike the rest, had
the courage to greet her and ask her name. She kept walking, and he had
been going in the opposite direction, but now, as she crossed the street
on her way home from school she led him right back across it. Yet he
did not desist in his efforts to get her name, and her phone number. So
she sat down finally, on a bench where busses stopped, and she let him
talk to her. She pulled her ponytail round in front of her and twirled
it in her fingers. She threaded her fingers through it, and brushed it
lightly across her breasts as he talked. She was sure it would scare
him off, looking at her pink sweater, and her pleated skirt, and her
bobby socks. But he carried the conversation quite nicely. And he
discovered, of course, that she was a college girl, and quite legal
(though still too young yet to drink). And so he dated her, and they
became lovers.
And now she was letting him take her on a wild ride she could
not have imagined two weeks ago when they met. And she wondered,
standing there in the nude, with Bess fitting her wrists into the
chained manacles, whether she’d made the right choice. She’d chosen him
for his boldness. For his refusal to bend to contemporary morals. And
now she was reaping the full harvest of that, for he was interested in
much more than just making love to her.
Yet he had been gentle, not taking her in her bottom when she
refused him there. But, then again, here she’d been most brutally
violated, last night, with Maria shoving a cucumber up her virgin ass.
Kate wondered if she needed such bizarreness to be able to let go and
surrender herself. She had, indeed, a conservative upbringing. Her
parents had not allowed her to date as much as she liked. And now,
perhaps to catch up with where she wanted to be (did she want it?) she
was letting herself in for much more than just a cock up her ass.
MAGAZINE REVIEW
by holy joe
CHERI, July 1998, $6.99. CHERI Magazine, 801 Second Avenue, New York,
NY 10017. No web site listed.
Review: Recently, I was standing at Tower Books. I was
perusing their magazine rack. I saw this issue of CHERI sitting up on
the rack. I almost didn’t pick it up. I thought, “Sure, it may be the
world’s biggest sex mag, with over 300 pages, but what good is that if
all you get is one boring pictorial after another, each featuring only
one girl?”
Then I noticed that there were only two copies of this issue
left on the newsstand. Each one of them looked rather beat-up. I have
learned that when you see only one or two copies of a magazine, and they
both look fucked, that is a strong indication that the issue is a very
good one. So, looking nervously around to make sure there weren’t any
pretty girls in the bookstore, I grabbed this issue.
Good God! What a great issue this is! This issue of CHERI may
be the greatest single porno magazine ever produced!
“Tongue Trio” (page 100) is a stunner. Three Mayfair-quality
girls play with a dildo. First, dressed in sexy club clothes, they take
turns sucking it, wearing it (with a harness) and jabbing each other
with it. Then they undress and use the dildo to squirt each other with
fluid.
Some of the shots in “Tongue Trio” are amazing. For instance,
you see a girl’s cunt, threaded by the underside of the dildo’s harness,
(which looks like a g-string) as she wears the penis. She twists the
penis up, lifting it, so that you see her bush, her (threaded) slit, and
at the same time, of course, you see the fake penis, held tightly in her
small hand. She squeezes the penis and squirts fluid into her
girlfriend’s bottomcrack. What I really liked in this pictorial was the
juxtaposition of close-up shots featuring the penis dry (not squirting)
and wet (squirting). You can see both photos on the same page, and
drool over the penis both before it shoots, and as it is shooting. At
the same time there is plenty of femininity in each photo, so that
despite staring at some man’s big (fake) cock, you are always reminded
that you’re looking at a GIRL pictorial, and you can rest assured that
you aren’t turning into a fag.
The final shot in “Tongue Trio” is a centerfold. You open it
up to see a laughing girl, her naked tits hanging down, clad in the
penis-harness and squeezing the fake dick in order to shoot fluid into
her friend’s open snatch. In this centerfold shot you see the girl who
is wearing the penis, and doing the shooting, simultaneously getting her
tits licked by the girl she is squirting with fluid. There is also
another girl in this centerfold, who is licking the tits of the girl who
is licking the tits of the girl who is shooting fluid with her fake
penis.
(No. There’s no error in that last sentence. You see a girl
licking another girl’s tits, who in turn is licking the tits of the girl
who is shooting out fluid with her fake penis. Like I said, you are
always reminded that you are looking at a GIRL pictorial when you enjoy
these photos.)
“Babes in the Woods” (page 166) is another fantastic
pictorial. It features three girls and three guys having a camp out. A
highlight of this pictorial is that these college-age girls all look
like they are having a great time. They are truly experiencing
emotional highs as they enjoy creating this pictorial. You see them
smiling, gazing at each other, and looking with surprised eyes at the
cocks of the males.
“Babes in the Woods” hits a home run when you see two girls put
a man’s naked penis into a hot dog bun. They lay his dick in the bun
and then squirt mustard on it as he, shocked, laughs his head off. Then
both girls add pickle relish. The whole time they are having a lot of
fun; these aren’t just bored actors ‘going through the motions.’ Watch
with delight as the two girls, having put condiments all over the man’s
dick, now vie with each other to lick him clean. In another photo, a
third girl puts a man’s penis between graham crackers and nibbles away
at him.
“Double Dating” (page 204) features two slave girls getting
ready for their first whipping. They are both nude. They take a nap in
bed together, waiting for their master to come home from work. As the
sun sets, they both get up out of bed, pin up their hair, and get into a
bath tub together. Watch as they carefully scrub each other, smiling
and laughing, proud to have such a wonderful master who will totally
dominate both of them. See them both check each other to make sure that
they’re both perfectly spotless, for only the most perfect girls get to
have the man who is their master. Enjoy the sight of them both drying
each other, gazing at each other’s nude bodies and blushing at how their
fair, lovely skin will soon be covered with the marks made by their
master’s whip. Drool over them casually unpinning each other’s hair and
blow-drying it, their legs open, revealing their slits, making each
other look utterly perfect for their master.
Then, on the last page, see both girls as they tie each other
up, so that their master won’t have to trouble himself with the task of
restraining them when he arrives.
Whoops! I guess I flubbed my description of that last page.
In fact, what you actually see is both girls getting dressed. They put
on clothes and go out. In the final shot you see them walking outdoors,
both of them dressed, wearing sunglasses. I guess they’re off to some
feminist convention, where they’ll learn about men’s evil desires and
the glory of being lesbians. Oh well....
This is a very great issue. I cheated a little in describing
it. “Tongue Trio” actually features two dildos, not just one. And the
‘last page’ of “Double Dating”, where the girls get dressed, is actually
several pages long. But I found I could describe better what was going
on by consolidating things.
Buy this issue! There are many other pictorials in it, each
featuring a girl by herself. I have only described the pictorials that
feature more than one person, because those were my favorite. I
consider the best pictorials in this issue to be Art. They are so
great, and done so well, that you can’t really classify them as mere
pornography.
Last but not least, I should mention an ad in this issue. It
is a phone sex ad. You might never see it, even if you buy this issue,
unless I mention it, because this issue is so jam-packed with great
pictorials. The phone sex company that is advertised is called “The
Yearbook.” Their ad appears on pages 159, 160, and 161. Their ad is a
collection of small photos, each one showing a different girl. Many of
the girls are wonderfully young. In addition to being young, many of
the girls are quite pretty. Under each photo of a bona-fide teenage
girl is provocative wording, such as:
“High school hiney”, “Rear end recess”, “I need some
guidance”, “Help me get to know my body”, “Ripe and innocent”, “My first
time from behind”, “Feel me up after school”, and “I’m home alone, wanna
play?”
What a great ad! “The Yearbook” should get an award for this
ad. I’m tempted to xerox it and mail it to every feminist in America,
not to mention right-wing Christians, politicians, parents, the PTA, and
every other person or group who’s turned America into what it is today:
a sterile police state.
When you get right down to it, there’s only one thing that’s
important on this planet. It’s even more important than this issue of
CHERI, and it’s definitely *not* women, the government, civil society,
or law and order. It’s.............
girls! And as PBS’s Ann Taylor Fleming so aptly put it, “The
younger the better.” A girl is only going to get older, so you don’t
ever have to worry about her being “too young.” That’s like saying a
car is “too new.” Sure, she might not be ready to fuck, but that
doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have her in your life. What could be more
fun than having a girl who is young and fresh, and just learning about
the world? You get to see everything new through her eyes. And if
there’s things you yourself haven’t learned yet, you get to learn them
with her, the two of you learning together.
I don’t know if “The Yearbook” is a quality phone sex company
or not, but they sure know how to make a great advertisement!
AND IN THE END...
PROTECT THE CHILDREN?
“The number of Iraqi babies who die before they are one [year
old] has more than tripled since sanctions began.”
- The Economist, April 25, 1998, pg. 45.
(This is a siege, one of the most inhumane forms of warfare.
To think that the United States of America, at the end of the 20th
century, has resorted to siege warfare is shocking. - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 372 EMISSION
PROTECT THE CHILDREN?
“America has one of the world’s highest abortion rates.”
- The Economist, May 16, 1998, Review pg. 12.
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