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Subject: FUCK DECENCY 382 Passions Playpen NND g2
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We’re the young generation,
And we’ve got something to say...
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 382
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter Four
Kate heard the sound of the someone filling something with
water. At first she thought it was the sound of a man giving a vigorous
pee. But, turning her head and looking again at the shelf, she saw that
the bucket next to the towels had been removed. Beyond Cindy and Marie
the gardener stood, with his back to them. He moved slightly, and Kate
saw that he held the bucket up near his face and was filling it from
some kind of post.
“Add rock salt to it,” Marie called to the gardener, turning
and looking back over her shoulder “I want each stroke I deliver to
give the maximum sting.”
“Oh, please ma’am!” Cindy cried. Tears burst from her eyes.
Both she and Kate, like children confronted by toys, had stopped crying
when they saw the men in the barn. But now Cindy, and Kate too, began
weeping again. Their soft tears ran down their faces and dripped onto
their breasts.
Marie pinned up Cindy’s hair.
“May I-- May I keep my babydoll on?” Cindy asked Marie as the
woman stood behind her inserting pins in her hair.
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t cover your bottom,” Marie
said. Her voice was casual, like Cindy was in a beauty shop and Marie
was about to do her hair.
“I’ll keep it on, then,” Cindy breathed.
“It might rip when I hit your back,” Marie said.
“I’ll take my chances,” Cindy said in a sobby voice. “It’s the
only protection I have!” And her voice caught in a weeping half scream,
and Kate knew they were both on the brink of some little girl’s
nightmare, lost in their sensations, overwhelmed by their nipples and
their brimming cunts and their awkward tight bottoms. With her knees
shaking, Cindy was clasped by her shoulders and turned around by Marie,
the woman moving to stay behind her. Cindy’s bottom kept gyrating. Her
cheeks, like liberated mounds of jello, wobbled and shook.
A little in front of the barn’s inside wall, past the end of
the shelf with the towels, stood a slender post. The gardener moved
away from it, his pail full, and took rock salt from a bag on the floor
and sprinkled it into his bucket. Marie pushed Cindy past the end of
the shelf to the post. It was tall and made of wood and topped by a
metal nozzle. The ground around it was free of hay and it had a circle
of tiles around it, old tiles, but none of them broken, or if any had
been broken they’d been carefully replaced. Behind the post the tiles
indented themselves into the ground and there was a drain built into the
floor.
Kate, mesmerized by the crop lying on top of the towels, had
barely noticed the shower post. Yet now, studying it, she regarded it
as someplace where sheep might be washed after a shearing. Or a calf,
castrated, might be cleaned there. But surely it was not meant for
humans! Behind it lay coiled chains, pushed up against the wall,
waiting to secure jumpy legs. Kate, following Cindy’s eyes, looked up
to the nozzle topping the shower post. Just under the nozzle hung two
pairs of handcuffs.
“Reach up and put your hands into the cuffs,” Marie told
Cindy. “Kate, come here and help her!”
Cindy, the pregnant waif who worried about the baby in her
belly, had no desire to lift up her hands and grab at the cuffs hanging
high up on the post. Kate stepped close and took hold of her wrists,
one at a time, and drew them up for her. She buckled Cindy’s hands into
the cuffs. Resistance was hopeless. Kate had no desire to earn extra
cuts for herself by refusing to truss Cindy up. The redhead, though she
shivered mightily, seemed to understand. She let Kate bind her and both
girls knew all six men were watching. Without even looking, the girls
knew the men’s cocks were thrusting at the air as they watched Cindy
bound. Kate, despite her sobs and the nervous shaking of her breasts,
tried to move as gracefully as she could. And Cindy, though weeping,
let herself be fixed with arms high to the post.
“And now you, Kate,” Marie said to the blonde. Kate gulped and
looked at the woman and realized she had no hope of refusing. So, with
the gardener and all the men watching, including her lover, Kate reached
up and caught at the handcuffs waiting for her under the head of the
shower.
“Please not too hard, ma’am,” Kate gasped. The gardener took
her two wrists and bolted them into the handcuffs as quickly and
securely as any policeman might have. Kate closed her legs to try to
protect her cunny. Cindy stood with the same stance, her thighs tightly
together.
“Girls, girls,” Marie sighed. “You offer me nothing to look at
standing like that. Show me your cunts and show your cunts to the men,
for they will be watching.”
Panting rapidly, their hearts pounding, the two captive girls
opened their legs. Marie smiled as she saw their sexes revealed, both
girls’ purses tight and clenching, promising a good workout to any man
who entered.
“That’s better,” Marie said. “The inner portion of your bottom
cheeks, down where they curve into your thighs, is known as the ‘sweet
spot,’ girls. I must have access to that. Hopefully I won’t hit your
cunts but, if I do, I guess it won’t matter, since you’re both crying
already.”
“Ohhhhh, please ma’am!” Cindy bawled. She snapped her legs
shut and Kate copied her. Cindy stamped on the tiles with her feet,
impatiently, like a child who needs to go potty.
“Bind their legs apart,” Marie said to the gardener. “You must
learn to show yourselves, girls. And to take little risks now and
then. For your excessive concern with your pussies I will give you
extra cuts, two each, and they’ll be hard ones to help you remember how
you’re to stand for the crop. Dip your backs, girls! Do you want me to
have to tie weights round your tummies?”
“Oooooh, Boo! Hoo!” Cindy trilled. Kate sounded no better,
her voice joining Cindy’s in a chorus of broken sobs as the gardener, as
efficiently as if he were dealing with animals, not slender young women,
forced the girls’ legs into wide spreader bars that left them standing
on tip-toe and feeling exquisitely open. For, despite all their
contrary protestations, there was something erotic about being utterly
split and spread and open in front of six randy men. One of the men,
able to offer nothing but his pee to the girls, did so. Kate and Cindy
heard a pissing sound and looked about, bumping their foreheads
together, and saw a man pissing boldly into the straw.
“You’ll be sliced up on your wiener for doing that,” Marie told
the man, calling to him from where she stood behind Kate and Cindy. Yet
there was a smile on her face, and Kate, in a lewd moment, wished she
could be the one to discipline the man’s penis with a crop. And looking
up, for she had not looked up at the rafters before, scolding herself
for wishing to inflict pain on the poor man, she saw it. A knife. It
hung from a string and Kate saw that it dangled directly over the man’s
erect cock. And she saw three more hung in a cluster beside it, each
sharp and deadly, so that if one fell and missed the others might be
given a try. A wind gusted into the barn and across the rafters. It
made the dangling knives turn on their strings, spiraling slowly to and
fro, waiting like bombs to be dropped on Dresden.
“No!” Kate screamed. She turned her head this way and that and
looking amongst the rafters she saw, over each man, the same set of four
sharp knives. Even her lover was placed with his cock under a set of
dangling knives.
As Kate stood screaming, her legs wide apart and her sex
showing, she watched as the gardener took a gun from his overalls. It
was an old revolver, and the gardener cocked it and aimed it at the
knives hanging over her lover.
“Miss, you will take your cuts properly, like a young lady, or
I’ll have to Bobbitize your lover,” Marie said in a cold voice, cold as
the wind that turned the knives as they hung in the rafters. “In fact,
I have a little bargain for you. If you cooperate and do your best,
taking your cuts as gracefully as you can, your lover and all five men
will be spared. But, if they are spared, if you save their cocks, I
will put your bottom to all six and you will have to endure being fucked
by them.”
Kate screamed, louder this time. But Marie laughed, her big
bosoms joggling on her chest. And for awhile Marie’s laugh nearly
drowned out Kate’s screams, she laughed so loud and so long, her hands
on her hips and her cunt thrust forward as if it might devour both
girls.
“I had to string up a lot of those knives myself,” Marie said
when the girls had screamed themselves silly and had no more to give.
Marie had waited for them, letting them cry. She enjoyed the tension
she bred in them. She used the time to pin up Kate’s hair, arranging it
carefully, as if Kate were something other than a nude barefoot girl
with semen splattered on her tummy.
MAGAZINE REVIEW
by holy joe
Perfect 10, Volume 1, Number 4, $6.95. Full color magazine, many
pages. Published quarterly. Perfect 10, Box 469115, Escondido CA
92046-9115. Toll Free Phone: 1-888-338-7897. Web:
http://www.perfectten.com Web: http://www.natural10.com
Review: Recently, I was talking to a girl. I told her she
should be a model. Her replies were as follows: “I’m too short.”
Also, “I’m not photogenic.” She even got the manager of the place where
she works to tell me not to ask her to be a model anymore.
Okay, fair enough. But I was worried. Could she be right?
Could it be true that she’s too short, and not photogenic? Could the
great holy joe eye for beautiful girls be, in fact, defective?
Yesterday I bought this magazine. As you can see, it’s called
“Perfect 10.” I opened it at random and what do I see but an EXACT
CLONE of the girl I was telling to be a model!
Buy this magazine. Open it to page 50. There you will see
Ivana Bozilovic. She is a blue-eyed blonde. She’s 5’ 4”, about the
same height as the girl I was trying to get to be a model.
Now, there are two slight differences between the girl in
“Perfect 10” and the girl I was talking to:
1. The girl I was talking to has bigger boobs.
2. The girl I was talking to has a smaller ass.
(Both of those attributes are benefits, of course.)
So, in fact, the girl I was talking to is PRETTIER than the
girl in “Perfect 10” !
The absolute prettiest girl in this issue of “Perfect 10” is
Veronika Zernanova (page 20). Good Lord! What a goddess! She is a
brunette. She’s 5’ 5” tall. She has an elfin face, gloriously big
bosoms, and a voluptuous all-woman figure. You will do yourself a
disservice if you don’t buy this magazine so you can have a copy of
Veronika.
“Perfect 10” calls itself “The Connoisseur’s Magazine.” It’s
sold at Tower Books, plus other places, including “Dave’s Smoke Shop” in
Berkeley, CA. To me, the fact that “Perfect 10” is sold in a cigar shop
is an excellent way to summarize this magazine. It’s big. It’s
glossy. It’s printed on thick paper. It has pictures of nude women in
it who are arguably “Perfect 10” in appearance. (Being real women they,
of course, vary in appearance, some striking closer to my ideal of a
“Perfect 10” than others.)
What’s the downside? It’s this: “Perfect 10” is a boring
magazine. It’s not totally boring, but it tends in that direction.
Here’s my advice for “Perfect 10” magazine: photograph *pairs*
of girls. Guys like me are sick of seeing ‘one girl’ pictorials. If
you’re going to photograph nude females, photograph two or three of them
at once, having fun together. It can still be a classy magazine, with
gorgeous sets, but there has to be something *exciting* happening in the
pictorial. America is flush with cash right now, so I suppose any
magazine that’s well made and features nude females in it will sell.
But when times get tough, guys like me will stop buying publications
that are boring. Put some pizzazz into “Perfect 10,” so I don’t ever
have a reason not to look at it.
Take “High Society” magazine, for instance. I used to buy that
magazine. But “High Society” has this problem: there are *too many*
girls in its pictorials. Although the girls might be doing sexy things,
there are just too many of them! You feel like you’re looking at the
interior of a slaughter house, seeing all that nude, lasciviously
exposed flesh. So I quit buying “High Society.” Now I don’t even look
at it anymore, because I don’t want to be tempted into buying something
that I will be disappointed with.
The problem with “Perfect 10” is not too many girls, doing too
much. It is the opposite problem. There is NOTHING happening in this
magazine! Oh, it’s a little sexy. But it’s not sexy enough. The sets
are nice, but not as nice as Playboy’s. The girls are photographed
somewhat creatively, but there are many photographs that are boring.
Parts of this magazine could wind up in a ladies’ fashion magazine, and
nobody would be the wiser. I feel at times like I’m perusing “Vogue”
when I read this magazine, or even the Sears catalogue!
“Perfect 10” should keep in mind that this magazine is being
bought by horny guys who have too much money in their pockets, and too
much sperm in their balls. Don’t turn it into “High Society” but, at
the same time, make sure it empties my balls, not just my wallet. This
issue, despite Veronika, only emptied my wallet, not my balls. I’ll buy
every issue if every issue has a Veronika-quality girl in it, AS LONG AS
I have the money. The minute I don’t, I won’t even look at it, so I
won’t be tempted to buy a magazine that only disappoints me.
---
“I am the lead singer and writer of the band Useless,” writes
Patrick W. Hopkins.
Incarcerated
by Patrick W. Hopkins
The land of the free.
These words mean nothing to me.
Mountains of hope crumble
With the threat of democracy.
Taxes paid as the law invades,
Only God can save as I no longer enjoy sunny days.
I don’t feel wrong as I try to be strong,
It’s been so long since I visited my home.
Judged by another man who’s no better,
Than I am, thinks he’s got the plan,
To make me understand.
When it’s all laid on the line,
All they want is the fine
And the poor man does the time.
What a wonderful country,
What a crock of shit.
AND IN THE END...
CLINTON ON PEDOPHILES
“Respect for the worth, the dignity, the potential, and the
freedom of every citizen is a vital source of America’s strength and
success. In this global information age where both economic growth and
individual opportunity are based on ideas, a commitment to providing all
human beings the opportunity to develop their full potential is vital.”
- President Clinton (Charlie Rose, June 25, 1998).
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over
a decade, it’s Alessandra’s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
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- JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.
-Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan
-END OF 382 EMISSION
Young generation quote by the Monkees.
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