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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 402 Passions Playpen NND g2
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WHAT TO DO ABOUT BILL?
America is in a quandary about Bill Clinton. Some people want
him censured. Other people want him impeached. Some want to release
all the evidence. Some say no evidence should be released, absent an
actual threat posed by the president to our constitutional form of
government.
As usual, it takes a hobo like me to provide the quick and
simple solution. As you know, five separate women have complained about
Bill’s sexual behavior. One of them, Monica Lewinsky, is regarded by
many as little more than a child. Hence, here’s my answer to the “Bill
problem”:
a. All inquiries into Bill Clinton’s past behavior will cease.
b. From now on, Bill will be referred to as “Clinton the Molester”.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 402
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter Eight
“Spread your legs,” Melinda told Kate. The blonde had no
intention of obeying. How could she show her sex to these people after
they’d treated her so roughly? Yet, with an anxious glance at John, she
saw resistance was not a viable option. He was standing with his arms
folded over his chest. He was bare now, except for his socks and
shoes. He’d disrobed to fuck her and Kate wondered if his discarded
clothing still lay on his front lawn. She saw the rippling of his
muscles and his stern countenance. Melinda slapped Kate’s unmarked
thighs, intimating that her wounded bottom would get the next slap if
she didn’t obey. Quietly Kate opened herself to Melinda. The woman,
seeing her legs part, helped her obey by seizing Kate’s ankles and
spreading her feet as wide as the table would allow. Then Kate’s ankles
were each cuffed with soft leather cuffs to the table.
Kate’s hands, meanwhile, were drawn out in front of her by
Eunice. The woman, tsking at Kate’s fate, at her coming here, no doubt,
in the first place, to this forest-shrouded house where only John was
the Law, cuffed Kate’s wrists.
“Here’s a pillow. You can rest your cheek on it,” Eunice said
sympathetically to Kate. The servant slipped a small soft slipcased
cushion under Kate’s face. With her arms at full extension, and her
legs spread, Kate resigned herself to her misfortune and settled her
cheek onto the pillow. Eunice produced a soft cloth and wiped Kate’s
face with it. Kate wriggled her nose. She felt like a little girl
being attended to by her mommie and she didn’t like the feeling of utter
dependency.
“Your bottom needs aromatherapy to make it better,” Melinda
said quietly to Kate. “The first lotion I’ll apply is an antiseptic,
Clove.”
Melinda had barely spoken when Kate felt a splash of liquid
upon her bare fanny.
“Aughgghgh!” Kate cried. She launched her face into the air
and pulled at the straps which held her. “Oooooh, it burns!” Kate
sobbed when she’d recovered herself a little. Eunice hovered over her
face with a fresh towel. When she got a chance she wiped Kate’s face
anew.
“Of course it burns. I told you it was an antiseptic, silly!”
Melinda snipped. “First we must cleanse your bottom of any residue from
the birch. This should numb your bottom too, and give it a little
relief.” With her bare hands Melinda gently massaged Kate’s wettened
bottom as the blonde gritted her teeth and tried to bear her
discomfort. As the oil soaked into her skin she did feel a slight
lessening of the awful burning which afflicted her. Her bottom also
began to grow warm. Kate wiggled her ass as she felt the warmth turn
into a glow, as if her bare ass were a nightlight. John, watching,
began to rise again as he watched. And as his manhood grew he took more
photographs of Kate for his friends.
“Don’t worry. We have no intention of harming you,” Melinda
told Kate. “John will do doubt want to fuck you again after enjoying
the pleasure of seeing you whipped. Try to bear up well under it. This
is nothing compared to what birthing a child will feel like. Or so I’m
told,” Melinda smiled at John.
“Next I’ll apply Peppermint,” Melinda told Kate. There was a
new splash of oil on Kate’s tushy. She cried out again, but less
urgently, for she was pleasantly numb from the Clove oil. As Melinda
rubbed the oil into Kate’s bottom Kate felt her hind cheeks relax. The
oil was a muscle relaxant, Melinda told her. “Anti-inflammatory too, to
help you recover from your burny welts.” The peppermint oil left Kate’s
bottom feeling pleasantly cool. Yet Kate didn’t like any of this, she
told herself, having herself spread out naked on a table and her bottom
paid so much attention. She sobbed quietly, remorsefully.
Kate sniffled as she sobbed. Eunice put a hot towel to Kate’s
face and made Kate blow her nose into the towel. John, meanwhile, felt
inspired. He presented his cock to Kate’s mouth after her nose had been
wiped and made her take it. Kate found herself involuntarily sucking
him, but there was nothing she could do. She huffed and puffed over his
huge penis as, behind her, Melinda made her wince with new applications
of the Peppermint oil.
John showed little interest in conserving his seed. He forced
Kate to suck him, taking occasional intimate photographs of her
efforts. When he felt like cumming he simply shot himself into her.
Then he withdrew and took photos of her cum-dripping mouth. Kate
agonized over her bottom as more splashes of oil were poured onto it.
Melinda didn’t bother to describe each oil to Kate. Some were sweet,
almost harmless, while others seemed deliberately bitter.
Eunice wiped the sperm from Kate’s face when John was through
photographing her oral denouement. Melinda, meanwhile, to finish Kate’s
treatment, applied Rose oil to her fanny. “This one is an
antidepressant,” Melinda told Kate. “Just in case you’re feeling down.
It also serves as an aphrodisiac, so don’t blame yourself if you start
feeling sexy!”
Kate wept loudly. She didn’t want to be sexy. She just wanted
to go home to her own dorm room at her college, where all her friends
were, and snuggle up in her bed by herself and never, ever go on such a
wild partying spree again. Yet, with Eunice wiping her face, she felt
sure John had more plans for her. Worse ones, perhaps, than she’d
already endured.
Kate was taken back downstairs to the cellar. She was collared
and her collar, which was a simple dog’s collar, was tethered to the
wooden post. She was given a waterbowl to drink from, and a small bowl
of broken up bits of cheese and bologna. She was told to relax on the
pillows, tummy down, bottom up. She was handcuffed, with her hands
behind her, to keep her from pleasuring herself if she should feel
randy. And then, cuffed and collared, she was left by John and
Melinda. Eunice promised to check up on her during the night. John and
Melinda told her they were going upstairs to sleep.
In the morning Kate’s bowl was cleaned by Eunice. Kate had
eaten nothing during the night. Now, as she lay hungry over the
pillows, she watched as Eunice transferred a ham and egg omelette from a
silver tray into Kate’s doggie bowl. Kate’s hands were freed so that
she could eat from the bowl kneeling on all fours. John came
downstairs, looking and feeling refreshed, with Melinda beside him. He
photographed Kate as she ate like a dog and drank from her water bowl.
Eunice poured coffee into Kate’s water bowl to accompany her omelette.
Afterward Kate was forced to kneel before John and, wincing every time
she moved, for her bottom still hurt, Kate was forced to catch in her
mouth seedless grapes that John and Melinda tossed at her.
Kate was taken upstairs. Outside it was a dreary morning.
Rain drizzled over the lawn. Melinda had Kate come out back with her
and go swimming with her in John’s heated pool. The two girls swam in
the nude as John watched from the porch. At Melinda’s encouragement,
the two girls practised their diving. They competed with each other in
dog paddling races across the length of the pool. Melinda allowed Kate
a head start because her wounded bottom still pained her whenever she
moved. The girls played with a big beach ball. They tossed it back and
forth to each other, standing in the shallow end of the pool with their
bare bodies exposed to the chilly rain.
When John felt ready, he ordered both girls out of the pool.
He told them to kneel in front of him. They obeyed, and Kate found
herself admiring anew John’s penis. It was big and strong and it pulsed
with his need. He fed it first to her and then, holding in his seed, he
fed it in turn to Melinda. He alternated between the two girls, giving
each of them equal time with his prick. Sometimes he stopped and
bantered with them, letting his organ rest lest he blow himself away
before he felt ready. Finally, when he couldn’t stand his need anymore,
he stuffed himself into Kate’s mouth, almost choking her. He thrust
into her throat and, stabbing in and out of her deeper depths, he
discharged his seed into her. Kate gasped for air when he finally drew
himself out of her. Cum splashed down over her cheeks and chin and ran
down her neck and speckled her boobs. Melinda turned Kate’s face to her
own and, with John perfunctorily commanding it, for Melinda apparently
already knew what he wanted, she licked Kate’s face clean.
Kate was left unmolested for the rest of the day. Eunice
offered to teach Kate piano. Kate found herself sitting bare-assed
naked on a soft cushion on a wooden piano bench, with Eunice beside
her. A fire blazed nearby, warming Kate sufficiently. Kate was made to
play chopsticks and other simple songs as John, sitting nearby in an
overstuffed chair, relished the rise and fall of her nude breasts.
“We will discipline your breasts this evening,” John warned
Kate. She might have replied in the negative. But after John spent in
her mouth out by the pool he’d forced her to accept a black gag. It was
made of soft felt. Kate didn’t like it. Nonetheless, she was
determined to wear it as gracefully as she could. She was beginning to
respect her captors. She was given leave to explore the house on her
own, and even to pick flowers in the back yard, when the rain let up,
provided she kept on her collar and dutifully wore the gag.
At lunch Melinda pulled Kate’s gag down to her throat. She
spoon fed Kate. It was a lunch of yogurt and brie cheese. They drank
wine. Kate relished the smooth feel of the wine as it slid down her
throat for it promised to ease a little the sting in her bottom, which
still hurt. After lunch she was re-gagged. They played Scrabble, lying
nude on the floor in the living room. Only sexy or dirty words were to
be used. Frequently Kate had to resort to a nearby paperback dictionary
to look up words. She used “condom,” and “flagellate,” and “discipline”
to win rounds for herself. All the while John teased her about her
breasts, watching her lying on them with her chin up, supported by her
fist, so that her bosoms pillowed her. Whenever Kate lifted herself up
her bosoms would reveal themselves, sometimes right down to her wiggly
nipples. John stroked himself occasionally, and Melinda masturbated a
little. They encouraged Kate to but they didn’t force her. Near the
end of the game, Kate sat up and, just to appear good, she sat on the
floor with her legs crossed and played in her slit with her fingers.
John smiled and told her he’d go easier on her breasts when he punished
them after dinner.
“Why must they be punished?” Kate wanted to ask. But she could
only look at him with her wide blue eyes and frig herself. Her fingers
became visibly wet with herself, and Melinda smiled at the appearance of
dew on the lips of Kate’s cunt.
MAGAZINE REVIEW
by holy joe
Club Confidential, November 1998, $5.99. Paragon Publishing, Inc., P.O.
Box 380, Sandy Hook, CT 06482. No web site listed.
Review: Yesterday a girl called me. She told me she wanted me
to fuck her. I told her I was busy reading the Starr Report.
But this girl was very insistent. She said she wanted to get
laid, right away, and if I didn’t do it to her, she would get me in
trouble. She proceeded to list all the ways she might get me in
trouble:
a. He looked at me. (‘Lookism,’ a form of sexual harassment.)
b. He molested me. (One touch is enough!)
c. He stalked me. (Just follow the person for a minute or
two, and you’re guilty.)
d. He sexually harassed me. (One ‘inappropriate comment’ is
enough!)
e. He attempted to rape me. (It’s her word against yours, if
you were alone with her for even a moment.)
As you can imagine, I was shitting bricks by the time she’d
listed off all the ways she could get me in trouble. So I agreed to
fuck her. But I wanted to read the Starr Report -- what to do?
Then it hit me. We were on the phone. “Okay,” I told her.
“I’ll give you what you want, if you’re willing to help me.” She said
she would. I told her to go get a cucumber. “Get the biggest one you
can find,” I told her. “Because that’s how big I am!” She agreed.
(Dumb girl.)
You can see this girl obeying me in the latest issue of Club
Confidential. First she runs to the grocery store and buys the biggest
cucumber she can find. Then she comes home and strips to her panties.
Watch as this girl, obeying my orders, walks upstairs with her panties
around her knees. Then watch her get in bed and lick the big cucumber
to make it all wet. Finally, watch as she kills herself trying to stuff
it inside her!
(Well, you know, I didn’t want her bothering me anymore!)
My apologies to this girl’s family. I know it is going to be
hard for you. Some people’s daughters get killed in plane crashes, or
auto wrecks, or from bombs planted by Tim McVeigh. But in your case,
you’re stuck with having to say, “Our daughter was killed by a
cucumber.”
My friend holy shit says that this girl killing herself with a
cucumber is the sexiest pictorial he’s ever seen in Club Confidential.
But you know how he is -- riding motorcycles, drinking in bars, and
getting in fights. He’s uncivilized. He has no respect for women and
their bodies. (Maybe that’s why so many girls like him.) I tried
explaining to him that I was just trying to get back to reading the
Starr Report. It’s a long document and it takes awhile to read all
those pages. I can’t have stupid sex-starved girls interrupting my
study of our government!
If you’re like holy shit, perhaps you will like Club
Confidential too. As for me and Ken Starr, we have loftier objectives
in life.
Tangible Evidence
by Diane Oatley
This started out being about me, too, something
about you caused me pain helped
release sorrow either as reminder
of former hurt or of the impossibility of touch.
I press fingertips one by one
into your chest, dig nails into
your back squeeze all the air
out of you and you (the rock who did not
tuck away as my hand fell out to greet it, but
rolled forth with heavy purpose to meet me)
remain now stonily indifferent.
(Here’s an answer: Tell him, “Time for the implant, honey.” - h.j.)
AND IN THE END...
ANOTHER (de facto) MOLESTER !
“He was 53 to Maynard’s 18 when he wrote her an admiring
letter. ...They decide to meet. Maynard’s mother helps her make a
dress for the occasion: ‘a sleeveless A-line shift... printed with the
ABC’s in bright primary colors.’ ...She... moves into his Cornish,
N.H., house. ...Maynard, by her own description, is... a vulnerable
virgin.”
- Newsweek, August 17, 1998, pg. 62, on the relationship between
18-year-old Joyce Maynard and author J.D. Salinger, who wrote “The
Catcher in the Rye.”
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key.
Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen.
Find the box labelled “Main Archive”.
Change “Main Archive” to “Complete Archive”.
Next, do you see a blank box labelled “Power Search” ?
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen
that has “Power Search” written next to it.
Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant
Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-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 http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN NAMBLA! 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 402 EMISSION
So many men, so many molesters!
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