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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 403 Passions Playpen NND g2
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holy joe for PRESIDENT !
A new political season is upon us. And a new T.V. season too.
Allow me to make history, here on the Internet, by being the first
person to declare his candidacy for U.S. President. Eventually other
candidates will declare themselves, but hopefully the media will be fair
and impartial by noting that I was first!
Let me assure you that I do not intend to force any great
changes on this country. With me in the White House, things will
continue on their present course, which America obviously likes since it
continues to give Bill Clinton a high job approval rating. Lying,
perjuring, and philandering will be as much a part of the holy joe
presidency as they have been of the Clinton presidency.
Obviously, a few things will be different. For instance, I’m
younger than Bill. So a 22-year-old intern is obviously too old for
me. My interns will all be 12. Yes, feminism will not just be some
meaningless byword in the holy joe White House. EVERY day will be “Take
your daughter to work day,” and every night too, because all the interns
will sleep upstairs with me in my private quarters.
You may be wondering what my political platform will be. Don’t
worry. I have studied the greatest heroes of history and I intend to
emulate all of them. Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Genghis Khan, and
Caesar will be my role models. And using them as a guide, I offer
America the following prescription: global conquest.
Why should America, the world’s sole superpower, dole out
billions of dollars every year in foreign aid? It would be far better
if we conquered these foreign countries, and taxed them. (You gotta
admit, there would be no problem funding social security, if we did
that.)
Then there is the problem of nuclear proliferation. Korea,
Iran, and Libya are all trying to acquire nuclear weapons. Instead of
worrying about what these countries are up to, we should just conquer
them. If they are busy working to pay taxes to Washington, they won’t
have time to fool around with nuclear technology.
With me as your president, the stock market, fueled by the
prospect of American dominance, would go through the roof. “Dow
100,000” would be the slogan on Wall Street. You could afford to send
your kids to college, and your grandmother too!
As I see it, there is only one drawback to my plan. A country
like Russia, or China, might retaliate, and start a nuclear war.
However, I have already provided against this contingency. Remember all
those 12-year-old interns I plan to sleep with every night? Well, if
war breaks out, my interns and I will simply move to the Presidential
Bomb Shelter. Then, even if America does get nuked, don’t worry! With
plenty of 12-year-old interns in my bed, I will be able to repopulate
our country quite quickly. And with SUPERIOR genetic material too:
namely, that of a U.S. president!
As you can see, there is no lack of “the vision thing” when it
comes to a holy joe presidency! Why vote for some wimpy guy who needs
to take a poll before he knows what to say? I assure you: I did not
take any pole before making this speech! And I made it all by myself,
too, without the aid of some slick political speech writer.
Vote for me and turn on your T.V. I promise you’ll have plenty
of exciting viewing with holy joe as your president!
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 403
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter Eight
The dress bound the woman from her throat to her toes. She had
long brown hair, pinned up neatly but loosely, as if she’d been
interrupted. She smiled at Kate. Her dress, which held her tight as
paint on a vase, was jet black. It was sleeveless, so the woman wore
opera-length gloves on her arms. The dress dipped down in an inverted
decollete arch, showing her bosoms, almost to the tips of her nipples,
yet a collar that was part of the dress itself bound her throat. The
dress was so tight that, looking at the woman, Kate fancied she saw the
indentation where her navel was. And, as the woman gazed at Kate, all
sweetness and full of welcome, her nipples rose through the sheer fabric
of her dress.
The woman turned around. Her dress was slit up each side. As
she turned on her long stiletto heeled pumps her legs were bared by the
swirl of her dress. She had breathtaking legs, which supported, as Kate
saw, a firm round adorable bottom. Her back was bare. The black dress
dipped so low that it showed more than half her bottom crack, exposing
her softly clenching cheeks. There could be little doubt, once you saw
this elegantly dressed creature from behind, what the night portended.
In response John, who was standing beside Kate, holding her gently,
popped a boner. Melinda glanced down at John’s newly risen crotch and
giggled, though Kate thought she detected a trace of envy in Melinda’s
laugh. Despite Melinda’s beauty, she and John had been living together
for some time. Men always proved most responsive to a brand new
conquest, Kate reminded herself.
Kate was still in that category for John. She wore her dog’s
collar around her throat and, when she and John stepped into the home,
all the guests could see that she was handcuffed by one of her hands to
John’s left wrist. Melinda travelled uncuffed at his right. She
carried in her purse a small collection of John’s newly developed
photos.
It was a beautiful house. Kate permitted herself to gaze
about. She felt scared and lonely and her pussy was hot, thanks to her
masturbating, but she tried to relax and to convince herself that John
wouldn’t punish her breasts.
Drinks were served. The other guests, there were perhaps 20,
gathered in the living room and exchanged small talk. Little mention
was made of Kate’s being handcuffed to John. It was all taken in
stride. Kate looked adorable in a short dress and blouse, both made of
fine cloth, one dark lavender and the other a lighter shade of violet.
She had frilled ankle socks on and graceful Jelly pumps, their long
spiked heels reinforced to loft her up on her tiptoes. She wore a tight
corset under her blouse, hidden there beneath her kid-like clothes,
which lifted up her breasts almost obscenely but failed to cover her
nipples. She wore no panties and her corset had no stockings to attach
its base to. It left her pussy as exposed as her nipples. But nobody
knew, gazing casually at her, for she was young and perhaps they thought
she had high-perched breasts, which were high but not quite as high, in
real-life, as the corset made them look, pushing them up rudely to show
off her nipples the minute her blouse was removed.
And Kate had no doubt that it would be. They were to spend the
night, and her nipples were to feature prominently in the evening’s
festivities, though nobody knew that yet, just that John had brought her
for everyone to play with.
“Some old faces, some new faces, eh John?” A man who introduced
himself to Kate’s master said.
“Who’s the bombshell hostess?” John asked.
“A gal who’s new. To our area, not the scene,” Rex replied.
“Who’s your little friend here?” His eyes passed to Kate’s prominent
breasts.
“Just a toy,” John said. He tugged at the collar around Kate’s
neck. He grinned at Rex. “Don’t ask her to sit down.”
Rex’s eyes widened. “She’s spirited, eh?” he asked.
“She deliberately dropped one of my best tea cups,” Melinda
said, though she hardly looked upset about it and her voice trailed away
absently as the hostess offered her a flute of wine.
“Your dress is simply gorgeous,” Melinda complimented their
hostess.
“Thanks. I look better without it, though,” the hostess, who
was named Ruth, replied. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh,” Melinda answered, turning her head back toward Kate.
“Just some teenager John’s breaking in.” She leaned forward and
whispered something into Ruth’s ear. Ruth’s eyes grew wider and they
both shared a secretive giggle. Kate, overhearing, tried not to blush,
though she feared they were talking about her.
The small talk continued. Everyone met everyone else and,
underneath their pleasant remarks, they sized each other up for the
evening’s games. Finally Ruth went over to Kate and, touching her
politely on the shoulder, she said, in front of everyone, “I hear you
were very brave last night. Could you show us what John did to you?”
Kate gulped. Everyone, all the woman as well as the men in the
room were looking at her. She let Ruth turn her around and then, with
all eyes pasted on her from behind, Ruth gently lifted Kate’s skirt and
showed them her bare bottom.
A gasp went up from the crowd. Kate’s bottom, which they all
instantly praised as adorable, had been marked quite distinctly by a
birch. Melinda took credit for the marks. Everyone wanted to feel them
and Kate was forced to suffer the indignity of a thousand fingers all
nimbly touching her heinie. A few insinuated themselves naughtily into
her crack. Others, particularly, it seemed, the long-nailed female
fingers, actually passed between her legs and felt up her lovelips.
They came away wet, for Kate was still aroused from her masturbating.
John and she and Melinda had ended their session of scrabble without
permitting themselves to cum. It had been a plan, Kate figured now, to
make her more receptive. Her cunny was too hungry for her to flee the
seeking hands which explored her. They gave her rump admiring pats and
praised her for taking her punishment like a grown up girl. Ruth,
boldly, when everyone had felt up Kate as much as they pleased, bent
over and kissed Kate’s behind.
“I hope that makes it a little better,” Ruth told Kate. She
restored Kate’s dress. Kate thought herself free of the press of hands
and eyes but then Ruth, taking the zipper at the back of Kate’s dress,
said to her: “You’re bottom’s just too pretty to keep hidden.
Especially with such fine marks on it. May I undress you?” And,
without waiting for Kate to answer, though she did pause, though only to
smirk confidentially at the other guests, Ruth took down Kate’s dress.
A quick zip left it unable to remain at Kate’s hips and when Ruth drew
her fingers away, it fell to Kate’s knees, where Kate caught at it with
her hand. Ruth freed the dress from Kate’s fingers and let it fall down
to her ankles. “Step out of it, please,” Ruth told Kate. She lifted
Kate’s hand and made the girl step out of her skirt.
In doing so Kate was aware of the dangling of her corset’s
straps. They should have attached to long stockings, but John had given
her only little girl’s socks to wear, frilled socks that rose only as
high as her ankles. Kate observed the men’s eyes on her straps. They
were slender and delicate and obviously made to attach to something, yet
they wiggled with her every smallest movement. The two in front framed
her blonde bush, swaying in front of it and inviting the eyes to center
upon it. In back, her bottom was framed by two more unattached straps.
Like little thongs they danced over her whip-marked bottom, as if to
give it new stripes.
ZINE EXPO !
“We are planning the Sixth Expo of fanzines and other
alternative publications. Please send us your publications and zines.
Send them to us by November,” writes Casa Municipal Da Juventude, Rua
Trindade Coelho, No 3, 2800 Cacilhas - Portugal.
(It’s rather hard to keep track of foreign events, but I think
this is the same event that I have sent zines to a number of times in
the past. They print a very fine catalog and send it out for free to
all contributors. You will be quite happy that you participated. -
h.j.)
A Convolution In Her
by Will Dockery
As you fly in your little red space station,
remember me.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution.
We both had our high tech cars, Plymouth,
patriotic emblems, mojo rise, drink some medicine.
This torrid confederacy, this torn nation,
you tickled my back with fingernails,
politicians making offers.
You fly in your little red satellite,
a country doctor's job, mixing medicine,
between jaunts in the solar system.
A pimp rastaman forcing me to sacrifice,
held the rain for a human ransom,
another crewmember disappeared.
And I flew off,
I went off into space with a gold robot bird.
Undercover, crash down,
a small little ghost story in Summerville.
Thunderbag in trouble again,
dark castle in bright hot Lee County.
Wiped out, crashed out,
low expectations, it's to the point,
where I wish I'd never admitted loving you.
But I still do.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution.
Great expectations, pink dawn glistens,
she stopped for years in 1992,
my hot breeze seemed to awaken her.
Pookie and Puck and Dark Man,
your friends in need, night visitors.
A madman with stolen phasers,
he interviewed the suspects and fell in love again.
Zapping down the crewmen,
forget me not beautiful friend.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution, outside Shadowville,
are the castles where we discussed the catastrophe.
He creates artificial fractal ice crystals,
blind eye for hire, I hunt the sphere of destiny.
Crazy, crashed down, her tits like ripe melons,
she says they should kill the Christ Buddha.
People on the coast, desperados in green,
the rat pack met the wise guys she is the go between.
Look at the ocean so silver,
watch the black cat run.
Kittens walk on her back, she lay naked, open wide,
she has night eyes, a late night itch.
The Dark Man stalks so quiet and bold,
I am by the trees waiting, I feel fear and loathing.
Once a thief, runs his fingers into her charms,
she carried his red mark.
Can’t hardly wait, crashed out,
city sins and a wide open country.
Broadway runaround, trigger effect, you make me wait forever.
A convoluted ceremony of pleasure,
bringing bad things, the human drive to create new life,
like mosquitos we suck and stuff your dark hungers.
AND IN THE END...
ANOTHER GREAT ROLE MODEL !
“On four national holidays each year, government buildings from
Izmir to the Iranian border are festooned with 15-metre posters of the
founder; Ataturk the infantryman or aviator; Ataturk the statesman,
teacher or lover of children.”
- The Economist, August 1, 1998, pg. 71, on Turkey’s Kemal Ataturk.
-------------------------- 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 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 Alessandra’s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
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 403 EMISSION
AND ANOTHER !
“King David was now a very old man, and, though they wrapped
clothes round him, he could not keep warm. His attendants said to him,
‘Let us find a young virgin for your majesty, to attend you and take
care of you; and let her lie in your arms, sir, and make you warm.’
After searching throughout Israel for a beautiful maiden, they found
Abishag, a Shunammite, and brought her to the king. She was a very
beautiful girl.”
- Kings 1: 1-4. (The Revised English Bible, Oxford University Press.)
--
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