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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 333 Dungeon of Desire NND
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FIND OUT IF YOU’RE A REAL MAN
or just a feminist lackey...
YOUR MISSION: Go to SunCoast Video. Find the movie Boarding School,
starring Natassja Kinkski. Stare at the front of the box. Can you bear
to walk out of the store, without buying this video? (It only costs
$4.99.)
If you can leave the store without this video, you are a
feminist lackey. This zine is not for you. You are the sort of person
who got baby changing stations put in all the men’s restrooms.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: Crab the dog
Issue No. 333
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Dungeon of Desire
Chapter One
Jennifer was given no leisure. Colette grabbed her wrists and
flung them above her head. Then, obviously a graduate of the Girl
Scouts, Colette quickly tied Jennifer’s hands to the headboard. It was
made of brass and had convenient bars spaced across its length for the
purpose, I had no doubt, of just such a binding.
With her arms bound above her head, Jennifer presented her
nipples involuntarily to Colette. The woman, so concerned for the
health of Jennifer’s breasts in the ballroom, now picked up the crop
she’d brought with her and used it to torture Jennifer’s breasts. She
caught the loop at the tip of her crop around one of Jennifer’s nipples.
“My, your breasts are so nice and big even when you’re lying
flat on your back!” Colette said. She had nice breasts, but they were
not as big as Jennifer’s. Jennifer arched her back, hoping to throw off
the woman who’d mounted her tummy and showed no signs of anything now
but utter wickedness. “My, you buck like a horse,” Colette said.
“You’d think somebody was going to punish your breasts!” And with that,
to a scream from Jennifer, Colette began striking her. The woman
brought down her crop right on Jennifer’s nipples, each in turn,
striking with just the leather loop at the tip of her crop. Each biting
blow brought a gasp of alarm from Jennifer, followed by a little
scream. “Tell your nipples to quit sticking up like that!” Colette
scolded. “Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!” Again and again she brought
the looped tip of her crop down on Jennifer’s poor teats. Reaching back
behind herself with one hand, Colette found Jennifer’s spot between her
thighs and fondled the girl. Colette, despite her suffering, kept her
thighs apart. Colette would only whip her more mercilessly if she tried
to close her legs to the woman.
I, meanwhile, having won a reprieve as John and I stared at
Jennifer’s plight, suddenly found myself on the receiving end of his
cock. He’d never left me, but had held it within me while we both
looked, the two of us amazed, for the moment, at the luscious sight of
poor Jennifer having her nipples whipped. I pitied her, yet having
never seen such a thing I found it impossible not to look, and be
amazed, and forget, for a moment, the bulging presence within the
opening of my cunt. Now, however, with renewed strength and energy,
John burrowed into me and I was forced to open myself to his presence.
He was pressure. He was insistence. Above all, he was large.
His wide cockhead split me like a plum and he stabbed up within me,
making me gasp, making me take all of him. I found myself impaled on
his dick and there was absolutely nothing I could do to rid myself of
him. I bucked my hips, but that only let him go deeper.
“Do that again,” John told me.
“No!” I gasped. But he seized my hips more viciously with his
hands and forced me to buck upon him. Soon I felt his grip lighten and
found that I was, indeed, obeying his command. I couldn’t stop what
he’d started. Biting my lower lip and doing my utmost to receive him
without hurting myself, I shoved my bottom repeatedly into his groin.
He began moving within me. Not just letting his shaft hammer
me as I bounced my bottom against him, but actually shoving himself back
and forth, in deep, long strokes, inside my wetness. I clung to him
with the folds of my sex. My entire form seemed to close on him,
tightening my grip on him even as I bucked my ass against him and he
hammered me with his own independent movements. I raised my face up off
the bedcovers and felt my bosoms shake underneath me as I held myself up
with my palms flat on the bed.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I blurted. Jennifer, flat on her back on
the bed, howled as Colette’s fingerings at her spot brought her
pleasure.
John held himself manfully as I gave him my best. I didn’t
care anymore that my mom might appear and see me without my panties on.
I rammed my girlish ass against him like a lioness, my golden hair
falling in my eyes, my bosoms shaking beneath me like abandoned fruit,
left to fend for themselves in the rising wind of autumn.
“Fuck me! Fuck me with your tit!” I heard as Colette, mounting
one of Jennifer’s pillowy bosoms, tried to force the cone of flesh into
her cunt. She could not find release upon Jennifer’s little peaked
nipple, and soon passed on to Jennifer’s face, where she sat her pussy
down on the girl’s gasping mouth.
“Mmmmf! Mmmmmf!” I blathered, bucking against my steed. John
groaned as, Indian-like, I made my bare waist a thing of vaselike
movements, back and forth and back and forth and back again, sleek and
unending in its demands. Gripped within me, splitting me but yet,
ultimately, captive to me, John found his huge organ immersed within the
pleasurable sensations of Need. The Need that builds and builds until
you are straining, yearning, eager to cum and yet not wanting to lose
it. I felt a tension within my womb, knowing I must release myself upon
him, let myself ride a great balling orgasm. And I knew he must feel it
too, but in his case it must be more desperate still, for his Need would
result in him losing his precious seed. Deep in my hungering womb.
Where my eggs lay. The eggs that would make him a father. Had I taken
my pill? In my bouncing squirmings I couldn’t remember now.
Perversely, I hoped I hadn’t. I wanted him to impregnate me. Let his
little moment of folly bind him to me forever. And then, as I felt his
organ swell with his impending release, I realized I didn’t know his
name. Later I found out it was ‘John,’ never learning his last name.
How could I finger a man I didn’t know? He would escape, and leave me
with child, alone in the world and helpless.
A bursting within me. He came in me just as I came upon his
enormous prick. There was no time for second thoughts, for newfound
reservations. His seed flooded into my womb, hot, copious. I found
myself drowning inside, so wet and sticky and fulsome was his spurting.
Jennifer, meanwhile, abandoned with her spot half-tickled, but
unfulfilled, bucked her bare hips upon the sheet of the bed as her mouth
was pinned down and forced to lick within Colette’s nest.
I received. All of John’s sperm, possibly all he’d ever made
in his life, came spurting from his balls, 30 years worth of seed made
in his testicles and saved up just for me. For my womb, for my eggs
that simmered inside me, begging for fertilization. I mouthed the
bedcovers. I bit them. I knew I was bad and deserved whatever he gave
me. In and out he shoved himself, sluicing in the wetness of my juices
and his spouting seed. We climaxed together. It was the perfect
merging of two healthy young bodies. His, hairy and strong and
demanding; mine sleek and small and yet just as eager for him as he was
for me, the two of us slamming our hips back and forth like joined
serpents. Poor Jennifer offered her hips to us but we ignored her. Her
bush was left to bounce upon the bed, unattended, she hearing our cries
as her own mouth was forced to feed in the wet moistness of Colette’s
pussy.
Our course completed at last, our combat finished, John
withdrew his hardness from me. I stood up. I brushed back my hair.
How does one compose oneself after such an intimate joust? I saw
Jennifer’s eyes staring upward, and looked, and saw a mirror there, on
the ceiling. She had seen all. I smiled at her. She stared blankly at
me, her nose in Colette’s bush and her mouth feeding within the woman’s
pussy. I turned to John. I smiled at him. I looked down at his organ
and saw it was declining in strength. I touched his drippy cockhead.
It enlarged a little at my touch, then continued its shrinkage. Men are
so strange. How do they become so big if their wieners are really so
small? His hugeness withered away. I wanted to bend down and kiss him
back to life but he turned away. He was done with me. He went looking
for our room key and found it on a dresser by the door. He unlocked our
door and went out. I watched his hairy ass as he rounded the corner and
left me without so much as saying goodbye.
Still, he had given me his best. I felt like running after him
but I didn’t. I turned instead to Jennifer. We were friends. We’d
promised, with our eyes, to protect each other at the party. I spied
Colette’s crop lying on the bed. I picked it up. It was payback time.
WHACK! I slammed the crop against the soft, bulging whiteness
of Colette’s ass. It was a pretty ass, but I was mad at her for getting
me raped and for biting Jennifer’s pretty pink nipples.
“Oh, God!” Colette cried. She clapped her hands to her bottom
and her head flung itself back. I watched as the red line I’d burned
into her posterior made her squirm upon Jennifer’s mouth, and I realized
she’d enjoyed it.
“Did you like that?” I gasped. I was angry at her, and
appalled. How could a woman like having her hiney whacked? I mean, if
a man insists, for his own wicked pleasure, I guess a girl can find
enjoyment in making him happy, accepting her fate, letting him work his
will on her. But there were no men here now. There was just me, and
Jennifer, and Colette. I smacked her hands with the crop and she yanked
them off her bottom. She shoved her ass back at me, begging for more.
I gave her another blow, and another, in rapid succession. I
wanted her off my friend. Colette, finding my blows harder and harder,
found her bare bottom was less prepared for my punishment than she’d
thought. I showed her no mercy. I hoped each stroke of mine, however
imprecisely and weak-wristedly I delivered it, still very much a novice,
made a big welt across her ass. I tried my best to hurt her. Colette
bucked and moaned and ground her pussy into Jennifer’s face. Jennifer,
I realized, was getting the worse for it, her poor face practically
smashed within Colette’s cunt, but I didn’t know how else to help her.
Might I wrestle Colette off her? Colette was sleek and firm and I knew
she would just overpower me. I had to stay back, yet punish her enough
to get her off my friend.
Suddenly Colette tensed. She was cumming. I watched in horror
as Colette mushed her pussy upon Jennifer’s poor mouth and orgasmed. I
sensed Jennifer, if only to rid herself of the woman, worked her tongue
in Colette’s slit and pleasured her. Upon that stabbing tongue and
attentive wet mouth Colette issued forth her moist spendings. Then,
tossing back her hair and getting up from my friend as if she were
rising off a toilet, Colette climbed down off the bed. She looked at
me, a little guiltily I hoped, and then she caught my face in my hands
and kissed me.
Our bedroom door was still open and she simply walked out,
leaving me with her lipstick on my lips, swinging her hips and reaching
back to cup her bottom. It must have hurt from all the blows I’d
delivered.
I looked at Jennifer. We were alone. We were bereft. Colette
and John had simply used us and left. We were guests at an orgy, I
realized. We were here to use each other’s bodies, and nothing more.
We were like children with a key to somebody’s candy shop, except our
own bodies were each other’s candy.
I climbed onto the bed. Jennifer, crying, offered me her
bush. I kissed it. It was furry. I looked at her, my nose buried in
her bush, and gave her a polite little lick. Did she wish for more? A
bucking of her hips showed me she did.
“Children!” I heard from the doorway. My head bolted up and I
turned to face my accuser. Was it mom? No, I breathed, in my relief.
It was Miriam. But I blushed all the same as she saw me with my nose
sniffing Jennifer’s quim. “Come, you two! We are going to have a dance
now, and I don’t want you to miss it!” Miriam said. She strode into our
borrowed bedroom and gazed at us with loving eyes. “Poor girl! Has
someone been biting your nipples?” she asked Jennifer. There were
hickeys all over Jennifer’s sweet gourds where Colette had bitten her.
Jennifer, her wrists still bound to the headboard, could only
stare up at Miriam, guiltily, I thought, given the blush that suddenly
flooded her cheeks. Miriam bent and kissed each of Jennifer’s teats.
“Mmmmm!” Miriam declared. She savored them, as if drawing nectar from
them. Jennifer, already blushing, gasped a little moan.
“There, that should make them all better,” Miriam suggested,
showering Jennifer’s nipples with a series of little kisses. I, hoping
to make Jennifer happy, licked in her bush with little licks.
Miriam stood up. She untied Jennifer’s wrists from the
headboard. It took a while. The rope had been tied tightly and Miriam
didn’t want to break her fingernails. All the while I politely kissed
Jennifer’s cunny, not sure now whether she wanted me to make her cum or
not, Miriam being present amongst us.
Angel in Flesh
by Bohdan Kot
Her legs tangle me like a vine.
I eat her gentle ripe fruit.
She fills me with a green fire.
A madness not from heaven or hell
swirls on my bed made of clouds.
The air lays heavy on my back.
My room, dark and blue, forms a glow.
The full moon shines on her face
while I continue to feast.
Angel sheds a smile
that spills over me like a wet sun ray.
COMIC REVIEW
by holy joe
Bob’s Funny book, No. 1, 25 cents. Minicomic. Blue paper, 8 pages.
Brian Kirk, Moot Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA 01108.
e-mail: mootcomics@aol.com web:
http://www.the-spa.com/bear/moothome
Review: This is a short, rather pointless story about a comic
book shop proprietor. He’s named Bob. He orders a new batch of comic
books and finds that prices have risen so much that the distributor is
only able to deliver a single comic. That, at least, appears to be the
story. There’s no dialogue in this comic. Instead, Brian relies on
‘picture’ word balloons. I enjoyed looking at the art in this comic,
but without dialogue it lacked a certain amount of substance. Worse,
the comic appears to have been drawn to please a friend (a real life
‘Bob’). So, instead of ending the comic looking like an ass, as the
ever-lovable ‘Asinine Head’ would, Bob’s comic ends with Bob happy and
content.
Here’s an idea: Next issue, Bob refuses to let kids read his
‘valuable’ comics. (No browsing! Purchase only!) He complains that
they have sticky fingers from eating candy. In retaliation, a kid buys
a (cheap) comic, asks to use the toilet, and stuffs the comic down into
the commode. A little later, Bob goes to the toilet for a nice s(h)it.
He takes his most valuable comic book with him, grumbling about how he
has to constantly ‘protect’ his valuable comics from ‘those damn kids’.
(His customers.) Flushing after a good poop, Bob feels the toilet water
welling up under his bottom. The shop is flooded with turds and all
Bob’s ‘valuable’ comics get spoiled by water damage. Then, to stay in
business, Bob is forced to hold a ‘flood sale’, selling his comics at
cut-rate prices.
“Now we’ve got some fun stuff to read!” one sticky-fingered
kid, munching on messy candy, tells another as they enjoy Bob’s discount
comics.
(The Three Stooges, after all, didn’t get popular by being
happy and content in their films.)
AND IN THE END...
Where would we be without
PARENTS?
“When Zane Grey was 15 his father tore up his first attempt at
fiction. ...Yet Grey’s pioneering westerns were to become so popular
that, in the end, they provided the bases for more than 100 films.”
-The Economist, July 19, 1997, Review page 13.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-Other providers:
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or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to: Jim
Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-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.
-END OF 333 EMISSION
- [Grey’s] stories of rugged frontier lives are part of the cherished
identity and the romantic history of the continent -- an indispensable
element of the great American dream.” (Ibid., Review pg. 14.)
--
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