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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: fixed FUCK DECENCY 339 Dungeon of Desire NND
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REMOVAL OF OVARIES
REDUCES FEMINIST TENDENCIES
Amherst, Mass. (UP) - Doctors today announced a breakthrough
which may help control feminists.
The breakthrough was based on a year-long study of women who
have had their ovaries removed. The results of the study showed that
women who are unable to reproduce sexually are less likely to engage in
feminist behavior.
The president praised the results upon hearing them, saying,
“Men everywhere will celebrate these results. Anything that helps
control feminism is a blessing to our nation.”
Doctors described the procedure and its effects in an hour-long
news conference.
“Basically, the problem of feminism is womb-related,” Dr.
Albert Justice explained to reporters. “Take away a woman’s
reproductive capability, and she will have less interest in men.”
Doctors were asked about the cost of the procedure.
“This is definitely an issue,” Dr. Justice agreed. “That’s why
we’re recommending a much safer procedure as an everyday alternative
that can be employed by the courts to control feminists. Our findings
show that simply by removing a woman’s clitoris, the same effects can be
achieved as would be achieved by removing her ovaries. In fact, the
effects may be enhanced. A woman without a clitoris won’t be able to
experience an orgasm and, hence, will be less likely to associate with
men and to possibly engage in harmful feminist behavior in their
presence.”
Dr. Justice also described other ways courts might use to
control feminists: “We are recommending the immediate removal of the
nipples of any woman convicted of feminism,” Dr. Justice said. “A woman
wouldn’t even have to take off her dress to conform to a court order
requiring her nipples to be removed. It would be quick, safe, and with
anesthetics it would be painless. Of course, some judges have indicated
to us that the infliction of pain in the procedure might in fact help
other women to refrain from feminist behavior.”
Before concluding, the news conference delved into the
troublesome issue of feminists who have been proven to be totally unable
to control their behavior. “It’s true there are some feminists for whom
clitoral removal, or even removal of the ovaries, will not be helpful,”
Dr. Justice said. “These are truly hard cases, because no matter how
much help the woman is given, she still insists on being a feminist.
But our study has come up with a solution even for these very sick
individuals,” Dr. Justice said. “We have found that, in all cases,
removal of the brain will cure them.”
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: Crab the dog
Issue No. 339
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Dungeon of Desire
Chapter Two
Like Riding Hood, waiting for Grandma in a most unique bed of
my own, I lay with hips upraised on Miriam’s “Love Hump.” The guests
turned their attention to me again as turned from the mattress and
walked briskly back to the Hump. I noticed everyone fiddling with the
rose petals they held. They were eager to begin, to please me. I had
nothing to do but lie and wait for it. Yet I teasingly lifted my ass a
little, parting my thighs, and showed them my pussy with a seductive
little smile prettying my face. They loved it. The women clapped and
the men impulsively reached for their dongs and stroked them.
“Oh!” a woman cried, as a spattering of sperm suddenly flew
from the penis tip of a man behind her and landed on her bare bottom.
“Dick! Not yet!” a woman beside the man who’d just cum
implored him.
“I-I’m still hard,” the man assured her. He seemed a little
surprised as his length did not diminish and his thickness remained the
same. Yet the woman he’d shot off on was forced to wipe herself with
her hand. She found wiping him off a little disagreeable, I thought,
his gunk making her hands all sticky. But she consoled herself by
putting her gooey fingers into her mouth. Her boyfriend eyed her
suspiciously.
“I hope you don’t like his taste better than mine,” he said.
“No, I just don’t, well--Miriam hates to see good sperm
wasted,” the female replied.
“Yes, excellent! You are most welcome at all my parties, dear,
if you have respect for men’s sperm!” Miriam proclaimed. “I hope to
have a regular troupe here soon, everyone knowing how precious it is to
be able to play naked and fuck. We’ll watch romances in between times,
to keep you men from being too beastly.”
The two waiters appeared, carrying a spreader bar. Miriam told
them to put it between my feet.
“Is this really necessary?” I asked, gritting my teeth a little
as I felt the leather loops at each end of the bar wrapped round my
ankles. The bar was three feet wide! I would be utterly theirs now,
not even able to tease anymore, for my legs were captive and spread,
like butterfly wings on a pegboard.
“Yes, you might get sore, and I need you to stay open ‘til the
last man or the last woman has had fun pleasuring you,” Miriam told me.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got KY right here to keep everything nice and wet.”
She showed me the bottle and then squeezed a bit of it into my open
gash. I was quite moist now. There was nothing left to do save to
accept my fate and ride it out.
Sauron dropped the first petal. I felt a little angry at him
and pretended to catch at it with my mouth, but I purposely missed it.
If Miriam noticed, she did not complain. I think she preferred joining
unfamiliar lovers in sex games. Since I’d arrived with Sauron, she
preferred that another fuck me.
Katy was next. Again I pretended to grab at her down-floating
petal with my teeth. Again I made sure I missed. Next came Sharon.
She was nice, a little flakey, I tried hard for her petal for I knew she
wouldn’t hurt me. But I missed. And then Sandy, lean and fire-eyed and
tawny brown from playing long hours in the sun, dropped her petal.
Something about her smouldering gaze made me feel I had to do my best to
catch it. And, my lips closing on it, my eyes widening in surprise, I
realized I had.
Sandy smiled a cat’s smile. Without even a moment’s
hesitation, she extruded her little tongue from her lips and dove for my
twat. I jerked. I felt a pink spear stab into my softness. My hips
rolled on the Hump. I gasped. She found my clitty and tortured it.
With heaving breasts, suffering a tension of need as Sandy
withdrew her tongue, I gasped out the remnants of my first orgasm.
Sandy had, as expertly as a nurse, brought me off. My gash yearned for
new attention. She left my hips and sauntered past my head. She gazed
down at my face and looked as if she would sit on it, if she could. But
Miriam didn’t want me to be a brownnose, at least not yet. Sandy
flicked her head, pretending she hadn’t really wanted me as Miriam
cautioned her not to sit. She strode back to her husband and told him
to try me next.
He approached. I did not know his name. I wanted to ask, but
he scared me. He was brawny and hard all over from weightlifting, not
least at the point that made itself quite important, standing up in all
12 of its glorious inches from the center of his form. With an iron
grip he seized my thighs with his palms.
“No, you must toss your petal first,” Miriam told him. He
glared at her.
“I’m not a fag,” he retorted. “Just let me fuck her.”
“Would you like me to throw your petal for you?” Sharon asked
him. He nodded at the strawberry blonde. She accepted the petal from
him and turned to me. She did not get behind the hump. He was taking
up all the space where she might have stood.
Leaning out, standing beside me, letting her breasts hang right
over me as if they were cow’s udders waiting for milktime, Sharon let
the little petal fly. I watched leery-eyed as it wafted down toward
me. This was cheating! Yet, afraid of the man between my legs, I
parted my lips and bobbed my head in little upward-rising motions. And
I caught it! I held the rose petal between my lips and realized I was
in for the fucking of my young life.
With hands of steel the man yanked my thighs even wider than
they already were. I coughed and cried out, losing my petal. He
stabbed at me with his prick. Miriam, helpfully, squirted a long stream
of oil upon his length as he made to put it up me.
I screamed. His entry was dynamic, pushy, unloving. He just
wanted IN, and my virgin-like tightness was not about to delay him. He
fucked me with hard-stabbing strokes and I felt my inner muscles give
way. Up he went, making me cry aloud as his hot-iron poker rammed deep
into me. Tears stung my eyes. He didn’t love me. He just wanted to
shoot. I was convenient. He let Sandy, his wife, turn his face with
her uplifted palm. Looking at her, not at me, he kissed her.
With flashing, deep-penetrating strokes Sandy’s hubby reamed me
as she and he kissed. Their tongues interwove. Her hands stroked his
ass and cupped his large hanging balls. He kept my thighs
rippingly-wide and forced me to take him entirely in thundering,
merciless thrusts.
For long minutes I was forced to endure his assault. At last,
enjoying himself immensely, his own wife squeezing his balls with
encouragement, my carefree lover spurted his seed into my cunt. I cried
with passion as his rudeness sent new waves of orgasm through me. I
shivered, I bucked, I tossed my head and wished it would be over, yet
also wished it would not be.
Withdrawing himself at last, my lover left me. Sandy bent and
kissed my tummy and licked up a little of her hubby’s sperm from my
dell. Then they walked away. His ass was small, tight, hairy. He let
it relax as he walked away from me. I watched the tension evaporate
from the hinds. Sandy, still needing her own release, swung her hips
eagerly. Together, holding hands, they both sat down on Jennifer’s
mattress. She was still holding her knees. Sandy crawled over to her
and undid her arms.
“Lie back,” I heard her whisper. “Have you ever rubbed clits
with a woman?”
I did not hear Jennifer’s answer. Sandy’s face murmured over
hers and then all sounds of words were replaced by soft tremulous sighs
and kissed. Sandy, with businesslike acumen, fitted her legs within the
intertwining legs of Jennifer, so that their slits would rub exactly
together.
Now the crowd parted. All pretense was lost as one group
sought Jennifer’s mattress, while the other dropped their petals and
descended on me. All was shamelessness. Miriam herself positioned
herself over my face and then lowered her big woman’s bottom onto my
nose. I inhaled. I smelt bathroom smells, but with a mingling of
perfume.
“Lick my hole,” Miriam told me. I felt hands grope between my
legs and fingers, seeking my clitty, brush through my pubic hair. I
stuck out my tongue. I wedged it between Miriam’s ass cheeks even as a
tongue lapped the undercurve of my own bottom.
HOT OFF THE PRESS
by holy joe
Exotic Magazine, Volume 5, Number 5, $1.95. 8 1/2” x 11” magazine, 46
pages with a slick cover. X Publishing, Inc., 625 SW 10th Avenue, Suite
324B, Portland, OR 97205. E-mail: xmag@teleport.com Web:
http://www.xmag.com
Review: Yikes! I thought I was going to get shot when I
opened this magazine! There’s a girl on the cover, looking directly at
me, and she’s pointing a gun at me. It looks quite realistic, almost
like 3-D.
Perhaps my nerves have become frayed. Today I was at the
mall. It was eleven o’clock in the morning, on a weekday. I was
leaving the mall, but I had to stop my car for a moment. In order not
to cause anybody any problems, I parked as far away from everyone and
everything else as I possibly could. Then I got out of my car and took
care of my business. (No, I wasn’t peeing.)
I was standing next to my car for about three minutes when I
see two security trucks circling around me. Then, one of them, his
headlights blazing, pulls up to where I’m standing. He wants to know
what I’m doing standing in the parking lot.
I told him, “I’m a human being and I’m on planet earth.” I
figured, maybe he thought I was from Venus. So this rent-a-cop tells me
that the mall’s parking lot “isn’t a public park.” (Wouldn’t you know,
I had this exact sort of thing happen to me previously at a public
park.)
In my opinion, America has become an insane country.
Everywhere you go you’re watched, monitored, and analyzed. And the
people doing the analysis aren’t exactly Ph.d’s. It was even worse a
few years ago, when all the security people were bone-headed
20-year-olds, fresh out of high school and eager to prove how moralistic
they were. Nowadays, as was the case with me today, the security people
are more likely to be washed-out middle-aged guys. But it’s still a
pain in the ass to have to deal with them.
Years ago, security people actually had (some) brains. They
knew to ‘play it cool.’ They wouldn’t just rush up to some guy and
start fucking with him. They’d wait. They knew that, if you waited,
you were more likely to find out what the person was actually doing.
This is helpful, since if the person is committing a crime you then have
real evidence, instead of having to make it up.
In my opinion, the current state of American society is
self-destructive. We are experiencing a ‘law and order’ craze. My
feeling however is that this craze will ultimately backfire. In my
case, it already has. This ‘law and order’ craze is the very reason I
publish Fuck Decency.
In the latest issue of Exotic Magazine, there is an excellent
article about a 16-year-old who was talking to his friend. They were
talking to each other, having a private conversation. But,
unfortunately for the 16-year-old, the mayor of Falls City, Iowa was
standing nearby. He arrested the 16-year-old for violating a local
ordinance against “profane language.” The 16-year-old was taken to the
police station. He was questioned. He was charged. Several days
later, the 16-year-old apologized. Nonetheless, he still had to show up
in court, and the charges against him were only dropped when the ACLU
got involved.
My advice to the 16-year-old is to publish on the Internet.
America was never meant to be some weird, tight-assed police state.
And, like I said, the whole ‘law and order’ craze looks to me like it’s
going to backfire. By publishing, say, ‘Fuck the Mayor’ regularly on
the Internet, you will actually help ameliorate the excessiveness of
this craze, and lessen the backfire effect. The mayor is a public
figure, so you can say anything you want about him, provided you’re not
expressing “actual malice.” Don’t threaten him with physical harm, and
don’t be malicious. What’s malicious? It’s hard to say, but basically
if you use some judgement with regard to what you’re writing, you won’t
have any problem.
For instance, it might be of interest to the mayor that right
next to the article about him, there’s a highly educational article
about sex. In reading this article, I was able to add two new words to
my vocabulary. I learned that “felching” means: “sucking sperm out of
your partner’s orifice after anal sex.” Even better, guess what
“shrimping” means, Mr. Mayor? It means: “the same as felching, except
using a straw.” (Page 30.)
Now I must admit, that is clever, isn’t it? “Belching” is, of
course, having stuff come out of your mouth. And now some wise sage has
come up with a word for stuff (specifically, sperm) going into your
mouth: “felching”. Be careful, however! “Felching” is a word that’s
dangerously close to “filching.” Imagine if you wanted to report a case
of “filching” to the mayor, perhaps of public monies, and you
accidentally said “felching” instead of filching! Then you’d be
accusing the person who filched of sucking sperm, and you’d be violating
the local ordinance against bad words, too! (But then there could be
two trials, instead of just one, which I suppose would make all the ‘law
and order’ people happy.)
Other articles in this magazine include “Babes, Guns and
Rock-N-Roll,” “Boogie Nights,” “StripperRock,” and “Hurts So Good,”
which reports on the “living in leather conference.”
Exotic Magazine is a monthly publication from Portland, Oregon
that has lots of ads for strippers in it. So if you know any mayors who
need to loosen up, perhaps a copy of this magazine, sent to their
address, will help them in finding a place to let off some steam. (Or
whatever else is backed-up inside them.)
AND IN THE END...
“Justice for all.”
- The Pledge of Allegiance
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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Scroll to the very bottom of the page that appears.
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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 339 EMISSION
- It’s a sad day for America when a man can’t take a quick shit in the
parking lot of a mall.
--
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