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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 363 Passions Playpen NND g2
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EARN YOUR DEGREE
in Pedophile Studies!
FULLY ACCREDITED
by Temple (of Pan) University!
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Hamilton? Sturges?
http://www.amazon.com
Issue No. 363
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Passion’s Playpen
Chapter One
The girl blanched. She drew back but this only put her closer
to the woman and the woman gagged her all the more quickly. Kate found
herself tasting canvas. It was shoved back into her mouth so that she
could not close her lips over it. Her tongue was pushed back by the gag
so that she could not speak at all.
Kate offered her breasts as she was gagged, quite
involuntarily, of course. But Maria tweaked her nipples, playfully,
perhaps to keep her obedient as the woman gagged her and tied the knot
firmly into the back of her head.
When Kate was gagged, the woman who had bound her mouth took a
key and unlocked the handcuffs which bound Kate’s elbows. Kate felt
them spring outward and immediately her posture relaxed a little. Her
arms felt sore from being so tightly constrained. She wanted to rub
them but the woman did not free her wrists. Maria contemplated Kate’s
belly button with her finger.
“You are ready now, my dear,” she said. “Ready to be spanked
hard, to break you down emotionally, and then have penises put into all
your girlish holes. As you can see, the men are quite well fitted out
for your denouement. You might have fucked before, with your boyfriend,
but now you will be really tested.” Maria stroked Kate’s hair, watching
how it fell across her shoulders and hung down to the level of her
boobs. She drew it back so that none of it could obscure her body in
any way. With a sinking heart Kate heard a snipping of scissors and
realized that the insidious woman behind her, who’d put a gag on her,
was now cutting apart her little fashionable vest and her blouse.
Instead of letting her hands be free, and having Kate undress for them,
they simply were ruining Kate’s favorite clothes, cutting them off her,
and Kate wondered frantically what she’d wear when it was time for her
to go home.
“She has a nice slim back,” the woman behind Kate commented.
Kate felt the woman’s hands run up her spine and feel her ribs. Her
vest, shorn from her shoulders, dropped to the floor. Kate felt her
blouse slip quickly away as the scissors separated it from her body.
Kate’s nipples seemed ever more stiff as she felt the scissors do their
work. She prayed that they would rise up and cut her gag off, but that
did not happen.
“Shall I cut her hair?” the woman with the scissors asked
Maria. “It is too long and it hides her back.” Maria, who was playing
with the loop of the crop in Kate’s belly button, poking at it, replied,
“A little. Not too short, but a little.” Kate felt a shivering fear
possess her as the wicked scissors sliced across her back. Even her
hair! She looked down and saw her beautiful mane of hair shortened as
the snips cut by the scissors fell to the floor, sprinkling her
torn-away blouse and her vest. Maria, who’d grown bored with her smooth
tummy and its little inpoking belly button, let her hand drift down to
Kate’s sex, where her tuft of private hair grew. Maria tugged at the
little curling wisps of hair on Kate’s sex and the girl wondered if
she’d be shorn there next, perhaps by a straight-edged razor, working
quickly and cutting her sex lips as it shaved her clean.
Kate could think of nothing now but escaping and it frightened
her that she had no hope of doing that. Never had she been in a
predicament like this; not when a man had followed her home, not when a
guy had gone too far with her. Here, among these adults, all was soft
and insidiously caring even as Kate felt her hair shortened. Women
refilled punch glasses for each other and the men. Mustard was squirted
on crackers topped by cheese and the little crackers were eaten, the
guests growing bored as they watched Maria tease Kate. The men were as
hard and expectant as ever but they let their girlfriends feed them
crackers and little sausages as they waited for permission to fuck.
Maria controlled all with just a glance. She expected them to wait and,
despite their hardness, they seemed in no hurry, rather enjoying their
erections and the attention it brought them from their wives and
girlfriends. The females squirmed a little, their own need increasing.
They walked with hips that swayed ever more invitingly, and a few rubbed
each others pussies, briefly, to assuage the heat rising within their
wombs. Surely Eden, had it been stocked with more than one man and one
woman, would have looked like this. Fingers prepared crackers and then
fed them, increasingly, not into the mouth that had commanded their
making but into the mouth of another. They fed each other. At Maria’s
insistence they concentrated on feeding not their wives or their
husbands, but others instead, so that the helpful fingers that probed
with crackers into waiting, open mouths fed the mouth of a stranger, not
a familiar lover.
As the guests giggled and enjoyed a naked feast, Maria turned
her attention once again to Kate. The girl jerked as the woman behind
her poked a finger between her ass cheeks and probed her anus.
“Do not expect much comfort at first, although we’ve been nice
to you up ‘til now,” Maria told Kate. “You are not a child. If you
were, and your lover had brought you to me, I might simply spank you
over my knee. A spank, a quick poke of his penis, some loving kisses to
console you, and a lollipop would be all that was required, or wanted.
Just yesterday a darling 10-year-old model was brought, by her lover, a
man she greatly admired and wanted to please. I asked her if she really
wanted to lose her hymen, and she nodded so enthusiastically, not
knowing, perhaps, what it really meant for her, but eager to please all
the same. I gave her her first bare-bottomed spanking. Girls these
days! Can you imagine that they go through a whole decade of life, or
even two, and their fathers never put them over their knees and spank
them? I’m sure girls these days are no gooder than girls in previous
ages. But, anyway, when she was all teary-eyed and I’d hoped that I’d
knocked some sense into her, I asked her again if she really wanted to
lose her virginity. And she nodded, crying now, just as
enthusiastically as she had before, poor dear. So I took her upstairs
and gave her a teddy bear to hug and I pulled her lover’s pants down and
kissed him and told him to do his work. He was a little afraid himself,
I think, not about the Law, you know, for he had dated her and had to
deal with that sort of problem every day, but rather he was afraid for
her. With her white legs spread out on the bed, hugging her teddy and
showing her sex to him, all vulnerable and open as she could be and
ready, he looked at her and was afraid he might hurt her. I assured him
he couldn’t. She would scream a little, and there would be a little
blood, but she was old enough to take him and I pushed him forward so
that he would not leave her waiting too long. I didn’t want her to
recant, now that she’d come this far. But still he wouldn’t fuck her,
though he’d striven mightily to win her and fend off the State. He
started kissing her belly (which might, you know, swell with his seed,
though I did do my best to prevent that) and he said over and over, “My
virgin! My little virgin!”
“Well, I was about ready to whip out a strap-on dildo and fuck
the girl myself, it was taking so long! But finally, with me stroking
his hips and encouraging him and telling him it was O.K., and exciting
him too, he plunged into her.
“And that was it. When she’d been broken open and fucked a
good long time (he had amazing reserve, even in fucking her), I got her
up and tidied her and sent her home. I let her keep the teddy bear.
She went out holding his hand, her hips wriggling happily, and a little
sorely, I would presume. But I was not about to let her do more. You,
on the other hand, my dear, though you might be almost as innocent as
that girl, must be given much more. I intend to keep you here at least
a full week and to open you up in every possible way. You must learn to
fully accept a man. Not just in your cunt, but in your precious
bottom. And your mouth, too, though its gagged now, must be trained to
give the best blowjobs. Believe me, how ever much you’ve practised, I
can teach you more in the art of blowing a man’s penis. It will be a
very intrusive week for you. Do not expect to own or control your body
in any way.”
CLOTHED AT THE NEWSSTAND
by holy joe
Hump, April 1998, $2.95. The magazine “for girls who dare to be real.”
Send address change to: JUMP, P.O. Box 55954, Boulder, CO 80328.
No web site listed. No e-mail address listed. No phone number
listed (for ordering copies through the mail.) No address listed (for
ordering single copies through the mail.)
Q: Are we in business, or are we just yanking our weider?
Published by Joe Weider.
Review: Recently I was in Brooklyn. (Hey, somebody has to be
there, right?) I was passing by the Brooklyn Academy of Music. I must
admit, I was rather shocked that there was an ‘Academy of Music’ in
Brooklyn, but what do I know? I went inside.
I didn’t go in to the Academy of Music to appreciate music,
however. I had to use the toilet. I looked all around for the
bathroom. But I couldn’t find it. Then I said to myself, “Joe, you
know how these Art people are. They’re always doing something
perverted. Think like a pervert. Then maybe you’ll find the toilet.”
I did. Sure enough, there was their toilet, sitting right out
in public view! (Silly me. I’d been looking all the way in the back of
the building!) Believe it or not, not only was the toilet in the
Brooklyn Academy of Music in public view. It was surrounded by velvet
ropes!
“I gotta admit. These Art folks do know how to shit in style,”
I said to myself.
I went to the bathroom. Normally I try to have something to
read, when I’m taking a shit. But in this case, it wasn’t necessary. I
just sat there looking at all the people visiting the museum. I waved
to three cute little girls. They were shocked. So was their mother.
But I told them, “This facility is devoted to Art. It’s funded by the
N.E.A. What do you expect?”
I finished my business and went back outside.
Today I learned an amazing fact. While going through the
latest issue of Jump, looking for underage girls in bikinis, I found the
very toilet I took a shit in! It’s shown right here on page 128 of
Jump. And do you know what? This toilet not only has the distinction
of being used by me, it was also used by Princess Di!
(Amazing. Great butts shit alike.)
But I’m not happy with this issue of Jump. There isn’t a
single photo of a girl in a swimsuit in this entire fucking issue!
Worse, from the perspective of the female reader, there is no male
pictorial in this issue either. There are a few sorry photos of guys
playing basketball, but that’s all. (Page 46)
What’s worthwhile in this issue? I thought “Nudie Beauty” was
well written. (Page 118.) It tells how to put on makeup. There’s also
a summer jobs section. The jobs offered are a little unusual, though.
They’re called “internships.” This means that you pay them, instead of
them paying you. If you want to pay $150.00 to spend your summer
cleaning out a barn, check page 96.
You may have heard about “oral sex” on T.V. If you’re confused
as to what a girl does during oral sex, check page 76. There’s an
excellent full color photo. Just replace the scoop of ice cream
depicted with Bill Clinton’s penis. (The age of the girl doesn’t need
to be changed.)
“The Breakup Survival Guide” was pretty good. (Page 73.) I
found the advice to be quite useful, particularly the advice to “Do
mind-numbing activities.” You don’t actually need to break up with
someone to need this advice. I’ve found that just seeing someone I
like, and not being able to have them, is enough.
The most interesting article of all in this issue is “Chasing
Barbie.” (Page 58.) Various girls spill their emotions about plastic
surgery: why they felt compelled to have it, and how they felt about it
afterward.
Danielle, 16, writes: “This was my chance to be the prettiest,
and she (my twin sister) was wrecking it! I asked her, ‘Why do you have
to get a nose job too? Is it because if I get one, I’ll look better
than you and you’ll be jealous?’ She admitted this was true.”
As it happened, the pretty twin sister sailed through her
plastic surgery, while Danielle had a procedure that lasted much longer
and left her (still) looking less attractive than her sister.
Danielle’s still unhappy, and her sister is still the prettiest.
If you want my advice, girls, it’s this: “It doesn’t matter
how you look. What matters is how your boyfriend looks.”
You might assume that every guy in the world is a well-informed
connoisseur of beauty. In fact, though, many studly guys can’t tell a
good-looking girl from an average girl. Especially if the average girl
uses ‘standard tricks’ to make herself look as pretty as possible.
Remember this: many things in life are bought and sold. But
love is not. Love is a “barter market.” You need to be near the person
to meet them. Someone who would fall head over heels with you might
live, say, in New Jersey, while you live in California. Unless you meet
on the Internet, you have no chance of meeting this person, even though
you’d both fall instantly in love! (And, on the Net, you’d have little
chance of meeting this person, since you might be on one part of the Net
and he might be on another. Even then, you usually don’t know what the
other person looks like, on the Net.) So just because you’re unlucky in
love doesn’t mean nobody likes you. It simply means that there’s nobody
in your immediate physical space who likes you.
So, don’t worry how pretty your sister is. Instead, try to
meet lots of guys. Some won’t be interested. Others, though, will be.
I still remember sitting at a swimming pool with this guy, watching a
girl swimming laps. I thought she was only average. But he was very
impressed by her! (Specifically, he said to me: “Wow! That girl is
practically falling out of her bathing suit!”)
Last but not least, there’s this article in Jump: “12 reasons
why girls should rule the world.” (Page 18) I have no objection to
this article. However, it would be greatly appreciated if you girls
would wear string bikinis while you’re busy ruling the world. And tell
Jump to print some photos of them, too.
THE GREAT ‘BOYS vs. GIRLS’ CONTEST
sponsored by holy joe
Jump, in their April issue, writes: “Anything boys can do,
girls can do better.” (Page 19).
Okay, girls. I accept your challenge. I propose a contest.
We shall see if this boast of yours is true, or not. Who can do this
better, me or a girl?
a. Publish a dumb newsletter.
b. Pick boogers out of my nose.
c. Yank on my dick.
d. Wipe my butt.
e. Cook, clean, and sew.
I feel that I can do all of the above better than any girl.
However, if you’re a girl, and think you can do better, please write me!
HIDDEN MEANINGS
by Kelley Brandyberry
The terrifying ecstasy building just below the
Skin is wet and tight; thrilling with each touch of your
Hands tremble ever so lightly, tracing my
Heart pounds steadily. My eyes never leaving you
Eyes are wild, penetrating. Promising of a
Vow that can’t be broken. The words fall off your
Tongue slipping, wandering here and
There comes a time the time has come for a
Jagged high that will not end.
AND IN THE END...
Sturges? Hamilton?
THE CHRISTIAN COALITION’S GOAL
“Every art, in India, belonged to religion rather than to art,
and was the handmaiden of theology.”
- The Story of Civilization, by Will and Ariel Durant, Volume 1, pg.
595.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant
Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art!
- 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.
-Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan
-END OF 363 EMISSION
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