- NND ---------------------------------------------------------
BUSH HEROIN-FREE
campaign aide claims
Hi, holy joe here. I have a friend. I guess IÕm his campaign aide,
since heÕs planning to run for president. His name is Larry Bush. He
mostly does drugs. He doesnÕt care about current events. But one day,
back in 1992, he happened to pick up the paper. He noticed that America
was electing a pot smoker president.
ÒNot bad,Ó Larry said, and went back to his drugs.
Then Larry picked up the paper this summer. He noticed that
America was thinking about electing a cocaine user president.
ÒNot bad,Ó Larry said again, but this time he didnÕt go back to doing
drugs.
ÒI got to thinking,Ó Larry told me, as we sat in the Burger King. ÒIf
America is willing to elect a pot smoker president, and a cocaine user,
what about a heroin addict?Ó
I explained to Larry that George W. Bush could pass the current F.B.I.
background check.
ÒWell so can I!Ó Larry insisted. ÒIÕve been drug free for a month!
Look, hereÕs how I see it. I expect George W. Bush will be president. HeÕll
probably be president for eight years. After all Clinton, a pot smoker, was
president for eight years. So IÕm not going to run until 2008. One month,
plus seven years, means IÕll be able to pass the F.B.I. background check
too!Ó
Larry gazed longingly out the window as the local drug dealer walked
by.
ÒLarry,Ó I said, watching the dealer. ÒDonÕt blow it! I think youÕve
got a point. In eight years you could be in the White House, fighting
AmericaÕs War on Drugs.Ó
ÒYes, Larry said. He shook himself. ÒHeck, I donÕt have any money
anyway,Ó Larry said. ÒIÕve been broke for a month. Ever since I stuck a
heroin needle in somebodyÕs tire while I was checking their air.Ó
ÒOh, yeah,Ó I said. ÒI wondered why I hadnÕt seen you at the gas
station.Ó
ÒBut I could fight our nationÕs War on Drugs!Ó Larry told me. ÒI could
help our children. I could tell them why drugs are so bad, since IÕve been
using them for 42 years.Ó
ÒIÕm sure youÕd do a good job,Ó I said.
ÒYes I would!Ó he assured me. ÒHow can a man say whatÕs good or
bad if he doesnÕt know anything about the bad? I mean, could a virgin tell
you how bad an orgy is? I doubt it! HeÕd probably think it sounded pretty
good. Well, itÕs the same with drugs. You have to USE them to know how
awful they are. You have to get high, and get girls high, and then fuck
them, since theyÕre too high to protest. Only then will you know of the
wages of sin!Ó
Larry rushed to the door of the Burger King. ÒWait! Wait!Ó he
shouted to the neighborhood drug dealer.
I jumped up. ÒLarry!Ó I cried. Larry ran out the door. I went running
after him. ÒYou donÕt have any money!Ó I yelled.
ÒYes I do!Ó Larry answered. He pointed at the drug dealer. ÒHe needs
someone to help him sell drugs! IÕll do it-- then IÕll have money! And then
I can explain to AmericaÕs children why dealing is so bad. Heck IÕm
amazed I havenÕt investigated this type of sin already. ThatÕs probably
why IÕm not president right now... IÕve been too LAX in sinning!Ó
Well, Larry is now our new neighborhood drug dealer. He decided to
set up shop next to the elementary school, so he could better educate
AmericaÕs children about the evils of drugs. HeÕs gotten laid a few times
too. I suppose this will help Larry teach AmericaÕs children about the
evils of preteen sex. Yes, I would say that by 2008 Larry will not only be
highly educated himself, but will be able run as The Education President.
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 128
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Thirteen
... They were going to a party together, outside the castle, and he would be
expected to enjoy cocktails and get to know the other guests. He could not
arrive with an emission inside his pants. He had to hold himself.
Nonetheless instead of being the best sort of slave, and not undoing him or
teasing him, she reached into his pants and pinched at the large coiled
snake of his penis, so thick, that lounged (with increasing discomfort)
there.
ÒIt is enough,Ó he said. He reached down and pulled her hand back but
she arched her tongue out, naughtily, and stabbed at his underpants,
pressing her tongue hard to wet the cotton with her saliva. ÒIt is enough,Ó
he said again. His voice was stern. He drew her head back away from him
and then zipped himself up. Like a spoiled child denied candy, she turned
so that her face glared up at his. She pouted and gave him a look of
complete feminine disapproval.
ÒYou need a collar,Ó he replied, fingering her bare throat again. If
sheÕd had a collar on he could have pulled her head back more firmly.
Instead heÕd had to get his fingers around her neck, pushing past the lovely
veil of her blonde mane which ran from her head down to the middle of her
back, cut just short enough so that its ends couldnÕt cover her breasts.
She was uncuffed, uncollared, wearing clothes. It felt so strange.
She was used to being bare, with steel cuffs firmly keeping her hands
behind her, except when she asked permission to play games with Debbi.
Even tanning by the pool she had been handcuffed. And at mealtime Althea
had fed her with a spoon. The food had been cut into small portions so
that a spoon could handle it, whatever it was. The Sultan had taken great
delight in seeing her fed like a baby, but with her hands securely
imprisoned behind her. She had been forbidden a bib, so that when she
spilled food, unused to being fed by another, it fell onto her breasts and
Althea had to lick it off. SheÕd had to be especially careful sipping hot
liquids. A mistake would have scalded her bosoms. Althea, who
sometimes seemed reckless in spoon feeding her, as if to cause some food
to spill, was always careful when giving her sips of hot liquid. She was
grateful that Althea was so kind. Another female might have felt jealous
or mean and might have deliberately scalded her breasts or her nipples,
but Althea was very kind. Nonetheless she obeyed all the directives of the
Sultan and permitted Kate only what he allowed. Kate was forced to go
potty in a childrenÕs potty and then empty and clean it herself. She was
made to wear handcuffs at night, in her sleep. And if she used any
indecent words she was sure to receive a slap across her face. Despite
their nudity at the castle and the sensuality of their treatment, being fed
and bathed in handcuffs, and allowed whims, which were hastily fulfilled
by Arab servants, the girls were to speak decently. No swear words were
permitted and they could not speak of base things. Always, no matter
what they might be doing, they were to use only the words allowed in a
properly run schoolroom, calling shit ÒB/MÓ and piss Òmaking water.Ó
Only on rare occasions, as on the first night when Althea had brought Kate
to satisfaction after her horsey ride, both of them disobeying the castleÕs
rules, was Kate allowed to speak naughtily. The only other time Kate
might use bad words was during an ordeal, but only if the Sultan chose to
excuse them, after hearing them.
Now, though, looking up at Faisal, Kate chose to disobey.
ÒWere you afraid youÕd cum?Ó she asked him. She stared at him like
a defiant, unruly child. Then when he met her gaze, she turned her face
away. She trembled a little as he put his hands to her naked breasts. He
traced the outline of her stiff nipples and bent them slightly, as if testing
them for some ordeal.
ÒYou are a slut,Ó he said to her frankly. The men at the castle were
encouraged to use swear words whenever possible. They routinely
referred to the girls as sluts, or whores, however prettily the girls might
be dressed, however proper their manners. Their breasts were spoken of
crudely and their bottoms were described in terms suitable only for
animals. They did not possess a Òderriere,Ó as the girls were required to
say, but Òfat little asses.Ó Their breasts were called ÒhootersÓ or some
other insulting male term. Frequently they were beckoned or dismissed
with reference solely to their sex, their names being omitted entirely, as
in, Òcome here, cuntÓ or Òtake your pussy to bed.Ó
Lying on FaisalÕs lap, looking away from him at the coffee table in
front of them, Kate wondered if indeed he might be right. She found
herself luxuriating in the castleÕs ways as she waited for her bottom to
heal. Only the Sultan could touch her, or Althea. Everyone else was at her
beck and call. She had earned her stripes, so to speak, and the servants
knew they must obey her in her requests, whether they be for chocolate or
her favorite flavor of yogurt or a snack of lobster, fresh from the Arabian
sea. The Sultan did not mind the expense, apparently. Despite being
reduced to mere cunnies the girls were treated like princesses by the
servants. Kate had never felt so loved, despite being mistreated, and as
she lay face up on FaisalÕs lap, having teased him to the point of losing
control, she wondered if she indeed was just a lazy slut. But as FaisalÕs
fingertips caressed her nipples, threatening to hurt them at any moment,
she felt she was not a slut. She was a prisoner. She was captive to the
men in her life, mere strangers days before, now completely in control of
her every movement. Yet she felt a certain pride in her ability to handle
captivity. She was not oppressed by it. Another female might have been
but she accepted it with an equanimity that surprised even her. It was as
if she was testing herself, seeing what her limits were, and these men
were just convenient, helpful to her as she journeyed down a sexual path
toward some kind of fulfillment as a woman. Kate arched her back and
forced her breasts more deeply into FaisalÕs hands.
Instead of pinching her breasts he spoke to her. And as he spoke he
began toying with the idea of offering her her freedom. Of course, she was
not his to give away, she belonged to the sultan. But at the present
moment they were both out of the castle, travelling to a party which
promised to keep them for the night. She had no collar on and no handcuffs
restraining her. Her clothing was sexy but it was hot, and she was an
American, and might get away with being dressed this way, provided she
moved quickly and found someone to help her.
Yes, she could escape, maybe, for Faisal was careless in not
handcuffing her and collaring her and keeping her on a leash. But as he
spoke to her it became clear to her that he wanted her to feel free. He
wanted her as a companion at the party. He didnÕt want her to arrive as a
slave, but to feel free like the other women at the party, and to enjoy
herself. He wanted to see her chit-chat freely with the other women and
share secrets with them and since they were all free, mostly American
wives or girlfriends of oil company executives, he wanted her to feel free
too. He had spent his whole life in a society where women were captives
and the idea of Kate being a free Western woman, but also his companion,
entranced him. So he offered her her freedom.
ÒWhat if I donÕt want it?Ó Kate asked him. She stuck her tongue out
at him. ÒWhat if I am just a slut?Ó
ÒYou are too young to be a slut,Ó Faisal said frankly. He teased her
nipples with his fingers, pressing harder on them. She wiggled her
breasts as if to free her nipples from his grasp but he held them more
tightly with his fingertips. ÒIf you donÕt want to be free,Ó he said, Òthen
you know what might happen.Ó He tugged at her nipples and she knew to
what he was referring. A girl who disobeyed at the castle, especially by
having sex with other girls when the men were not watching, might well
have her nipples cut off.
Kate ran her tongue over her lips. It was as if she were
contemplating something, building up to a decision. Then, with her nipples
still trapped in his fingers, she told him: ÒI donÕt want to be free. I want
to be a slut and belong to the sultan.Ó She made sure he knew that she
didnÕt want to belong to him.
Faisal sighed. ÒThen your nipples must certainly be pierced,Ó he
said. ÒAs a sign of possession.Ó To illustrate the point he pinched her
nipples hard. She cried out. ÒYes,Ó Faisal said, watching her mouth open
and gasp and her eyelashes flutter. ÒPierced and then fitted with small
golden rings so that you may be lead about by your nipples, with a leash
attached to each. And within the crack of your bottom you must be
branded, with the SultanÕs brand, so that anyone who opens you knows you
belong to him. And your tongue must be pierced also, and a ring put
through it, so that you speak with a satisfying lisp, and can be led around
by your tongue if you should be unfortunate enough to lose your nipples.Ó
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POETRY
by Dan Barfield
Willie-boy,...limited
computer access time...
Beautiful day here...
silvery-bright, the ocean
like a silver-blue mirror,
palm trees whispering to the wind.
white
birds standing like virgin brides
against the yellow-green of the
marsh....
been painting hard, doing good work--I think--
still living off
of peas and rice and fish....
crabbing "ainÕt worth a
damn!"
....television donÕt work anymore
(thank God..No distractions there!)
Still no phone...
doubt I'll get one.....
Joe's doing alright
since he cut off his thumb..
learning to paint without
it
Robert-called-Duncan
...still walking around with his flashlight.....
Latino girls still beautiful,
but untouchable......take
care,old friend....Dan
For more poetry visit:
http://www.angelfire.com/al2/willdockerypoems/index.html
AND IN THE END...
ÒTurn on, Tune in, Get Elected!Ó
- Timothy Leary (slightly altered).
--------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------
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-----Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
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