---------------------------------------------------------------
        PROBLEMS?  Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------

             Just when you thought it was safe to open your mail...

                                      Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY

                                              Issue No. 372

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                            PassionÕs Playpen

                                              Chapter Three

         ÒYou will lose all your cherries here, but gain a few weals,Ó the 
woman laughed.  It was her first show of emotion, and her bosoms hove 
within her apron, large watermelons too big and weighty and close to the 
earth to delight menÕs eyes, but they might have been sought after when 
she was young like Kate.
         ÒDid you ever?Ó Kate asked, pausing, feeling within herself to see if 
her hole was okay.  It felt okay.  But it was difficult, feeling her butthole.  
It was in back of her, after all!
         ÒI do not do such foolish things,Ó the woman said dismissively.  She 
waved her sponge in the air, flicking a little soap onto the wall.  
         ÒBut, when you were younger...Ó Kate offered.
         ÒI work.  Stalin make us work.  Then I marry young.  No time for such 
foolishness.  But you Americans always like sex, thatÕs what they teach us 
in Russia.  All American girls like popping their cherries and would 
corrupt Russia if it were not for Stalin.  So we were told.  Now, I think 
there might be girls like you in Russia, but I am there no longer.  I am here 
now, and Maria pay me very well because I keep everything tidy and clean.  
And, you know, the men are not bad to look at.  Not bad at all...Ó the woman 
said, and she smiled, but mostly to herself.
         ÒHave you--?Ó Kate asked, feeling like a small child talking to a 
newly arrived grandmother.
         ÒAh, your lover!  Please do not ask me speak of him.  He is an 
entertaining fellow!Ó the woman replied.  And she let her eyes dart and her 
hands move in such a way that Kate guessed sheÕd seen his erection.  ÒHe 
is, like we say in Russia, a good friend to the lady mule if the man mule 
should expire.Ó  The woman laughed again.  Kate blushed.  Her loverÕs 
manhood seemed to have become public knowledge in this place.  ItÕs 
length, its thickness.  It was an admirable weapon, to be sure, but Kate 
preferred that it not be made an item of gossip among the woman and any 
friends she possessed.  
         Then Kate realized her own bosoms, her own cunt, would be added to 
the womanÕs stories.  What would she tell her friends back in Russia?  ÒA 
girl, big bosoms, she likes having them hit with a crop, and her legs too.  I 
had to wash her.  Such silly girls in America.  Stalin would straighten 
them out but heÕs dead, alas.  She has no cherries left.  No, no.  Nothing to 
give to her husband.Ó  
         Kate felt her blush deepen and the woman, seeing that their chat had 
ended, opened KateÕs legs again and thrust the sponge within and bathed 
KateÕs cunt as if Kate were a fish being readied for some Russian market.  
Kate was cleaned out and washed down and when the woman was done she 
rinsed her with water and helped her out of the tub.  She toweled Kate 
down and then took her to a vanity and plopped her down in front of it and 
did KateÕs hair and makeup for her.
         ÒI can manage,Ó Kate said, but the woman insisted.  Kate was only to 
sit and let herself be worked on.  She could do nothing herself.  Then, when 
her brows had been stenciled and her eyelashes brushed, and her hair 
braided, with just two braids near her cheeks, leaving the rest hanging 
free, and KateÕs lips had been brightened with lipstick, and her nipples 
given just a touch of rouge, as well as her cunny lips, the woman told Kate 
she was ready.
         But there was yet one more necessity.  ÒYou are too free,Ó the 
woman, who confided as she opened a slatted folding closet that her name 
was Bess, said to Kate.  Within the closet, on the shelves above, Kate saw 
clean white towels folded neatly for the bath.  But on the lower shelves, 
here in the bathroom where sheÕd just been given her bath and made up, 
Kate saw chains.  They were equipped with cuffs, the links slim and the 
cuffs slim.  They gleamed like the silver bell had on her nightstand beside 
her bed.
         ÒI must chain your ankles and your wrists,Ó Bess told Kate.  
         ÒBut why?Ó Kate asked.  She contemplated the chains with a finger 
in her mouth, like a child looking at an unwanted pair of shoes, Sunday 
shoes perhaps, too tight and stiff for play.
         ÒSo that only your breasts are free, and your bottom.  So they may 
position you how you like and you will not be able to refuse.  Come, you 
might have visited someplace else with your lover, a hotel room perhaps, 
or a motel, but you chose to visit here.  Do not make me call for help.  In 
Russia we girls know when we must do as we are told.Ó
         Perhaps to please the old woman, perhaps only to test how it felt to 
be in such a captive state, a prisoner, really, for they were prison chains, 
though covered over in silver to make them more agreeable to MariaÕs 
home, Kate let herself be manacled.  Bess did her ankles first, binding 
them with the cuffs so that Kate felt as if she were wearing boots.  But 
they were not boots, just anklets connected by a length of chain.  Kate 
tried walking a little in the anklets when the woman had fitted them to 
her legs.  They jangled against the tiled floor.
         ÒCareful not to trip over the chain,Ó Bess warned Kate.  ÒThe chain 
should be shorter but they insisted you wear a long one so they can easily 
spread your legs.  Keep your head down and watch the chain at all times.  
If you fall, you might be hurt, and Maria would take it very badly.  And she 
would punish you after the doctor left, for you are always to be ready for 
sex here, not injured and disabled.Ó
         Kate shivered in her chains.  She lifted her wrists to her chin and 
studied herself, feeling her forearms as they pillowed themselves against 
her breasts.  Her nipples were stiff.  Her tummy, flat under her bosoms, 
drew in a little as she held her breath.  Gently Bess turned her so that she 
faced the woman.  
         ÒYou are hungry for a man,Ó Bess said openly, noticing how moist 
Kate had become between her thighs since Bess had dried her after her 
bath.  Kate had not touched herself during the night, though she was angry 
at her lover after her whipping across the backs of her thighs.  She had 
cried herself to sleep, rolling and tossing, and when once she awoke and 
found in horror that her hand was between her thighs, sheÕd drawn it up to 
her tummy and slapped it.  ÔBad hand,Õ sheÕd scolded herself.  But now, 
letting herself be chained, probably because she was, indeed, so 
thoroughly consumed with her nudity and the presence of her lover in the 
house, she wished she had rubbed herself to bliss, so that she could be 
more sensible now.
         Bess, smiling to herself, fitted handcuffs around KateÕs wrists.  
Kate tried resisting a little but the big Russian woman had no difficulty 
catching KateÕs wrists and holding them in her big old hands, thick with 
cream to keep them from getting age spots, though they were spotted 
already.  Kate felt small.  Her body was frail and she was only 5 feet 2 
inches tall.  But her legs were slim, giving her a leggy, runway modelÕs 
look.  Her bottom cheeks were distinct juddering halves, each full and 
round and jutting out like a childÕs.  Her hips were slender.  Her waist was 
very small in circumference.  And there there were her breasts, big and 
heavy and huge in proportion to the rest of her, Playboy breasts.  Men 
might have dismissed her as petite, but her breasts announced that she 
was not petite where it counted.  And so, walking down the street, heads 
would turn, and mouths open, and a man, busy the moment before with his 
thoughts and affairs, might come running up behind her, and somehow get 
in front of her, just to get another look at those delightful breasts.  And 
then, having satisfied his urgent need to look, he would begin to be a little 
embarrassed, for he was certain he was in the presence of a schoolgirl, a 
minor.  Kate would smile, and give her head a toss, letting her ponytail, 
which she loved wearing, bounce across her back.  The man would grow 
more nervous, for everyone could see him as he stared at this little girl 
walking calmly (if bouncily) across the street, and he was sure they would 
think him a pervert.
         It was how Kate met her lover.  Except he, unlike the rest, had the 
courage to greet her and ask her name.  She kept walking, and he had been 
going in the opposite direction, but now, as she crossed the street on her 
way home from school she led him right back across it.  Yet he did not 
desist in his efforts to get her name, and her phone number.  So she sat 
down finally, on a bench where busses stopped, and she let him talk to her.  
She pulled her ponytail round in front of her and twirled it in her fingers.  
She threaded her fingers through it, and brushed it lightly across her 
breasts as he talked.  She was sure it would scare him off, looking at her 
pink sweater, and her pleated skirt, and her bobby socks.  But he carried 
the conversation quite nicely.  And he discovered, of course, that she was 
a college girl, and quite legal (though still too young yet to drink).  And so 
he dated her, and they became lovers.
         And now she was letting him take her on a wild ride she could not 
have imagined two weeks ago when they met.  And she wondered, standing 
there in the nude, with Bess fitting her wrists into the chained manacles, 
whether sheÕd made the right choice.  SheÕd chosen him for his boldness.  
For his refusal to bend to contemporary morals.  And now she was reaping 
the full harvest of that, for he was interested in much more than just 
making love to her.  
         Yet he had been gentle, not taking her in her bottom when she 
refused him there.  But, then again, here sheÕd been most brutally violated, 
last night, with Maria shoving a cucumber up her virgin ass.  Kate 
wondered if she needed such bizarreness to be able to let go and surrender 
herself.  She had, indeed, a conservative upbringing.  Her parents had not 
allowed her to date as much as she liked.  And now, perhaps to catch up 
with where she wanted to be (did she want it?) she was letting herself in 
for much more than just a cock up her ass.

                                           MAGAZINE REVIEW
                                                by holy joe

CHERI, July 1998, $6.99.  CHERI Magazine, 801 Second Avenue, New York, 
NY 10017.  No web site listed.

         Review:  Recently, I was standing at Tower Books.  I was perusing 
their magazine rack.  I saw this issue of CHERI sitting up on the rack.  I 
almost didnÕt pick it up.  I thought, ÒSure, it may be the worldÕs biggest 
sex mag, with over 300 pages, but what good is that if all you get is one 
boring pictorial after another, each featuring only one girl?Ó
         Then I noticed that there were only two copies of this issue left on 
the newsstand.  Each one of them looked rather beat-up.  I have learned 
that when you see only one or two copies of a magazine, and they both look 
fucked, that is a strong indication that the issue is a very good one.  So, 
looking nervously around to make sure there werenÕt any pretty girls in 
the bookstore, I grabbed this issue.
         Good God!  What a great issue this is!  This issue of CHERI may be the 
greatest single porno magazine ever produced!
         ÒTongue TrioÓ (page 100) is a stunner.  Three Mayfair-quality girls 
play with a dildo.  First, dressed in sexy club clothes, they take turns 
sucking it, wearing it (with a harness) and jabbing each other with it.  
Then they undress and use the dildo to squirt each other with fluid.  
         Some of the shots in ÒTongue TrioÓ are amazing.  For instance, you 
see a girlÕs cunt, threaded by the underside of the dildoÕs harness, (which 
looks like a g-string) as she wears the penis.  She twists the penis up, 
lifting it, so that you see her bush, her (threaded) slit, and at the same 
time, of course, you see the fake penis, held tightly in her small hand.  She 
squeezes the penis and squirts fluid into her girlfriendÕs bottomcrack.  
What I really liked in this pictorial was the juxtaposition of close-up 
shots featuring the penis dry (not squirting) and wet (squirting).  You can 
see both photos on the same page, and drool over the penis both before it 
shoots, and as it is shooting.  At the same time there is plenty of 
femininity in each photo, so that despite staring at some manÕs big (fake) 
cock, you are always reminded that youÕre looking at a GIRL pictorial, and 
you can rest assured that you arenÕt turning into a fag.
         The final shot in ÒTongue TrioÓ is a centerfold.  You open it up to see 
a laughing girl, her naked tits hanging down, clad in the penis-harness and 
squeezing the fake dick in order to shoot fluid into her friendÕs open 
snatch.  In this centerfold shot you see the girl who is wearing the penis, 
and doing the shooting, simultaneously getting her tits licked by the girl 
she is squirting with fluid.  There is also another girl in this centerfold, 
who is licking the tits of the girl who is licking the tits of the girl who is 
shooting fluid with her fake penis.
         (No.  ThereÕs no error in that last sentence.  You see a girl licking 
another girlÕs tits, who in turn is licking the tits of the girl who is 
shooting out fluid with her fake penis.  Like I said, you are always 
reminded that you are looking at a GIRL pictorial when you enjoy these 
photos.)
         ÒBabes in the WoodsÓ (page 166) is another fantastic pictorial.  It 
features three girls and three guys having a camp out.  A highlight of this 
pictorial is that these college-age girls all look like they are having a 
great time.  They are truly experiencing emotional highs as they enjoy 
creating this pictorial.  You see them smiling, gazing at each other, and 
looking with surprised eyes at the cocks of the males.  
         ÒBabes in the WoodsÓ hits a home run when you see two girls put a 
manÕs naked penis into a hot dog bun.  They lay his dick in the bun and then 
squirt mustard on it as he, shocked, laughs his head off.  Then both girls 
add pickle relish.  The whole time they are having a lot of fun; these arenÕt 
just bored actors Ôgoing through the motions.Õ  Watch with delight as the 
two girls, having put condiments all over the manÕs dick, now vie with 
each other to lick him clean.  In another photo, a third girl puts a manÕs 
penis between graham crackers and nibbles away at him.  
         ÒDouble DatingÓ (page 204) features two slave girls getting ready 
for their first whipping.  They are both nude.  They take a nap in bed 
together, waiting for their master to come home from work.  As the sun 
sets, they both get up out of bed, pin up their hair, and get into a bath tub 
together.  Watch as they carefully scrub each other, smiling and laughing, 
proud to have such a wonderful master who will totally dominate both of 
them.  See them both check each other to make sure that theyÕre both 
perfectly spotless, for only the most perfect girls get to have the man 
who is their master.  Enjoy the sight of them both drying each other, 
gazing at each otherÕs nude bodies and blushing at how their fair, lovely 
skin will soon be covered with the marks made by their masterÕs whip.  
Drool over them casually unpinning each otherÕs hair and blow-drying it, 
their legs open, revealing their slits, making each other look utterly 
perfect for their master.
         Then, on the last page, see both girls as they tie each other up, so 
that their master wonÕt have to trouble himself with the task of 
restraining them when he arrives.
         Whoops!  I guess I flubbed my description of that last page.  In fact, 
what you actually see is both girls getting dressed.  They put on clothes 
and go out.  In the final shot you see them walking outdoors, both of them 
dressed, wearing sunglasses.  I guess theyÕre off to some feminist 
convention, where theyÕll learn about menÕs evil desires and the glory of 
being lesbians.  Oh well....
         This is a very great issue.  I cheated a little in describing it.  
ÒTongue TrioÓ actually features two dildos, not just one.  And the Ôlast 
pageÕ of ÒDouble DatingÓ, where the girls get dressed, is actually several 
pages long.  But I found I could describe better what was going on by 
consolidating things.
         Buy this issue!  There are many other pictorials in it, each featuring 
a girl by herself.  I have only described the pictorials that feature more 
than one person, because those were my favorite.  I consider the best 
pictorials in this issue to be Art.  They are so great, and done so well, that 
you canÕt really classify them as mere pornography.
         Last but not least, I should mention an ad in this issue.  It is a phone 
sex ad.  You might never see it, even if you buy this issue, unless I mention 
it, because this issue is so jam-packed with great pictorials.  The phone 
sex company that is advertised is called ÒThe Yearbook.Ó  Their ad appears 
on pages 159, 160, and 161.  Their ad is a collection of small photos, each 
one showing a different girl.  Many of the girls are wonderfully young.  In 
addition to being young, many of the girls are quite pretty.  Under each 
photo of a bona-fide teenage girl is provocative wording, such as:
         ÒHigh school hineyÓ,  ÒRear end recessÓ,  ÒI need some guidanceÓ, 
ÒHelp me get to know my bodyÓ, ÒRipe and innocentÓ, ÒMy first time from 
behindÓ, ÒFeel me up after schoolÓ, and ÒIÕm home alone, wanna play?Ó
         What a great ad!  ÒThe YearbookÓ should get an award for this ad.  IÕm 
tempted to xerox it and mail it to every feminist in America, not to 
mention right-wing Christians, politicians, parents, the PTA, and every 
other person or group whoÕs turned America into what it is today:  a 
sterile police state.  
         When you get right down to it, thereÕs only one thing thatÕs 
important on this planet.  ItÕs even more important than this issue of 
CHERI, and itÕs definitely *not* women, the government, civil society, or 
law and order.  ItÕs.............
         girls!  And as PBSÕs Ann Taylor Fleming so aptly put it, ÒThe younger 
the better.Ó  A girl is only going to get older, so you donÕt ever have to 
worry about her being Òtoo young.Ó  ThatÕs like saying a car is Òtoo new.Ó  
Sure, she might not be ready to fuck, but that doesnÕt mean you shouldnÕt 
have her in your life.  What could be more fun than having a girl who is 
young and fresh, and just learning about the world?  You get to see 
everything new through her eyes.  And if thereÕs things you yourself 
havenÕt learned yet, you get to learn them with her, the two of you 
learning together.
         I donÕt know if ÒThe YearbookÓ is a quality phone sex company or not, 
but they sure know how to make a great advertisement!

                                             AND IN THE END...

                                       PROTECT THE CHILDREN?

         ÒThe number of Iraqi babies who die before they are one [year old] 
has more than tripled since sanctions began.Ó

- The Economist, April 25, 1998, pg. 45.

         (This is a siege, one of the most inhumane forms of warfare.  To 
think that the United States of America, at the end of the 20th century, 
has resorted to siege warfare is shocking.  - h.j.)


-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
  copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 372 EMISSION
 
                                       PROTECT THE CHILDREN?

         ÒAmerica has one of the worldÕs highest abortion rates.Ó

- The Economist, May 16, 1998, Review pg. 12.