---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
SEXUALLY CONFUSED?
Dear holy joe - IÕm confused, and curious too. I canÕt decide if IÕm
straight, gay, both straight and gay, or in love with something like
cybernetic, inanimate objects. Can you help?
Dear Confused - Of course I can help. ThatÕs why IÕm here. I have
found just the thing to solve your crisis of identity. It is:
Lost in Space, Classic TV Postcard Book, $9.99. Postcard-sized. Many
thick, glossy pages. Color and black-and-white photos throughout.
Published by HarperPrism. ISBN: 0-06-105583-2.
Review: The Space Family Robinson provides an excellent way for
you to determine which sorts of people appeal to you most: Men, women,
boys or (lest I forget) little girls. ThereÕs even a robot, in case youÕre one
of those people who gets a hard-on programming computers.
IÕll toss a coin to decide where to begin: heads, females; tails
females. Ah, tails! We shall begin with the Space Family RobinsonÕs
(female) bottoms!
Ooops! ThereÕs no pictures of bottoms in this booklet. Well, letÕs
soldier on anyway, and do our best. I shall invite a boner-fide psychiatrist
to comment on the following females:
Mrs. Robinson: If you lust for her, you are a sick, perverted
individual. You probably lurk around old folksÕ homes. Who in GodÕs name
could like this wrinkled old lady? Just thinking of fucking this hag makes
me want to vomit.
Judy: You are a man in search of a blow-job. Is there an intern
working in your office? Please warn her of your intentions. Keep your
zipper up, and DONÕT drop anything in front of her. SheÕll probably bend
down to pick it up for you, and you know very well what will happen if she
does that!
Penny: Congratulations! You have a healthy interest in your fellow
human beings. Little Penny will be more than happy to accompany you
wherever you go, and to tell you all her hopes, dreams, and desires. If
youÕre lucky, she might even change into her bikini for you. (No photos
available of that, alas!)
While Penny is still pretty in the later episodes of Lost in Space,
itÕs the early episodes where her beauty really shines! Be sure to check
out the postcard in this book where sheÕs holding a big, blue flower-
shaped umbrella. Although the other postcards of her in this book are
nice, that one is absolutely ravishing!
Well, there you have it! Each person in the Space Family Robinson
analyzed for you from the perspective of a licensed psychotic. I hope you
can now understand your identity and act upon it.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 379
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Four
The gay men had been shown out by Bess. All was quiet in the back
yard. Before the girls loomed the barn. Kate imagined she smelled animal
smells as she and Cindy bumped up against the barnÕs wooden door. Trent,
striding forward, naked as a buck in the woods and with his cock only
temporarily out of commission, lifted up the heavy wooden bar that kept
the barn closed. He pushed open the door. The girls saw darkness within.
Fearing rats, or mice, they were nonetheless shoved inside by Trent and
they went bawling into the smells of hay and captive beasts.
Marie lit an oil lamp and the girls suddenly drew in their breath.
Kate shrieked. Before them, stabled quite securely, were not beasts but
men. There were five of them. Each was secured to a post of his own. The
men were big and strapping and strong but their arms and legs were pulled
back and chained. The post held each man as surely as if he were a turkey
waiting for the axe, or a steer in a slaughterhouse.
Kate stared dumbfounded at the erotic sight before her. Each man
stood with his feet pulled apart, showing his genitals. Just his toes
touched the hay under his feet. Looking more closely, she saw that some
sympathetic soul had wedged wood under each manÕs heel, and she
wondered how long theyÕd been chained here. The men grimaced at her.
Their arms were drawn back, manacled tightly, two with their hands
pulled back at waist level and three with their hands fixed high, but
yanked back so that their hands were held near the back of the sturdy post.
Each post was broad and wide, supporting the barn right up to the
ceiling, and holding each man captive as well, for no other post could have
restrained such big and powerful men as these. Each was a sight unto
himself. Each rivalled Trent in beauty and grandeur. Broad shoulders
merged into powerful chests, flat stomachs were met by slim waists and
tree-trunk like thighs. But, blushing, forgetting to cry, which sheÕd done
so freely just outside the barn door, Kate found herself looking most of all
at the men where their legs joined. Each man was young and he showed his
vigor and strength by an erection that jolted upright at her entry, as if
awakened. The men stared at her and at Cindy, and at Marie sometimes,
but only as if to look at a mother, afraid she might scold them. Otherwise
their eyes lingered over Kate and Cindy, gawking at their soft curves and
the evidence of their play with TrentÕs cock in the breakfast room,
smeared all stickily over their bellies.
Immediately Cindy stuck a finger into her nest and began
masturbating herself. Kate, afraid to do the same, relented after just a
moment of thought (or non-thought, merely a reflex of conscience) and
fingered herself just as eagerly as her friend. With her other hand,
babylike, for she was on auto-pilot now, standing naked before these big
men, Kate stuck a finger into her mouth and sucked it.
ÒGood morning, boys!Ó Marie called out happily. The men could not
answer. The only item of clothing they wore was a gag, each fitted with
one over his mouth so that he couldnÕt cry out. ÒI believe weÕve woken up
our horses,Ó Marie laughed. ÒMy how they stand to attention whenever I
enter!Ó
ÒThis is obscene!Ó Trent said. His voice was gruff and he sounded
unhappy.
ÒThis is my stable, dear boy, and you are going to be bound up just
like the rest, for you are my favorite one of all!Ó Marie laughed. Before
Trent knew what was upon him a hulking shadow had appeared behind him.
It seized him. Marie kept her eye on Kate and Cindy lest the girls try to
run. Cindy, though, had legs weak with fear and KateÕs chains kept her
imprisoned.
Looking at the huge man in coveralls who had grabbed Trent, Kate
heard Cindy breathe, ÒThe gardener!Ó And she guessed, correctly, that it
was the very man who had cut daisies for CindyÕs garland. Now he showed
his manly side, hefting Trent up like a sack of flour. He was ugly and
there was dirt on his trousers. He lifted Trent with ease, carrying the
man kicking through the barn to an empty post that stood waiting. He
reminded Kate of the Cyclops grabbing Odysseus. The seafarer had been
strong as any man, but heÕd been no match for a giant.
Marie laughed as she watched Trent struggle. ÒItÕs quite hopeless,
my dear boy,Ó she called out. ÒHe has the IQ of a 60 watt bulb but the
strength of a team of bulls. Let him chain you or when heÕs done cutting
the bushes heÕll come and shear your bush as well!Ó
Marie drove the girls in front of her, hitting Kate and Cindy lightly
on their thighs with her many-thonged cat. The blows were light, but the
girls knew they were in trouble already and Marie had an eager hand. They
walked as quick as they could, despite their weak knees and KateÕs chains.
They approached the post where the gardener was binding Trent.
Hoping that perhaps it was all a game, Trent relented a little. Kate
saw his penis rise anew as the gardner spread him open and fastened him
to the post in front of Marie. Kate wished her lover would not find himself
aroused by being made MarieÕs prisoner.
ÒTrent! Please!Ó Kate begged in a hushed voice, lest she offend
Marie, who heard her anyway for Kate was standing right in front of the
woman. Trent stared right past his love and directly at Marie. She stood
just a little behind and between both girls, naked except for her black
leather boots and her matching gloves and her unsatisfied cunt. She had
taken off the dildo inside the house and Trent seemed eager to plunge his
newly awakened rod into her pussy. Marie responded by thrusting out her
cunny at him. She placed her hands on her hips and watched as her eyes
dueled with TrentÕs. His stare darted from her face to her genitals and her
staring eyes did the same.
ÒGod, how quickly you recover,Ó Marie complimented Trent. He
tugged at his bonds and found that his momentÕs admiration of Marie had
left him quite well trussed up. The gardener stepped back. All TrentÕs
limbs except his hard-on were completely restrained. Kate shivered as
she looked at him. Never had she seen such an erotic sight. Her own lover
completely at her mercy, if only she could beat Marie to him! His balls
swung lightly between his legs. They looked mostly empty but Kate knew
they would rise again soon. She wanted to rush forward and coax them up
with her hand and then suck upon his stamen cock until he spurted fresh
sperm into her mouth.
But it was no use. Marie had other plans for the girls. She reminded
them of her presence by a quick slash across their bare thighs. ÒCome,
girls,Ó she beckoned. ÒItÕs time to attend to your bottoms!Ó
With her long, healthy legs, still lightly tanned from her late autumn
pool sunnings, Kate struggled across the barn floor. It had been neatly
swept recently, and had a thin layer of fresh hay sprinkled upon it, but it
was still a dirt floor, and Kate did not like getting the soles of her feet
dirty. She tossed her hair, looking down at her bosoms as they bounced
beneath her chin, merrily innocent of her fate, their nipples perked up so
happily and delicately, as if she might be going to breast feed her baby.
Kate looked at Cindy. Unlike Kate, whoÕd never been pregnant, Cindy was
with child. Yet her bosoms bounced with the same carefree innocence as
KateÕs. The nipples were just as hard. And in feeling the hay and the dirt
beneath her feet, the thought that entered KateÕs mind, strangely, as she
brushed her hair back with both hands from her face, was ÔI hope I donÕt
have to sit down in this dirt.Õ
How odd that the mind and the body would react this way, Kate
thought. Her cunny buzzed, her bottom wanted to stay clean. Her nipples
protruded from her chest. And all around her, watching her progress
across the barn floor, were the men. Six of them, massively built but no
match for the strong posts which held them or the chains which the
gardener, like some extra from a James Bond film, had wrapped around
them. In looking at them, insidiously, for her mind was overwhelmed by
everything she saw, Kate found herself admiring the glint of steel on such
strong, well-formed male chests. And down below, between each manÕs
legs, she saw he was burdened by his lust. His balls bulged with promise,
unfulfilled. Like a sentry, his penis stood ready, stiff and hard and jabbing
at the air.
BOOK REVIEW
by holy joe
Postcards, by E. Annie Proulx, $5.99. Hardbound, 309 pages. Pocket-sized.
Published in Great Britain by Clays Ltd. ISBN: 1-85702-590-3.
(Available on the discount table at Borders Books.)
Review: ÒWoman,Ó said the Greek poet Hipponax, Òbrings two days of
happiness to a man. One when he marries her, the other when he buries
her.Ó
We meet Loyal Blood on his second day of happiness, when he kills
and buries his wife. Then he begins a cross-country trek through 1940Õs
America. I am only up to page 30 of this book, but already I give it my
highest recommendation!
This book is proof that women are good for something, though it is
undoubtedly NOT for living or sleeping with. I have never read a book as
well written as this one. The quality of the authorÕs language is superb.
Also, being a woman author, AnnieÕs verbiage is strewn with hidden sexual
meanings. If you want to read sexy writing from a womanÕs point of view,
this is the book to buy!
Another great thing about this book is that each chapter begins with
a postcard. You read the postcard, which is quite interesting, and wonder:
ÒWhat the Hell does that have to do with anything?Ó By the end of each
chapter you understand what the postcard meant.
If you live in a foreign country, I recommend this book as an
introduction to America. You will get an excellent sense of American
thinking. It is, admittedly, a 1940Õs way of thinking, but by knowing an
earlier, more rural America, you will have laid a basis by which to
understand America in its modern form.
It would be nice if all the women in the world who are busy making a
nuisance of themselves would become writers instead, like E. Annie
Proulx. Then the world would be a better place. And when they died, they
would leave something worthwhile behind, instead of just making the men
in their lives have a happy (second) day.
Tuesday with Little Spain
by Will Dockery
And I am shoved back into this night life,
well she said, she said, she said it was impossible.
There is a place, it smoulders, it is the past, dreamtime,
wander these dark corridors of memory.
I sleep so deep, I donÕt like to sleep,
my dreams threaten to wash me away
Floating in a sea of bad vibes, I do these things over and over,
repentatively, feel regret but keep doing it over and over.
Then the whole thing becomes a blur.
Grey and pasted, patched together with spackling
and sheet rock mud, a disgusted perversion of humanity.
During the decline and fall of poetry, in the summer of sardonic excess,
I sat with Little Spain and felt her softness.
Still a sky poet, though tattered and glowing,
brought down from Blue Territory, no longer in Blue Territory.
I wandered by a cold river in the flaming copper land of summer.
This complete process of remaking we had, your mix of pales & shades,
your, distinctive, mythic self, one distinct sing of your eyes...
I must bitterly understand our fate, we were never meant to be,
like lost in the mirrorÕd rooms of a crazy house.
Crimson on the napkins,
pink fuzz on the clover.
Maneuver to the left, and forward,
into a mud soaked future.
AND IN THE END...
PARADISE FOUND !
(A real-life, legal sign, as shown on the June 18, 1998 NewsHour with
Jim Lehrer:)
INDIAN LAND
PRIVATE PROPERTY
SECURITY ENFORCED
NO: STATE POLICE
NO: F.B.I.
NO: I.R.S.
OR ANY OTHER
AGENCIES.
(I always knew I was 1/8th Indian! - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Back issues (and stories): type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Next,
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
By e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
Via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
- JOIN NAMBLA! Web: http://www.nambla.org
-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 379 EMISSION
Hipponax: The Story of Civilization, by Will and Ariel Durant,
Volume 2, pg. 143.
(You got any cute girls on that Indian land? - h.j.)
(No. Just gottem big fat squaws. --[: (
(Oh shit. Never mind. - h.j.)