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Fuck Decency BANNED by PoetÕs Market !
Today I went to the bookstore. I didnÕt go there to buy porn. I went
there to ogle a teenage girl who works there. She has a perfect body, an
(almost) perfect face, and big tits.
Unfortunately, I couldnÕt find her. As I was admiring one of several
13-year-old girls wandering through the bookstore, I noticed PoetÕs
Market. The new 1999 edition.
Guess what? After many years of appearing in that publication, I am
no longer in it! I have been removed from it, against my will. Of course,
nobody at WriterÕs Digest Books told me about this. Heck, if I hadnÕt gone
to the bookstore to find a big-bosomed clerk, and not found her, and been
admiring 13-year-old girls instead, I wouldnÕt have even known about it!
I have no idea why WriterÕs Digest Books chose to censor me from
their 1999 PoetÕs Market. All I ever did was provide steady, reliable,
professional publication to AmericaÕs poets. In fact, I think IÕve published
more poems in the past year in Fuck Decency than any of the other zines
listed in PoetÕs Market! Plus, I provided quick publication, most of the
time, and almost every poet who submitted to me got published!
I could understand if someone had accused me of misconduct of some
kind. But nobody ever did. It is amazing to me how, here in the Òland of
the freeÓ one can be so mistreated simply for oneÕs point of view! For
instance, if you take a look at the PoetÕs Market 1999, there is a big
section listing all the feminist publications. Where are the pedophile
publications?! I mean, if PoetÕs Market is going to list every radical
feminist rag under the sun, youÕd think that they could list something
representing an alternative point of view.
As you know, Playboy, Penthouse, and Hustler have routinely run
articles over the years condemning so-called ÒpedophilesÓ, Òsexual
predatorsÓ, and Òchild molestersÓ. These are terms which, in the view of
Fuck Decency, are little more than Òcrap wordsÓ invented by feminists to
control and dominate men.
It is my hope that, one day, Fuck Decency will no longer be merely a
text zine, but a full-color magazine, available at your local bookstore and
featuring nude females! Then you will (finally) be able to purchase and
read a ÒmenÕs magazineÓ that represents a truly MALE perspective, and is
not published by pussy-whipped sissies!
(Who knows? It might even get banned!)
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 401
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Seven
Kate was taken into the living room. There, standing on a plush rug,
she was shown a wide collection of rare antiques by Melinda. John
snapped pictures of Kate examining the old relics. Kate inspected a pair
of ivory candlesticks, to fragile to ever hold real candles again. She
touched a sword from the middle ages, sharp on both of its sides. She was
careful not to cut her fingers on its sharp blade. She found herself
enthralled by a Jade sculpture of a Japanese maiden. Next to it was a
dwarf tree, carefully cropped to keep it small despite its advanced age,
Òat least 200 years,Ó Melinda assured her.
Kate was shown MelindaÕs fine china. Examining a cup, Kate found
herself standing next to the living roomÕs fireplace. It had a stone hearth.
Suddenly, as Melinda lectured Kate on the age of the cup and its frail
delicacy, Kate looked at John with his insidious camera. Out of spite, she
dropped the cup. It shattered on the hearth. Melinda shrieked. Then,
quieting with a strange brooding satisfied kind of quiet, Melinda looked
from Kate to John.
ÒYou may continue your photographing if you wish,Ó Melinda told
John. ÒBut IÕm going to make our friend here pay for the cup.Ó
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó Kate mumbled. But she knew she wasnÕt and she
wondered if the buzzing of her hungry little pussy had made her
misbehave. John captured another shot of her, his penis stiffly erect, as
she allowed Melinda to take her hand and guide her away from the shards
of the shattered cup to the other side of the room. Melinda unlocked and
opened the front door and pushed Kate outside.
Kate found herself standing on the stone porch again. The night was
still. The moon had set. Kate noticed that the porch was wet. Someone
had washed it off for them. In the cold night air Melinda came out on the
porch, behind her, and forced Kate down the front steps. Kate found
herself pushed from the concrete walkway that led up to the porch into
the front yardÕs dewy grass. She didnÕt like getting her feet wet but there
was nothing she could do, for Melinda followed her closely, pushing her
ahead until they approached an old tree standing in the middle of the lawn.
All about the front yard stood a forest of pines. TheyÕd been cleared from
the yard but they stood just beyond it, staring down with their heavy dew-
laden branches. There was not a sound in the forest. Kate felt like Gretel,
come to the candied house of the witch to be eaten.
Hanging from the tree, the single tree permitted in JohnÕs yard, was
a noose. Kate saw it and flinched with horror. The noose hung from a
branch of the tree. It was a stout branch, big enough to hold the entire
weight of a girl like Kate. She was pushed under the branch by Melinda and
then, with Melinda grabbing her arms from behind, she was made to reach
up into the noose itself. Melinda bound her wrists with it so that Kate
couldnÕt do anything but stand helplessly under the tree. Kate balanced on
her tip toes. She was stung up so that her heels could not longer touch the
grass.
Melinda, as it turned out, had slipped into high heels on her way out
the front door. Kate noticed this as she turned her head pleadingly to
Melinda to be released from the noose. Fear knotted itself in KateÕs
tummy as she saw that Melinda held a pair of steel clippers in her hand.
But instead of cutting off KateÕs nipples, as Kate momentarily feared,
Melinda cut a slim branch from the tree. Kate realized she was strung up
under a birch tree. She wiggled her bottom and tried to free herself from
the noose. John came around in front of her and snapped her picture as she
watched Melinda stalk round behind her, swinging the freshly cut birch. It
sliced cooly through the night air. It seemed to ache for something to
strike.
Kate heard a womanÕs voice cry out in the night. For a moment she
fancied it was her own, but nobody had touched her, she realized, after a
moment, tensing her bare bottom and feeling it respond in the stillness of
the night air. Suddenly she saw a dog bounding across the lawn. A
womanÕs voice called to it. Kate realized Eunice was calling the dog, but
it failed to obey. It ran up to Kate and sniffed KateÕs huddling
bottomcheeks. Kate yelped. She tightened her bottom, but felt quite
helpless, for it still bulbed out behind her like a big moon, asking for
whatever attention it got.
The dog raised itself on its hind legs and tried to mount Kate.
ÒSpot! Bad dog! Down!Ó Melinda said to the dog. Perhaps out of
courtesy for a fellow female, she gave the male dog a hard cut with her
birch. He dropped to all four of his legs, yelping a little and surprised, but
undissuaded. He ran round in front of Kate and sniffed at her bush and
immediately mounted her thigh, standing erect and rubbing himself
against it. Melinda swatted him again with her birch. He dropped down
but circled Kate excitedly, dying to spend on her. Eunice came bustling up.
Her stockings could be heard as her thighs rubbed together. She grabbed
the dogÕs collar and led him away from Kate.
ÒOpen your legs. The dogÕs gone,Ó Melinda told Kate. The blonde felt
afraid and kept them tightly together.
ÒDo as she says,Ó John told Kate. His voice was stern, not at all the
laughing voice sheÕd grown accustomed to. ÒI want to photograph you
being whipped by her. Do it now!Ó John barked.
Kate opened herself to MelindaÕs gaze. Her fig could just be seen,
hiding up between her legs. John, in a less sanguine mood now, perhaps
because of his aching cock, gave himself a few quick, fisting strokes
before resuming his photography.
ÒAre you ready?Ó Kate heard. She was going to tell Melinda ÔNo,
certainly not!Õ but then she realized Melinda had asked John, not her.
ÒYeah, I have enough film,Ó John answered, checking his camera.
Melinda swiped the branch in low and struck Kate right across her
incurving bottomcheeks, where they swept back under her to meet her
thighs.
ÒNo!Ó Kate cried. She screamed at the stars in the dark cloudless
night but all she heard in response was the swaying of the trees, and a
bark from Spot as Eunice led him away.
Amidst flashes from JohnÕs camera Kate was made to suffer under
the birch. She cried and wept and pleaded, and John caught her every
gasping cry and begging imprecation. He photographed her as her tears
sprung from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. He photographed her as
she closed her thighs together and squeezed her bottom and tried to
protect herself, only to be bitten more deeply by the birch and forced to
show her private in all its openness again.
When Kate had been well-marked by the birch, John memorializing
her damaged fanny in a series of flashes, she was forcibly fucked. Eunice
brought out a dildo and Melinda, standing behind Kate, made Kate take the
whole thing up her cunt. Then, with it wet from her own juices, Melinda
introduced the dildo anew to Kate, making her take it up her wounded
bottom. John forced himself into KateÕs pussy as she was violated from
behind. Kate had never been double-fucked. She found it almost
unbearable, like two massive flagposts going up her at once. Eunice
snapped photos for JohnÕs collection.
When John had spent himself in Kate, he withdrew and let Melinda
take her down. He went inside with Eunice. Kate followed a little later,
Melinda guiding her across the grass. Melinda tutted over how the dew
made KateÕs feet wet and promised to bathe them for her when they were
inside.
Chapter Eight
After being used so cruelly out under the birch tree, strung up by her
wrists with her boobs swaying like ripe fruit in front of her while her ass
was stung endlessly by the birch, Kate wanted nothing more than to go
home. She cried to herself, stumbling in the wet, dew-laden grass as
Melinda led her back into JohnÕs house. Oh, how could he have been so
inconsiderate of her? Kate asked herself. SheÕd contemplated a more
romantic encounter than simply being tied up and fucked, and, worse,
whipped by his mistress. Melinda had struck her with the hand of a
jealous woman. KateÕs bottom was burning like the sun and amidst the
overall feeling of fire there were deeper, whip-thin scars of heat, blazing
away on her chubby cheeks. Kate knew those must be weals, or near-
weals, and theyÕd take days to heal. She wanted to reach behind herself to
feel if her skin had been broken, but she didnÕt have the nerve. Instead she
sobbed into her palm while her other hand was dragged forward by
Melinda, who led her back up the stone porch and in through JohnÕs
imposing front door. Its square wooden frame received her like the maw
of Hell, KateÕs bottom impelled forward by its burning into what she knew
must be more ferocious tortures inside.
Yet, within, inside the seeming safety of the house, KateÕs bottom
turned out to be a new source of delight for John. He photographed her as
she came tripping inside. Kate was led into a room where a massage table
had been set up. It was modern-looking, like an examination table in a
doctorÕs office. Kate saw that a clean fresh white towel had been thrown
over it for her comfort.
ÒUp on the table, dear. We must attend to your bottom right away,Ó
Melinda said in a conspiratorial voice to Kate. Eunice stood near the table.
She viewed Kate with the air of a British household servant, an adherent
of the commonsense view of life, who, though dutiful, looked upon the
lifestyle of her rich masters with dubious disapproval. Nonetheless she
stood beside a night table cluttered with phials, apparently all specially
prepared just for Kate.
Kate was grasped from behind by John. He took her by the ribs so as
not to further injure her bottom. He lifted her bodily. For a moment Kate
was held aloft by him, her feet merely dangling beneath her. Then he
plopped her face down on the table. The soft towel received her. Kate felt
her nipples, still stiff from the cold outdoors, prick against the cotton of
the towel.
ÒSpread your legs,Ó Melinda told Kate.
CLINTON APOLOGIZES (again!)
ÒIÕm sorry, mommie, even though IÕm not. And I promise never to do
it again, even though I probably will. And I would never have told the truth
to the American people, except I got caught. And please forgive me, even
though IÕve never forgiven anyone and have taken every opportunity to
condemn my fellow man for the purpose of political gain.
ÒAnd, furthermore, Ken Starr probably doesnÕt even have a penis, so
whoÕs he to talk anyway?Ó
(keep it up, Bill. thereÕs three people in rural Alaska who havenÕt
heard you apologize yet. - h.j.)
bitter warm morning
by Will Dockery
It is becoming clear,
answers from the past,
when I wasn't looking,
when I thought this was real.
So tired of being known,
twisted, torn, held up for ridicule,
also forgotten.
Hard to forget,
when I had faith in your heart,
when I never really lost hope.
The breeze blows,
through this bitter warm morning,
the sun makes shadows,
dark in the heat.
There will never be an answer,
I see I'll never know.
I hear your voice,
dreamed of your new address.
I'm going down,
sinking deeper through darkness,
on this hot september morning.
Down, down,
desperately twitching inside,
but it's only fading embers.
AND IN THE END...
OUR INNOCENT CHILDREN
ÒKids at the age of seven and eight are forever doing little kinky,
polymorphously perverse things -- voyeurism, exhibitionism, cross
dressing, anal and oral experimentation.Ó
- TIME, August 24, 1998, pg. 66.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key.
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
Find the box labelled ÒMain ArchiveÓ.
Change ÒMain ArchiveÓ to ÒComplete ArchiveÓ.
Next, do you see a blank box labelled ÒPower SearchÓ ?
Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen
that has ÒPower SearchÓ written next to it.
Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box).
-Other providers:
Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com
- NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over
a decade, itÕs AlessandraÕs Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY
10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102.
Phone: 1-212-807-8578; 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.
-Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan
-END OF 401 EMISSION