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STOP THE SMUT !
Holy JoeÕs Plan to Clean Up America
by holy joe
Yesterday I was sitting in the hospital. (No, it wasnÕt a mental
hospital.) There was a mother nearby, and she had a 7-year-old daughter.
They had a big fight. The fight was over whether or not the daughter could
look at TIME magazine.
ÒThereÕs nothing bad in it, mommie!Ó the daughter insisted, avidly
perusing the magazineÕs pages as fast as she could.
ÒAll magazines have something bad in them,Ó the mother replied.
She forced her daughter to stop reading TIME.
Such a pity it is, when a mother must use force on her daughter, to
keep her from browsing magazines in a hospitalÕs waiting room! As Larry
Flint himself has boasted, ÒStarr...has Ôdone what I could not do in a
quarter-century: make pornography more widely available.ÕÓ (TIME,
October 19, 1998, pg. 58.)
What to do?
Actually, the answer is simple. What America needs is the very
thing it once had. A king.
Have you heard this phrase? ÒThe king can do no wrong.Ó
ThereÕs a reason for the phrase. It means that, no matter what the
king does, no Òspecial prosecutorÓ can flood the land with smut, polluting
the minds of our precious children, in an attempt to depose him.
So, America needs a king. Of course, the question arises, who shall
be king? Obviously we wouldnÕt want the guy at McDonaldÕs to be king.
Unemployment is at an all-time low. If he became king, there might be no
one to stand in the drive-thru window! And of course we wouldnÕt want
your sonÕs soccer coach to be king. Who, then, would coach him? And so it
goes for policemen, and engineers, and doctors.
Now in my case, in regards to this dilemma, I happen to be in a
highly fortuitous position. Despite employment being at record levels, I
myself am unemployed! Admittedly, I do ÔemployÕ myself by going around
digging in peopleÕs garbage for aluminum cans. But given that some guy
shot at me last week, I suppose that sort of ÔemploymentÕ isnÕt
particularly valued.
Now I want to assure you that, if I were made King of America, I
would conduct myself according to the highest principles. Already I am
doing research on this subject, to see what the job of King entails. Let us
open our Holy Bible to the book of Esther for guidance:
ÒLet there be sought out for your majesty beautiful young virgins;
let your majesty appoint commissioners in every province of your kingdom
to assemble all these beautiful young virgins and bring them to the...
capital. ...The girl who is most acceptable to the king shall become
queen.Ó (Esther 2: 2-4.)
Of course. The job of a King, above all, is to choose a queen. Fair
enough. IÕm sure it will be tough to pick one, given how many beautiful
girls there are in America, but I assure you that, since the Bible requires
it, I will do it.
Now I realize that since most American girls are no longer virgins
after the age of 13, you may have some misgivings regarding all this.
Imagine how the White House will get beat up, with lots of girls under the
age of 12 running around in it all day! Again, we can find the solution in
our Holy Bible.
In Esther, chapter two, we read that Òmany girlsÓ are brought to the
capital. There they are placed under the care of a eunuch. He provides
each girl with cosmetics and an allowance of food. Also, each girl
receives training in how to be a proper young lady:
ÒSix monthsÕ treatment with oil of myrrh, and six monthsÕ with
perfumes and cosmetics.Ó (Esther 2: 12.)
So in fact your tax dollars would not be wasted, repairing damage to
the White House by rambunctious young girls. Instead, your money would
go toward training these girls in the essential arts every female must
know in any event: how to wear make up and nice clothes, and be pretty.
In the meantime, I will be assiduously performing my duties as your
king, setting about choosing a queen. We read in our Holy Bible that it was
King AhasuerusÕ job to sleep with a different virgin every night. This was
so he would be sure to pick the very best girl to be queen. Although it was
an arduous task (especially since each girl was cherry), every night King
Ahasuerus fucked a different girl!
Rest assured, America, I am up to the job! Although it would be
harder to de-virginate your daughter than to simply jack off, I am willing
to exert myself, if it will help our country be a better place. No longer
will you have to worry about your daughter getting her hands on TIME.
Instead, she will be in our nationÕs capital, in the company of other girls
her age and under the watchful eye of a eunuch, all in accordance with the
infallible word of God as contained in our Holy Bible.
Amazing, isnÕt it? All we really needed to do was return to the old-
fashioned values: a King, and a Bible-based lifestyle. I hope you will
cross off all the candidates on your ballot this fall, when you vote, and
instead, write my name in big letters across the top.
Still undecided? Consider this: who are the two noisiest groups in
America? The fundamentalist Christians, and the feminists. But with me
as king, living in the White House according to the Bible, the Christians
will at last be happy. And the feminists will be happy too. They will at
last have federally funded day-care, and for Ôgirls onlyÕ to boot!
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
Issue No. 412
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
PassionÕs Playpen
Chapter Nine
There would be a metal pail beneath KateÕs breasts and when she
failed to produce milk she would be punished. Then, the Sultan had
assured Ben, he would impregnate her, and nine months later Kate, like all
the rest of the girls in the barn, would indeed express milk into the metal
buckets, once theyÕd birthed new children for the Sultan.
ÒBring me women who are ready for fucking,Ó the Sultan had told
Ben, and Ben had agreed. Yet now he had a small delicate girl kneeling
before him, with adorable big bosoms but looking like she should be at
home doing her homework, under her fatherÕs watchful eye. Ben gritted
his teeth and cursed himself for asking Kate to his penthouse. He felt
certain the Sultan would reject her and refuse to do business with him. In
frustration Ben vowed to make Kate pay for what sheÕd gotten him into.
SheÕd been so flirtingly dressed and so daring and sexy, heÕd fallen for her
instead of picking the right female that the Sultan would be sure to take.
ÒSheÕll need to be tied,Ó Ben snapped at his slavewoman. As he
watched her move quickly, he thanked himself for being wise enough to
keep her on his premises. She was in actuality a deeply fiery, tough and
disciplined young woman, whoÕd joined the Marines but been discharged by
them after they found her too hard to handle. Since then sheÕd settled
down a little, enough to hold a steady job, provided it interested her. And
she liked helping him run his penthouse. She liked seeing the girls come in
all fresh and giddy, and leave all worn out and sleepy and walking with an
awkward gait. And she liked seeing the young men, handsome and sure of
themselves, full of vigor, only to leave so exhausted they could barely
stand, but smiling, and vowing to return again after theyÕd recovered. Ben
marvelled at how meek and mild his slavewoman could make herself. She
took a pair of handcuffs down from a shelf, choosing fur-lined ones though
he knew she longed inside to see Kate bound in raw steel cuffs, without
any protection. Quietly his slavewoman, Gilda by name, approached Kate
and took her wrists between her fingers, holding KateÕs slender wrists
delicately as if they were fine china. Gilda drew KateÕs wrists forward to
the bedÕs headboard and wrapped the cuffs around a post in the middle of
the headboard. She locked KateÕs hands in the cuffs. She asked Kate to tug
on the cuffs to make sure she was unable to escape. Kate gulped and
complied, Gilda watched meekly, as if afraid Kate might hurt herself,
pulling on the cuffs with her small wrists bound inside them.
Gilda wasnÕt really BenÕs slave, of course. He paid her handsomely to
perform her duties. When they occasionally had sex, real sex, on their own
time, she always insisted on making Ben her slave. She forced him to beg
and crawl like a dog and she insisted on putting painful clamps on his
nipples. She liked trapping his penis and balls in a latex jock strap that
left him no room at all. When he was sweaty with need and couldnÕt stand
being penned in anymore, she would cut his dick free with a sharp knife,
ruining the latex jock and always running the risk of depriving him of his
manhood. Then she would ride him with an awesome power. When she was
finished with him he would be so drained that he wouldnÕt even notice that
his balls were still trapped inside the jock. TheyÕd be so depleted it was
as if they didnÕt exist anymore.
As Gilda bent over the bed, working with Kate, her skirt rose up in
back, showing Ben the underside of her bottom. She had a perfect ass and
it spread its cheeks for him as she bent over the bed. Ben felt a sudden
need to spill and he barely restrained his seed. Gilda had no panties on.
Her sex was visible to him, between her close-pressed legs, and he longed
to thumb open her cheeks and see her hiney-hole. Gilda kissed KateÕs
cheek and told her not to worry and then stood upright again. Reaching
behind herself, she drew down and straightened her dress. The sight of
her restoring herself made Ben want to shoot all over again, and he had to
bite the inside of his cheek to keep from doing it.
ÒHer legs... do her legs also,Ó Ben told Gilda. ÒBut open them first
with a spreader bar so I can admire her holes.Ó
ÒYes, master,Ó Gilda said quietly. He saw her face, so placid, so
obedient, and grinned at her perfect submission. She gave no hint of her
true nature. She went to the shelf on the wall and fetched a spreader bar
and two ankle cuffs, with chain link leads to secure them to the bedÕs
baseboard. Returning to Kate, Gilda forced her knees apart. Ben watched
again as GildaÕs skirt scooted up, showing her ass to him.
Kate seemed a little resistant at having herself spread so wide and
Gilda was forced to slap her bottom to make her comply. The handprint
faded quickly. Gilda had not hit her hard. Kate twisted her head round and
watched as Gilda wrapped each of her ankles in straps. Then Gilda
attached KateÕs ankles to the base of the bed. She put a spreader bar
between KateÕs legs to keep her from closing herself. Ben stared at KateÕs
marvelous bottom and hoped he could make money off her. He hated
training women and housewives. Girls were much more fun, but the Sultan
was a picky fat toad and might reject her for being too girlish. Her
bottom was obviously tight and Ben knew that would be a problem. He
would have to break her in with a series of dildos, until she could accept
the really big dildos that the Sultan liked. Again Ben cursed himself for
choosing such a small girl. It would take a lot of work to get this slight-
bodied little female with her Junior High ass to take what the Sultan
expected her to.
ÒGive her a drink to make it easier for her,Ó Ben ordered Gilda. He
saw Kate blanch but he said nothing to her. He would need to cane her
hard, harder even than he wished, to make her ready for the butt-
blistering punishments that he knew the Sultan liked doling out to his
slaves. In the barn, she would be punished daily for refusing to give milk.
Each day a slim-bodied model would sit down beside her and pump her big,
full breasts, but the Sultan would be disappointed when he saw no milk
come out. Then heÕd beat her. Looking at Kate, Ben knew instinctively that
she wouldnÕt be made pregnant right away, after the first failure of her
breasts to give milk. At least, if he were the Sultan, he wouldnÕt make her
pregnant after just one failed milking. HeÕd punish her bottom for months,
at least. Ben felt himself almost on the verge of spending again. His mind
was awhirl with how heÕd have to train this small girl and make her ready
for the Sultan, and with what the Sultan would do to her once he got her.
Would that fat old toad really impregnate this girl upon her arrival? Or
would he keep her as a cow-pet, as Ben certainly would, trying her breasts
every day to see if they had any milk for him? Ben longed to be the Sultan
himself. How splendid it would be to live in a big Victorian mansion,
surrounded by trees in the vastness of the Arabian desert where no one
could interfere, ever, with his playthings. HeÕd awaken to the soft touches
of New York models and sport with his big-busted centerfold girls in the
barn, making them behave like cows and never impregnating any of them,
for he liked them too much as they were, unmarried girls. But he knew
that after no more than a month, at most, the Sultan would force Kate into
motherhood and make her pregnant with his Arab seed. She would bear a
son for him, or perhaps a daughter, the daughter to be made to conform to
Arab purity in a chador while Kate herself, the mother, lay nude in the
barn, perhaps pregnant again with another child for her Sultan master.
Ben hated himself for selling her but he owed too many people too much
money not to. He could wind up dead in an alley somewhere if he didnÕt
come up with the needed money soon. A younger man might have played
the hero and challenged the odds by saving Kate from her fate. But Ben
was just mature enough to value his own skin above that of any nubile
college girl, no matter how perfect her bottom and her breasts, and how
lovely her face.
COMIC REVIEW
by holy joe
The Man with the Cape, No. 4, $2.00. Digest. Pink cover, 30 pages. Brian
Kirk, Moot Comics, 93 Sunapee Street, Springfield, MA 01108. E-mail:
mootcomics@aol.com Web: http://www.the-
spa.com/bear/moothome.htm
Review: Moot City, imperiled yet again!
This time, the threat is in the form of a large man who wears a hard
hat. His name is ÒPummelÓ. He likes to break things. Buildings, mostly.
He carves a swath of destruction through the city as he (unwittingly)
makes his way toward the building occupied by Òthe Man with the CapeÓ.
Perhaps you remember Marvel Comics. These days, comics
apparently donÕt sell too well. But at one time young males regaled
themselves with stories of titanic battles between super-heroes and
super-villains.
ÒThe Man with the Cape,Ó of course, is a Ôtake-offÕ on those stories.
If you liked them, or enjoy small press comics, you might like this issue.
Generally, Brian does mini-comics. This issue was an attempt to do
a full-sized comic. It never was manufactured as a full-size comic,
however, because Brian didnÕt have the money.
My advice to Brian is: ÒDonÕt waste your money.Ó This issue would
not have sold well if it was made into a full-sized comic. The art is nice,
but the story is poor.
Where does this comic go wrong? It gets off to a good start. The
first few pages, where ÒPummelÓ is wrecking the city, are fun. But then
an old man is turned into a Ôsuper-villainÕ, not very convincingly. After
that, the story begins to fall apart. You get the feeling that Brian was
just trying to fill pages, in order to make his tale long enough to warrant
a full-sized format.
Please, Brian. Stick to doing eight-page minicomics. Eight pages,
with a funny ending. ItÕs too bad thereÕs no way to distribute minicomics
to comic book retailers, but that format is the one in which you do your
best work. Trying to do a long comic is just a waste.
IÕd say more, but this review is boring me as much as this comic
book did.
Frayed Page Soaked in Rain
by Will Dockery
In the beginning with this road fever,
silver rose for a brief gaudy hour,
on the peaks with this frayed page,
we parked at the graveyard.
Mugged out summer night,
Cody at the wheel,
SweatinÕ on the road, in this cool scene.
on the moonlit avenue.
Raw, exotic artistry,
illiterate poetics at dawn,
remember her head on my lap.
Platonic blow job, just making things go right.
This is my extra special double album of myth.
These are the poems, archetypes of my life.
We spent the summer nights, naked, crazy, ceiling fans.
In the rain at dark, freshly mowed grass on our feet.
The night is somehow chilly for June,
out of town, out in the pines.
AND IN THE END...
Your Faithful Wife
ÒIn parts of Liverpool, England, blood tests showed that 1 in 4
kids had a biological father other than the father of record.Ó
- TIME, October 19, 1998, pg. 130.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-----Back issues (and stories): http://www.dejanews.com/
Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen.
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-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 412 EMISSION
Bible quotes from The Revised English Bible, Oxford University
Press, 1989.