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                                            SAVE THE SPERM !

         I can�t believe this country.  What is America coming to?  Is this a 
cruel country, or what?  I mean, take the latest issue of Jump.  It�s the 
magazine �for girls who dare to be real.�  Looking at the models in this 
magazine, I�d say it�s a magazine for girls ages 8 - 13.  
         And what is Jump teaching them?  To be cruel.  To kill.  And not just 
to kill any old thing, no; how to kill sperm!
         Take the article �Sperm Warfare,� on pages 74-75.  It details all the 
different ways to use birth control to kill sperm.  For instance, under a 
photo of condoms, Jump says, �Spermicidal foams, creams or jellies make 
condoms super-effective, but proper usage is the key.  Be sure it�s rolled 
(rim on the outside) all the way down to the base of the penis.  Remember:  
Learning can be half the fun.�  (page 74)
         Has nobody at Jump realized that sperm are alive?  Yes, alive!  
Sperm are living things.  And they are so small, so defenseless.  They get 
spurted out into the world, helplessly, sometimes without warning, and 
now you�re teaching girls how to kill them?!
         You�d think with all the people getting upset over the killing of 
foetuses, Jump would have respect for life much smaller:  little, wiggly 
sperm.  How would you like to be a sperm?  There you are, just sprung to 
life, barely seconds old, and something called �spermicide� is already out 
to kill you!
         It�s time that we have some respect for sperm in this country.  We 
need to have a national �Be Nice to Sperm Day.�  I mean, consider this:  
President Clinton was once a sperm.  Today, he�s the president.  What if 
some spermicide had killed him?  Where would we be then, hmmm?  We 
would still have George Bush as our president, and everyone would still be 
out of a job.
         Girls, just because something is smaller than you doesn�t mean you 
should kill it.  Be nice.  Try to give sperm a warm, cozy place to live.  A 
sperm is sort of like a tadpole, but much smaller.  You wouldn�t be mean to 
a tadpole, would you?
         Hopefully Greenpeace will help us understand that, just as we need 
to protect sperm whales, little sperm need our protection too.

                                      Andrew Roller Presents
                                              FUCK DECENCY

                                   Sponsored by:  Crab the dog

                                              Issue No. 340

                                   Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
                                           Dungeon of Desire

                                               Chapter Two
  
         I sought Miriam�s puckered anus.  I found it and, drawing my breath 
for courage, I penetrated her with my tongue.  She shrieked.  It was a 
happy shriek.  
         �Yes, dear!  Do me!  Suck my asshole and fuck me with your little 
tongue!� Miriam called out.  I would have preferred that she not tell all the 
world what I was doing.  I stabbed her more deeply for that, hoping to 
punish her.  She felt pleasure instead.  She played with her clit as I 
tongued her hole.

         Afterward, my legs undone and my hands free at last, I was 
permitted to rise.  The orgy was over.  Miriam herself helped me up.  I 
looked at her.  We both had guilty faces.  Then I glanced about.  Everyone 
was finished.  They selected among the bikini tops and bottoms on the 
floor for something to wear.  The women looked like they were searching 
for bits of nourishment as they picked their way, bird-like, through the 
detritus of clothing that was scattered about the floor.  The men put their 
trousers and shirts back on.  A new decorum took hold in the crowd.  
Genitals were no longer stared at, and were quickly covered up.  Glancing 
eyes showed modesty.  People did not linger over each other�s figures, but 
comported themselves more like they would at an office, afraid of sexual 
harassment lawsuits.  The girls fitted themselves into the remnants of 
their bikinis as best they could.  Then, the men escorting their lovers out 
into the darkness, they left.  They would escape to their cars in the night.  
Except for the passing of headlights, no one would see them.  It was an 
elegant neighborhood.  A certain boredom, bred in suburbia, ruled the front 
yards and the streets at night here.  Perhaps a policeman would pass, 
perhaps not, going his rounds.  He would deliberately fail to notice the 
torn bra, or the red lines on a half-covered girl�s hiney.  Here, wealth paid 
the Law to keep its distance.
         �You have a beautiful little slave,� Miriam told Sauron, my master.  
He strode up to her to reclaim me.  Katy was beside him, dressed but 
undressed in her fetching bikini.  She wore somebody else�s top.  It was 
made of leather.  One of its zippered bra-cups wouldn�t close all the way 
and I caught a hint of pink nipple within the encircling leather.
         �I would like to train her here,� my Master told Miriam.
         �Certainly sir,� she replied.  �I�m well equipped for whatever you 
desire.  You wish to, um, break her in?� Miriam asked.  Her voice had a 
touch of sadness to it, as if she hated to part with me.
         �Yes,� Sauron said.  His voice was deeper than before.  I sensed he 
was feeling a new excitement already, despite his labors at the orgy.  Katy 
clung to him like a mermaid.  He gazed at me with the eyes of a 
shipwrecked sailor spotting land.
         �There is a room upstairs,� Miriam told my Master.  �It has 
everything you need.  There�s a bath attached.  I�ll have the waiters send 
up food.�  She looked from Sauron to Kelly, then to me.  �Asians make the 
most delicate mistresses, and the harshest,� she told me.  She slapped my 
bottom.  My undies, brought to the party by some other girl, she perhaps 
wearing mine, did little to ward off the blow.  They were soft cotton, thin 
as a condom.  I yelped a little yelp.  Nobody cared.  Sauron took me gruffly 
by my arm and led me off with him.  Katy followed.  She held a pony whip 
in her hand and she let it flick itself along her thigh as she carried it in 
her hand.
         Stairs beckoned.  We trod upward on them.  Sauron led me, walking 
quickly.  Katy followed.  Miriam stayed behind.  I heard her order the two 
waiters to clean up the room.  The party was over.  Now, my true ordeal 
would begin.  

                                              Chapter Three

         Wet with myself and the sperm of the men who insisted on having 
me, I proceeded upstairs with my captors.  Katy kept a finger hooked 
through my dog collar to make sure I didn�t try to escape.  To be honest, I 
thought fervently of it, but I was so scared I had trouble just walking.  
The fact I wore five inch spiked heels didn�t help.  Now I knew why the 
heels had such elaborate ankle straps.  There was no way I could kick them 
off and flee.  The slightest misstep could make me fall.  I�d almost toppled 
over twice while I was dancing.  Somehow, the music, and the sight of the 
other girls, had elevated me on my heels, and let me wear them almost as 
if they were part of my body.  But now, trembling more desperately now 
than I had all night, I could barely put one foot in front of the other.  
Jasmine had promised me that Sauron would be cruel.  But did I want 
cruelty?  I wanted a challenge.  Yes, but not cruelty.  Yet my position was 
hopeless.  I was nude, wet from sex, and tied up in heels and collared.  
Only my earrings swung free, seductively dangling from my earlobes.  But I 
think they merely showed my servitude too, for they resembled small 
penises, I thought, at least in the abstract, and invited glancing men to 
fuck me however they wished.  And then leave me.  
         Yes, they�d all left.  All those handsome guests with their pretty 
wives.  Or lovers.  Whichever, they�d used me and left.  I wanted to go 
home now.  I was finished.  I�d had enough.  But this was no story, no 
movie.  This was a real house on the clifftops above L.A.  �Manned� by a real 
woman, Miriam.  And she�d let Katy and Sauron have me.  How couldn�t she?  
I�d arrived with them.  I�d showed my tacit approval of their dominance by 
letting them bring me in the first place.
         I heard laughter.  Raucous, freewheeling.  It frightened me.  My soft 
tummy tensed.  My tawny, lean legs kicked a little as Katy pushed me 
forward toward my fate.  She pinched my bottom.  Her fingertips were 
hard and her manicured nails bit into my flesh.  I yelped.  
         A man stumbled from a bedroom.  Not ours, no.  Ours would be quiet, 
the bedcovers turned down and waiting, whips hung on the wall, 
slumbering til their next taste of bottomflesh.
         �Oooooh, I want to go home!� I cried, unhappily.  Katy pinched me 
again and I yelped a second time.  
         The man was laughing.  He held a bottle of liquor in his hand and as 
he stumbled out of the bedroom I heard a female scream and a stream of 
white champagne shot out of the open bedroom door.  The man, not seeing 
us yet, took a swig of liquor from the bottle he held.  He seemed 
determined to immerse himself in sin.  He was young, 23 perhaps.  But 
what impressed me most deeply about him was that, despite his nudity, 
wearing just black military socks, he had perched atop his head, giving 
him a regal bearing, an Officer�s hat.  It had a wealth of scrambled eggs on 
its bill and, above that, on the front of the hat itself, a steel naval 
emblem.  As a girl of ten I�d cherished soldiers, and studied all their 
insignia in my mom�s encyclopedia.  And now, apparently, I had the real 
thing here before me.  He was tall and quite handsome, a true officer and a 
gentleman, I thought, despite his drunken revelry.  Had Tailhook moved 
here from the Hilton, seeking less conspicuous digs?  But I sensed there 
were no more than three or four of them altogether, the man plus his 
companions in the bedroom.  And yes, looking down, I did notice his penis.  
It was as long in proportion as he was tall, and thick besides, showing 
itself quite ready for the females celebrating with him in the bedroom.
         I heard a male call out and another female cry, happily, perhaps 
getting fucked by him, but my Officer-soldier did not seem to notice.  
Lowering his liquor bottle from his lips, he�d seen me.
         �Does this young lady wish to go home?� the young Officer asked 
aloud of Sauron and Katy.  It was obvious I had no choice in the matter.  
Like a captive butterfly, I trembled between them, Katy shoving me 
forward, her finger regulating me by my collar, while Sauron led the way.
         �What is it to you?� Sauron snarled.  He was in a bad mood.  He had 
shot all his balls had to give and yet, I think, he longed for more.  He had 
yet to fuck me.  I was wet and available.  A little sore, perhaps, but with 
all the sperm that had been pumped into my by other men there was no 
doubt he could find me quite slick inside.  Yet he was temporarily 
shriveled.  Perhaps the sight of the young Officer�s penis made him 
jealous.
         �I think if the young lady wishes to go home, she should be allowed 
to, that�s all,� the Officer told my captor.
         We stood in the glimmering lamplight of the hallway.  The lamps, 
old-fashioned in style, made, it appeared, of handblown glass, seemed 
reminiscent of an earlier age, of gas lights tended by housemaids and of 
trimmed wicks and and English proprieties.  Had not the great Naval age of 
England once civilized all the world?  And now America, inheriting the 
empire of the very government it had revolted against, ruled the seas in 
place of the English ships.  And here, amidst this lamplight, the prettily 
patterned wallpaper of the walls enclosing us, stood a very dignified 
young fellow, despite the absence of his trousers.
         �Here, look!  Perhaps they were placed here of a purpose!� the young 
Officer said.  He glanced at the wall and there, for decoration alone, I�m 
sure, hung two silver swords.  Perhaps he thought they were just fakes, 
but the young man reached for them anyway, and taking them quickly down 
from the wall, handling them, he saw that they were sharp all along their 
length and pointed.  
         I found a chill running down my spine to my bottomcheeks.  �Put them 
back!� I wanted to shout.  I listened as the young Officer rubbed the swords 
against each other.  There was a sound as of razors being sliced against 
one another.  He looked up.  And to my great unhappiness he said, �Sir, if 
you wish to keep the girl despite Her wishes, then I must challenge you to 
a duel.�
         The young man, despite being obviously American, had a slight 
English accent.  I learned later he�d roomed in Britain for a time.  His 
parents were wealthy and hoped to make a fine Man of him, or at least to 
get him out of their hair by dumping him someplace respectable.  And, 
also, when I learned this, I learned that he�d gone on to the Citadel, being 
too poor in his high school grades to get where he should have gone, into 
the Naval academy at Annapolis.
         �You, sir, are at a slight disadvantage, due to your cock,� Sauron 
grinned.  The boy was hard as the swords and his not inconsiderable penis 
stuck out a good twelve inches from his flat belly.  �Not to mention your 
cockiness.�
         �I am not cocky, just protecting a Lady,� my Officer replied.
         �Toss me a blade, then, fool.  You can spend the rest of your life 
making cheap porn after you�ve sewn yourself back on!� Sauron bellowed.


         �I came across your newsletter in an under-ground music shop out 
in Seattle, WA,� writes echo syzygy.  �I bought the only copy they had.  
Since then, they have never been able to obtain any more of your 
newsletters, saying they weren�t sure how they came across it in the 
first place.
         �I have been involved in writing poetry for five years and have 
just self-published a collection of early poetry under the title of 
�Away...�  I have stacks of rejection letters claiming my work is �too 
dark� or �unusual and gothic.��

                                                   thrash
                                            by echo syzygy 

                          I lay alone under these
                          damp marble walls
                          with you.
                          And I 
                          feel you dripping on me.

                          Push away 
                          from 
                          another
                          blood soaked kiss
                          �I will die tonight�
                          and you feel
                          the weight of
                          my fading stare.
                          And you
                          will grab for my out-reached hands
                          melting them gently
                          upon my silent heart.

                          All is quiet now,
                          above my whitened flesh
                          and you are full
                          of my 
                          rotting
                          blood
                          that spills
                          from your mouth.

                          You bundle warm
                          in my
                          naked soul,
                          rocking 
                          me back and forth
                          and deeper

                          and deeper.

                          My shadow escapes me
                          on the cold
                          marble walls but you
                          have stolen nothing less
                          than the essence
                          of my soul
                          and the 
                          eternity
                          of my pain...

                                             AND IN THE END...

                                      THE GOVT. VS. MICROSOFT

         �The government may... be repeating the mistake it made when it 
once tried to stop Chrysler [from] installing radios in its cars.�

- The Economist, December 20, 1997, pg. 102.


-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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or by e-mail:  file.request@backdrop.com
or via the Web:  http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/

-Free minicomics:  send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to:  Jim
  Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- JOIN the world�s greatest organization!  Send $35.00 to The North
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-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
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  copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder.    
-END OF 340 EMISSION    Celebrate Pedophile Heritage Month!
    

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