T.O.I.L.E.T. 2 kiddie clitties NND
Andrew Roller
Andrew Roller Presents
holy joe in
The Man from T.O.I.L.E.T.
(That Offensive Illegal Lecherous Execrable sTranger)
Issue No. 2
BECOME A STAR WARS MILLIONAIRE !
by yoda joe
No, T.O.I.L.E.T. hasn’t sold out. What I have done is call the
Star Wars hotline, after receiving a brochure in my mailbox. Also,
being someone who doesn’t have a girlfriend, I also read the brochure.
Particularly the back of the brochure, at the bottom, where there is a
lot of fine print.
I have found a loophole in the Star Wars brochure. It only
applies to people who live in Alabama, but that’s how loopholes work.
Let’s say you’re a bum in Alabama. Let’s say your name is P.P.
Wilson. How can you become a Star Wars millionaire?
Well, according to the Star Wars brochure, “In AL only, get 3
free official Game Medallions by request in-store per visit. All visits
to same KFC [Kentucky Fried Chicken], Pizza Hut, or Taco Bell location
within 2 hours constitute single visit.”
Now, what does that mean, in plain english?
Well, if I were P.P., here’s what I would do.
I would wake up. (This is important.)
I would take a bath. (This is almost as important.)
I would go to the nearest Goodwill store and buy a shirt and a
pair of shoes. (This is fairly important too, even in Alabama.)
Oh, yeah. Buy a pair of pants too, P.P.
NOW, walk to the nearest restaurant. (I know you can’t afford
to eat there, but go anyway.) Pick one of these restaurants: Kentucky
Fried Chicken, Pizza Hut, or Taco Bell.
Walk in. (Don’t beg for money first, outside the door.) Walk
up to the counter. Say to the clerk, “Excuse me. I would like to
receive my three free game medallions.”
Next, walk to the next restaurant. Get three more free game
medallions.
Next, walk to the next restaurant. Get three more free game
medallions.
Depending on how many Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizza Hut, and
Taco Bell restaurants there are in your city, you could wind up with a
LOT of free game medallions! If nothing else, you can save them for a
decade or so and then sell them to nerds at a comic convention.
If you don’t live in Alabama, call this number:
1-888-234-8226. (Unfortunately you will only get three free game
medallions if you do that, and you can only do it once.)
You may be wondering why I am helping out George Lucas by
promoting his game. The reason is this: inside the Star Wars brochure
I got in the mail, there was a free game medallion. Guess who was
pictured on the medallion? Twelve-year-old Natalie Portman !!!!
(For a cute 12-year-old girl, I’ll do anything.)
Before I drop the subject of Star Wars, allow me to contribute
a tasteless joke to the Star Wars phenomenon.
“How did Natalie Portman get her last name?”
She was walking down the street, trying to think up a stage
name for herself, and a guy saw her and said,
“I’d like to stick my dick in her port, man!”
Natalie thought it was pretty cool that a mature, older guy
liked her. So she chose “Portman” as her stage name.
---------------------------------------------------------------
NAKED girls and more at:
http://www.AlessandraSmile.com
---------------------------------------------------------------
Now, after that educational essay by me, it is time for an
inspiring story:
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
kiddie clitties
Chapter One
“Sally, we *fuck* at those parties,” Eveline told me bluntly.
My fingers found my spot and I couldn’t help diddling it.
“Ooooh! I want to!” I cried. (Though, in truth, I think I was a little
confused at what I wanted just then.)
Eveline snapped her whip against the ground. The sound made me
shiver and nearly leap into the air. I strained up on my toes. My
fingers strained within my panties. Eveline reached out and grasped
both my wrists with the long fingers of her hand and pulled them
stickily out of my panties.
“Don’t be a baby,” she admonished. I blushed. I wiped my
fingers against my bare thighs. I felt a need within my slit that
burned to be satisfied. My panties had a wet spot in the crotch.
Looking at me, Eveline let her own hand go to the front of her
hotpants. She unbuttoned the top button, but she was deep in thought
and I think she didn’t even know what she was doing.
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll let you join. But don’t think
you’re going to be special or anything, even if you are my niece. You
have to find a friend to bring along, so there will be two of you, the
same age, to lean on and give each other confidence. I’ll be too busy
to give you anything more than cursory guidance.”
“Oh, thank you!” I cried. I threw myself against her, my pussy
still buzzing, knowing she was excited too at what we’d agreed on. I
felt my bare belly rubbing against hers. Though I was shorter, I stood
on tip toe, and she I think bent her knees a little to receive me as I
threw myself upon her.
Eveline stroked my blonde hair. It was like finespun gold, a
long delicate mane, though pulled at the moment into twin little-girl
pigtails to keep it from being mussed as I slept. I liked my hair. It
was long, like Barbie’s, and lots of people said I looked like her,
especially since my breasts had appeared.
“You can thank me more helpfully than by just hugging me,”
Eveline told me. “I need your bottom for target practise.”
“No!” I cried. But instead of letting go of her I hugged her
tighter.
“Don’t worry, we’ll do it indoors, in your bedroom,” Eveline
said. “Out of the dirt. And I’ll wash off the whip before I use it.”
“Ohhhh, please don’t!” I pleaded. But I hugged her tightly,
until she finally had to take me by my pigtails and pull on them to get
me off her. Then, taking my hand, she led me from the barn. Pepper
whinnied to me as we left.
“Bye, Pepper,” I said, turning and looking at my favorite
horse. I think he mounted Downy when we left.
The wind lifted my nightgown again. It was noon now, but I
hardly noticed, for I was walking beside Eveline. She’d restored her
top just outside the barn. It was loosely tied, like before. Her
breasts threatened to bounce from the cups as we walked. She didn’t
realize that she’d unbuttoned the top button of her hot pants and they
hung low on her hips. I could see her bikini panties within, where the
hot pants sagged down to reveal them. She walked with a proud stride
across the grass, her legs clad in knee-length riding boots of the
finest leather. I hurried along beside her, my feet bare in the grass,
my nightgown uplifted to show my belly and the thin pair of panties I
wore. Eveline’s long whip trailed in the grass, snake-like, slithering
along behind us.
Next to the back door there was a puddle of fresh rainwater,
slowly evaporating in the summer heat. It had rained last night,
putting me to sleep. Now Eveline pointed to the puddle and told me to
splash my feet in them to clean them. When I had, she stepped into the
puddle, so that the soles of her boots would be clean. Then she
splashed her whip in the puddle, flicking it in the water so it looked
like a water snake. When she lifted it from the puddle, dripping with
water, we both ran our hands along the whip to clean them.
“It feels, like a penis,” I said, breathlessly. It was
thickest at the handle and then tapered slowly down its length until it
was very thin at the tip, where the tassel was.
“Have you ever felt a penis?” Eveline asked me. The sun was
hot on our bodies.
“No,” I breathed.
“Penises have a strange shape,” Eveline said. “They are a
thick shaft, elongated when the man is excited but shrivelled quite
small when he’s not. Near the head the shaft briefly tapers inward,
then, just when you might think it’s tapering down to a more manageable
size, it flares out into a big, bulbous head. Of course, wherever the
man wishes to stick himself, the head, which is biggest, must go in
first, which seems quite impractical to me, given that a girl must get
used to a penis. You’d think God would have made a man’s penis like a
whip, thickest at the base, and smallest at the tip. But no, it’s just
the other way round.”
“mmmmm,” I hummed, listening. I wanted to stick my fingers in
my panties again but they were wet from the puddle-water.
“Let’s go inside,” Eveline said. I bit my lip but let her take
my hand. Together we mounted the back steps and went into the house.
“Upstairs,” Eveline told me. “Go to your bedroom and get on your bed,
like you’re going to sleep, or take a nap. But put your head in your
pillow and kneel, with your bottom up in the air. I’ll be up in a
minute.”
“Eveline!” I said disconsolately.
“It is important that you prove to me you can obey me if you’re
going to go to my parties,” she said. We were in the kitchen. She went
over to a cabinet and opened it. “Go on!” she said. “I’ve seen you
take naps in the afternoon, when uncle asks you to go out and feed the
horses. You have no problem getting in bed then, so that your indulgent
uncle makes me feed the horses instead. Of course, you don’t mind
riding them...”
I pouted and darted from the kitchen. I heard the cabinet door
bang shut. She was right, of course. The last week I’d done almost no
chores at all, and uncle had said it was okay, that I was a guest, and
so Eveline had to do my chores instead. I felt sorry for her and for
myself and as I speculated on why I’d been so bad, I went upstairs to my
bedroom. I stood and looked at myself in my mirror. I liked my new
breasts, but I hated them too, because they made me much more noticed by
all the boys (and even men!) than I’d ever been before. I untied my
pigtails.
Eveline walked into the room. She was carrying her whip and a
small black satchel. “Did I say to primp?” she asked. “Get in bed!
Auntie and Uncle might come home any minute, and I know you aren’t going
to be quiet like you should be!”
“Ohhhh!” I cried. I didn’t want to go through with it now.
But I got on my bed. It was still unmade. Eveline noticed, tutted.
She placed the satchel on top of my dresser and unzipped it. She took
out a bottle of vinegar. I guessed she’d gotten it from the kitchen.
She unscrewed the top. I smelt the pungent tang of the vinegar. She
drew a rag from the satchel. It was white, like cotton. She wet a rag
with the vinegar, then wiped it along the length of her whip.
“It will sting better with vinegar on it,” she explained.
Poutingly I put my head in my pillow and raised my ass. I felt my
nightgown slip down from my waist. It gathered around my breasts.
“Plus, in the accidental event that I should draw blood, it will be
sanitary,” she said.
“Oh, please Eveline, I’m sorry I didn’t do my chores and I do
want to go to your parties but...” I protested.
“With or without?” she asked simply.
“Hmmm?” I queried.
“With panties or without,” she said. She advanced toward the
bed, putting the open bottle of vinegar and the rag on my dresser,
holding only her whip. She reached behind her back. Awkwardly she
untied the drawstring of her bra that looped around her back. The cups,
loosed, fell from the prominence of her breasts to lie in the space
between them. Then she reached up behind her neck and untied the
drawstring there. Her bra fell away, leaving her breasts nude and
uncovered. They joggled a little in their newfound freedom and rose and
fell with her breaths.
“With panties, of course!” I said.
Eveline reached out, and caught the back of my panties and
yanked them down. “Then you must do it without, since you wish the
opposite,” she said. I felt a cool rush of air on my bottom and
worriedly flexed my hinds. I was going to rise up, but suddenly I felt
quite saucy. I wiggled my bare ass at her and said, impishly, “What if
I cut a fart?”
Eveline stepped back. “Try to be good and not yell too
loudly,” she said.
I felt bolder, in my new condition. I’d never showed a girl my
bottom before. Eveline was seven years my senior and it seemed okay,
somehow, to tease her with my naked ass. I’d never have done such a
thing to my friend Tabitha but with an older girl it seemed delightfully
silly and naughty.
“What if I cut a fart?” I asked again, giggling. Like Touche
Turtle I proffered my ass, as if it were his little sword, and I seemed
to wish to joust with her. “What if I cut a fart?” I said again, and
was giggling quite hard now, uncontrollably so.
Eveline simply looked at me, sizing me up. She took the pad
with vinegar on it and ran it over her whip again, down the entire
length of it, soaking the cord with the pad. Then she re-dipped the pad
in the bottle of vinegar, drew it out dripping, and wet her whip yet
again. All this time I was giggling loudly and brandishing my bare ass
at her as if I was Supergirl and her whip couldn’t hurt me in the least.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I said finally, feeling quite daring. “Whip
me on my heinie so I can go to your parties and steal all your men!”
Sassily I gyrated my bare bottom around, feeling my tight cheeks as they
rubbed back and forth against each other, loving the bittersweet touch
of my pussy lips. I was naked, save for my nightgown wreathed around my
boobs, and my panties ringing my thighs. Naked and wanting and randy,
loving my nudity and how easily I could tease her about the chores I’d
skipped, and how I might swipe all her boyfriends. “Whip me, Eveline!”
I cried, giggling. “Whip me hard!”
SWIIIIIIICK! Suddenly, without warning, without even putting
down the pad of vinegar, which might have inspired me to leap from my
bed, Eveline gave me my first stroke. It slashed across my rump and
imparted a deep stinging to it. That was no mere touch of the tassel!
That was a full-blown stroke, meant not to kiss my bottom demurely but
to teach me a lesson!
“Yoo hoo hoo! Not THAT hard!” I cried.
Looking Over The Bridge (Built In 1936)
by Will Dockery
Freefloating ashes
down slowly to the creek
to the gunky dirty sewer creek.
On a cigarette pack
I write these words
with an ancient pencil
maybe sent down from God
because my pen is lost.
The sky's a murky pea soup
but it will not rain
there is no rain in this town
those were different times.
The city is overcast
by bright grey translucent shadows
as I ride brother Dave's bike
stop on this bridge for a smoke.
I don't necessarily want to go
I have to go.
Cigarette butt falls down quickly
with a blur
a swirling flourish
then slowly moves downstream.
What year was this bridge built?
Seems so ancient
I must remember to check the date on it
when I leave it.
-Will Dockery 5-5-99
AND IN THE END...
A TIP from holy joe
If you sit near the bathroom in a restaurant, you can see all
the little girls going to and from the bathroom.
-------------------------- T.O.I.L.E.T. ------------------------
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copyright 1999 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Looking Over The
Bridge (Built In 1936) is copyright 1999 by Will Dockery.
-Official Newsletter, Temple of T.O.I.L.E.T.
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-END OF 2 EMISSION
Will Dockery
> ---------------------------------------------------------------
<snipped for brevity>
Looking Over The Bridge (Built In 1936)
by Will Dockery
to the gunky dirty sewer creek.
On a cigarette pack
I write these words
with an ancient pencil
maybe sent down from God
because my pen is lost.
The sky's a murky pea soup
but it will not rain
there is no rain in this town
those were different times.
The city is overcast
by bright grey translucent shadows
I don't necessarily want to go
I have to go.
Cigarette butt falls down quickly
with a blur
a swirling flourish
then slowly moves downstream.
What year was this bridge built?
Seems so ancient
I must remember to check the date on it
when I leave it.
-Will Dockery 5-5-99
> copyright 1999 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Looking Over The
> Bridge (Built In 1936) is copyright 1999 by Will Dockery.
> -Official Newsletter, Temple of T.O.I.L.E.T.
> - Visit me: http://home.earthlink.net/~roller666/index.html
> -END OF 2 EMISSION
Will Dockery
3:00:00 AM UTC-4:
Will Dockery
From the Usenet archives, May 1999.