Local Teen Slated to Masturbate Furiously

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Vol 30 Issue 05

Instant Gratification Sped Up

WASHINGTON, DC—Bowing to the demands of the American people, U.S. officials sped up instant gratification yesterday, making wish fulfillment more immediate than ever before. "Although gratification has been instant ever since the early '70s in this country," said William Lawson, chair of the National Gratification Investigatory Committee, "many Americans were still complaining it just wasn't fast enough." According to Lawson, from now on, gratification will actually be faster than instantaneous, occuring some .002 milliseconds before desire is even felt.

Film To Be Made Into John Grisham

OXFORD, MS—According to entertainment industry insiders, Columbia Pictures' 1995 courtroom thriller, The Witness, will soon be made into noted fiction writer John Grisham. The story of a blind boy who hears a racially charged murder take place in a Washington, DC coffee shop, The Witness will become a six-foot-one, 190-pound, best-selling lawyer-turned-author with a penchant for writing gripping page-turners set in the legal world. "We believe this recent box-office smash will make a great Oxford, Mississippi-based author," said David Rudner, Columbia Pictures' spokesperson. "The gripping dialogue and nail-biting trial scenes should have people who meet Grisham on the edge of their seats." The Witness: The Human Being is due out in July of '97.

Area Panties In A Bunch

CROSS PLAINS, GA—According to police, a pair of area panties was discovered yesterday all wound up in a bunch and badly in need of some loosening. "Whoever owned these panties," Cross Plains Police Chief Jonathan Norcross said, "obviously needed to relax. Failure to chill out is the number one reason so many panties get bunched in this country each year." Though the panties investigation is still pending, Norcross denied rumors of a connection between yesterday's incident and a pair of Atlanta-area undies discovered last Sunday in a bundle.

Jews To Celebrate Rosh Hashasha Or Something

JERUSALEM—Jews the world over are preparing to celebrate Rosh Hashanukah or something this weekend, the traditional Jewish holiday marking some sort of rebirth and new beginning, or maybe the Jews' liberation from some foreign ruler 55,000 years ago. "Rash Kishansha is a very holy time for the Jewish people," said Paul Castellano, a guy from Houston whose gastroenterologist is Jewish. "I think Dr. Futterman said it's the holiday where they light that chandelier and blow that horn." Lasting 12 days, Ran Hosea is followed by Yor Kiplach, the Festival of Sand, during which no buttered bread may be eaten in remembrance of the flooding of the ancient Temple of Hosea.

Nike to Cease Manufacturing Products

BEAVERTON, OR—Citing creative confinement and a desire to focus exclusively on what it does best, the Nike Corporation announced Monday it will cease manufacturing athletic shoes and other sports-related merchandise in order to devote itself fully to the creation of state-of-the-art television advertisements.

MTV Launches 'Rock the Census' Campaign

NEW YORK—With four years to go before 2000, MTV is already launching a campaign designed to ensure widespread Generation X participation in the decennial national census survey.

Philip Morris Under Fire

With statistics showing teen smoking greatly on the rise, the federal government is taking aim at tobacco companies, proposing legislation limiting them to text-only ads in youth-oriented publications and banning cigarette billboards near public schools. What do you think?
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Local Teen Slated to Masturbate Furiously

SALEM, IN—In a move designed to relieve several years of pent-up sexual frustration, area teen Jeremy Royce is slated for fever-pitched, white-hot masturbation later this evening.

The masturbation, during which Royce will bring himself to climax through the use of autoerotic manual stimulation, is hoped to provide Royce with a much-needed outlet for the carefully concealed state of sexual arousal in which Royce spends approximately 99.8 percent of his life.

Royce, a sophomore at Brushwood High School in nearby Cedar Creek, is at or near his sexual peak, but has thus far been denied access to the act of sexual coupling due to such socioeconomic factors as parental dependency, uneven adolescent facial complexion and lack of a car.

Despite being what one schoolmate called "a shy, awkward-looking doofboy," Royce's need for sexual activity is very real, and his body, heedless of the pragmatic difficulties of achieving successful coitus, is as relentless in its demands for a constant supply of ejaculatory orgasm as it is in its expectation of food and sleep.

According to reports, tonight's experience promises to be particularly special. Carefully studying this month's HBO guide, Royce has noted that this evening's 3 a.m. movie promises "N, SSC," or Nudity and Strong Sexual Content. The film, the critically acclaimed Atlantic City, features Academy Award-winning actress Susan Sarandon briefly rubbing lemon juice on her nude breasts.

Said Royce, "Oh, man!"

At approximately 10 p.m., Royce, having noticed nothing but the female form during the two hours spent watching television with his family, will make an excuse to retire to bed, claiming he "has a big day ahead of him tomorrow." At 2:45 a.m., unbeknownst to his parents, his alarm will go off, beckoning him to the television to experience as-yet-undreamed-of heights of physical pleasure within Sarandon's video-pixillated bosom.

After carefully covering himself with a blanket, Royce will firmly clasp his rigid penile member and indulge in self-manipulation of a rhythmic, steady nature. The combination of physical and visual stimuli will fool his autonomic nervous system into thinking that actual sex is taking place, enabling Royce to jettison seminal fluids from his body, or "spill."

Though experts say it is possible and often greatly satisfying to extend this form of gratification by postponing orgasm, Royce's inexperience and deep-seated sense of shame will no doubt preclude this.

More likely, his subconscious will become overwhelmed with thousands of dissociated, half-remembered repressed memories of sexual imagery as the floodgates of his id burst open, causing the entire act to be over in a matter of 90 seconds or less.

Royce's elaborate masturbation plans do not surprise his schoolmates.

"That figures," said classmate Tim Jennings, 16. "What a ween! Jeremy Royce is so gay."

Though Jennings' remarks were designed to distance himself from Royce and his self-pleasuring, the fact remains that Jennings himself masturbates at least twice daily, depositing his seed within what he terms "my special blue sock," and has on more than one occasion become erect while visualizing remembered images of male classmates in the locker-room shower.

As a high-school student, Royce is exposed to countless sexually evocative situations every day. His rotating class schedule exposes him to a new group of 15 to 20 teenage girls every 45 minutes, and the four-minute between-class locker break offers him hallway after hallway of an ever-changing, constant display of nubile young womanhood, clad in the latest eye-catching fashions.

Worst of all, Royce's after-school cross-country team, which he joined in hopes of working off some of his sexual longings, has turned out to be co-ed, and the sight of fit, sweaty female classmates in skin-tight, breast- and buttock-hugging Spandex and Lycra is a daily routine for the turgid lad.

"The realization that cross country was co-ed surely brought Jeremy simultaneous fear and joy," said Harvard sociologist Marvin Haller, highlighting the schizophrenic nature of Royce's desire/denial state. "Lisa MacAnaugh's flexing butt cheeks, pumping like pistons under her tights, may be his friend, but they are also his great foe."

Though he hopes to find respite in Sarandon's twin mammarian flesh-globes, Royce's truest fantasies are closer to home.

"My favorite girl in school is Courtney Davenport from my Algebra 2 class," Royce said. "She has these incredible eyes, and she sits across from me so I can always see her legs. When she wears a short skirt, sometimes I can even, just barely, glimpse a tiny triangular section of what my friend's sister's cousin told my friend is Hanes Her Way girls' cotton briefs. And when she's concentrating, like when we do word problems involving sine curves, she bites on the tip of her pencil eraser ever so lightly, and, oh God, oh God."

"Listen, though," Royce added. "Whatever you do, don't print any of this. Okay? Okay? Promise? Ya gotta promise me."

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