If you could only taste my hot, hot pussy, you would not write these things. You would be on my lawn, beating your breast and pulling at your hair, wailing for more.
Rob couldn't have written the parent. Not Rob, who offers to do the dishes for a week if I put his dick in my mouth. Not Rob, whose eyes roll back when I deep-throat him. Not Rob, who some nights is so eager for me to snowball him that he'll go to bed at 8pm or 8:30. Not Rob, who married the three-time Lakes Region Trucker's Choice winner.
Michael is a pretty bland guy. I assume he gives head like he lives his life, which is to say 'badly and without relish'. My post as Dicksucker-in-Chief is safe around Michael.
My Rob's been shooting blanks for at least five years. Hemos and a couple of his friends have vasectomies they got in a heavy bondage session a few years back. RMS can't get it up (don't ask me why I know that). Even Linus' kids aren't his.
On the morning of day 15, the last day of lovely Carolina Porfirio's short
life, I went with my colleagues to its cage and, after unchaining it, made
the whore stand with legs wide apart and hands under its breasts holding
them up and out for us to see. A mirror was placed behind her so we could
see her lovely bottom. Then I told the curvy, pretty teenage girl that I
had decided she would be murdered later that day. She immediately began
screaming and wailing, sank to her knees and crawled forward to kiss my feet
and up my legs to my penis in an endearing bid for mercy. She pood herself
again and lost control of her bladder. Before any pleas for mercy were to
be considered, the lovely child woman was ordered to lick up her disgraceful
mess on the chamber floor.
That morning, while we 'considered' her plea for mercy, she agreed to a
torture hysterectomy. One of my colleagues was a retired doctor who'd
specialised in gynaecology and he led the fun operation. Everyone got a
turn to do some cutting inside Carolina's young body, but the doctor had
control in order to keep the cunt alive for her execution later in the day.
He did so well, I gave him a very expensive bottle of rare wine as a thank
you gift. Especially, as he saved just for me the final exquisite moment
of the poor girl's mutilation, the removal of her uterus and ovaries from
inside her nubile young body, her hopes of having children in a bloody
tangle of bits and pieces of mangled flesh which I pulled from between her
legs and trailed up her body to dangle over her beautiful, sobbing pale
face. As the blood dripped onto her lips and her most intimate sex meat
dangled over the bridge of her nose and in her beautiful blue eyes, Doc went
to work inside cauterizing the wounds to prevent the bitch from bleeding to
death or going into shock. God, that was such a loving and sexual moment,
almost as good as taking the young whore's life itself.
At this time, Carolina thought she had just paid the price for keeping her
useless fucking stupid life. With the bleeding stopped plus some emergency
surgery on what had been her cervix, and pumped full of suppressant drugs,
Carolina was allowed to rest for an hour. Meanwhile, her uterus, ovaries,
vascular tissue from the cervical area, and chunks of flesh from the lining
of her vagina were gently braised on a griddle. When it was cooked enough
to make it tender, we fed Carolina her own internal sex organ piece by
piece. The pretty whore (now only half a woman) was pumped full of
adrenaline and other stimulant drugs. I told her that she could be shown
no mercy, since she was a female sex toy, and a very pretty one at that, and
we would kill her in precisely one hour.
The fucking pretty teenage whore didn't scream and wail at this news.
Instead, she lost all colour and swooned, almost losing consciousness.
Only the drugs in her system prevented the lovetoy from fainting. She
looked as though she knew this was coming but, even so, couldn't believe it
was happening to her, like it was a nightmare from which she would wake up
at any moment. I ordered the cute bitch to walk to the execution chamber.
This was, in fact, just another room in the basement chambers in which we
had set up a wooden platform with a rope noose hanging above it from an
overhead beam. She gasped and cried when I gave her this command but
meekly obeyed. She was made to wiggle her bottom as she walked and to hold
her fat young breasts in her hands. As she entered the chamber, the first
thing she saw was the rope noose which shocked her so much she cried out
again and fell, sobbing uncontrollably, to her knees.
The noose was actually merely for effect. Much as I like hanging, I had
another more interesting, cruel and humiliating death in mind for Carolina.
A swift, hard kick to the filthy slut's kidneys sent her sprawling on the
chamber floor, retching. She was dragged along the floor by her pretty
blonde hair to a wooden frame against the wall and facing the noose.
Carolina was bound to the frame by her wrists and ankles and all we all
gathered round to watch her darling angelic teenage face as I read the
charges to her.
Carolina Porfirio was 19 and part English with an Italian father, hence the
name. She worked as an office girl for a company in the same building where
I rented an office suite for my business in Nice, down the corridor on the
same floor. All that follows happened shortly after I split up with Ginny
Harris and was preparing to leave the Riviera to go to Spain. I was, by this
time, a full member of the Riviera Rape Club and wanted to provide the club
with a bitch we could abuse, torture and sex kill.
I chose Carolina because the young 5'4" cunt was gorgeous (in fact, she was
stunning, a real head turner) and close enough to keep under observation for
a while but far enough not to be connected with me. There was little chance
her disappearance would be linked to me. I kept a watch on her for a couple
of weeks and learned her name, age, that she commuted by train from across
the border in Ventimiglia, Italy (only a 30 minute train ride), had no
boyfriend, and jogged every evening. The jogging would explain the
sexwhore's lovely athletic look. The jogging looked like the best
opportunity to abduct my chosen sexbaby and that's how we got her.
As soon as we had the sexy bottom babe in a safe place (by this I always
mean safe for the abuser, not the victim), we crowded around (there were 8
of us) to fondle Carolina's body still with her clothes on. I think this is
very humiliating for a sex object to be fondled fully dressed. It is like
being raped but with the added fear of knowing it is yet to happen. Then we
ordered her to do a striptease for us. She tried to back away from us,
shaking her pretty head and crying, looking down at the floor and saying
"Nooooo" and "Pleeeeease!" over and over. It took a punch deep in her belly
and a hard brutal kick from behind right in her teenage cunt, which sent her
sprawling and retching on the floor, to change her mind.
It's interesting that even a tracksuit can look gorgeously sexual on an
attractive love object, male or female. Carolina was wearing a powder blue
track with a pale pink stripe over the left shoulder and down the body,
repeated in the trouser part to the ankle. On her small pretty teenage feet
she wore white and bright pink reeboks and dayglow pink cotton anklesocks.
After fondling the 19 year old whoregirl with her clothes on, we made the
babybumsex bitchgirl do a striptease and dirty dance for us. I lied to the
pretty bumbaby, saying that we'd also kidnapped her kid sister (an 11 year
old ugly duckling, quite unlike her delicious big sister) and would kill it
if she didn't perform for us and obey all our commands completely and
immediately, no matter how disgusting and evil she thought them. I told her
to leave the reeboks and the cute little sexy sox on. In fact, the fat
bottom girl Carolina wore them throughout her terrible ordeal, and died with
them on.
Following the dirty dancing, throughout which Carolina cried her lovely blue
eyes out, we made her stand with her hands on her pretty head so we could
all feel and fondle her nude body all over. Then I made the fucking
babysex kneel down so that we could take turns in front of her pretty face.
Each man was allowed to present the teenage whore with either his penis or
his bum, but not both. Most gave her their cocks to lick and kiss, but I
was one of only two presenting her with our big bums, making the lush
childwoman lick up and down our dirty cracks and kissing our bottom holes.
It's hard to describe the feeling of it to someone who hasn't experienced
the wonderful sensation of killing a very sexy looking girl (or boy). I'm
not in the least sorry about doing it. She deserved to be murdered for
being so lovely and sexual, for being a very pretty young female and for
having a gorgeous body. I am sorry only that I've not done it more than
once. There are so many I would love to have killed, girls and boys, women
and children. Among these are my ex-wife Elaine, a number of
ex-girlfriends from my e
On the night before the wedding, I asked the OSDN crew to show me what the real Slashdot effect was like!
Right off the bat I took Rob's cock in my mouth and sucked it like a kid sucks a Sugar Daddy. Hemos came around to my upturned rear and showed me exactly how much damage 4.5" can do to a hometown girl. Jamie was licking Hemos' ass while he fucked me, which put me in a good position to beat his cock until it blew on my love patch.
Then the weirdest thing happened! Timothy went around to Rob's backside and I'm pretty sure he started fucking him! I was a little surprised -- I mean, the night before your wedding is an odd time for your first gay experience. But he seemed to enjoy it, so I gave him one night of experimentation. Eventually I ended up taking the shaft from almost everyone in the building, even the hunky nubian NOC security guard.
Wow! Slashdot me again the next time I get married, boys!!
I can't believe he leaked this story out. I'm going to kill him. He fucks me for the first time in WEEKS, I have to let him fuck me in the ASS to get him to do anything, and then he turns around and puts the story where someone can post it.
...that my Rob didn't get laid last night. He was at a LAN Party with the rest of the VA crew (he called it a "snot party" -- what a kook, huh?;) until early this morning.
My Rob's quite gentle. He usually is on bottom, and he seems happiest remaining almost motionless and letting it happen to him. Hey, we all get off on different things!;)
It's amazing that I even remember after all these weeks...
Umm.. it's sort of an "open secret" around the OSDN offices that those three wouldn't exactly be, umm... interested in my type. Specifically that I lack a Y chromosome.
Last night I confronted Rob about his apparent inability to satisfy me. "Why?" I said, "Why the hell won't you just fuck me once in a while? It's not too much to ask, is it??"
I saw his eyes well up with tears.
Then his pager went off.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said, "trouble in the NOC. I think it's a MySQL issue. I'll be back as soon as I can."
18 hours later, he staggered in, buzzed on cheap beer and smelling like ass.
I don't know what I'm to do. My appeal for outside cock still stands. I need something, ANYTHING, inside me.
So I thought on the adage that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach, and decided to make Rob a nice meal in hopes that he'd respond. I cooked up rack of lamb, and set a candlelight dinner. I even got a $50 bottle of French wine.
What does the bastard do? He comes home, complains about some Slashcode bullshit, and upon seeing the table set and candles lit says "I ate some Jack-In-The-Box on the way home. Oh, shit, I forgot something at work."
It was six hours before he came home again. I am going insane. I need satisfaction! I need a massive cock infusion! Please, if you're reading this and have anything dangling between your legs, come save me!
I tried putting the moves on Rob again last night. He turned away when I tried to kiss him and said "I've gotta go to the bathroom" and fled the room. Two minutes later, I hear that goddamned keyboard clicking away. After a half-hour of waiting, I just went to sleep.
If anyone can help, anyone with a dick, anyone at all, please email me: sarcasta@sarcasta.net.
Someone, please help. I am in dire need of a dick-thrashing and all Rob will do is peck away on that goddamned computer of his. If anyone is willing to fuck me brainless, especially those of you with thick black cocks, get in touch with me at sarcasta@sarcasta.net.
Slashdot Mirror
If you could only taste my hot, hot pussy, you would not write these things. You would be on my lawn, beating your breast and pulling at your hair, wailing for more.
Rob couldn't have written the parent. Not Rob, who offers to do the dishes for a week if I put his dick in my mouth. Not Rob, whose eyes roll back when I deep-throat him. Not Rob, who some nights is so eager for me to snowball him that he'll go to bed at 8pm or 8:30. Not Rob, who married the three-time Lakes Region Trucker's Choice winner.
Michael is a pretty bland guy. I assume he gives head like he lives his life, which is to say 'badly and without relish'. My post as Dicksucker-in-Chief is safe around Michael.
My Rob's been shooting blanks for at least five years. Hemos and a couple of his friends have vasectomies they got in a heavy bondage session a few years back. RMS can't get it up (don't ask me why I know that). Even Linus' kids aren't his.
So what's so fertile about Open Source?
On the morning of day 15, the last day of lovely Carolina Porfirio's short life, I went with my colleagues to its cage and, after unchaining it, made the whore stand with legs wide apart and hands under its breasts holding them up and out for us to see. A mirror was placed behind her so we could see her lovely bottom. Then I told the curvy, pretty teenage girl that I had decided she would be murdered later that day. She immediately began screaming and wailing, sank to her knees and crawled forward to kiss my feet and up my legs to my penis in an endearing bid for mercy. She pood herself again and lost control of her bladder. Before any pleas for mercy were to be considered, the lovely child woman was ordered to lick up her disgraceful mess on the chamber floor.
That morning, while we 'considered' her plea for mercy, she agreed to a torture hysterectomy. One of my colleagues was a retired doctor who'd specialised in gynaecology and he led the fun operation. Everyone got a turn to do some cutting inside Carolina's young body, but the doctor had control in order to keep the cunt alive for her execution later in the day. He did so well, I gave him a very expensive bottle of rare wine as a thank you gift. Especially, as he saved just for me the final exquisite moment of the poor girl's mutilation, the removal of her uterus and ovaries from inside her nubile young body, her hopes of having children in a bloody tangle of bits and pieces of mangled flesh which I pulled from between her legs and trailed up her body to dangle over her beautiful, sobbing pale face. As the blood dripped onto her lips and her most intimate sex meat dangled over the bridge of her nose and in her beautiful blue eyes, Doc went to work inside cauterizing the wounds to prevent the bitch from bleeding to death or going into shock. God, that was such a loving and sexual moment, almost as good as taking the young whore's life itself.
At this time, Carolina thought she had just paid the price for keeping her useless fucking stupid life. With the bleeding stopped plus some emergency surgery on what had been her cervix, and pumped full of suppressant drugs, Carolina was allowed to rest for an hour. Meanwhile, her uterus, ovaries, vascular tissue from the cervical area, and chunks of flesh from the lining of her vagina were gently braised on a griddle. When it was cooked enough to make it tender, we fed Carolina her own internal sex organ piece by piece. The pretty whore (now only half a woman) was pumped full of adrenaline and other stimulant drugs. I told her that she could be shown no mercy, since she was a female sex toy, and a very pretty one at that, and we would kill her in precisely one hour.
The fucking pretty teenage whore didn't scream and wail at this news. Instead, she lost all colour and swooned, almost losing consciousness. Only the drugs in her system prevented the lovetoy from fainting. She looked as though she knew this was coming but, even so, couldn't believe it was happening to her, like it was a nightmare from which she would wake up at any moment. I ordered the cute bitch to walk to the execution chamber. This was, in fact, just another room in the basement chambers in which we had set up a wooden platform with a rope noose hanging above it from an overhead beam. She gasped and cried when I gave her this command but meekly obeyed. She was made to wiggle her bottom as she walked and to hold her fat young breasts in her hands. As she entered the chamber, the first thing she saw was the rope noose which shocked her so much she cried out again and fell, sobbing uncontrollably, to her knees.
The noose was actually merely for effect. Much as I like hanging, I had another more interesting, cruel and humiliating death in mind for Carolina. A swift, hard kick to the filthy slut's kidneys sent her sprawling on the chamber floor, retching. She was dragged along the floor by her pretty blonde hair to a wooden frame against the wall and facing the noose. Carolina was bound to the frame by her wrists and ankles and all we all gathered round to watch her darling angelic teenage face as I read the charges to her.
CLIT FP cockhiders!
Carolina Porfirio was 19 and part English with an Italian father, hence the name. She worked as an office girl for a company in the same building where I rented an office suite for my business in Nice, down the corridor on the same floor. All that follows happened shortly after I split up with Ginny Harris and was preparing to leave the Riviera to go to Spain. I was, by this time, a full member of the Riviera Rape Club and wanted to provide the club with a bitch we could abuse, torture and sex kill.
I chose Carolina because the young 5'4" cunt was gorgeous (in fact, she was stunning, a real head turner) and close enough to keep under observation for a while but far enough not to be connected with me. There was little chance her disappearance would be linked to me. I kept a watch on her for a couple of weeks and learned her name, age, that she commuted by train from across the border in Ventimiglia, Italy (only a 30 minute train ride), had no boyfriend, and jogged every evening. The jogging would explain the sexwhore's lovely athletic look. The jogging looked like the best opportunity to abduct my chosen sexbaby and that's how we got her.
As soon as we had the sexy bottom babe in a safe place (by this I always mean safe for the abuser, not the victim), we crowded around (there were 8 of us) to fondle Carolina's body still with her clothes on. I think this is very humiliating for a sex object to be fondled fully dressed. It is like being raped but with the added fear of knowing it is yet to happen. Then we ordered her to do a striptease for us. She tried to back away from us, shaking her pretty head and crying, looking down at the floor and saying "Nooooo" and "Pleeeeease!" over and over. It took a punch deep in her belly and a hard brutal kick from behind right in her teenage cunt, which sent her sprawling and retching on the floor, to change her mind.
It's interesting that even a tracksuit can look gorgeously sexual on an attractive love object, male or female. Carolina was wearing a powder blue track with a pale pink stripe over the left shoulder and down the body, repeated in the trouser part to the ankle. On her small pretty teenage feet she wore white and bright pink reeboks and dayglow pink cotton anklesocks. After fondling the 19 year old whoregirl with her clothes on, we made the babybumsex bitchgirl do a striptease and dirty dance for us. I lied to the pretty bumbaby, saying that we'd also kidnapped her kid sister (an 11 year old ugly duckling, quite unlike her delicious big sister) and would kill it if she didn't perform for us and obey all our commands completely and immediately, no matter how disgusting and evil she thought them. I told her to leave the reeboks and the cute little sexy sox on. In fact, the fat bottom girl Carolina wore them throughout her terrible ordeal, and died with them on.
Following the dirty dancing, throughout which Carolina cried her lovely blue eyes out, we made her stand with her hands on her pretty head so we could all feel and fondle her nude body all over. Then I made the fucking babysex kneel down so that we could take turns in front of her pretty face.
Each man was allowed to present the teenage whore with either his penis or his bum, but not both. Most gave her their cocks to lick and kiss, but I was one of only two presenting her with our big bums, making the lush childwoman lick up and down our dirty cracks and kissing our bottom holes. It's hard to describe the feeling of it to someone who hasn't experienced the wonderful sensation of killing a very sexy looking girl (or boy). I'm not in the least sorry about doing it. She deserved to be murdered for being so lovely and sexual, for being a very pretty young female and for having a gorgeous body. I am sorry only that I've not done it more than once. There are so many I would love to have killed, girls and boys, women and children. Among these are my ex-wife Elaine, a number of ex-girlfriends from my e
slam my sopping, rancid cunt with your rape wand
choke me too, if it's not too much trouble
On the night before the wedding, I asked the OSDN crew to show me what the real Slashdot effect was like!
Right off the bat I took Rob's cock in my mouth and sucked it like a kid sucks a Sugar Daddy. Hemos came around to my upturned rear and showed me exactly how much damage 4.5" can do to a hometown girl. Jamie was licking Hemos' ass while he fucked me, which put me in a good position to beat his cock until it blew on my love patch.
Then the weirdest thing happened! Timothy went around to Rob's backside and I'm pretty sure he started fucking him! I was a little surprised -- I mean, the night before your wedding is an odd time for your first gay experience. But he seemed to enjoy it, so I gave him one night of experimentation. Eventually I ended up taking the shaft from almost everyone in the building, even the hunky nubian NOC security guard.
Wow! Slashdot me again the next time I get married, boys!!
fp
I can't believe he leaked this story out. I'm going to kill him. He fucks me for the first time in WEEKS, I have to let him fuck me in the ASS to get him to do anything, and then he turns around and puts the story where someone can post it.
I'm sorry guys. This was between me and my Rob.
...that my Rob didn't get laid last night. He was at a LAN Party with the rest of the VA crew (he called it a "snot party" -- what a kook, huh? ;) until early this morning.
Sigh. I could really use a good pop.
Killa Hertz is a cockpumping ANSI queen
Hahahaha oh, I don't think so...
;)
My Rob's quite gentle. He usually is on bottom, and he seems happiest remaining almost motionless and letting it happen to him. Hey, we all get off on different things!
It's amazing that I even remember after all these weeks...
Umm.. it's sort of an "open secret" around the OSDN offices that those three wouldn't exactly be, umm... interested in my type. Specifically that I lack a Y chromosome.
:)
Thankfully Rob is not like that at all
Hey, do I look like I weigh 200lbs to you?
C'mon. I'm a pretty good-looking girl. Certainly not unserviceable. That's one reason I'm so confused.
And about the vibe... I've got a few (six, to be exact). They're just not the same as hard, warm flesh. Especially Rob's....
I am really reaching the end of my rope.
Last night I confronted Rob about his apparent inability to satisfy me. "Why?" I said, "Why the hell won't you just fuck me once in a while? It's not too much to ask, is it??"
I saw his eyes well up with tears.
Then his pager went off.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said, "trouble in the NOC. I think it's a MySQL issue. I'll be back as soon as I can."
18 hours later, he staggered in, buzzed on cheap beer and smelling like ass.
I don't know what I'm to do. My appeal for outside cock still stands. I need something, ANYTHING, inside me.
So I thought on the adage that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach, and decided to make Rob a nice meal in hopes that he'd respond. I cooked up rack of lamb, and set a candlelight dinner. I even got a $50 bottle of French wine.
What does the bastard do? He comes home, complains about some Slashcode bullshit, and upon seeing the table set and candles lit says "I ate some Jack-In-The-Box on the way home. Oh, shit, I forgot something at work."
It was six hours before he came home again. I am going insane. I need satisfaction! I need a massive cock infusion! Please, if you're reading this and have anything dangling between your legs, come save me!
I tried putting the moves on Rob again last night. He turned away when I tried to kiss him and said "I've gotta go to the bathroom" and fled the room. Two minutes later, I hear that goddamned keyboard clicking away. After a half-hour of waiting, I just went to sleep.
If anyone can help, anyone with a dick, anyone at all, please email me: sarcasta@sarcasta.net.
I'm so lonely.
Someone, please help. I am in dire need of a dick-thrashing and all Rob will do is peck away on that goddamned computer of his. If anyone is willing to fuck me brainless, especially those of you with thick black cocks, get in touch with me at sarcasta@sarcasta.net.
Thank you, Slashdot. You're my only hope.