{ASS} RP: The Tiny Toy .. 1/3.. by PRED ('nuff said)

[pr...@altavista.net]

PRED fans,
The wait is over. I have finally deigned to publish the most
eagerly-awaited PRED conclusion of all time. For those of you who
didn't read part one, I'm reposting it for your edification. Welcome
to my world. I hope you like the taste of blood.

Anti-Disclaimer: Minors without adults admitted free of charge.

The Tiny Toy is the sole property of PREDATOR Press, Intl.
Comments, questions and death threats please e-mail
PR...@altavista.net.

Dedicated to Beaner, whose unflagging badgering should serve as
inspiration to all PRED fans. Tote that barge, lift that bail, write
that ultracore ..

The Tiny Toy

The Lakeside Trilogy, Volume I

1

Four years ago, I found myself out of work with summer fast
approaching. Coincidentally, Eric, an old friend from high school,
told me about job opportunities with a number of the island resorts
scattered about the Great Lakes. He had found work as a pastry chef
at the Breakers, a combination hotel, golf course, spa, party center
and upscale shopping plaza located on the small peninsula of Lakeside.
By late April, the resort was still short experienced bartenders for
the upcoming tourist season, and after considering my employment
alternatives I decided to drive up to the shore and apply for one of
the open mixologist positions.
I was hired on the spot, and started work several hours later.
My friend was only too happy to let me move into the vacant room of
the three-bedroom apartment he shared with Tony, another Breakers
employee. Two days later, I was completely transplanted into the
Lakeside community, working a straight 40-hour a week gig, 6PM-2AM,
Wednesday through Sunday.
The perks that came with employment at The Breakers were
legendary. As a bartender on the night shift, tip money was
plentiful. Typically, I ended even the slowest nights at least $100
wealthier. On weekends, it was not unheard of to walk off with two or
three times that amount.
Employees also were given free, unlimited access to any of the
complex's ammenties - the beach, golf, squash and tennis courts,
swimming pools, hot tubs, steam rooms, tanning salon, etc. The
upscale shops and eateries also offered Breakers' employees a 25%
discount on all merchandise. In addition, three free cafeteria-style
meals were provided each day in the Employee Recreation Center.
Of course, the most lucrative fringe benefit was one they
never discussed in the job interview - CUNT, hot fresh coed and high
school cunt the likes of which very few men ever experience in life,
much less fantasy. The Breakers only had one hard-and-fast rule when
it came to sex - Employees could not fuck Guests or Patrons. If
anyone was caught breaking or even bending this edict, they were
canned on the spot.
This rule was irrelevant, however, and quickly rendered moot
by the fact that the employees themselves banged each other with such
abandon that no one even had time to think about plugging the guests.
For a man such as myself - tall, tanned, ripped and in my mid-thirties
-- the pickings among the female contingent of the Breakers staff were
lush to say the least.
I was a night bartender, and simply put that meant I was a god
among the mere mortals who worked there. The bartenders themselves
occupied the highest level on the employee food chain. To befriend a
bartender meant drinking for free during your off hours. A night
bartender was an even more exalted position, however, because that's
when all the young cunts came out to play.
Of the 100 or so cunts on the staff, only 10 were over 21, and
this was all snatch that worked at the bar. The other 90-odd cunts
ranged from 14 to 20, and all of them wanted a seat at the bar and a
pitcher of amaretto sours come 9PM. Lounging on the beach every
morning before my shift, I held court as the fresh twats fawned at my
feet. At then end of my second week, I'd bagged seven different
slices in the hours between 10AM and 5PM. I'd take them back to my
apartment, and they'd be willing to do anything for a free pass into
the island's only nightlife. Rumors of my insatiable, nine-inch cock
spread like wildfire. I popped three cherries and busted four new
asses in that first fourteen-day flurry. The youngest cunt had been a
fourteen-year-old juice stand slut who wore a retainer while I played
poke and choke with her tonsils. The oldest was a nineteen-year-old
virgin who shot-gunned ten saki-bombs, then let me jam her tight numb
ass as she hurled in the shitter.
I was scoring left, right and in-between, but even that was
getting old after two weeks. You see, I've never been satisfied with
vanilla or even chocolate sex. Straight fucking, sucking and ass
stretching is all right for your even-Stevens, but I'm a different
breed of cat. Name it - anything! - and I've tasted it, hundreds of
times: kiddies, beasts, scat, piss, phlegm, phleb, s&m with all the
hardware. Before that summer, while I was still prowling the big
city, I'd cruise the 7-11s looking for dumb teen twats trying to score
a case of Busch or a few jugs of Gallo. Always prepared, I'd flash
some herb, crack or smack and take the little cunts out for the party
of their lives.
When they'd awake the next morning hogtied in a puddle of fuck
and piss, their cunts and asses shredded inside out, they never cried
rape. Of course that would be difficult with a cock - human or animal
- stuffed down their throat, but the fact remains. Once a cunt gets
gutted by my Dick of Death, she's a jizz-swilling, cock-zombie for
life. Ask any of the little sluts I've trashed. If they're not too
busy pulling a train for the high school soccer team, they'll tell
you.
After a single night with me, the rest of their worthless
lives are just one, long, fruitless search for a man that's savage and
hung enough to make them feel ANYTHING. My former conquests will let
me whip them raw, use their mouths as toilets and shove cactuses up
their asses for just one MORE ride on my tattooed horse-dick. If you
think I'm bullshitting, then you're either a faggot or you don't know
cunts very well. Nevertheless, that's the way they ALL want it, every
last twat among them. They spend their whole meaningless lives
searching for a real man to fuck their bodies lifeless. That's what
orgasm means in Greek, "little death." Just think about it.
Lakeside's scene was a far cry from what I could score in the
city, though. Sure the veal was fresh and tight, but I couldn't go
fist-fucking the fifteen-year-old juice-stand girl if I wanted to stay
in Lakeside and out of jail all summer. So, I began to get a little
uptight as the weeks wore on. I got bored with fourteen-year-old
blowjobs and 18-year-old assfucks. I mean how the fuck is a guy
supposed to get off if he can't strangle a cunt while he's pounding
her, or put out a cigarette on her tit while he's she's slurping the
diarrhea out of his ass-crack. If I didn't get any ultracore cunt
soon, it was only a matter of time before I started cruising
Lakeside's quiet streets and going Bundy on some bitch's ass.
This was my state of mind that third week when I met Rachel.
I was at the beach, and it was around noon. I was on my fifth bloody
mary when I noticed a troop of staff cunts giggling across the sand.
There were six in all, teenage twats who worked in the Café Orange,
the coffee bar across from the restaurant. One of them, a borderline
anorexic fifteen-year-old named Julie, I'd thrash-fucked behind the
bar's dumpster one night on a smoke break last week. I'd blasted her
bony ass so bad she couldn't even sit back down when she went back
inside. For the rest of the night, she just stood there, sipping her
sea-breeze over the aftertaste of my cum and fooling herself that I'd
even talk to her again.
As the café cunts swished by me, I checked out the rest of the
veal. One girl was fat, with huge tits and a loud mouth. I would
make her my fuck-pig eventually, but I wasn't in the mood for a side
of back bacon that day. So I put her fat ass on the back burner.
Something even more promising had caught my eye.
Her name was Rachel Bernstein. She was sixteen years old, and
her fragile, emaciated body had been shrunken and desiccated with some
kind of bone cancer. She was no more than five-feet tall and lurched
along with leg braces and crutches. Her arms were thin and brittle,
like Popsicle sticks. Splotches of mangy dishwater-blonde hair hung in
clumps from beneath her floppy sun hat. Her pale skin and the dark
circles around her eyes made her look like a Holocaust victim or one
of the mutant vampires from Genesis Man.
Rachel Bernstein was the Breakers mercy hire, the complex's
mascot, the poster child for political correctness in our lily-white
workplace. Despite the fact she could do no real work and contributed
nothing to the resort, she was paid the same as every other summer
employee. Eric had told me the Breakers hired her for morale.
I guess looking at Rachel Bernstein's grotesque, dying body
was supposed to make us all feel better about our own lives and rather
trivial imperfections. Everyone at the Breakers wanted to be Rachel's
friend. Everyone wanted that special friendship with Cancer Girl.
Everyone wanted to talk about how brave she was. Everyone wanted to
delude themselves that they had moved beyond mere pity and loved
Rachel Bernstein as something more than just a symbol of utter pathos.
Everyone but me that is. I wanted to rape that sickly body in
every orifice until it died of terminal orgasm. I wanted to feel
every bone in her skeleton crack beneath the savage sledgehammer of my
dick as I crushed the air, the strength, the very will to live from
her barely-animated corpse.
I guess every real man dreams of giving it to a cunt so good
that she croaks from a cock overdose. I'm not talking
strangle-fucking the snatch, or dicing the slice in flagrante delicto.
Any two-bit Bundy with some duct-tape and a straight razor can pull
that off. I'm talking about literally fucking a woman to death,
marathon-slamming her every gaping orifice until she just cums herself
to death. Imagine raping a stroke or cardiac arrest into some useless
cum dumpster, savoring the death throes as they milk every last ounce
of hot spunk from your swollen balls. I've been told there's no
better ride. But, hell, that's not even the best part.
When they finally find the spent cock socket days later, the
investigators are stymied. They have to pump a gallon of sperm out of
her stomach, womb and colon. Cause of death? The coroner scratches
his head .. Overdose of dick. They DNA-trace the splooge back to you,
bring you before a judge and jury, and you get to say: "Yeah, I fucked
the cunt. I fucked her to death. She died begging me for more of my
dick. She died with my cock stuffed up her ass. Her last words were
"harder." She lived a cock-junkie and died with a hot fix of prick
jabbed deep into her fuck wound. What are you going to convict me of?
Giving the slut too much pleasure?"
Yeah, that would be a trip. Only thing is it's pure fantasy
when you consider the average, run-of-the-mill rape-toys running
around. Your typical young slice is just too fit and strong to be
literally fucked to death. But Rachel Bernstein wasn't your typical
fresh cunt. Rachel Bernstein was the perfect toy, a tiny little
snuff-toy.
I watched the gang of café girls lay down their beach towels
about ten yards down from me. Julie had chosen the spot, trying to
pretend she didn't see me, that she didn't want me to stroll over and
restore some meaning back into her vacuous, vapid existence. She
coyly glanced over the top of her sunglasses, seeking my recognition.
I didn't acknowledge any of them. That's the cool thing about Aviator
shades; no one can see where your eyes are. For all the café cunts
knew, I was asleep in the rays.
After the initial flurry of getting situated and smearing on
tanning lotion, the troop of twats settled into the scene. Julie and
two of the other cunts made a point of standing up every so often and
stretching so that every guy in range could catch an eyeful of their
succulent, jail-bait bods. Although meant for every cock on the
beach, the show was directed towards yours truly. Julie was about as
subtle as a streetwalker trying to come up with the rent. Every time
she stretched or shimmied, she'd sweep her eyes over to my inert form
and bite her lip. Then she'd lean over into some cunt's ear and
whisper something, repeat it so that all the twats could hear, then
guide everyone's eyes back to me. The cunts would giggle, then, gawk,
and then go back to their mindless leisure.
I had little trouble imagining what Julie was telling them.
She was an insecure, self-absorbed, fifteen-year-old twat who measured
her self-worth in grams of body fat and the doting envy of her even
more pathetic friends. She was obviously the queen of her little
clique, her position ensured by fucking the hunky, thirty-two-year-old
night bartender with the already legendary nine-inch horse cock. No
doubt she was telling her little band of admirers how steamy, romantic
and soap-opera wonderful our little trash-dumpster rendezvous had
been. You could rest assured she was editing the story, however,
leaving out all the best parts, like when I made her beg to see my
cock and lick my asshole. Or when I choke-fucked her drooling mouth,
called her "fat whore," and then skewered her anorexic asshole until
my cock was coated in watery turd and blood.
The "fat whore" crack had obviously gotten to Julie, too,
probably precipitating alternate binges of starvation and bulimic
purging. She was even skinnier now than when I honored her with my
prick. I felt my dick grow stiff in my swim trunks now, as I
envisioned her bawling before a mirror, pinching the imaginary folds
of loose skin beneath her rib-cage, and spitting at her "obese"
reflection.
I knew the pitiful cunt would blame her "fatness" for my cold
shoulder. I'd been counting on that when I decided to treat her to my
Grade A manmeat. I got off on the idea that fifteen-year-old Julie
despised and tortured her body because she'd become addicted to my
dick after only one injection. I'd string this little operation along
all summer and see how far I could get her weight and self-esteem to
drop. Who knows? If I played my cards right, maybe I could get her
to slit her wrists or swallow a whole bottle of diet pills. I'd
played this game before with brainless teenage twats, and there's
nothing like watching a pretty piece of veal waste herself away
because you withhold your manhood, which is the only thing in her
worthless life worth living for.
Julie's friendship with Rachel Bernstein now provided me with
an opportunity to bag two birds with one stone. My cock snapped to
its full nine-inches as I projected my scheme into the future. This
would be one of the sweetest scams I ever pulled. I just needed to
create an opening. Given the brainless nature of the cunts involved,
this wouldn't be so hard.
I stood up and brushed the sand off my body. I could feel the
eyes of every café girl affix on my package as I stretched. Fresh
teenage tongues licked pouting teenage lips. Some of the little cunts
couldn't help gasping. I could smell the flood of pubescent pussy
juice from where I stood. I teased them by adjusting my trunks and
allowing my cock to hang down and slap against my thigh, the tip
almost peeking out the hem on my right leg.
I looked right through Julie and the rest of them, then began
my approach. I passed by inches from their drooling mouths, crossed
the sand and headed up to the stairs leading into the Breakers
Beachfront Bar. I smiled at Cathy, the day bartender , and raised my
index finger. She smiled back, mixed me another bloody mary and
walked it over.
"Just the way you like it," she joked. "Tobasco and Vodka ..
with a lime," she added, dropping in a generous green section.
"I need my vitamin C, you know," I quipped.
"Don't look now," she whispered under her breath, "but I think
your fan club has arrived."
I knew what she meant, so I didn't even turn around. I could
hear the cunts' voices chattering above the air conditioning, Julie's
trumping them all. " .. you'll know what I mean SOMEDAY .." she
lectured her peons. "You just have to .. you know .. experience it."
I could hear the swish of all their feet approaching.
Cathy grinned at me and then cocked her attention to the
troop. "And what can I get you girls?" she stressed the word 'girls.'
Cathy was about twenty-five and pretty fed up by now with all the veal
parading around the complex. With all that teen twat on full display,
no one looks at the twenty-something barmaid no matter how tanned and
buff she might be. Cathy happened to be both, and I could tell she
was dying for some dick, especially mine, but with all the fresh slice
around she'd been relegated to warming the bench. The only men that
hit on her were the guests, and they were off limits if she wanted to
stay aboard the Breakers cash cow. So, she bit her lip, stayed on the
sidelines and watched all the teen twats get the nod on gameday. Her
only retribution came behind the bar.
"Umm .. we'll have some screwdrivers," Julie asked with faux
courtesy.
"Okay," Cathy nodded. She reached under the bar and pulled
out a Phillips screwdriver, and offered the tool to Julie. "This
one's on the house."
I chuckled.
Julie was not amused. "Geez, you don't have to BE such a
bitch about it," Julie huffed. "I was only kidding."
Cathy withdrew the screwdriver and smiled pleasantly. "Okay,
then, what'll it be?"
"Club soda .." Julie answered.
"Lime?" Cathy asked.
"Umm .." I could see Julie calculating any possible additional
calories. "Sure .." All the rest of the twats duplicated Julie's
example except for Rachel and the fat girl. They both ordered Cokes;
the fat girl asked for a mix with Grenadine and a cherry. "You know,
Jayme, that's like drinking a slice of German chocolate cake," Julie
observed in an irritated voice as Cathy handed the fat girl her drink.
Fat Jayme sipped the cherry coke and handed it back. "Could I
have some more cherry in there?" she asked. Cathy nodded, topped off
the glass, and passed it back to fat Jayme. Julie rolled her eyes,
and Jayme stuck out her tongue. "I'm pleasingly plump," Jayme
announced proudly. "A lot of guys like a girl with some meat on her."
"Yeah, like maybe circus freaks," Julie shot back.
Jayme just shook her head and sucked the cherry Coke through
her straw. I sipped my bloody mary, nodded to Cathy and made a move
back to the deck.
"Umm .. HI!" Julie beamed at me and bobbed her vacant head.
I turned and pretended I recognized her for the first time.
"Woa .. ahh .. Julie, right ..?" I pointed my finger at her and took
another sip of my drink.
"Uh .. YES?!" she huffed and pouted.
"The other night .." I shook my head slowly as if gradually
recalling the event. "Yeah, okay, cool, now I remember. Yeah .." I
stopped, lowered my Aviators and looked her over. "You look different
.." I faked being puzzled. "Hmm .."
Her eyes grew wide in terror. To an anorexic twat like Julie,
my ambiguous 'different' could only mean one of two things. Either it
was a good 'different', meaning thinner, or a bad 'different' meaning
fatter. The secret was to keep her guessing and never let her know
for sure. That way she'd always err on the side of more starvation.
I'd have her looking like Miss Teenage Treblinka by the end of the
summer. My dick twitched in my trunks, and every cunt noticed it,
even Cathy.
"Umm .. are you working or anything tonight?" Julie stammered,
her confidence visibly shaken.
"Yeah," I answered. "Stop by if you want." I turned to all
the cunts. "All of you. Just got to keep it cool, you know. No
lightweights .."
"Are you serious?" one of the cunts blurted. Julie flashed
her a seriously annoyed look.
"Yeah," I answered, "why the fuck not? This is party summer,
right ..?"
"Honestly, Clarissa," Julie rolled her eyes at the girl.
"Like grow up, okay ..?" The other cunts giggled and Clarissa
withered.
"You're coming, too, aren't you ..?" I asked Rachel directly.
"I mean you can drink, can't you ..?"
The seeming insensitivity of the remark shocked all the cunts,
even shallow Julie. To the uneducated eye it seemed stupid and
boorish. I knew differently, though.
"You know how to make kamikazees?" Rachel suddenly broke the
awkward silence and grinned back.
"Just try me, baby," I shot back. "I'll have you doing
lap-dances by 9 o'clock."
"We'll see about that," her face was positively radiant.
"I gotta warn you, baby," I smirked. "I've been known to get
a girl wrecked and just take advantage of her. So, you'd better watch
yourself."
Cancer Girl turned away and batted her eyes down. Her sickly
pallor was now tinged with crimson. I could smell her diseased pussy
lube from where I stood. Her tiny nipples jutted out like pin-pricks
against her tee-shirt.
"See you girls tonight," I saluted them all and strutted back
out on the deck. I drained my bloody mary and headed home for a nap
before work. I had Cancer Girls in my sites. Now all I had to do was
put her down and bag her.

2

The Breakers Beachfront Bar was already hopping when I got in
at 6PM. On her way out, Cathy caught me at the time clock. "You
know," she smiled, "you really are an enigma, you know that ..?"
"What?" I feigned ignorance.
"You made Rachel's day today, you know," she looked positively
choked up
"Rachel?"
"The girl with cancer .. at the bar this afternoon .."
"Oh, her .." I shook my head. "I still don't know what
you're talking about?"
"She's not used to that," Cathy tried to explain.
"What .."
"Honesty," Cathy replied. "You were maybe a little blunt, but
.. that was very cool."
"I still have no idea what you're talking about."
"Everyone around her pussyfoots around her cancer, pretends
like they don't see it. They treat her differently .. not like a
girl. You were downright crude to her. I bet no guy's ever done that
before, just treated her like a girl .."
"Well, she is a girl," I observed. "I treat you all the
same."
"I know," she seemed genuinely pleased to discover I was a
sexist pig with all cunts, whether they were dying of cancer or not.
"It takes all kinds, I guess .." she shook her head in disbelief,
kissed me quickly on the cheek, then practically ran off.
I smiled. One more tale to add to my legendary status. The
sensitive stud. What a fucking joke. Thank God it wasn't up to cunts
to spread the seed and keep the human race going. They deserve to be
prey.
I walked upstairs and threw myself into the fray. Everyone in
Lakeside was sidling up to the bar. I got in the zone quickly,
managing dozens of orders and simultaneous conversations so that every
goat at the trough believed they were my "different," "special"
customer. I bided my time until 8PM when the veal strolled in.
It was always the same every night. The teens were only
allowed to work up to 7PM, Breakers rules. Then they had wholesome
activities planned. The geeks went to movie night or played in the
Ping-Pong tournament. The cunts went cock teasing, painting up their
faces like whores and showing more underaged flesh than a Jock Sturges
exhibit.
Julie and her troop marched in like they owned the place. In
their minds, they did. They knew the night bartender. He'd invited
them, and he would hook them up. It was time to play grown-up and see
if any of the men in the joint were man enough to put them in their
place.
Julie herself had regained some poise since this afternoon.
No doubt she'd binged on some Hagendaas, and then puked her brains
down a convenient toilet. She was dressed in a tummy shirt and
micro-mini that screamed Rape Me. I wasn't even mildly interested,
though, when I saw my little Cancer Girl.
Rachel had kind of a headband/turban thing going on around her
head. She was wearing jeans and a long tie-dyed tee-shirt. She'd put
on some make-up, too. Not much, just blush and some eye-liner. But
her message was clear. She was feeling like a girl tonight, not a
freak. I'd worked her perfectly. I'd be scoring some tight, bony
cancer cunt by the end of the night. My cock reared up and sniffed
her rape meat when the troop approached the bar.
"Hey .." Julie flashed her eyes at me.
"Yeah, hey .." I looked beyond her to Rachel. "You made it,"
I addressed Cancer Girl directly. "One kamikazee coming up!" I
slapped it together and fired it down the bar at her. The glass
stopped perfectly in front of her (old bartender's trick), and she
clapped. "Suck that down, baby," I smiled at her as I took the orders
from Julie and the rest. "It's party night."
The troop of twat slammed down the sea-breezes and
screwdrivers, and hit me up for another round. Cancer Girl had
already downed her kamikazee by that time, and was finishing her
second one when I got the rest of the cunts their next round. I
pumped them all full of booze until they were sloppy, horny and out of
control. They hit the dance floor like a pack of bitches in heat,
leaving Rachel, on her fifth round, at the bar.
I told Jerry I was taking my first ten-minute break, and
strolled over. "Buzzed yet?" I asked her.
"Getting there," she slurred slightly. She'd had enough booze
to put a baby rhino down. She was oiled and waiting for a piston job.
"You wanna get some air?" I asked. "I'm dying in here." I
brushed my hand over my face. "The smoke .." I explained above the
music. "It gets to me after a few hours."
"You want to take me outside?" she was giddy and terrified.
She knew what happened when the Legend took a young cunt outside on a
cigarette break. Julie and every other piece of veal I'd sampled had
spread the word along with their legs.
"Yeah .. outside," I spoke loud to show her I wasn't
embarrassed.
"Wh .. why would you want to t..take me outside?" she
stammered. Cancer Girl was plowed, but not that plowed. She wasn't
stupid either. She knew what I was going to take, but she just
couldn't believe it. She needed to hear it.
"Get some air," I shouted above the music. "And grab a
smoke."
"I thought the smoke bothered you?" she giggled.
"Their smoke," I countered. "Not mine." I took her hand.
"Come on. I only have ten minutes."
She struggled to her feet, and started hobbling to the back
door on her crutches. I followed behind her and watched her bony ass
and brittle back. As she moved out the door, I placed my hand on her
back and guided her over to the brick wall behind the dumpster.
"See, that's better, isn't it ..?" I laughed, lighting up a
Camel. She nodded quickly and nervously. I took a hit off the smoke
and offered it to her. She shook her head. "Come on," I laughed.
"It ain't like it's going to kill you."
She shot me a weird look, and I shrugged my shoulders,
re-offering the cig. She grinned suddenly and took a puff. She held
the smoke in and then released it slowly.
"You smoke .?" I was surprised.
"My secret vice," she laughed. "Don't tell anyone, okay ..?"
"Who the fuck would care?"
"Everyone," she answered. "I'm supposed to be fighting, you
know .." she mimicked Ali shadowboxing.
"Fuck that," I shook my head and offered her the whole smoke.
She took it and sucked it down while I used her cig to light another.
"Fighting's for losers. I say go out in a blaze of glory .. you know
like Kurt Cobain or Chris Farley. What you do is all that matters,
not how long you do it."
"You know that I'm dying, don't you ..?" She still seemed
like she couldn't believe I was being so cavalier about the whole
thing.
"So am I, baby," I grinned. "One day at a time, just like
everyone else."
"I don't have as many days, though," she blew a smoke ring.
"Big fucking deal," I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean that
sucks, sure, but does it really ..? I mean isn't it all how you look
at it?" She looked at me with stony silence, waiting to hear what
came out of my mouth next. "Listen, life is filled with down time. I
spend every day counting the hours til I get off work. I wish I could
just take all the time I spend working and sleeping and just hack it
right out, you know ..? Just give it back to God or whatever, and say
'take it, I don't fucking want it. I have no need for it. Just leave
me the good stuff like fucking and eating and watching movies.' I
wish the rest of my life was like maybe two years long, and all of it
was just the good stuff. Mostly I wish I could just fast-forward
through all the bullshit and get to the fucking."
She snorted out in laughter. "That is the most juvenile
philosophy of life I have ever heard."
"So?" I challenged her. "What are you doing that's any
better?"
The question froze her. The booze had torn down her defenses,
and now she was just careening from one raw emotion to the next.
"You ever sucked a cock before?" I asked her point-blank,
almost nonchalantly as I finished my cigarette.
She shook her fuzzy head, dumbfounded.
"You ever even seen a cock before?" I laughed. "I mean a real
one .. one shoved right in your fucking face."
She shook her head again and peered at me through the waning
haze of her Camel.
"Are you going to die never having a dick in your mouth, or
stuffed up your pussy or throttling your ass? Is that your big plan?"
"What are you trying to do?" she finally whispered.
"Fuck your brains out," I smiled, reaching out, nestling my
hand between her legs and stroking her cancer cunt. "Why, what do you
think I'm trying to do?"
"You're sick," she shivered, but didn't pull away.
"So are you, baby," I laughed, my other hand finding her tiny
tits beneath the tie-dye and rubbing her hard nipples while she
panted. "I'm going to bring you back out here in another hour and a
half when I get my supper break, baby. Then you're going to get you
some cock, okay ..?"
"O..okay," she shuddered.
"You do want some cock, don't you, Cancer Girl?" I hissed in
her ear as I rubbed her pussy and tits into a squirming fit.
"Yes," she sobbed, her chest heaving and her hips bucking.
"Julie told you all about my cock, didn't she ..?" I pressed.
"Mmm hmm .."
"What did she tell you, Cancer Girl?"
"Sh..she said it was b..big, and you fucked her in the ass
with it," Rachel stammered.
"Is that all?"
"No."
"Did she tell you how she sucked it, how I rammed it down her
throat and made her take all of it. How she fucking gagged on my
thick, nine-inch cock til it made her puke. And then how I bent her
over the dumpster door here, shoved her face in the garbage, spread
her bony ass-cheeks apart, and then jammed my big thick dick up her
dry shit-chute and pounded her skinny anorexic butt til she farted
shit and blood and it dribbled down her bare white thighs ..? Did she
tell you that, Cancer Cunt?" I hissed while she pressed against me,
dry humping her diseased cunt into my leg like an animal.
"Oh .. oh .. please .. no .." she sobbed into my shoulder, a
vicious cum-quake tearing through her emaciated body.
"Get your ass back inside now, Cancer Cunt," I pulled away
from her and lit another Camel. "I want you to think about what's
cumming in an hour-and-a-half. I want you to think about what you'll
be doing, what I'll be doing to your sick little body." I looked at
my watch. "10:45 on the dot, whore. If you're late or early, no cock
tonight. No cock for the rest of your life. You'll die never knowing
a dick stuffed inside you. 10:45, sharp!" I turned to my smoke and
dismissed her without even a shrug. I listened as the click-clack of
her crutches clattered up to the door and back into the club.
When I finished my smoke, I headed back inside. My prey was
sitting at the bar, her face flushed with fresh-fucked glaze. She
looked at me the way a peasant looks at a priest, the only means to
her pathetic salvation. Julie and the troop were gathered around her
chattering. They had seen her emerge from the back door, and had seen
me follow a minute later. They knew what that meant. Their jaws were
agape in disbelief.
"Want another one, baby?" I smiled at Rachel, and she
shivered. Then she nodded, and the other cunts called out their
orders. I moved down to the other end of the bar and fixed them up.
Although the cunts thought I was out of earshot, I could make out most
of the guarded whispers they thought were indecipherable beneath the
music.
" .. can't believe .. had his hand .. you did what? he made
you what? .. you're really not going to .. this is unbelievable .. you
are so lucky .. you have to tell us .. God, I hear his dick is
enormous . aren't you scared ..?"
I returned with their round, and the troop got silent.
Clarissa giggled and hugged Rachel, just wanting to touch the twat
that would soon be bending beneath the might of my legendary prick.
Only Julie wasn't giddy. She was downright ballistic. She stormed
off into the crowd, tears welling in her hollow eye sockets. The
other girls kept at Rachel with questions, savoring every last detail.
I worked some more orders then took a piss break. Actually, I really
wanted to have some more fun with Julie.
I felt her eyes on my back. In my peripheral vision, I
watched her cross the floor at a perpendicular angle so she could
cross my path ten feet from the Men's Room door. "Hey," I smiled.
"Umm .. what are you DOING?" she wrinkled her nose like she
might vomit.
"Come again .."
"You .." she shook her head in disbelief. "Is this some kind
of sick joke you're pulling?"
"What?" I asked.
"Rachel ..? Excuse me. HELLO?!"
"Yeah," I nodded, "so what about her?"
"You are not going to .. you know .."
"Fuck her," I answered.
"You are so rude!" she spat back.
"You didn't seem to mind when I had my dick up your fat ass."
The 'fat ass' mark killed her. It popped her bubble. Let all the
steam out of her engine. "Listen, I think she's cute. She likes me,
so we're going for it."
"Umm .. let's see," she rolled her eyes. "She like HAS
CANCER!"
"Yeah, so?"
"You are like major sicko, okay?"
"You're real superficial, you know that ..?" I shook my head.
"Maybe you should look at yourself in the mirror before you judge
other people, okay ..?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Come here," I took her by the hand and led her into the men's
room. Three guys were standing at urinals and the sound of whizzing
pee filled the room. Julie tried to wrench her hand away, but I
shoved her over to the mirror. I took her by the back of the hair and
pulled back so that her neck snapped back. "Look in the mirror,
baby," I hissed in her ear.
She shivered and did as she was told. The guys at the urinals
tucked in, zipped up and turned around. "What are you ..?" she began.
"Shut up, look and listen," I snapped, lifting her tummy-top
up abruptly, revealing her egg-sized tits bobbling in a black bra. I
pinched off some skin below her rib cage and pulled it out. "Mushy,"
I sneered. "Maybe you need another diet, baby." She bit her lip, but
couldn't stop the tears. "You know, when I stroke Rachel's tummy ..
guess what? No unsightly flab." I bent her over the sink and pressed
her face into the mirror. She didn't even struggle hen I lifted her
skirt and worked down the elastic waist band of her panties. Seconds
later, the lace glided down her skinny thighs, over her knobby knees
and down her bony calves until they bunched up at her feet. "Look at
this fat ass," I slapped it so hard her teeth rattled. Her eyes
exploded with tears. "Cut down on the potato chips, baby, they go
right to your big old butt." The men in the john laughed. "I'd
rather fuck a cancer freak than your fat, disgusting ass, you whore.
Jesus, you were a real disappointment, you know that ..?" I kept at
her. "I really thought you had what it takes .. you know, discipline.
I thought you really wanted this," I shoved my bulging crotch against
her bare ass so that she could feel what she craved. "I thought you'd
do anything to get some of my cock, you fat pig. But you're just like
all the rest of the girls. You're not willing to really sacrifice to
get what you want. You're not willing to do what it takes to be
loved." I started dry-humping my bulge against her anorexic
ass-cheeks, and she melted beneath my power. "You do want to be
loved, don't you, pig?" I licked her ear. "You do want to be worthy
.?"
"Yes," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I'm really trying .."
"Trying is for losers, pig. Are you a loser? Are you?"
"No .." she bawled.
"Then you've got to prove it to me," I slapped her ass again.
"You've got to show me you're worthy of a real man's love. You ready
to do that, pig ..?"
"Yes, please .. I'm so sorry .. I'll do whatever you want .."
"I don't know if I believe that, pig. You could just be
saying that, making false promises like you do every time you start
one of your diets. You don't have the willpower to keep those
promises, do you, pig ..?"
"No .." she sobbed.
"Then how the fuck do you expect me to believe you now?"
"I don't know .. please .. just let me show you .."
"You want some cock up that fat pig ass of yours, don't you,
pig?" I barked.
"Yes," she bawled. "More than anything. Please give me some
cock up my ass .."
"You think I'd ever put my dick up that fat disgusting ass of
yours, pig?" I laughed. "I only fuck nice, skinny asses. You're
going to have to do a lot of work on that ass before it gets anywhere
near my cock again. You need a special exercise program for that ass,
pig. How would you like that? How would you like a special exercise
program to get your ass trimmed down so it'll be worthy again to be
stuffed with my dick? How does that sound, pig?"
"Yes, please .." she blubbered. "I'll do it. I'll do
anything."
"That's my good girl," I slapped her bony ass again, and the
men laughed. "We'll have those unsightly pounds burned off in no
time. We're going to call this program the Ass Master, you know like
Suzanne Sommers' Thigh Master." I took her by the hair again and
turned her around to face the men who now leered at her. Two of them
had seen where this little scenario was going, and their dicks were
out of their pants again, wagging happily in the anorexic cunt's
bawling face. "You need to be ass-fucked twenty times a day, pig.
You got that?" I asked. She shuddered. "You got that, pig?" I
rubbed my bulge in her face, and she nodded, suddenly remembering what
she was sacrificing her dignity for. "Good," I petted her hair. "Now
these guys are going to start you off on today's work-out, okay ..?"
I yanked her hair and snapped her head back.
"Y..yes .. please .. yes .." she mewled.
"Well, then let's get you started. First we need the proper
apparatus," I joked, dragging her by the hair across the floor while
her skittish knees knocked against the cold tile. "Here," I threw her
into one of the toilet stalls and kicked her legs apart so that she
was bent on all fours over the commode, her face hanging over the
bowl. "You're going to need plenty of water, pig. It's not fattening
and we don't want you to dehydrate, do we ..?" I shoved her head into
the putrid toilet water, and she thrashed her head around until I put
all my weight on the back of her neck. Pressing her face into the
bottom of the porcelain bowl, I listened to her fight for air, then I
flushed the toilet.
"Man, you are one sick mother," one of the men, a dude in his
twenties, laughed. "You fucking rock, dude!"
"You want any of this bitch's fat ass?" I asked, taking my own
cock out of my pants. I had come in here to piss if you remember,
and I now relieved myself on Julie's skinny back, her brown hair and
down her gasping, bawling cheeks. It was a hot, thick whizz, and it
steamed against her pale, ashen flesh. "Okay, she's all yours," I
stepped away and patted the dude on the back.
"This fucking rocks," the dude boomed as he took hold of
Julie's head, shoved it into the piss-water, and then inserted his
meaty, six-inch cock into the cleft of her bony ass.
"Just remember to flush and clean up when you're done," I told
them. "And after you've had your turn, please go out there and make
sure all the rest of the guys in the bar get a crack, okay ..? This
little pig needs to get a lot of pork roasted off her ass by the end
of the night, okay ..?"
"Sure, man," the dude nodded as he began butting his dick into
Julie's bony hole. I could hear her head battering the porcelain and
the steady 'glug, glug' of her gagging as I exited the Men's Room.
Pushing through a line of frat boys forming at the door, I shrugged my
shoulders. GOD, SOMETIMES I JUST LOVE MY LIFE!
I went back to the bar and resumed working, priming the young
cunts until they were sufficiently oiled to spread for any dick in the
bar. Meanwhile, whispered rumors of the anorexic Men's Room ass-slut
began circulating around the floor, and -- God bless 'em -- not one
guy blabbed to the management. Gang-rape is the ultimate male bonding
experience, and every man in the place toed the line and took his best
shot as his brothers cheered him on. Judging by the noise coming out
of there, things may have been getting a little out of control in the
Men's Room. For a moment I considered checking on the anorexic cunt
to see if she was all right. Then I got an order for three Long
Islands, two Heinys and a round of Jello Shots, so I decided "fuck
it." Besides, I had even skinnier fish to fry.
Cancer Girl was wrecked by now. She smiled at me and fellated
her drink straw. I slid over in between orders. "Hey, why don't you
go dance?" I asked. "Sweat some of the booze out. I don't want you
passing out on me while I'm popping your cherry."
"You wanna see me dance?" she slurred.
"Yeah, get out there and do the gimp," I motioned to her
crutches. "Let me see what I'm going to be stuffing out there later."
She blushed and drained the last of her eighth kamikazee.
"Watch this .." she slobbered before she took to her crutches and
hobbled out to the floor. I started laughing my ass off. The little
freak was totally under the Master's spell now. I could get her to do
anything, to withstand any humiliation. I was treating her like a
cunt, and for the first time in her life she felt like a human being.
She staggered into a circle of her café friends, and then just started
this herky, jerky, Jerry's Kids spaz while everyone on the floor
stepped back to gawk. "I'm gonna get fucked tonight!" she hollered at
the top of her lungs right in the dead silent void between two songs.
Someone let out a cheer, and then everyone joined. "GET LAID, GET
LAID .." she led the chant while the tunes revved up again and she
started her St. Vitus shimmy again.
Jerry came over from the other side of the bar to watch the
freak show. "What's up with her?" he laughed.
"I'm going to fuck that freak in .." I looked at my watch, "
. about twenty minutes. Gonna give her some chemotherapy right up
her tight cancer cunt," I laughed, grabbing my crotch and shaking it
like some streetcorner nigger.
"You're shitting me, right ..?" he did a double-take.
"Why don't you take your ten in about half-an-hour, come
outside and catch the show." I smiled. "I'll let her suck your
cock."
"You just aren't RIGHT," Jerry moved away from me very slowly.
He wasn't smiling any more. Pussy .. I went back to watching Cancer
Girl do the autistic boogie. Our eyes met, and I pointed to my watch.
She looked at her own and nodded. She remembered my rules. Exactly
on time, not a minute early or late, or she got no dick, and if there
was one thing Cancer Girl needed it was cock .. hard, unrelenting,
inhuman cock battering every last one of her emaciated fuck holes into
a puddle of splooge and blood.
Six minutes later, Rachel waddled off the dance floor and
headed towards the back door. The twat troop from the café watched
her lurch across the floor with a mixture of concern and envy. They
had heard about my jack-hammer cock, all nine merciless inches of it.
They knew what I did to tender teenage cunts. It was the stuff of
their vacuous fantasies. Only for Cancer Girl, the dream dick could
become a nightmare.
Clarissa started after Rachel, but the pig Jayme grabbed her
arm and held her back. They exchanged words, and then Clarissa went
back to dancing. Rachel reached the back door and looked at her watch.
She stood there and stared at her watch, waiting, counting every
second. At precisely 10:45, she lowered her head and pushed through
the door.
I sashayed over to Jerry and smirked. "Time for my supper,
butt munch." I made a V with my fingers then slid my tongue in
between them. I wiggled my tongue, then I bit down viciously on the
webbed skin above my knuckles. I shook my head back and forth like a
lion ripping the haunches off a gazelle. My hand started to bleed,
and I licked up the blood, running my tongue across my sharp incisors.
Jerry just blanched and tried to ignore me as I strutted from
behind the bar and out the back door. The night air was cool and the
smell of garbage drifted in and out of my nostrils with every soft
breeze. I sauntered along the pavement, lit a Camel and stopped.
"You out here, Cancer Girl?" I called out.
"Y .. yes," the freak's voice whimpered.
"You ready for some cock, you little diseased whore?"
"Y..yes," her tiny voice wafted out from behind the dumpster.
"Then crawl out here and get it, Cancer Cunt," I snapped. "I
only got half an hour. You do want some cock, don't you, whore?"
"Y..yes," she mewled, emerging from behind the dumpster on her
crutches,
"Lose the crutches, freak," I ordered her. "My cunts crawl on
the ground and beg me for my cock. You do want some cock, don't you
.?" I teased. " 'Cause if you don't, I'll just turn back around and
find me another slice of veal. Maybe Julie .. or that fat fuck pig
Jayme .."
"N..no," Rachel shuddered, her crutches clattering to the
cement. "Please .. I wanna be your cunt tonight," she slurred as she
dropped to the ground. "I want your cock. I'll do anything for your
cock."
"I'm waiting, Cancer Girl," I rolled my eyes impatiently.
"Come on, girl," I patted my knee like I was calling a dog. "Here
girl. Come, girl." She started scrambling across the concrete, her
tiny hands and bony knees scarping across the scattered gravel. "Pant
for me, bitch," I called to her. "Wag that bony ass just like a tail.
You're my little Cancer Girl slut-puppy, aren't you, whore ..? Stick
your tongue out and pant for me."
She waddled along the ground like a mole, her tongue drooling
out of her mouth while she panted like a mangy bitch in heat. When
she reached my feet, I lifted my shoe and placed the toe at her
panting mouth. Instinctively, she knew what to do, what was required
of her as a cock-craving cunt. She lapped at the sole and heel,
licking the grime from between the traction ridges until they
glistened with a thorough spit-shine.
I tore off her turban and tied it around my head like a sash.
Then I grabbed her by a clump of her mangy hair and tugged. The whole
clump just came off in my hands, and she shrieked in pain. "Did I say
you could cry, cunt?" I grabbed another hank of mangy hair and
threatened to tear it out. She stifled her blubbering into a sob and
looked up at me with her vacant, raccoon-eyes. I stroked the clump of
her desiccated hair, then let it fall back down in a dead tangle.
This wasn't going to work the normal way. I looked down at her small
head. It wasn't even the size of a volleyball. I palmed the top of
her skull and lifted her face so that her mouth was even with my
crotch.
"Kiss it," I hissed, pressing her face into my crotch. "Tell
it how much you want it, you diseased freak."
"Please let me have your cock," she smooched and lapped at the
huge armadillo in my trousers. "God, I need your cock." She began
working her fingers on the snap. I let her unbutton me before I
slapped her hands away. "No hands!" I shook my head and wagged my
finger at her. "Cunts don't use their hands," I scolded her. "Cunts
use their mouths. You are a cunt, aren't you ..?" I asked. She
nodded. "Say it, whore," I snarled.
"I..I'm a cunt," she slurred.
"That's not all, though, is it ..?" She shook her head.
"Tell me what you are, whore. Tell me, or you don't get any cock
tonight .. or ever .."
"I'm y..your c..cunt," she slobbered. "Y..your freaky little
C..c..cancer Cunt," the words finally sloshed out of her drunken,
slack jaws.
"You'd do anything for my cock, wouldn't you, you freaky
little diseased whore ..? Wouldn't you ..?" I forced her to nod her
head up and down . "You'd do anything to have me make you feel like
cunt instead of some dying little sick freak, huh ..? Tell me, whore.
Speak!"
"Yes," she fawned. "I want your cock so bad. I'll do
anything in the world to have your cock and have you fuck me like a
whore. I don't want to die without being fucked like a whore.
Please, give me your cock. Please .." she begged.
"Okay," I nodded, mashing her mouth back into my trouser
bulge. "Remember, mouth only .." I instructed her as she pulled down
my zipper with her teeth. "Suck it through my shorts first, whore," I
ordered as I worked my jeans over my hips. "Show me you're worthy to
see it in the flesh, Cancer Cunt. Prove to me I should let you suck
my cock before you die."
"Mmmggll," she gurgled, working her slavering lips and tongue
over the bulge in my reeking shorts. I'd selected a three-day old
pair of underwear from my hamper that evening, one that reeked of
dried piss, encrusted skidmarks and a gamy cock-stench. I smashed and
swirled her face into my crotch as I slowly humped her mouth with my
thrusting hips.
Despite the tiny streams of puke that burped out her lips, she
seemed to be enjoying her appetizer. I felt a small boner-pee coming
on, so I let the piss stream out my prick-eye as she suckled my
shorts. "Suck the piss out, whore," I ordered, "or there's no cock
for you tonight. Suck it all out," I instructed as she bunched the
reeking cotton in her mouth and slurped at it like a thick milkshake.
"Get all that piss out, and you'll prove your worthy, Cancer Cunt ..
worthy enough to see my cock. You do want to see my cock, don't you
.?"
"Mmmgll hmmgll .." she gurgled as she tried to drain every
last drop of urine from the dingy cotton.
"Suck, whore," I snapped. "Come on, suck! Suck the piss out
of those shorts. Show me what a good Cancer Cunt you are. Prove to
me I should let your diseased, dying body touch my hard, huge cock."
She wept desperately and nursed on my piss-stained briefs like
a starving infant, stuffing more and more of the damp, reeking cotton
into her mouth while I humped her face harder and harder. "Let me see
your cock," she finally blubbered. "Please .. please .."
"Stick your face up into the flap," I pointed to the cotton
folds of my fly. She dove into the crease. "Take my cock out through
the flap. No hands," I batted back her tiny hands, then grabbed her
bony wrists and lifted both arms above her head so she could manage no
leverage at all. Then I just dangled her at my crotch, watching with
delight as her starving mouth fought with the flap of my briefs.
She shoved her tongue, her mouth, her entire face up the
crease. I felt her soft, virgin lips search for their Salvation,
relishing the sensation as they encircled the crown of my cock-helmet
and took their first hesitant suck.
"That's it, Cancer Cunt, suck it! Suck some meaning into your
short, useless, pathetic life. You're nothing without my cock, you
diseased little whore. You're just a dying little hideous freak.
This is your one fucking chance for cock in your pitiful life, slut.
This is your one fucking chance to feel like a human being. Suck it,
you little gargoyle. Suck some humanity into your worthless, broken,
dying body."
I grabbed her by the ears and then just let loose with my
fury. I didn't let her get accustomed to the feel of my prick inside
her greedy mouth. I didn't patiently teach her how to suckle a cock
in worship. I just jammed my rage down her throat with one brutal
thrust. She was so weak, she couldn't resist. Her gag reflex felt
like a soft hiccup against my shaft as I buried my choke-stick up to
the hilt of my balls. I shimmied my hips back and forth so that balls
slapped beneath her chin.
"Now your life has some fucking meaning, you sick dying
freak!" I spat into her glazed eyes. "Cancer Cunt likes to get
choke-raped, doesn't she ..?" I jeered, making her nod her head up and
down while I continued bucking my hips and grinding every last
millimeter of cock-meat into her gasping windpipe. When I felt the
life start draining from her, I slowly withdrew my rape-spear.
"Arrwwgghh .." she sucked in air and swooned over my shaft.
"Now I'm going to fuck your freaky little cancer face, you
whore," I spat in her zombie eyes. Then I rutted and gutted her mouth
like a rock groupie's pussy. Spit, pre-cum and vomit trickled and
spewed out her nose and mouth. In her drunken, transfigured state,
she slobbered and worshipped my prick like a phallic god. My cock was
her Deliverance. Being used and abused like a cunt made her feel like
a normal girl for the first time in her pathetic life. I was giving
her the greatest gift she could ever imagine, the opportunity to
please a man, to be a slavering, cocksucking, jizz-swilling fuck-toy
before they dumped her wasted corpse into a six-foot ditch for the
rest of eternity.
She threw every ounce of her remaining strength into being my
mouth slave. She allowed me to batter and bruise her gaping oral
cavity with the most adoring, subhuman subjugation I have ever
experienced or seen. My cock eviscerated every last bit of her warm,
wet mouth flesh, scraping and goring the inside of her head like a
Halloween pumpkin. She was as pliable and form-fitting as a blow-up
doll, but she was a living, breathing, tiny little fuck-toy.
"Suck my balls, whore!" I snarled, withdrawing my smoking
magnum from her throat and bitch-slapping her hideous, pale face.
"Suck those balls and work that freak tongue down to my asshole. Your
going to lick my asshole clean, Cancer Girl. You're going to eat my
shit like it's gourmet chocolate."
I continued dick whipping her until her face was completely
beneath me, nursing at my balls, then pressed up into my ass. Her
tongue slithered up my shitter, reaming me out like a plumber's snake.
She'd turned her body around now, and I was standing over her
emaciated chest. I lifted up her tie-dye tee-shirt and tore apart her
tiny, lacy-white bra. Her tits were no bigger than cherries and
almost all nipple. I pinched both of them hard and pulled up,
stretching the flesh until the tissue loosened and tore.
She squealed. I sat down on her face hard, pinning the back
of her head to the ground. I crushed her skull into the pavement and
humped my ass against her mouth. I farted and grunted out a spurt of
loose turd, then rubbed my ass over her face, smearing my filth across
her hideous face. Then I stood up and stepped over her, until I was
facing her, looking down. I pulled my briefs down until they were at
my knees with my pants. My nine-inch rape-saber jutted out from
beneath my ripped abs.
"Get those fucking jeans down and your bony legs spread, you
little diseased whore."
"Are you gonna fuck me now?" she pleaded as she kicked off her
shoes, savagely tore at her jeans and scooted them down her legs.
"Are you going to give me that big beautiful cock? Are you going to
make a woman? Please .." she whined, her bare legs and stocking feet
kicking up into the air like an insect's. "I need your cock. Please
.." she wept as she slid her panties down her bony pelvis.
This was taking way too much time. I only had fifteen minutes
left to stuff both her holes. I reached down and tore at the flimsy,
sopping-wet cotton, pulling the elastic waistband up her tiny
cunt-crack until the crotch ripped it into tatters. I knew this next
bit was bound to be noisy, so I stuffed the shredded undies into her
mouth like a gag.
She tried to spread her legs, but she was too drunk, sickly
and weak to manage near the amount of width I needed to wedge in
cunt-splitter. "Spread your fucking legs, Cancer Cunt!" I spit in her
raccoon eyes. When I saw she wouldn't be able to manage this herself,
I grabbed one of her ankles and bent her leg back so hard it snapped
like kindling. OH, WELL ..
I rested my bloated battering ram up against the shriveled,
microscopic lips of her labia. I felt a tiny puddle of her
cancer-stricken fuck juice pool around my piss hole. I pinned her
other leg to the ground and spread her emaciated thighs as far as they
could go. I heard a cracking noise in her pelvic area. Her muffled
screeching unleashed my fury.
My nine-inch shaft split her tiny, shriveled cunt like an ax,
sawing into the gash again and again until the head finally
disappeared into the tiny, bloody maw. My little Cancer Cunt was too
weak to do anything but bleat like a stuck lamb. I skewered and
drained the blood from her pussy kosher style.
Kosher style ..
Suddenly, her hollow vacant stare seemed, oddly, chillingly
familiar. I had seen such eyes before, in photographs somewhere ..
black and white ..emaciated bodies and ghoulish, soullless eyes ..
sheer appalling beauty .. the poetry of pain .. the stark
brush-strokes of true inhuman cruelty .. the living legacy of
peerless, godlike predators .. Arbeiten Mach Frei .. Rachel .. Rachel
Bernstein ..
Revelation, in my lust overlooked.
"You're Jewish, aren't you, whore?" I spit in her cock-crazed
eyes, then threw my head back and roared. "Aren't you, kike?" I
repeated, driving my shaft deeper into her heaving belly.
"Ygglll .." she gurgled through the gag.
"You're my kike Cancer Cunt, aren't you ..?" I berated her as
I stuffed another inch of cock-meat up her guts.
"Yggll .." she nodded again.
"You look just like one of those concentration camp cunts, you
know ..?" I licked her neck, jabbed my hips hard into her pulverized
pelvis, and felt my entire fuck-spear slowly penetrate the entire
volume of her diseased fuck tunnel. "This is what it must have felt
like when some big-dicked Aryan superman mounted some emaciated kike
cunt and just nailed her broken body into the earth." I heard more
bones crack. "Rausch, Juden, mach schnell," I jeered and jabbed my
bayonet into her belly. "Seig heil, juden!" I bit her earlobe off and
really poured it on. "Say it, you sick kike freak. Heil Hitler! Say
it!"
"Hggll Hggtlggr .." she gagged.
"Again, juden," I spit. "Seig heil!"
"Hggll Hggtlggr .."
"Seig Heil!"
"Hggll Hggtlggr .."
"My God, you rape good, you diseased little freak," I gasped.
"You're my tiny little toy, whore .. My tiny little kike Cancer Cunt
rape-toy. Aren't you, cunt? Aren't you?" I felt her tiny fuck-toy
body stiffen and then crumble beneath me. My entire cock sank into
her like a depth charge, submerging itself in what was left of her
wasted body, then coring her womb like an apple.
When I withdrew my dick from her shriveled snatch, it turned
her tender, ravaged pussy meat inside out. The inner walls of her
cunt clung to my thick drill bit like a sticky pink glove. I pulled
back until the tip of my piss-hole barely grazed the wispy hairs on
her labia. Then I punched my prick back into her mutilated mound,
turning the cunt-flesh black and blue while she mindlessly grunted,
humping and bucking her broken hips, trying to mash her miniscule clit
into every stroke.
"That's it, you kike Cancer Cunt. Ride that big white prick,
you hideous Jewish whore," I egged her on as she fucked an epileptic
orgasm from my enraged prick, climbing up the long white pole in a
cum-crazed trance. As she rode out the last throes of her cunt-quake,
she reached up and embraced me with her brittle bony arms. I popped
the panty-gag out of her mouth while I filled her cancer-stricken
snatch with a pint of my blessed baby-batter.
"I love you," she licked my ear, purring like a contented
kitten. "I love you so much."
"I guess I don't have to worry about getting you pregnant, I
mean not with you dying soon and everything," I smirked, letting her
cancerous cunt milk every last sperm from my pumping nuts. "Fuck,
I've got to get back to work," I looked at my watch, more than a
little disappointed she was still alive. I guess fucking a cancer
cunt to death would be harder than I thought. I shook my head in
disbelief and stood up. "I didn't even get to fuck your bony little
ass."
"You can rape me tomorrow," Rachel giggled drunkenly. "You
can rape me every day for the rest of my life. I'm your fuck-toy now.
Your tiny little fuck-toy."