Why why why do people get off on this sick sick sick shit? ‘Splain that to me, will you? Just get a load of what people are shooting a load to these days, its disgusting! With some disgusting pix too.
Young Blonde
by Eli the Bearded
I went in through her bedroom window. She was sleeping on her back, only partly covered by a sheet, wearing only panties and a boy’s baseball shirt.
A sweet face with wide, full lips. Most important, a long swanlike neck. A really lovely girl; she’d be a real beauty when she grew older. I clamped a hand hard over her mouth. She woke instantly and began struggling in desperation.
She wasn’t stupid or naive; she knew already what I wanted and began to tremble. I made a ‘silence’ gesture with and smiled. She swallowed and nodded once, her blue eyes wide and terrified, and I took my hand away from her mouth.
She was seventeen years old, her breasts were finely developed, but her nipples stood erect because of her fear. I’ve seen that before. She was a swimmer and her figure was trim and slender. A nice body for seventeen. I gripped her ponytail and yanked her flat on her back again; her breasts jiggled and she cried out in pain. I pointed to her white lace panties. She tried to shake her head but couldn’t.
“Please . . . ,” she whispered, and the tears trickled down the sides of her face.
She shut her eyes tightly and pushed her panties down as far as she could reach, and I pulled them slowly off her. She had long legs, slender and tanned like the rest of her, with long athletic muscles. Slender ankles and small feet, too. I was right; she really was a very pretty girl.
She was also a natural blonde. Her pubic hair was light and fine and the crevice below it was completely bare. I wondered if she was still a virgin. One could never tell these days. I spread her legs and motioned for her to bend and raise her knees so her genitals were open and exposed. I moved my hand from her ponytail to her throat and while she was dealing with that, I shoved my cock into her.
She jerked in terror and tried to cry out, but my hand on her windpipe allowed only a small, scratchy sound to escape. I withdrew my cock and noted the dark blood on the end. A small amount of blood was also trickling from between her legs.
I again knelt between her trembling legs, uncapped the nearly empty tube of K-Y I had brought with me, and covered my middle finger with it. When I pushed the finger into her, her buttocks jerked and tightened, and she gasped with shock.
“Loosen up and this will be easier.” I made a hook of my finger and lifted. She stifled a cry and made an apparent effort to relax.
“That’s better, now.” I smeared more of the jelly on the head of my cock, which was now fully erect, and leaned forward, placing the tip against the brown ridges of her sphincter. I have found it’s easiest to do this part quickly, so I took a breath and shoved hard. She cried out when the head popped into her and began sobbing when I thrust forward.
“No, please,” she begged tearfully. “Please, don’t! It hurts!”
A nice touch, I had to admit.
Two more hard thrusts, and she was impaled to the hilt. A young girl’s hole is always a snug fit, but this one’s slender build seemed to include a particularly tight, particularly long rectal passage.
Then, as I put my weight across her smooth, warm body, I felt a sudden wetness around my balls. She had lost control and peed in her bed. The aroma of a young girl’s urine is heady and acrid — probably something to do with puberty. I enjoyed the added effect.
I penetrated her again and again, increasing the tempo as her natural moisture improved the lubrication. She was sobbing loudly in syncopation with my movements and I cupped her little breasts in my hands, squeezing them hard and pinching her nipples. She wailed even louder.
“Keep making so much noise, and I might not ever stop.”
She managed to smother her sobs and I let go of her breasts, raising myself up on my elbows. After a couple of minutes of increasingly forceful jabs, I climaxed, ejaculating into her intestines.
I rested atop her a moment to regain my breath, then pulled out of her ass.
I went into her bathroom and splashed water on my face and washed the residue off my genitals, and dried myself with one of her towels, and brushed my hair with her brush. I went back into her bedroom and put on my sweatsuit. Looking around, I remembered to pick up the tube of K-Y. Its smooth surface was an excellent place to leave prints.
I paused again at the bedside and gently stroked the soft hairs on the curve of her neck, her tanned shoulder blades, down her spine to the small of her back, across her warm little bottom.
Yes, a lovely, lovely girl.
A Hanging
by Eli the Bearded
Joan realizes she’s in bad trouble. Damien is big, strong, in great condition, and well coordinated. She’d have trouble fighting him off under the best conditions.
“I’m going to enjoy you while you die.
She manages to nod her head and wheeze out, “Yes, go ahead. Take me.”
She feels the cool jelly being spread between her ass cheeks, then a finger slowly presses into her asshole. A few seconds later, a second finger joins it, spreading the jelly around inside her sphincter. She feels his cock press against her tight little hole and presses back against him. As she expected, she has some trouble taking him in, but he pauses and reaches around with one hand to feel her clit again.
Damien is able to slowly push his way into her asshole. Now that she’s managed to open to him, she’s enjoying the feeling of being filled up by Damien’s cock, and the sliding motion in and out of her hole feels good
“Hang me!”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Hang me!”
Damien withdraws from her ass and takes the noose and puts it around her neck.
They climb the library stool together. As she reaches the top, Damien has her turn around to face him. She stands on the top with her feet as far apart as possible on the stool, adjusts the rope so the noose just starts biting into her neck.
He puts his hands under her ass and boosts her up until her crotch is even with his waist. “Hold on with your legs,” he tells her. She grabs on, holding her breath, but the demand from her lungs forces her to start letting it go.
He guides her with one hand on her collar and the other under her ass until his cockhead slides into her cunt, then tells her to keep sliding down.
She gasps in pleasure as his cock fills her cunt, then resumes breathing as best she can. He tells her to lock her legs tightly around his hips, removes his hand under her ass, and uses it to make sure the knot is directly behind her head and no hair is inside.
“Well, Joan, ready or not…” He steps down one step and the noose tightens around her neck. She acquires a new fear to add to the knowledge of her coming death: that the pain in her neck and chest will get worse. But there’s a tingling between her legs that competes with the fear.
She pushes herself up desperately with her thigh muscles and manages to rise until only his cockhead is in her; the noose loosens slightly, but not much: rasp, snore, rasp, snore; it doesn’t slide easily in that direction.
She opens her mouth wide and stretches for air, but that’s no improvement either. Then he grabs her shoulders with both hands and pushes her back down on his cock; she feels about half of it slide into her, and the noose tightens again.
The rope is also pulling her body against him and she feels her erect nipples rub against his chest as she slides up and down.
He allows this to continue for a minute or so: she rises as far as she can and gets a little air, then he pushes her back down. Then she notices that each cycle ends with the noose a little tighter. She realizes that he’d been standing on the balls of his feet and is slowly settling back onto his heels — also that at this pressure she can’t keep up with her body’s demand for air,. She manages to gasp out, “chest hurts… scared… noose…tight…can’t…breathe.”
He smiles, “Good. It gets worse from here.”
“Please…one more…deep breath…”
“No joy, Joanie.” He pauses, then chuckles, “You asked to be hanged, and that means _no_ support at _all_. Let go with your legs.”
“No…Please…”
“I can _make_ you let go, but you won’t like it!”
She lets go and the noose jerks even tighter around her neck. Her breath now comes in desperate gurgles, when she can force any air at all, and her fear turns to terror as she realizes that her neck muscles are rapidly getting tired keeping even that tiny airway open.
She keeps trying to find some support, reaching with one foot, then the other, even though she knows there’s nothing within reach. But each try just pulls the noose tighter. She’s dancing on nothing as she hangs.
Damien feels her motions rubbing her cunt up and down his cock and _twisting_ from side to side as her legs kick. The motion also presses her nipples alternately into his chest. He struggles to hold back, waiting for the end.
Joan’s neck muscles soon give out and she quickly discovers that there’s a big difference between not getting enough air and not getting _any_ air. She panics and loses control, kicking frantically for a foothold and trying to wrap her legs around Damien’s body — anything to ease the pressure that’s building up in her chest and head.
But everytime she starts to get her legs around him, he just bats them away. As she struggles, she feels herself moving a fraction of an inch up and down his cock and her very erect nipples rubbing against him.
The tingling in her groin is growing uncontrollably, her ears are ringing, and her head feels like it a balloon being blown up to the bursting point. Her heart pounds and her chest feels like it’s about to burst. She feels wonderful and terrified at the same time – terrified of dying — worse than the scariest roller coaster she’s ever ridden, and she knows that this is her last ride.
Her struggles grow weaker, and she can’t think coherently any more. She kicks feebly at the air. The she feels his hand on her sex and his finger tickles her clitoris. She comes, an enormous, shaking orgasm that forces her head back and clamps her cunt tightly around Damien’s cock. Her vision starts to get red, then black around the edges.
She hears Damien murmur “Bye, bye, Joanie” in her ear, then everything fades away.
Island
by Eli the Bearded
“We always come to this island. No one else seems to know about it. Total privacy. No interruptions. Just good friends and good food… our own little paradise where we can be ourselves for a while.”
Cal anchored the boat in the middle of the shallow lagoon, and together they carried several large coolers and picnic hampers to the beach. They placed the hampers under some trees, and the two women followed Cal into the jungle.
Sharon stopped at the edge of a four foot deep pit, nearly eight feet long, lined at the bottom with light grey volcanic rock covered with a thick layer of ash and charcoal.
“That’s our fire pit. All the rocks help hold in the heat…” Cal explained.
“Cooking luau-style is a bit of an art,” Cindy said. “Cal’s one of the great masters of the luau… we both picked up our taste for it in Fiji, when we were with the Peace Corp…”
“Fiji… isn’t that where they have headhunters?”
“Headhunters… cannibals… actually, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds.” Cal said as he evened out the layer of stones.
“The first thing we have to do is collect as much firewood as we can find…” Cal said.
The three fanned out into the rain forest and began dragging deadwood back to the side of the firepit. After half an hour, they had collected together a small mountain of dead limbs and twigs. Bill began breaking the smaller pieces up for kindling.
Cal had arranged the kindling in a narrow, long strip down the center of the pit, and was beginning to pile the larger wood on top.
“We figured a light lunch… Cal and I always like to save room for the big feast in the evening…”
“A light lunch is perfect. You wouldn’t want me to get fat, would you?” Sharon said, patting her tummy.
Cal looked at Cindy and smiled broadly.
After lunch, they returned to the edge of the lagoon. Sharon frolicked in the warm water for a while, then took a short cat-nap on her beach towel. The couple intently studied the sleeping woman, watching her deeply tanned chest and belly rise and fall with each breath. The woman rolled over onto her back.
Cindy laid down with her and began stroking her hair and gently kissing her lips. Sharon responded, holding Cal’s ass tightly drawing her closer. Cal moved her thigh up between Sharon’s legs and they rubbed their clits against each other’s leg while sucking tongues, faster and faster. Cindy pushed a finger into Sharon’s ass as they came together, moaning into each other’s mouths.
“We’d better start getting the feast ready…”
Cal took two lengths of cotton clothes line out of the hamper, and handed one to Sharon, lying with her eyes closed, recovering from the intense orgasm. Carefully, they knelt on either side of her.
Sharon rolled onto her stomach and looked up at Cal.
“Is it dinner time already?”
Without speaking, Cal grabbed both of the woman’s arms just below the elbows, and pulled them towards the middle of her back. Cindy swiftly looped the clothesline around her wrists, tying the ends with a solid square knot. Placing his knee against the small of the woman’s back, Cal pinned her against the sand while Cindy lashed each of her flailing ankles back against her thighs.
After making certain that Cindy’s knots were tight, Cal rolled the woman onto her back. He pulled the sheath knife out of his belt, and slipped the blade underneath the thin strap which connected the cups of Sharon’s bikini top together. The elastic fabric sprang to either side like a snapped rubber band, and the massive globes of her breasts tumbled free.
Cindy picked up the small bikini top, wadded up the two triangular patches of cloth, and jammed the mass into Sharon’s gaping mouth. She tied it around the woman’s head with the remnants of the shoe-string thick strap. Cal untied the bottom of her bikini, and pulled the small piece of cloth from beneath the helpless woman.
Sharon flopped around on the sand like a freshly landed fish, desperately trying to wriggle out of the ropes lashed tightly around her wrists and ankles.
Cindy rubbed her hand across Sharon’s bare ass, tickling her puckered hole then rubbing further to her clit, massaging it forcefully. Sharon squirmed in spite of her fear.
“Look at all that meat…”
Cal placed his hand on the middle of Sharon’s vulva, and gently pressed. Her flesh was warm and resilient beneath his palm. His hand travelled up her torso to cup one of her full breasts. He slowly pushed his cock into her as Cindy sucked her clit. After 20 minutes of slow, langorous fucking, Sharon and Cal came almost simultaneously, with Cindy, massaging her own clit, following close behind.
“I think she’ll cook up nice and tender…”
Cal sat down in the sand next to Sharon. He held out the knife to Cindy. Sharon looked up at the razor sharp edge, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“Would you care to do the honors?”
“It will be a pleasure,” Cindy responded.
Cindy took the knife. Straddling the woman’s hips, sitting on Sharon’s thighs, Cindy poised the blade just beneath the woman’s breastbone while Cal pinned her shoulders against the sand with all his weight.
“Nice and slow…” Cal added. “And be careful not to cut too deep. You don’t wanna cut into the intestines…”
