I'm fucking pissed. I just found out that this US Marine that I've chatted with got arrested in a sting operation for soliciting sex with minors. We both have profiles on a site similar to this one and that's where we chatted. He wasn't too bright, obviously, but he was a sweet kid who is just a horny sexual libertine.

Some fucking douchebag Homeland Security agent created a fake profile on the site, told my Marine friend that he had a son and a daughter who he was raising as cumsults who loved to suck their daddy's cock and invited the Marine to come visit and join in. This poor, dumb kid thought he'd struck gold and had met a real father who was head of a sex-positive household and just wanted to join in the fun.

What the fuck is Homeland Security doing running pedo stings, anyway? Have the smelly foreigners from the part of the world where bedsheets pass as casual wear been so lacks in their attempts to kill Americans that Homeland Security are now the small town cops who hand out traffic tickets for trumped-up violations like they're goddamn Jehovah's Witness Watchtower pamphlets because they have nothing better to do? Last time I checked, the purpose of Homeland Security was to keep the camel jockies from committing acts of terror . . . NOT ARRESTING HORNY U.S. MARINES FOR TRYING TO GET THEIR DICKS WET!!!!

That poor boy's life is over.

Bastard fucking Puritanical cunt-sniffing Pat Robertson's-dusty-old-butthole-licking addlepated fart-huffing ignorant ass-backward mosquito-raping dickless fuck-face shit-eaters!!! It makes me wish there was a god, so that the judgmental, unethical twat-wrinkles that support this unjust justice system could rot in Hell for eternity, getting ass-raped by sperm whales.

Fuck You, Dickworms! Fuck you in your fat, fucking assholes!!!

As a narcassistic and very unfriendly bastard, I'm tired of cumshot vids where there's a crowd of college guys all laughing and cheering each other on while the girl in the middle laughs, and blows cum bubbles. Sure, part of me is jealous but a good cumshot scene requires so many elements to be just right. The scene should come from the angle of victimization, betrayal, shame, and if not true terror, at least a sense of hopeless apathy. The man's face should not be seen, for he is not just one man but a living metaphor for all men who have put women to their knees through out the ages. The set, lighting, camera work, story line, music, post editing, and of course the choice of victim need to be gently balanced to achieve the epitome of man's greatest desire, to explode endless falls of semen into the face of an innocent girl! Slack-jawed, hair tangled, clothes ripped, our whore hangs her head slightly to one side in unbearable shame, eyes closed, quietly excepting her fate. Zoom out, fade to black.

A good read on the terrorist's "He said the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan and one of its splinter groups, the Islamic Jihad Union, both have recruited Chechen, Turks and other non-Arab Muslims to fight with them against U.S. forces in Afghanistan. According to Kohlmann, both of these groups are based in the Waziristan tribal area of Pakistan, "and these groups can be just as radical as anything al-Qaeda puts out."

"They have a strong animus against the United States," Kohlmann said.

But he cautioned against making any assumption at this point that the bombing suspects were recruited and/or trained by foreign terror organizations.

"What happened (in Boston) is within the capability of two relatively sophisticated, homegrown individuals," Kohlmann said. "These two people seem to have come out of nowhere."

David Schanzer, a terrorism expert at Duke University, said the attack appeared to be "homegrown" and that the suspects appear unsophisticated and without ties to or training from international terrorist groups.

"The fact that they needed to rob an ATM to get money (suggests) they didn't get large amount of outside funding. They had no escape plan to leave the country," Schanzer said. "These are hallmarks of people who are not particularly sophisticated. I don't see this as a highly planned plot. They seemed to be making this up as they go along."

Several links have been identified between Chechen guerrillas and al-Qaeda, according to an analysis by the Council on Foreign Relations.

Despite the two suspects' apparent affinity for the Chechen cause, anti-separatist Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov said there was no link between his country and Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the two brothers suspected of the Boston bombings.

"We don't know the Tsarnaevs, they did not live in Chechnya. They lived and studied in America," Kadyrov said Friday. "It has become habitual, everything that is happening in the world is connected to Chechens. Blame the Chechens."

Kohlmann sent a post on his Twitter feed Friday that the official arm of the Chechen mujahedin has denied any connection between them and the Boston suspects.

Ruslan Tsarni of Montgomery Village, Md., the uncle of the two brothers, said the family was ethnic Chechen.

Author Kimberly Marten, who researched Chechnya for her recent book, Warlords Strong-Arm Brokers in Weak States, cautioned Friday against concluding that the Boston attack was an act of terror.

"We shouldn't assume... there's a political motive behind the bombing," said Marten, who's a political science professor at Barnard College in New York City and director of Columbia University's Harriman Institute.

Most of the Chechens' acts have come in Chechnya, Russia or neighboring republics.

Among the most shocking acts of violence was an attack in the neighboring republic of North Ossetia in 2004, where militants seized a school and, in the three-day siege that followed, more than 300 were killed, most of them children.

The attack was ordered by Chechen separatist leader Shamil Basayev, who was himself killed in a 2006 bombing believed to have been conducted by Russian internal security forces.

Militants from Chechnya and other restive regions have targeted Moscow and other areas with bombings and hostage-takings for more than 20 years. The republic is predominantly Muslim and has waged two wars with Russian security forces since the demise of the Soviet Union in 1991.

p******** Vladimir Putin has often stressed that al-Qaeda is linked with Chechen fighters. According to the Council on Foreign Relations analysis, a Chechen warlord is said to have met with Osama bin Laden while both were fighting against the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan from 1979-89.

Authorities have also found links between Chechen separatists and other Islamist terrorist groups. The U.S. Justice Department said in a 2004 report that Zacharias Moussaoui, who was convicted for his role in the 9/11 attacks, had previously sought to recruit at least one man to fight in Chechnya. Intelligence officials in France had warned the FBI of Moussaoui's connection to the Chechen fighters.

An online jihadist, "Abu Sulaiman al-Nasser," boasted Friday that the Tsarnaev brothers "made the streets of America just like the streets of Afghanistan."

Violence dates back to the years after World War II when the Soviet leader Josef Stalin crushed a revolt there during the Nazi invasion and in 1944 deported the entire Chechen population to Siberia and Kazakhstan. They were allowed to return to their homeland in 1957.

Shortly after the Soviet Union's collapse, Chechnya declared independence from Russia, a move that eventually led to war from 1994-1996 when tens of thousands died and Russian regained control of the republic.

The Tsarnaev family reportedly fled Chechnya for nearby Kazakhstan and, later, the United States.

Fighting broke out in Chechnya again in 2000 when Russian forces destroyed much of the republic's capital city of Grozny in a bid to crush resistance. With the killing of key militant leaders, the separatist movement has been quelled, although violence in the region continues.

Chechen militants have committed sporadic large-scale attacks in Russia since the 1990s. In March 2010, Chechen terrorists claimed responsibility for bombings on the Moscow subway system that killed more than 40 people. In June 2010, the State Department added Chechen rebel Doku Umarov, who claimed responsibility for the March subway attack, to its terrorist list and froze his assets.

A 2008 report by the Congressional Research Service said in 2007 Russian security forces ran 850 sweeps through Chechnya that involved surrounding entire villages and searching every house. "Critics of the operations allege that the troops frequently engage in pillaging and gratuitous violence and are responsible for kidnappings for ransom and 'disappearances' of civilians,' " the report said.

Of the region's almost 1.3 million residents, ethnic Chechens make up about 95%, according to Russian government statistics. The rest are a combination of ethnic Russians and other ethnic groups from nearby countries and regions"

Terror Weekend ( Part 1 )

You wake up. Feeling your arms stretch at the shoulders, your feet dragging on the floor. The sound of metal clinking.

You try to spit the foul taste out of your mouth as you shake your head trying to get the blurriness out of your eyes.

And you realize, there is a cloth in your mouth. Tied tight. Hurting the corners of your lips.

A muffled grunt come from you as more weight falls on your shoulders. They are being yanked up and up and your body is being forced to stand.

You start to struggle, your body shivering all over as if you are freezing, and soon all of your struggling seems to do is get you swinging in the air as your feet clear the ground. All your weight on what feels like handcuffs digging into your wrists.

There is another metal clank.
and your wild swing steps as your toes reach the ground.

You hear a shuffle behind you.
Suddenly your head snaps back as your hair is yanked from the back.
To see a leering face ... not a real face ... A mask. A horrifying pig like snout pattern on it.

"Time for fun fucktoy!" growls the lips the mask doesn't cover.

The eyes though ... you will always remember the steel blue eyes ... as you realize the shivering is because you are completely nude.

And then your head snaps back into place as your hair is let go.
Tears are forming in your eyes, your chest is heaving and your pulse racing.

"WTF?" you think.

Last you remember was going to your car after a movie. Parked in the top of the garage.
And a smell, a sound like a shuffle. And that foul taste you just tried to spit out.

"Now what would I like best to use on a little fucktoy?" you hear behind you.

Some metal clinking. Like shuffling through a lot of tools.

Your eyes widen with fear.

"MMMM good. But not sharp enough."

Silence for a second then you hear a screeching noise. Your trembling now not just from cold. You are fucking terrified.
You KNOW what is going to happen, but where are you? WHO is that?

You try to scream out "Just let me go!"
But it is muffled.
And softer than the screeching ... the incessant screeching.

Your mind wanders ... what the hell? What is that screech?

OMG you think ... he is SHARPENING something!

Then you hear an exasperated grunt.

"No ... this just won't do!"

And you hear steps behind you. Steps going around you to the front of you.
And he is there. Shirtless, denim slacks, not much hair on his chest but enough to know.
Muscles wiry, not huge. Skin showing some age, not young.
Big strong hands though ... strong hands holding the biggest fucking knife you have ever seen!

And he throws the knife down point first at your feet .. KerCHUNK.

You can see him leering at you.
You hate how panicked you are ... because you know it is making your breasts heave ... turning him on more.

And he steps close to you. Grabs your hair. And kisses you HARD ... bruising your lips, scratching your cheeks and chin with the stubble from a poor shave.

YOU kick back and struggle. And all he does is ram his fingers into your pussy.
Two of them.

"Fuck ... the little fucktoy is WET!"

And he frigs ... fast and furious.
And to your shame what you hear from the frigging? Is a sloppy slushy wet sound as your abdomen contracts, your hips start to shake, and your legs tremble.

No way ... no way ... you are not going to cum ... not like this.

But he stops and walks away from you. Licking his fingers. cleaning them of your juices.

He looks at you.

Steel blue eyes. Then the knife he threw at your feet.

"That is a rope from the ceiling. The knife is sharp enough to cut it. If you can get to the knife. It is a nice knife. Just won't hold the edge for what I want to do to you.
Think about it while I am gone buying a new one.
What I am going to do to my little fucktoy when I get back.
I am almost eager though for you to escape. I will just have to hunt you down again"

And he smiles and walks out the door.

Leaving you naked, bound to the ceiling, your means of escape or protection just out of your reach.
A body aching from the constriction, and getting so close to a mind-blowing cum.
And fear in your mind.
At what he will do when he returns if you don't get to that knife.
And at how you almost don't want to escape.

For her safety her parents paid for a limousine to drive her and her friends around for her birthday. After dropping off the others the driver, who the girls had developed a friendship with, said he wanted to give her something for her big day. Her happiness turned to terror as he got in the back seat with her and pounded every hole, recording the entire experience as black mail. Ensuring her silence and his ownership of her going forward. 

Just a quick message to my fellow internetters......the British Government has now made it legal for companies to hand over IP's to them on the basis of the so called "War on Terror"..........big brother is watching,,,

IN THE HOUSE OF DRAGOOL

in a veiled world
i am light like a feather
disembodied
lightening in a bottle
everything here is alive with madness
wild walls and chairs chatter
like wise cracking gangsters
always sporting for a fight

blood tulips cry and sing
rise and wither
and rise again
loop dancers move from rhythms of light
there are many kingdoms here

in a broken terrain of night
a black ash sky howls
and we are shut in
to a starless and opaque sky
behind an impassable cobalt black gate
the ground a curse
all teeth and rocks
bones and weeping flesh

vampires live here
like clans
all blood porphyria
their mouths a beautiful rust
a tempting visage
half seduction, half terror

needled fingered hematologists
prepare our dinner
her name
Mercy
all body candy
tattooed with a snake anus
her clitoris pierced
with rose paved sparkles
and nipples
stabbed with bat shaped studs

nurses sharpen knives
while quack doctors
tend to
little plastic dolls
blood bathers
with crossed femurs
in hospitals beds

she
a naked lunch
sumptuous
and willing betrothal
in a pearl satin gown
black lips glossed
hair red and purple
thighs and belly trussed

nipples scorched and punctured
from incensed flames, teeth and ravaging kisses
eaten with panicked jaws
her cunt torrid
a gushing river banquet
of blood black jam
chained and strapped
legs stir-riped wide
feet silky glisten
for tongues and kisses

a candle light ritual
as she is copulated
by both sexes
and fed upon

Mercy
laughing like a loon
screaming
eat the feast
you lovely beasts

and half devoured
emerges
a blood perfume delirium
she all
writhing wet mouth drools
saliva like diamonds and pomegranates
back arched
withered from a blistering frenzy
her eyes a white glaring tempest
gone vacant
her mouth like licorice slur
gaping
frozen in a ghastly shriek
her belly nectar
oozing
as the very last of her
a rattled blood moon
surrendered

her remains
wolfed down
in the
house
of
Dragool

hottest bestiality story ever?

dog Rapes Woman

Archive name: not.txt (F/beast, rp, v)
Authors name: Kellie C. ([email protected])
Story title : Not a Woman's Best Friend
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
Not a Woman's Best Friend (F/beast, rp, v)
by Kellie C. ([email protected])
***






You know all those stupid Internet stories floating around about how women like having sex with a dog and they have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks? What absolute bullshit! This is a more realistic story.
***


My name is Christine and I was raped by a dog. I was thirty-two years old at the time (I'm thirty-five now) and living twelve miles east of Seattle,
Washington. The only reason that I'm telling you this is because of all the stupid Internet stories floating around about how women are won over by having sex with a dog and have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks. That is such bullshit.It was a Saturday morning and I was cutting my lawn. The house I was renting had an attached garage and a medium-sized yard. It wasn't the greatest house in the world--or
even in Seattle--but it was clean and well maintained and it fit my budget. I was mowing along the front sidewalk, made a turn back toward the house when the sound of a car's tires screeching on the pavement behind me made me jump. I turned around quickly, half expecting to see someone flying through the air, but it wasn't a person at all, but a dog.



He had come out of the woods across the street and tried to cross the road; now he stood just inside the verge of the woods again, looking back over his shoulder. His ears were laid back on his head and his tail tucked smartly
between his legs. The driver laid on his horn, yelled at the dog fiercely, and then sped away. As the car drove out of sight, the dog cautiously reemerged from the woods and sat down on his haunches. He was a black Labrador Retriever, a big one, and he watched me with a dog's typical aplomb, ears pricked up and head canted to one side as though wondering what I was doing over here. I had never seen him before and guessed he was
lost. I called to him and it was obvious that he heard me, but for some reason he ignored my call and I thought, Well fuck you too, doggie, and went back to cutting the lawn.



After finishing up, I went into the house and made myself a roast beef sandwich with a cold glass of milk and watched the noon-time news. Just as the news was going off, I heard a dog whining outside my screen door and I
went to have a look. Of course it was the black Lab."Hello," I greeted him. "You decided to be social now?"He was bigger than I had originally thought, at least 120 pounds, and although he didn't have a collar on, from his appearance it was obvious he belonged to someone. He was lost all right. His owner was probably looking for him now or would be soon enough. In the meantime, he looked pretty thirsty and I went to the kitchen and got him a bowl of water. When I set it near him on the porch, he backed away and wouldn't touch it until I went back inside and closed the screen door. "You are the weirdest dog I've ever seen," I said. This from Christine the expert, who'd never had a dog in her life.



I leaned against the jamb and watched him lap the water. He was watching me back. I tried talking to him in a soothing tone of voice, but he remained just as wary as ever. When I pushed open the door, intending to join him on the porch, he backed away and headed down the steps, took off at a run across the lawn. Just as he neared the curb, however, another car came around the bend going way too fast--as usual--and for a moment I thought the dog
would panic. But the driver laid on his horn and doing a one-eighty, the Lab bolted back towards my house, darted in behind the row of hedges beneath the front window and let out a frustrated woof! He just stood there panting.
If I don't do something soon, I thought, this dog is going to get killed. Not really sure what I was doing, I picked up the empty bowl, refilled it at the kitchen sink, then walked through the garage to the side door, opened it and set the bowl in the doorway. Then I walked a short distance away. "This isn't going to work," I grumbled to myself. "He wouldn't even let you near him."
A few minutes went by and the dog ventured far enough out from behind the bushes to sniff the air and observe me with his impenetrable black eyes. I couldn't help it, it made me shiver. I backed up a step and thought, Maybe
this is not such a hot idea, Chris. Maybe you should just go back inside, lock the kitchen door and call the damn pound.



But before I could reject this idea as plain old school-girlish silly, I heard the phone ringing and went back inside to answer it. It was Jean Michaels, a friend from New York with whom I hadn't talked in a long time. As I chatted with her gaily for the next half an hour, I watched through the open kitchen door. The dog never came in.
-- -- --



I shut the garage door and locked it. It was quarter to two and although I'd looked for the Lab all around the house and inside the garage, he was nowhere to be found. He'd done whatever it is lost doggies do, I guess...
gotten lost even more.Disgusted with the way I felt, I took a shower, toweled
dry, and put on a bathrobe. I was drying my hair when I thought I heard a noise from the garage. Not barking, but like someone thudding against the closed kitchen door. Armed with the blow dryer, I went downstairs and tip-toed cautiously through the living room and out into the kitchen. I could here him whining just outside the door. "Well, shit," I said aloud, at the sound of which he began to whine even louder and started a scattershot scratching at the door with his claws."Hold on, hold on," I said, wondering how he'd gotten in. I know the garage had been empty when I'd gone in to take my shower... at least I thought it had. He must have been hiding. Yeah, I thought, he must have been hiding.Opening the kitchen door just a crack, I watched him back
away to the far side of the garage and drop to his haunches. The water bowl sat empty beside his left paw. I had forgotten about it left it just inside the door. "Weirdo dog," I said.



Stepping into the garage, I closed the kitchen door behind me and predictably he got up and moved cautiously away to his tight. "You don't trust anybody, do you boy? Or is it just me?" He sat down again and watched me with
those polished black eyes. And then he growled.If I had been nervous before, now I was scared. You never showed fear to a dog--that's what I'd always heard--and it was obvious to me why. They can smell it on you. I clutched the bathrobe closed at my throat and took a wary step backwards, and as soon as I did this he rose and stalked two paces forward, teeth bared."Nice doggy," I squeaked. "Grrrrrrrrrr," rumbled out of his throat, low, deep and menacing. He took another pace forward, dropping lower to the ground and showing all his teeth. If I made a run for the kitchen door I knew he'd be all over me before I got three feet. "What's going on boy?" I said in a small, quavering voice. "You gonna hurt me? I tried to help you, you know." I was standing with my back against the side of the garage before I knew I had been moving. He approached me from my right, herding me away from the kitchen door,
toward the corner in the rear. I was terrified now. I was beginning to panic.
"Nice doggy," I squeaked again. "Nice puppy dog, doggie." Only this dog was anything but a puppy. He was a demon in black fur.



Refusing to be cornered like the desperate animal I knew I was becoming, I angled away and moved toward the center of the floor. The dog didn't like it much, but he let me do it. I began to think--pray--that he'd let me go all the way to the outside door and go through it. Just as it appeared he'd actually let me go, in a terrifying blur of motion, he leaped at me through the air. I shrieked and put my arms up but the force of his lunge knocked me to the floor. I banged down on my back striking my head on the concrete and hot sparks erupted like a 4th of July fountain across my eyes. My vision doubled and became alarmingly blurred. When it cleared again--too late--I found he had straddled me, fangs bared just inches above my throat. I was going to die.
But the dog had other ideas."What do you want," I pleaded in a tiny, terrified voice. My bathrobe was open, leaving me fully exposed. His hot wet prick dragged back and forth across my uncovered stomach, making me shudder and want to scream. At first I didn't even know what it was. When I finally did, in that same tiny, terrified voice--terrified now for an entirely
different reason--I protested, "No way!" and tried to scuttle away. He took my throat in his teeth."Okay, okay," I breathed with my eyes clamped shut.
"Whatever you want." I relaxed myself with a titanic effort and spread my legs. Again, the dog had other ideas. He released my throat and growled."What?" I was honestly baffled. He growled again. He made circular motions with his
head... I swear, he actually did this... and I slowly got the message. "On my knees?" I quavered in disbelief.The dog, who was not a dog at all, but the aforementioned demon from hell, nodded his head.



"You want to mount me?" A breathless whisper. He nodded again. I rolled onto my stomach and started to get up. Before I could get all the way up onto my hands and knees he batted my on my rump with his snout."What?" I was beginning to think I was already dead. Or in some nightmare dream caused by the concussion to the back of my head. It really ached. He growled and shook his head sharply to the right. Away from my body. And suddenly Iunderstood. "This is not real," I whispered. "It can't be real. It can't be. It just isn't happening." He wanted me to disrobe.Rising erect from my knees, I slid the robe back over my shoulders and let it fall into my hands. I began to bring
it around when he snatched it roughly away from me and flung it across the floor. It landed near the garage door with the arms in an out-flung, helpless gesture. That's how I felt--totally helpless. I was naked with a dog.He batted me again with his snout."What?" I objected, beginning to loose my cool. The
crippling shock and disbelief had begun to wear off and I was becoming rebellious. Damned if I was being corralled by a dog.



Suddenly he was up on his rear haunches, one talon-clawed paw on either of my shoulders and the back of my neck clamped firmly between his teeth. His breath flowing around my neck was horrid. "Okay, okay," I acquiesced. "I get the point." Then, as the powerful muscles in his jaw began to clamp shut on my neck, "Please! Anything you want!" It was a short-lived rebellion. He dropped back to all fours and so did I. He sniffed me up and down my flank and licked my right cheek. I took it. He snuffled into my right ear and bit lightly at the
lobe and I took that too. All the while I smelled his graveyard breath. What the hell was he doing? For a moment neither of us moved. He stood there panting, beside my right shoulder, facing me, and suddenly I understood. This was some kind of dominance thing, what I had occasionally seen one dog--presumably the alpha male--do to another. He was doing it to me. I got it, I
thought. Loud and clear. You're the alpha. I'm the bitch.Satisfied (he read my thoughts in my body language, there's no other explanation) he grunted lightly one time, then went to stand behind me. I stared straight ahead panting. He had really hurt my neck. Good luck, Christine, I thought. A dog is about to fuck you.



He sniffed at my pussy (I hate the word with everything I am, but I just can't think of a better one to use), then snuffled it like he had done to my ear. I tried not to jump but the shock was just too great. I gave a little shriek and sidled forward. He growled. "Fuck you!" I said vehemently under my breath. "I don't
like it, okay!"He obviously did, because a moment later his tongue went
from halfway to my navel all the way up the crack of my ass to the small of my back. This time I really did shriek and I surged forward in alarm. I also looked back over my shoulder in horror as ever nerve ending in my body jangled. It was like getting scrubbed by a warm, wet length of Scotchbrite.I didn't move. I didn't breath. I felt sick at my stomach. I wanted to puke. He licked my pussy again and I made a disgusting noise, something a real bitch might make. Tears leaked from my eyes and splattered onto the concrete below, sucked up almost immediately by the dust and porous surface. It wouldn't stay that way for long, not if I started bawling. When I started bawling. He lapped at me for a full minute, then two, getting me slathered up and absolutely raw. I felt every little sandpaper bead on his tongue and because I routinely shave to keep myself clean--I had done so only that morning--there was not even my wispy blonde pubic hair to offer any protection. My clitoris, my swollen outer lips, the mouth of my vagina, my urethra and especially my poor little anus all got the treatment. And the way he went after me with that tongue, with such unbelievable vigor--he'd driven me six feet or more across the floor--you'd think I was a sugar-coated treat. To him, I guess I was.Then he mounted me and locked his powerful forepaws around my waist and I squealed in complete and utter terror. He shoved forward with his cock, not so much searching for my pussy as dive-bombing it. I wailed again and tried to crawl away across the floor but he lunged forward over me and grabbed my neck again with his teeth. He bit down hard and growled an angry, you stay the fuck put! snarl, breaking my skin with his teeth--not deep, just enough to get his point across--and I could feel blood seeping out of the wounds. "Okay," I brayed. "I'm yours! I'm whatever you want! I'll do anything you tell me to! Just please, please don't hu--"



I sucked in an agonized breath as something hot and sticky and the size of a baseball bat entered my pussy. Then I shrieked and then I caterwauled--quietly, as those teeth still dug into my neck--and shook my entire body
trying to get him out. Instead, he worked himself even deeper."No," I sobbed. "Please no! Let me go!" Instead, I crawled forward under him six more agonizing feet until my head hit the back wall of the garage and then skidded
along its surface. I cried hot, sulfurous tears, the tears burning my eyes, my nose, the back of my throat. The thing in my pussy was hot and sulfuric too, pounding in and out of me, gouging at my vagina, assaulting me, destroying my sanity one thrust at a time. It was more pain than I could ever have imagined.
"Nuhungunaaaah," something inside me cawed. I was no more able to make coherent noise than I was of having coherent thought. I was a woman with a demon on her back... and in her vagina.



Trapped against the garage wall, I began to turn in against it. Splinters from the exposed two by fours gouged me wherever I rubbed against them. (I'd later look like a comedy skit from Saturday Night Live or Mad TV or something. The Splinter Lady, I thought.) But as the splinters attacked the side of my right hand, my right forearm, then my elbow, my upper arm and shoulder and finally my right hip and my thigh, the Lab continued walking me forward with his thrusts. I scraped against the plywood sheathing of the exterior wall,
encountering a second two by four, then a third, and finally a forth.Then I was in the corner that I had avoided so many years before--right where my doggie master wanted me--he banged me head first into the two by fours in the corner there, driving me unmercifully forward until my head had only one place to go--down and against the floor. I knelt there, jammed hard against the studs, my cheek pressed brutally against the cold concrete floor while the dog
banged and banged and banged away me.



By now I was sobbing so hard my chest felt like an exploding bomb. My entire being ached. My vagina was beyond repair and still the dog fucked me. "Please God, please don't let him do this to me," I kept saying, over
and over again. The words came out as something no human ear could ever have understood, except maybe God's... and I don't think God was listening.
Twisted with my head locked against the corner studs, I found myself watching between my legs as the dog wailed away at me. His cock was as big around as my forearm--my father's forearm--pasty white with a cobweb pattern of
vicious red veins. It was a foot long at least. It probably was longer. But terrifying as it was, what was at the end of it was ever worse. Because there, twice the thickness of the shaft and an even angrier red and white color, was a horrendous round knot. "No," I moaned plaintively as the dog continued to rut me. "I can't. I can't. No, no, no, please."But the dog told me I could and that I would and very shortly I did. I watched as the knot grew nearer to me with every thrust. Then the thing hit me with a sucking, slurping sound that made me retch with revulsion, stuck in me for a moment before he yanked himself back... and the wave of pain hit me like a Pacific tidal wave. On the fifth try he finally made it in and I was thrashing around wildly with the pain and making horrific noise and beating at his flanks with my fists. Then something hot and wet came cascading down my thighs and splattering on the concrete floor beneath our coupled organs, my guts cramped so violently that I screamed...
and then I was gone.
-- -- --



The dog was laying in the far corner of the garage, cleaning himself and ignoring me completely. On the floor beneath my crotch, where I expected a huge mass of blood, I saw something possibly even worse: a grossly-puddled mass of foamy, already crusting over semi-white fluid... his cum. I had been thoroughly rutted.I found I had bled very little. How he could have driven
such a huge and misshapen thing such as that into me without puncturing something vital or causing me to hemorrhage I don't know. Feinting when he reached climax must have provided me just enough flexibility to spare my
life. I think I sat on that floor for the better part of an hour, staring at nothing. My pussy ached and my guts were roiling inside and I felt numb like a block of wood. Never in my life had the thought ever entered my mind that a dog might actually fuck me. I had imagined it of course (I believe all women have) but imaginings are supposed to stay in the realm of imagination. Not show up in your garage. "I want to go home," I said. The words sounded so good to me, so reassuring. My home was only 15 feet away. But again, the dog had other ideas.



The second time he came for me I just let him. I got on my hands and knees, docilely let him mount me, then put my chest and my face on the cold concrete floor and held myself open for him with my hands. I didn't fight him at all. When he came out of me somewhere about halfway through, and mounted me in a different way, I shifted my hands to my buttocks and spread them far apart. It hurt his being in my ass (getting past my poor little anus was really
tough) but not as bad as I had thought. It was my first anal experience and he spared me the ordeal of his knot. The third time I lay on my back with my legs drawn tight to my chest and let him rut me like that. I think it was a new experience for him and I'm not sure he even liked it. Are you trying to breed me? I asked silently of his inhuman, polished black eyes. Am I supposed to have puppies? If so, It would be quite a litter. And then I had an orgasm. I didn't want it to happen. I fought against it with everything I had, but it was involuntary and unstoppable. He was doing me with such savage determination that I think I had no choice. He suddenly slowed down and his muscles tensed and by this time the pain from his knot had almost gone away. He prepared to unload in me and when his first shot came, hot and gushing and spilling out my cunt all up my thighs and down over my asshole, I could not stop. I came and he came and the two of us came together, him squatted over me not moving, just emptying his testicles of their unbelievable load. I clutched myself behind my knees and prayed for it all to end. His gushing, and my orgasm. Eventually, they both did. Then he was finished with me.
-- -- --



What happened to the dog? I have no idea, and I don't ever want to find out.
After the requisite fifteen minute wait, his knot finally shriveled and he pulled himself free of me with a wet popping sound and his cum--that part which hadn't already sprayed out all over me--gushed out onto my thighs and down between my buttocks. Such an awful mess. Then he hobbled to the opposite corner where he cleaned himself and ignored me from then on. He had gotten what he wanted and that was that. I cautiously got to my hands and knees and, risking another go at it, eased my way toward the kitchen door. I quietly entered the house and closed the door securely behind me, never taking my eyes off of him. He heard the door close but he never looked up. Later, once I'd cleaned myself up and then cleaned up the mess in the garage. I had my 9mm Glock with me then and just dared him to move. I would have shot him on the spot except that I'd have to explain and I would never do
that. I never saw the mutt again.I now live in Atlanta, Georgia, just about as far removed from Seattle as I can get. I live in a nice little, two-story frame house with a nice little garden out back and a semi-detached carport on the side. I also have a female Doberman Pincher named Mary that I know will never try to fuck me. I only hope some other dog does, just so I can set her loose on him.


THE END
Note: If you want to reach me I can be easily had at:
[email protected]


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

atrape.jpg

( part one can be found here https://www.wihood.com/boards/member/Chromenhawk/recent ))

Terror Weekend ( Part 2 - The Return )

Your breath was coming in short pants. You don't know how long it has been. Your rib cage is aching. You are scared. You read somewhere that if a person is actually hung by their wrists long enough the lungs collapse.

Your whole body is aching from shivering. Being naked is getting to you. The fucker has you hurting so bad and has barely even hit you. Just the environment is giving the beating.

The bleeding has stopped on your right foot. You almost had the knife. But it cut between your toes and when you flinched you knocked the knife over.

Then you hear the muffled sound of an engine approaching and stop. A car door open and close.
OMG ... he is back ... oh fucking thank god!

The door rattles and he walks in. His shirt in his hand a bag dangling from his fist. The mask still on.
He looks at the knife knocked over and you can sense his smile.
He looks at you and sees the look of relief on your face. That you are HAPPY he is back.

And the shivering stops. Replaced by a cold anger and focus. No way. No way is that smirking bastard going to get pleasure from your relief at his being there.

He walks up t you and runs his hand up your thigh, over your hip, and along your side to your left breast. You glare at him willing the thought "I am going to cut your balls off and fry them" into his head.

He smirks more and grabs the nipple and TWISTS HARD ... and keeps twisting harder and harder until your eyes close in tears and you moan out in agony.
Then he lets the nipple go and you are gasping and heaving again.
you feel his hand between you legs running the slit once, twice. Then open your eyes him licking his fingers.

You try to glare back again willing him to hear "So what. I am wet. My body betrays me, but you WON'T get the satisfaction of my mind."
You know this game. Maybe not this intense .. but you know it.

He walks behind you and you hear a thud. He probably threw the bag on the table.

Then you hear a whir and feel a strong wind on your backside. Cold freezing. The bastard turned the fan on. A little dragging as you are cussing him out and a click an hum and the air on your back suddenly becomes warm. Soothing warm.

You feel him behind you, blocking parts of that oh so wonderfully warm wind, and your feet are pulled together. And something is being wrapped around the ankles. Looking down yuo see it is vinyl tape.

His mouth is on your ass then. kissing, licking the sweat. A nip and a bite. The moan escapes your mouth through the gag. So soft and sensual. So much like the fuckhead is worshiping your ass. But the softness with the warmth feels so good.

And then his mouth is gone and you feel the full strength of the warm air. Drying his saliva on your ass.
Almost drying the fluid between your tied together legs. The leaking you had from that soft sweet mouth on your ass.
You let your head drop and shake it. NO!
No letting him think you like it in your mind.

A click and your hands get yanked up a bit, the agony of stretching , but then the clink clink of the metal and you fel your body getting lowered.

Not sure if you are relieved or not. He is ready to use you. But GOD! The relief of the chains and being stretched out after all those hours he was gone.

You body pools to the floor and you sob. And the fan is changed again so it is blowing over your whole body.
You relax into it but mind tense for the assault to come.

You hear the clatter of a chair and a little rustle.
And again the screech ... the damn screeching.

You look back. He is sitting there, sharpening the most wicked knife you have ever seen. Just sharpening. Barely paying attention to you.
Next to him is a big fan blowing air through a space heater.
All he did was protect the health of his fucktoy. Broken toys don't give blowjobs ... you hear that once.
He s just sitting there and the screech of the whetstone on the knife is driving you nuts.

And you remember the OTHER knife. The one he threw down earlier that cut your foot.
You relax. Let the warm air work into your muscles. Wait for him to get into his routine. You will teach him not to think.

Carefully you shift your body. AS if trying to get comfortable. To let the hot air from the fan get to other cold parts.

You wait.
You let your body stop trembling. Although it is aching.
YOu lay your head on your arm as if you are sleeping. And you so want to. But you pay attention. He runs his thumb along the edge of the blade and then starts to dig through a tool box for something.

And you reach out carefully and quietly for that knife. The one he forgot about. Fingertips touching the hilt. Ready ... for

Suddenly you feel yourself pinned to the ground. His whole body against yours.
Your cheek being ground into the wood floor. His breath on the back of your neck.

"I so wish you had gotten to it. It would have been more fun. But I won't let you win by not trying hard enough."

You feel him squirming on your back and then feel his pants sliding down. As he hold your face to the floor by the back of the neck.
His knee pins the small of your back and you feel a sharpness descend down your calf as he cuts through the bindings of your ankle bonds.

As soon as they are free you start to kick. and start to reach even harder for that knife. Just so close to your fingers. He PINNED you ... The fool didn't knock that knife away!

Suddenly he slams your face into the floor HARD ... and your eye and forehead hurt where he slammed it.
He slams AGAIN and AGAIN.
And you know you are about to pass out.

Your body feels flipped. Your legs shoved apart and you look up ... the darkness fading.

Just as you feel him enter you.
You try to scream ... and you realize you are screaming at YOUR body.
Because when he slid in? He had no problem. You were so wet, it just went right in.

His left hand wraps around your throat and you can feel him squeezing. Your breath catches. Your hands pushed above your head.
You knees, sliding along his hips with each thrust.
Your betrayer feet, on his ass. Not just held out unwillingly but on his fucking ass, pulling him in.

No breath, no gasp, mother fucker holding your arms above your head and chewing on your tits.
fingertips brushing the edge of that sweet knife you almost got ... sweet enough if you could just grab it and plunge it in his back.

And your hips tremble, your thighs quiver, your vision dwindles down to a pint from the lack of oxygen ... he is about to shoot ... you can tell ... if only ... the knife ...

And you feel warmth in your pussy ... a lurch, a growl, a grunt and ... the whole splash and you know ... not even a condom ...
and you cum with him ... in an explosive cum ...

as
his
fingers
around
your neck
make
you
BLACKOUT

Pauline The Slut - Part 4: Visit to the Office

When I woke the next morning he had already gone to work. My ass was still sore from his cock and the belt and my nipples still ached. I decided to take a bath. The hot water helped soothe my body. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I must have nodded off because the next thing I remember was the phone ringing. I got out of the bath and went back to the bedroom and answered the phone.

"Slut, put on your pink summer dress and your high heel sandals. No underwear and get a taxi to my office. Be here at noon. Don't be late." He hung up.

I stood there with the phone in my hand and water dripping off me. Did he really ask me to go to his office in the pink dress. He knew I didn't like the dress. He had made me buy it. I had worn it while on holidays but it wasn't suitable for the office. It was very short and low cut at the front and back and he didn't want me to wear any underwear. I couldn't do it. People would see me. 

I dried myself and lay on the bed. I knew I would be punished if I didn't go. He might even throw me out of the house. He had threatened to do it. I finally decided it was best to go.

I felt uncomfortable in the taxi. The driver kept looking in his mirror at my breasts. I was somewhat relieved to get to the office. The receptionist couldn't hide her surprise when I came through the door. Anytime I'd been here before I would have been dressed respectably. She watched my breasts bounce freely as I walked towards her. 

"Hello Pauline." 

"Hello Beth. I'm just going upstairs to the office ." She followed me to the lift. " I'll have to go up with you. New security rules." 

"Oh" I said.

When the lift got to the 5th floor she turned left instead of right to the office. She brought me to the meeting room, opened the door and showed me in. There was 10 or 12 people inside mostly men but two or three women. All eyes turned towards me. 

I was instantly conscious of my dress among all these people in business suits. My husband came towards me smiling.

"What a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you." he said. Then turning to everyone he said "You all know Pauline, don't you." They all said hello. By now I could feel my face burning from my embarrassment.

"That's all for today." He said to everyone. People got up to leave. Most came over to say hello and get a closer look at my breasts. When everyone had gone I turned towards him.

"How could you do this to me." 

"Because you're a slut and everyone needs to know. Next time I might even get you to suck some of their cocks and eat some pussy." He laughed when he saw the look of terror on my face. "Now get on your knees and suck my cock. Make sure you swallow it all. I don't want the carpet getting stained."

I looked at the door and then at him. "You better hurry before someone comes in." he said as he unzipped his trousers. I quickly got to my knees and took his semi-erect cock in my mouth. It quickly filled my mouth. He started to pump my mouth pushing his cock further in with every stroke. He was soon entering my throat making me gag. 

"I'm going to cum so make sure you swallow every drop you little cock sucking slut."

I felt him explode in my mouth. I struggled to swallow it all. When he finished he zipped up his trousers and headed for the door. "You can go now slut. I'll be home after 7."

I couldn't believe it. I'd been paraded half naked in front of his colleagues, used like a whore and sent home. The tears started to swell up in my eyes. I got up off my eyes and headed for home. 

On the way home all I could think of was everyone seeing me and his threat that I would be sucking them next time. He wouldn't do that . He was my husband. I'd only ever had sex with him. Our marriage had to mean something to him.

I confess I have a new sex toy! I would never have payed attention to a girl this young but the way it went down, it just fell into my lap. She is old enough to drive but 20 years younger then I.

I hired her to work in our retail shop on Saturday mornings when we are slow. I stopped by to drop off supplies and walked in the back door that is always locked. She was in the back and jumped when I walked in. She was fixing her clothes and I assumed she had just walked out of the bathroom. I shook her hand when I greeted her and she looked really scared. I asked if everything was ok and realized her hand was damp when we shook hands, again, I assumed she just came out of the bathroom. She said she was ok, I just scared her.

The look on her face made me wonder if she was stealing. I went to my office and watched the security video. She wasn't stealing, she was playing with herself. I smelled my hand and could smell her pussy. She was using a bottle of our product as a dildo. I found the little bottle, it was still covered in her juices right outside my office door.

I called her into my office and told to watch what I had just seen on video. The camera isn't really set up to watch that area and it was not that great of a view but it was enough that I could tell what she was doing. I dont think she realized the camera was back there but everyone knows we have cams in the store.

She started to cry before I was able to pull of the video and asked me not to play it. We have another girl working during the week that is her age, I know they don't like each other but they never work the same shift. I asked what she was going to do if the other girl saw the video, I said the other girl would probably post it on the web. The look on her face was terror! I NEVER would have created this nor would I have even thought about it but something clicked right then. I told her I wouldn't let anyone else see it but I wanted to fool around with her. She got up as if she was going to leave, crying harder then before. I said "fuck it, I'll post it right now" and she turned and sat back down.

I told her to stand up, I reached for her and she turned to the side away from me. I can't remember being that fucking turned on. I had to reach down and pull my cock up, my head is sticking straight up over the top of my pants. I tried to turn her towards me and she sat back down covering her face. I leaned to her and dropped my pants, my cock is right in her face rubbing the back of her hands but she wouldn't move her hands. I sat back down and said fuck it, you can go. She sat still for a minute and then got on her knees in front of me. She was sobbing while sucking my cock.

I knew I would cum fast even though she doesn't know how to suck dick very well, I stood her up and unzipped her pants, she started to stop me but then moved her hands away. She wouldn't look at me, still sobbing as I spun her to my desk and slid off one of her shoes and left her pants and panties on the other ankle. I sat her on the desk and started sucking her pussy. She wasn't wet or excited in any way. Turned me on even more!

I told her to watch the monitor to make sure no one was walking in, after she was watching is when her clit started to get hard, a minute later she was cumming in my mouth. I stood up and slid my cock into her. I don't remember ever getting pussy this tight. I wanted to make her cum by fucking but she started sobbing again. I slowed down trying not to cum but her tears and her whimpering was just tooo much. I pulled out and dropped into my chair, my face was a foot away from her pussy as I jerked my load onto the floor.

She rushed into the bathroom and I cleaned up my desk and my cock, I saved the towel and used another to clean my load off the floor. When she came out of the bathroom she was a different person, she was happy. She acted like she was my girlfriend. She said "I better be getting more hours from now on" with a huge smile on her face. I said "all the hours you can handle" and we flirteed the rest of the day. I know it will never be as hot as it was when she didn't want to but I think we will be spending Saturdays together from now on.