This has been one of my all time favorite videos. When I first discovered the snuff community, this was posted in B&W on a website. I'm glad to have found it in hi/better def and in color.

I love the whole sequence where he shoots the girl, she drops her gun while shaking her head. I fantasize about what her thoughts are as she realizes she has been killed. She clutches her belly and falls back on the bed, squirming in agony until she dies. To cap it off, her killer turns and sneers at her.

Dana Perino sluting it up for democracy, and taking more then questions from the black community. 1 of 7 different pictures in this scenario. Please subtitle or request any other celebrity fake story porn sequences.

I saw this on tumblr and it made me wet just reading it, thought I'd share.

On Finger Fucking.

With the right girl, finger fucking can be one of the great delights in the dance. Yet, the difference between a repetitive mechanical act and a proper finger fucking can be huge. To truly make this an amazing experience, a Dominant must appreciate the possibilities, have good technique, and invest the time to know his girl thoroughly - inside and out.

Indeed. I like to take the time to explore my girl with my fingers, caressing her lips first to see just how sensitive they are. Few vanilla men ever realize that it is not always about penetration - and even fewer know the right girl can cum just from having the insides of her lips caressed in just the right way.

I like to visit my girl�s clit next. And here is where the distinction begins. A vanilla man will rub a clit like a lamp and expect the magic orgasm genie to pop out. A Dominant will explore much more sensually.

I like to trace up along her lips to her clit, pull her hood back gently, and then caress her with just the tip of a finger to see how responsive it is. Pressure is not the key. Erotic contact brings her right to the edge, and my ministrations include light pinching, working the shaft of her clit between two fingers, exploring the incredibly erogenous areas alongside and above, and gentle rubbing while I hold her hood back to expose her hot little pearl.

I should mention that I will rarely allow my girl to cum while I explore. I use this opportunity to gauge her responses (verbal and physical) and learn the best ways to edge her and tantalize her. I feel the way her body moves, and I listen for the erotic tension in her voice as she begs to cum for me. Over and over. And over again.

I then impale her, sliding my finger into her dripping wet cunt. I make sure she appreciates the way I penetrate her - using one continuous motion to work my finger deep into her until the knuckles of my other fingers are against her lips. I listen for the sudden uptake of her breath and for her whimpers and moans, and I feel the way her hips and ass move and her pussy spasms around my finger - sometimes clenching and releasing as I press on.

The next part of this dance clearly separates experienced Dominants from the rest of the pack. While we often talk about finger fucking, I rarely use a repetitive in/out solo finger thrust. There is really not that much erotic pleasure in this, as a cock would be much more fulfilling.

The key to a girl�s orgasmic pleasure is her g-spot - and this is where I focus the most time on my girl�s cunt. I work my way up her frontal wall with my finger and then crook it back, probing down until I find it - tucked down in its little pocket. I massage it as I watch her toes curl and her hips buck - learning the best areas and pressure to use form these cues. I will not allow her to cum just yet.

From this point forward, no two girls are alike. I use what I have learned about my girl to work each area and give her the most incredible sensations (and climaxes) of her life. I vary the number of fingers I use, the ways in which I clench and rub her g-spot, and the number of times I deny her orgasm.

When it is time for my girl to experience orgasmic bliss, I am mindful of what some Tantra experts refer to as a winding of an erotic pleasure center spring. The more I can edge her to orgasm and deny her release, the more I can wind this spring in her body. And each time I choose to release this spring, I can bring her to incredible orgasms. Over and over. And over again.

Finally, when I have wound my girl tightly and built an insatiable desire, I work her g-spot hard. If she has been a good girl, I will use a tantric grip, sliding my third and fourth fingers into her cunt and only THEN thrusting back and forth repeatedly, my other two fingers slamming into her outer lips, and the heel of my hand impacting against the top part of her pussy and clit.

I say just four words, and the magic commences:

�Cum for me, girl.�

She releases her entire being to me, convulsing and bucking with incredible pleasure spasms. As she shudders and sings to me with squeals, moans, and shrieks of joy, she pants out the words that make me feel so honored and complete�.

�Cumming for YOU, SIR!�

I repeat this last sequence over and over, and my girl can cum many, many times. The most joyful part is when her eyes open wide like silver dollars - amazed at what she is experiencing in her own body - finally released properly.

This is what makes the dance on the fringe of darkness such a joy�

Love her pointers.  The first of a strip sequence.  Do you like?  Want more?

I've already posted some individual pictures, clip-edits, opinions or links about my recent favorite kink/bdsm performer from Cruel World Productions. Now I'll try to collect as much as I could find about her in one board-thread like a fan-tribute database. As far as I know, there seems to be nothing about her on any other site. Alex of Cruel World was so kind to tell me, that she is called Anastasia over there and gave me two nice model pics, so I'll start with them.
I'll go on with her most recent works and go back as far as I can. New shots are announced on that site with a date, but older publications have no longer any identifiable publication date. There is only a number at the end of each clip-link that indicates the sequence of their total productions. Besides that, I'll try to include links to the very few reduced-resolution copies available here on motherless. If anyone finds any other sources, feel free to add your own links.

we used to have this little lap-dog right,and saturday mornings- :)no school, I used to take the fucking thing up to bed lie on my back with my legs open and get him to lick my anus while I jerked off.I used to wet it with spit and that mingled with the stink used to get him to lick it.Ive grown out of it now and the dogs dead,not because of me btw.It felt pretty good why the fuck i did it i dont know but my life has been full of sexual perversions ..more to come and this isnt the first in the sequence.

somebody have another pic or sequence??

Hi all,

Is there any way, and I mean any way to sort a (image) gallery? I have a series that I want to be published in a certain sequence. I renamed all the files so they sort in the right order... but still no luck.

Any advice?

anyone know where I can find a copy of the human centipede 2 "full sequence"

It is obvious that there is an international conspiracy led by deceased Nashville elites and the North Korean government to discredit the Trump presidency. They spiked the sugar glaze on the donuts that those officers ate just before arresting George Floyd. They seeded the COVID-19 virus by encoding its DNA sequence directly into Rockabilly downloads. They put subliminal messages in TikTok videos, auto-hypnotizing the population to vote Democrat, and now they intend to use the lockdown and mail-in balloting as cover for all these fake voters who are being held in a semi-catatonic trance.

PRETTY




Pretty house, pretty flowers, and all the pretty people. That could be the start and end to the story there. However, what story wants to just be pretty? You can have your pretty dress and pretty white stallion, but in the end, the stallion just drops dead.
So, imagine this scene. You have two people, let’s say Steve and Martha. They've been together since high school and raised two pretty girls who are almost through high school themselves. Steve has his perfect dream job as a novelist. Plus, he has his fucking millionth copy sold party next week at The Garches. Martha stays at home, the biggest fucking prettiest house in the Upper Valley. She probably just lays around and suntans all day, trying to be that much...prettier for her husband. Not that it would matter much, they've already been to Hawaii twice this year, and it's only March!
Oh wait, sorry, getting a bit off topic there.
So, back to the story.
The couple Steve and Martha then go to Steve's millionth copy sold party, which they just decided to call their "Zeroooooo" Party. Of course they did. Here's where the story gets a little more interesting. So, their eldest daughter, a pretty little thing, just turned 18, let’s just call her Belle to simplify things. Well, she has this boyfriend, jock, quarterback, straight “A” student. A nice guy really. However, unknown to Steve and Martha, she decides to date this other dude. Well, dude not exactly anymore. Sex change, though, would have just been a little prettier. Let's say he is a "duder". As in, all grapes add the "r" when they become raisins. The duder is about 65 now, which only gives him a couple more years before he can retire from the exotic books business. The party is also going to be the platform for Steve to announce his new book. The duder goes up to the stage, and pulls back the curtains to the new jacket cover. Let's just skip all the pretty words, and the fight, don't forget the arson and the restraining order. However, let's not forget Steve and Martha's new jobs at Feed Freddies, the move to Downton Street, and the divorce. Also, Belle's perfect quarterback boyfriend broke up with her when she started wearing more clothes than Queen Elizabeth to school. At very least, the strip club is getting even busier with the Belle, sorry royal ass Eliza, running the show.
Pretty ending to that story, eh? Well, that's just the beginning. This is all just hypothetical, of course. Let's not forget that.
Now, imagine this strip club in the Lower Valley. It’s already been established that pretty young Eliza would be the up on stage shaking her two big moneymakers. You got to love the girls with daddy issues! Let’s say that her tips are pretty good, but it is never enough. Eliza then starts taking the men back stage for her fucking specialty. OK, probably shouldn’t go there.
There is this one fucking ugly duder that would always come in with the prettiest flowers, lilies to be exact. He had a fetish of making Eliza into his pretty yellow picture. Sure, things are going pretty and well for Belle, sorry Eliza, but why does the story have to end there.
So, her estranged father, Steve comes in during one night in carnival. Oh, that place is decked out in all kinds of pretty, from the pretty beads down to the pretty masks. Steve has a right old time, drinks some beers, has a couple nice views. He goes home later and neither of them are any the wiser.
Then, it is a week into Lent that something really happened. The duder is busy working with his Eliza canvas when in walked Belle’s former quarterback dude and his buddies. OK, true, they aren't 21 yet, but who cares when they come in with some perfectly pretty fake I.D.’s. Imagine it going down like this. The dude tries to cop some feels from his former girlfriend when she is covered in all the lilies. Naturally, Eliza tries to cover herself and run. Here’s the best part. The duder fucker grabs her ankle and trips her. He then pulls out a gun and tells her to don’t fucking move again. Before he can start arranging his flowers again, the dude grabs the duder. The dude then gets shot in the head, and so does pretty little fucking Eliza when she goes to help out. The old fucker runs and gets away.
Don’t you just love where these are going? At very least, it would sound better for the story if Belle/Eliza and the quarterback didn’t die.
OK, maybe it is time for a little change of pace, maybe something a little prettier. It probably would be a good idea to give this second duder a name, to make things a little easier to remember. His name will be Ralph, after this guy...Oh never mind. So, Ralph escapes from the Lower Valley. Let it just be said that he does get away with murder. OK, so, Ralph then goes to Amsterdam in the Netherlands. Flowers, flowers everywhere, but so are the pretty people. He especially loves frequenting the Red Light District. That old fucker does what he wants. So, the moral of the story is that Ralph finds a little money on the streets, goes and buys some dope, does it up with a cop outside, and gets arrested.
Justice served, well no.
Actually, there is an explosion the next day in the lobby of the jail. All those mother fuckers die but Ralph. He escapes and no harm done. Then, he goes out and buys a lottery ticket and make some good dough. Next, he invests some of that, and due to a great surge in the economy, he brings in all the big bills. Afterwards, he starts a modeling agency, where he can look to his hearts desire, each of which become a canvas of his own. His business goes under in a couple years, but would cares; Ralph got to live his dream. That is so much prettier than all those people.
That's it, done; let's end the story right there. There were rich people who found out their daughter was fucking some duder. Don't forget the naked cover. It doesn't matter too much, those people got what they desired anyway. Then, the next scene had that pretty girl from the first tale who works at a strip club. She doesn't even realize when her own shithead father comes into the place and takes a couple peaks. Her promiscuity at least was the end of her anyway, when this God awful duder shows up. Shoots her and her ex boyfriend. The story ends on a high notes when the duder travels to Amsterdam, and makes lots of money doing what he loves.
That could be the end of it; it just could. However, why do stories always have to end just when the going gets good? There are always those hardworking people out there that want to make more money. Those are good people and their work have to be honored.
More, more, more, that is all anybody wants now a days. Let's give the people want they want.
OK, imagine this girl...since this is a sequel, it would make sense to bring back at least some of the characters from the first part. So, this girl is Steve and Martha's other daughter...Trudy. She may not be the prettiest girl, but everyone says she's beautiful on the inside with doves flying out of her ass at least twice a day. Trudy is two grades younger than that ex-stripper sister of her's Eliza, Belle, whatever her name is. It doesn't matter anymore. The dove girl sings to all the other birds and dances on the moon. Well, at least before that was before her slut sister was rightly shot in the head. Then, Trudy becomes very introverted, thinking more about her pretty self than to that cruel, ugly world out there. She ends up dropping out of school as soon as she turns 16, and emancipates herself from her now deadbeat parents. Don't worry, she has a perfectly good job next to Feed Freddies at a place called Happy Harvey's; it's a pub. No, she doesn't serve the drinks. Instead, Trudy works at the daycare in the back watching over all the pretty children.
Not long after she started working there, she began to wear this pretty sequenced red dress everyday. That was the only dress she could afford anyway. She did it for this regular that would come in, taller, youngish. He made Trudy feel beautiful again. This dude was not a pervert; he would never touch her. Well, that was until she turned 18, and then they humped it out like hippos.
One day, she over hears him saying he lost his job, so she offers for him to stay with her. He was too much of a mutch not to take it. They lived, they humped, oh life was good. Things soon got more serious, and prudy Trudy was finally falling in love. Ah, isn't that sweet. Let's fast forward now to the part of the story where she finds out he is already married. The mutch only thought she was his friend. Trudy beats the shit out of his pretty head for that. It's pretty, no, beautiful seeing the sight of the bastard afterwards. He must have lost at least 100 pounds with all the stuffing knocked out of him. Now, his wife cop from down in the Lower Valley may have not fucked or, for that matter, seen the fucker for awhile, but she is definitely the daughter of a bitch. Saying she got even is good, but retribution sounds much better. Oh, that poor girl's beauty was just pouring out of her, glistening like a rainbow.
Let's make one this perfectly clear, Trudy does not die EVER! For, that girl's hind is as tough as her hippo brethren. Oh course, that girl did have to go to some physical therapy afterwards. With her new training she can consider herself equal, and close brethren to the asses.
So, imagine a pretty physical therapy center on the edge of suburban bliss. It is a place where stallions run as free as well, stallions. OK, the fence probably keeps them a little more contained than that. Anyway, the center uses the stallions as part of the therapy. Trudy loves the new freedom and the fucking feeling of wind running through her hair. There was just one snitch in her new found happiness, the stallion, Woody, collapses onto it's side while she is riding him. Trudy's other leg is crushed and then amputated. Oh well, lesson learned.
She returns to the therapy center a while later, overjoyed to find Woody is being helped right beside her. He is slowly becoming lame. It doesn't take long for Trudy to start to hate the pretty white stallion. She is becoming Woody's bitch, lower than an animal, as it turns out. Nobody could stay mad at those bit brown eyes for long and soon she no longer minded her pretty third class status. Even more pretty was the sight of her in her red dress, which now made her look like a fruity flamingo.
Enough, enough, story time.
So, uh, losing her leg doesn't stop her from riding Woody all she wanted, slowly of could, he was just too big, and one more blow would spell the end for each of them. The riding slowly got faster and faster as they grow more used to each other. Soon, it was love, big old stallion love. To put it a big more blunt, Woody is soon getting plenty of fill from his sweet little flamingo. So much so, he fell down again during their faster riding sessions. He cracked a couple of his pretty ribs, fractured his big old pretty skull. At very least Trudy continued living, but perhaps not too happily ever after.
Oh come on, the beginning did say exactly how the story was going to end. Get a pretty fucking grip!