OMG!!!

CAMTASTROPHES #3

CAMTASTROPHES #3

Shit Pornstars Say 2

Shit Pornstars Say 2

Butt Sex Claims Another Victim

Butt Sex Claims Another Victim

The 24 Year Old FEMALE Virgin II

The 24 Year Old FEMALE Virgin II

But Youre My Brother Lolz

But Youre My Brother Lolz

Pornstar Attacks Male Performer

Pornstar Attacks Male Performer

Board Posts

10
Anonymous
@confessions
05 Dec 2013 1:06AM
• 9,369 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 14 replies ]

I must confess that when I was away on a business trip a couple years ago I had a hooker come over. She was a cheap whore too, skinny and kinda homely, but she really tried hard. She was giving me a blow job while I was fingering her, then turns to me and asks if I want her to hop on and I say yes. She reaches over and grabs a cover and..... Well that's what I expected from my previous times with hookers, but what really happens is this. She says "do you want a condom on?" I say "whatever" and away she goes. It was the most amazing feeling sliding into that dirty pussy, horrible and forbidden. Pretty soon I blew my load in that pussy. We laid there for a few minutes and I was like what the fuck did I just do. I started thinking fuck that was stup..... and then she starts sucking on my cock again. Then all I could think of was getting back in that hot nasty pussy. She got me hard and I fucked her every which way until I came again. A couple days later I flew home. The night I got home I fucked my wife like she has never been fucked before thinking of that dirty whore pussy I had been in a couple nights before. My wife loved it and thought it was because I really missed her.

About a year later my wife takes the kids out of town on a trip with her friend. Well I get the hankering again and look up another girl, this time earlier in the day that the wife and kids are coming home. I head over and meet up with this hooker, a classier one this time, or so I thought. Well we sit on the couch for a bit, I get my fingers in that wet pussy, then she leads me to the bedroom, strips both of us naked, drops to her knees and starts blowing me like crazy. After a bit of that she gets up, leads me to the bed and crawls up and lays down. Next thing I know she pulls me on top of her and my cock is in before I could even react. I didn't last long and filled her up and then again a little bit later. She asks if I want to take a shower, but I decline.

I head home and wait for my wife. She gets home and we put the kids to bed then head for the bedroom. We get going and she drops down and puts my dick, now covered in dried dirty pussy, in her mouth and she pauses for a second then just starts going to town. When I felt like I was getting ready to cum I laid her down on the bed and stuck the same fingers that had been in the whore earlier in her, mixing the pussy juice and bringing her right to the edge. Not being able to stand it anymore I slam my cock into her and we both have the hugest orgasms.

After we lay there for a while and catch our breath my wife turns to me and says "your cock tasted funny". I asked her how so? She couldn't really describe it, just she really liked it and somehow it seemed to really turn her on.

Well it has been a year since that happened and I am on a business trip heading home tomorrow. I am scheduled with another whore before I leave tomorrow. I know it's stupid and I've already tempted fate twice and got away clean, but in there somewhere I'm hoping that I get to bareback it with this one too.....

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Anonymous
@soapbox
17 Mar 2013 5:44PM
• 4,349 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 21 replies ]

You guys need to get your shit together.

Terrible new video player-Doesn't show timings or preview windows, buffers horribly slow, it's very limited. It's a step backward, not forward.

Thumbnails are broken-Thumbnails broken everywhere. You have to mouse over the whole damn page just to see shit.

Server Speeds-It sometimes takes a very long time to do anything here.

child Pron-Dear god the amount of child Pron or other questionable shit I've seen on here.

Censorship-WTF is happening to this site. You said ZERO censorship and you've been censoring content left and right. How about you stick to your words, eh?

Get it together or take down the site. You aren't a little niche site anymore, you're with the big boys now, start acting like it.

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Anonymous
@confessions
08 Aug 2014 8:15AM
• 7,521 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 20 replies ]

I confess I like doing horrible stuff to prostitutes. I don't know what is wrong with me.

A girl I picked up I got the urge to punch her while I was fucking her from behind. I have her a slight tap on the back of the head and she just let out a moaning sound so I did it again harder and she said stop so I did it again. She went ballistic and called me an asshole and some other things, I offered her money to stay but she got dressed and left.

This other girl I picked up I ended up putting my hands around her neck and choking her until her face turned red, she was flailing about hitting me until I let go, she spent a while on the floor gasping for air and crying. She kept lashing out trying to hit me when I went near her and would not stop crying so I had to leave.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I know it's wrong but I can't stop myself.

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Anonymous
@confessions
09 Mar 2012 5:03AM
• 1,631 views • 0 attachments
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I confess that I�m a horrible father. It seemed to happen so fast and yet so slow at the same time. What was even going through my head? Gotta touch him, gotta have him, gotta love him� My own son. I know what he�s been through, how could I do that to him? He went through hell. Being held captive by that man for so long. No one really knew� that�s why we never really looked for him. It�s my fault. I made the decision. I�m the one who said �No, leave him be. He�ll come back when he wants to.� It�s my fault he stayed there for so long. And then he gets back not even two weeks ago and I can�t keep my hands off him?! I can�t respect his pain? I can�t respect HIM? He needs time to heal himself and be okay again and come to ME when (if) he wants to have sex again. When he�s comfortable enough with himself and the other people around him. When I can hold him again and let him know I love him. Not like this. Not coming into his room while he�s crying, trying to make things better. Not getting handsy and forcing his clothes off. Not holding him down when I feel like I can�t take it anymore. Not covering his mouth when he cries to hard. This isn�t how I want him at all. This isn�t how I want to be.

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Anonymous
@random
15 Apr 2013 11:51AM
• 11,322 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 6 replies ]

Omegle was horrible today, EXCEPT for a horny butterface, about 21 YO if u subtract about a decade. Cute lil pointy tits, hairless pussy, lips just starting to pout. She could barely fit 2 of her tiny fingers in her tight pussy, but she did, with great pleasure.
Tight, round ass -- yum!

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Anonymous
@confessions
27 May 2007 2:49PM
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The worst thing I ever done -- I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa -- and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

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Anonymous
@confessions
26 Nov 2022 9:07PM
• 1,787 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 9 replies ]

My (24F) ex-BF (26M) got me addicted to porn. I never watched before until he wanted to while we had sex. It was fun and exciting. He picked a regular amateur vid of a couple fucking. Nothing very noteworthy about it now but at the time I felt so dirty, watching other people fuck while he was taking me from behind. I could tell he loved it because he was harder than I'd ever felt him and he barely lasted. I was riding the high of being so dirty for a while. 

The next night he just put it on without saying anything. This time he licked my pussy till I came before he fucked me. The whole time he was watching a woman getting gang fucked. I was jealous that she turned him on more than me but I loved seeing all those men taking her without even caring if she liked it. I'd never seen a man act like that and it made me feel like I was missing something. Thinking about it made me feel even dirtier, which just turned me on more.

I started watching it without him, going down a rabbit hole of increasingly degrading scenes. He loved it. He loved coming in and seeing me fucking myself to women getting brutally fucked, hit, spit or pissed on. I stopped wearing bras (i have smaller tits anyway) and eventually stopped wearing panties except for during my time. 

He dumped me about 4 months later. He texted me that he was going to stop by with his brother (25) on their way to go on a dirt bike camping weekend. My brain took that to mean he was bringing his brother over so they could fuck me together. When they got there I was completely naked and ready. His brother was shocked and just walked out. My BF went off on me about being a whore and left. I apologized over and over and cried for hours. Even after that I couldn't go to bed without getting off. I felt horrible and turned on for being that way. 

I hate that I love porn so much. 

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Anonymous
@random
22 Nov 2016 7:10PM
• 938 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 12 replies ]

My husband is horrible in bed, and I need to find a man who can take control and make me loose so he can not feel me. I want him to be able to smell your cum in me when I come back home. Would you be able to help me please?

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Anonymous
@confessions
14 Sep 2023 8:29AM
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I came on my girls face and felt terrible about it.

So here's a confession that will probably be comical to you, my girl and I think it is at least lol. So we were fucking, pretty intently actually and while I was fucking the shit out of her, I thought it would be hot to give her a facial because I had never done it before. While fucking her and getting close to cumming I asked her if I could cum on her face, she said yes and I was excited. So I started fucking harder untill I had to cum, when I had to cum I pulled out, ripped the condom off and assumed position above her face. I started jerking off getting ready to bust, I knew it was gonna be a huge one and I genuinely thought this was gonna be sexy as fuck. It finally got to the point of me cumming and I aimed, and I came......BUT as soon as the cum exited the tip, I felt so horrible, just thinking to myself "I am so sorry about this". Needless to say I completely COVERED her face with my cum, it got in her eyes and everything, the reason I felt terrible is because I have a great deal of love and respect for her, and to me I just disrespected her massively, it didn't help it started burning her eyes and she couldn't keep them open. We instantly started scrambling to find something to get it off her face and after we got her all cleaned up I apologized alot lol. She said it was fine she knew I wanted to try it but we both agreed not to do it again cause obviously she didn't like it either. Morale of the story for me, not everything you see in porn will translate to real life.

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-1
Anonymous
@confessions
27 Jun 2007 8:58PM
• 1,195 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 28 replies ]

I feel so horible ab this i had sex with a girl after my fiancee broke up with me...and then we were talking ab getting back together and we were still messing around...and really didnt think after the 1st time she would have gotten back together with me...and wen i got home from out of town i told her wht happened and she said there was no way of us getting back together now and i was going to call her and leave a msg on her phone while i took sum pills but she answerd the phone and stoped me...and i kno i didnt technicly cheat on her but i still feel horrible ab it...and she wont stop asking questions ab it...(we r back together now...)

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-3
EmilyLust
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@confessions
17 Aug 2023 5:59PM
• 464 views • 1 attachment
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I can't sleep at night I keep waking up.. yes I know myMaster got all the tools to break me.. but I keep wondering is that what he craves more than having me do kinky things for Him.. tomorrow is festival thing and I.. yes You broke meDevil and i am in hell worried more than mad or something like that.. keep feeling my hair one you like me to grow.. caressing my shoulders and I keep begging and praying that that wasn't all.. that I'II know regardless is everything okay.. and that regardless of everything my Master will allow me to have that rule and I keep on hoping that it was You commenting one of my posts.. Devil you know i fell on my knees and fell in love with my Master don't punish me for that regardless of how it is.. just ease my mind.. yes You make me cry and suffer wasn't that always what Devil liked.. don't refuse my desire to please even if it's fucked up.. don't take away my begging.. it feels like ages.. let me keep the rule. Regardless that You have me for eternity because You do, broken or not my Master have me.. let me keep the rule.. can't be I earned nothing.. i miss dont You just a bit? And yes You broke Your toy just because You can.. i am fucked up with You and for some reason staying there with my Master.. i fucked them and not just that just because i was begging for Your attention. will You be that cruel.. I just want to hear You are okay at end of the day.. I can't sleep or think or... my Master liked when I cried while having an orgasm when He was away.. Devil I only beg for a bit of my air please stop torturing me..
I know Devil likes my tears but Your slave just begs for Your attention a bit of it Master.. it feels so horrible will You have mercy on me?
please my Lord fix Your doll

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23
Anonymous
@soapbox
14 Nov 2012 8:33PM
• 7,228 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 91 replies ]

You didn't get mad when the Supreme Court stopped a legal recount and appointed a p********.

You didn't get mad when Cheney allowed Energy company officials to dictate
energy policy.

You didn't get mad when a covert CIA operative got outed.

You didn't get mad when the Patriot Act got passed.

You didn't get mad when we illegally invaded a country that posed no threat to us.

You didn't get mad when we spent over 600 billion(and counting) on said illegal war.

You didn't get mad when over 10 billion dollars just disappeared in Iraq.

You didn't get mad when you found out we were torturing people.

You didn't get mad when the government was illegally wiretapping Americans.

You didn't get mad when we didn't catch Bin Laden.

You didn't get mad when you saw the horrible conditions at Walter Reed.

You didn't get mad when we let a major US city, New Orleans, drown.

You didn't get mad when we gave a 900 billion tax break to the rich.

You didn't get mad when the deficit hit the trillion dollar mark.

You finally got mad when the government decided that people in America deserved the right to see a doctor if they are sick. Yes, illegal wars, lies, corruption, torture, stealing your tax dollars to make the rich richer, are all okay with you, but helping other Americans...well fuck that. That about right? You know it is.

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YellowPotatoes
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@confessions
14 Feb 2025 12:31AM
• 508 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 7 replies ]

Stuff That One Might Worry About at Work


I am 56 years old. And i have the pleasure of working with a lot of wonderful young adults. :) I have a nice little job working banquets, waitering, dishing and such.

I no longer have nightmares about federal agents with guns coming after me. [Agents in the "Criminal Investigation" section of the IRS carry guns. Kind of serious, methinks.] I am no longer in the field of income tax.

I do still work, of course!! :) But it's not stressful!!! :) I never worry about work!!!

After work i leave and forget about it!! :) i go have a drink or two. And i'll eat dinner. :) Play on the internet. Then eventually go to sleep.

I do not lie awake in bed at night dreading about the horrible catastrophes that might happen at work tomorrow. I sleep peacefully. Life is good.

Anyways, one of my young co workers, 30, made a bad decision and left work to do an errand. Didn't tell anyone. Didn't clock out. That was wrong.

She is a single mom. And has a lot on her plate. But i will not claim that excuses her!

I'm going to go speak to the head guy tomorrow. Thinking that i'll immediately acknowledge that what she did was wrong. She's definitely in the wrong. She needs to be told that she was wrong.

But then maybe recognize "it's a shame. Because you're a hard worker and you're recognized and appreciated by your co workers. And it would be a shame to lose a strong worker."

My comments might help a bad situation. Or the might not have any effect. So be it.

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Anonymous
@confessions
30 Jan 2013 5:46PM
• 7,160 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 25 replies ]

I am a dirty lil cumslut. I have tried alot (all the variations of the threesome, orgies, piss play, etc), and nowadays there's not much left on my sexual bucketlist. But there are a couple of things left. First and foremost...

One of the first few times I gave head, I found out that the guy I blew told everyone that i was horrible at it. I made it my goal after that to become the queen of deepthroat, and I succeeded in mastering the technique. I have always wanted to see how many guys i can suck off at a glory hole, but i have never been able to find one. My boyfriend (who is extremely kinky himself, and encourages my slutty tendencies) travels all over illinois for work, and we live in wisconsin close to madison. Does anyone know of any gloryholes in my area (illinois and wisconsin)?

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Anonymous
@confessions
23 May 2013 7:23PM
• 102 views • 2 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 59 replies ]

I confess I have a question for all our English mates: Are you ever embarrassed to be English? Just curious. I would be.

I don't think your embarrassment is your fault, necessarily. It's not really your fault that you talk the goofy way you do or have such huge, ugly teeth that don't even fit right into your tiny mouths. And it's not your fault that you have truly horrible, inedible cuisine despised the world over or that the entire EU laughs at you and thinks you're all faggots (the cock loving type, not your stupid little bundle of twigs).

Anyway, I was just wondering about this. I pray for all of you, everyday, and sincerely hope your skeevy little island with all its precious royal leeches doesn't sink anytime soon.

Cheers!

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Anonymous
@confessions
03 Dec 2009 10:19PM
• 4,002 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 21 replies ]

about 2 weeks ago the principal of my school wanted to talk about, when we are going to get the swine flu shot. so all the students had to come at the auditorium, when i was sitting listening at the principal, there was a girl sitting in from of me and when she turned around to see someone sitting next to me. i had realize that i had seen this girl in a video here in mlps.pika777.eu.org

here's the video

unknown upload
she's that one with the glasses.
here's another one
upload deleted

should i take advantage of her.
i can tell her to show me her tits and if she refuses i can tell all the school about her video.

should i do it or not. i want to, but i would feel like a horrible person if i do that

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Anonymous
@confessions
19 Jan 2013 2:46PM
• 10,705 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 28 replies ]

Okay so I used to date this girl Hannah (in the pic). When I got with her she was totally innocent, a virgin. Not bragging but I was her first. I know it's out of place to say this on Motherless but it actually was a beautiful.

We broke up when she went to uni. After a year of being away she came back and honestly, she looks like she's aged a thousand years. She's got a fucking horrible tattoo, there's pics of her on facebook partying with i have no idea how many guys, and bad attitude and is really just a bitch.

So this is a example of what can happen to a good girl when she falls into the wrong crowd.

Pictures were taken one year apart.

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vprincessv
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@confessions
16 Jan 2024 6:18PM
• 473 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 3 replies ]

Horribly disappointed in lack of cuckquean content. Why is it so hard getting off to the thought of my bf fucking another girl? It’s just all the same recycled vids or editing to make it look like the guy’s railing someone else when it’s the same girl. Help :(

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Anonymous
@soapbox
16 Dec 2009 9:31AM
• 1,779 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 37 replies ]

In this day and age, Why does anyone smoke anymore?

It doesn't taste good

Your fingers turn yellow

Your teeth turn brown

You smell horrible

People around you smell horrible.

You get cancer.

You are lower then pedos.

You are weak and can't control yourself.

Weaklings.

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Anonymous
@confessions
11 Mar 2012 12:27AM
• 206 views • 0 attachments
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Dear Motherless...can you please not accept any of the gruesome pics that some idiots heartless assholes post...or it will be great if you took them out completely from your website that will be great. Some of you maynot agree with me but this is a great website so lets keep it that way without those horrible pix. and i dont know who the heartless asshole in motherless that approves those kind of stuff.
People i am not talking about the porn stuff, i am talking about the violence, beheade, etc stuff. Some of our memebers or vistors may not agree with me, but its nothing amusing about seeing someone hurting another person, and if you see anything that is amusing about gruesome pix or gifs, then you are one special heartless motherfucker asshole who needs to get help from just about anyone.

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Anonymous
@confessions
11 Mar 2012 1:12AM
• 1,582 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 12 replies ]

I just encountered a site with lots of real old and felt horribly disgusted even though I thought I would like it. Guess I'm a moralfag :-(

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MonkeySlaveGirl
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@soapbox
15 Apr 2015 7:50PM
• 3,615 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 16 replies ]

ok... this post is about "Racial terms" and political correctness... I am a black woman as is rather obvious from my profile.. and i feel like when it comes to race and racial terms people really need to stop walking on eggshells... i am sure the same can be said for other races in many ways.. like "again Americans".. but that is rarely used and prefer to stick to what i know... over the years we(blacks) as a race has been called many things nigger, negro, colored, black, etc, and through the years what is considered "offensive" keeps changing.. there was a time that "nigger" was not even an offensive slur.. it was just what we were.. used in a similar fashion as "black" or "African American" is used today... in fact it is derived from "negro" which in Spanish literally MEANS "black" these only reason is it considered so offensive now is because of history...

My question is why does this term have to keep changing.. why does any term that seems to call out the fact that we are in fact "different" seem to eventually become offensive... we ARE "different" and different is NOT a bad thing it just is...

A square is a square and a circle is a circle but the circle doesnt get offended when you point out its a circle not a square because it IS a friggen' circle! also because its inanimate i suppose... lol but still! how many time have we changed the names of colors or or anything else that is generally "Different" but terms for "people" keep changing


Personally... i prefer almost anything to "African American" this is what we are "supposed" to be called today that term to me is a gross generalization and trying WAY to hard to be PC while failing miserably at it.. it is hypocrisy in a word... you are going to try to be politically correct by saying we are all the same? what about blacks from Jamaica or any of the other primarily black countries? what about blacks born in the US? i may be of Nigerian decent but i sure as hell have never seen Africa...

Now... i could understand calling a black person who CAME FROM AFRICA and African american... but once they get their green card aren't they just an american?...

further more what are we suppose to cal a WHITE person from Africa? who comes to america? there ARE plenty of white people in Africa, wouldn't they be an African american too? and if so then using the term for blacks as a whole looses all meaning... the term "African american" for us as a race is like the most ridiculous term for us yet and think my arguments well support that fact...

the way i see it we all need to lighten up an except that fact that we are NOT the same we are ALL different and different is NOT a bad thing variety is the spice of life embrace it, be who and what you are and pull that stick out of you god damn ass... unless you are into it.. who am I to judge... lol

and with that... this Nigger/Negro/Colored/Black/African-American's rant is over.. i would be curious to hear your thoughts to please don't be shy and PLEASE don't tip toe there are no "egg shells" here... :)

P.S.

the pic is of a woman who was horribly offended whens he got a couch shipped in from china labeled as "nigger brown" it was meant to be "dark brown" and they had no idea the word "nigger" in English was supposed to be offensive... there was a story published about it a while back...

-All edging and no cumming makes Monkey a good girl-
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@confessions
23 May 2014 7:05PM
• 16 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 1 reply ]

I love that all these guys on here post pics of their nasty ass Gf's and think that we're going to oooh and aww over them and once a flaw is posted about them like the last nasty GF that obviously had a horrible yeast infection they pull them down. ....lmfao!

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hello_kinky
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@confessions
05 Feb 2013 2:57AM
• 6,117 views • 0 attachments
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my sexual abuse still makes me wet, here is it:

i started studying Chinese when i was 13. throughout high school i became very good at at 15 my parents sent me to learn in beijing. i stayed with a host family who had their grandpa living their. he offered to teach me calligraphy. every second or so evening i would go upstairs to the loft style attic for a calligraphy lesson. he used to put a screen up in front of the door, probably in case anyone came in. it started out that i would knee and write while he sat behind me, with the front of his body touching my back, he would genuinely want to help me study in the beginning.

eventually he used to hold my hips or just under my breasts when he sat behind me. one night he started massaging me during my lesson and eventually was massage my breasts and nipples. i hate to admit it but i used to get very sexually aroused and i am still trying to cope with that and sometimes even become aroused when i remember my assault :(

after a month or so he began to tickle me with a calligraphy brush and eventually convinced me to take my clothes off so that he could 'tickle me better'. our lessons eventually just dissolved into my coming into the loft and lying down naked while he 'massaged' my breasts and public mound/hip area and then tickled my labia/clit with this calligraphy brush. he never had sex with me, i think he was unable to get an erection for that, but sometimes he would put one of the brush cases inside of my vagina and essentially rape me with me. again, i didn't refuse it, i remember being scared but also very sexually aroused. it was very confusing and i didn't tell anyone.
only a few days before i was scheduled to leave Beijing, after 'tickling me' he asked me to do the same to him. he eventually convinced me to give him a hand job and a blow job, only he couldn't get an erection. he made me lie on the floor and touch my vagina while he watched, he must have gotten hard somehow because he eventually ejaculated onto my vagina. i was pretty sexually sheltered and had never seen cum before. it really scared me. i felt like i was going to be sick. he got me some tissues and cuddled and kissed me on the floor. i really felt horrible like i needed to run or run away from him. after i got back to my home country i became scared of even being in a room with a older man. i still have not told anyone what has happened to me. this is the first time i have even written anything about it.

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@requests
25 Dec 2011 8:56PM
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motherless can you please take out the gruesome pics out of your websites...some members really posting some horrible gruesome pics. admans HELLO there can you do something about it...how can you accept those kind of uploads.

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@confessions
25 Feb 2013 2:41PM
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I confess, I had some real good sex friday night. Chatted this Filipina girl up on a datingsite, who by accident works as a housemaid very close to the place I live. Long story short - I ended up fucking her in my bed all night - she was quite inexperienced, but damn she was tight and horny - only downside she gave a horrible BJ...

I think I hit a fucking goldore...tomorrow I have a date with another fillipina from same datingsite, who lives close to me...fucking hell - I love stupid asian sluts...cheers

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@soapbox
20 Nov 2011 10:38AM
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The American Auto Industry is on its last legs. They just cannot manufacture quality cars. The trucks manufactured by GM and Ford are stellar, but Washington and Obama want to cap emissions even more strongly going forward, which could be the final nail in the US Auto Manufacturer�s coffin.

What is the most prominent reason people don�t want to buy American? The reasons are mixed, but this article provides a major insight into the reality that is the American Automobile. They don�t last, and consequently, their resale value is nil.

Examining this article from Edmunds, the only car in the top 10 for resale value that is from America is the Chevy Corvette. And within several years, some American cars have devalued as much as 70% in value. Why? Nobody wants them because the quality is horrible.

The top ten rated cars for residual value are all Japanese and German! More sad is the fact that the bottom 10 are all American.

Bottom line, if you want to lose your shirt on your car and end up with an inverted loan owing more than the car is worth just as you want to sell it, buy American. If you want strong trade in value and the ability to get a new car when you need one, buy Japanese or German. It is that simple.

We implore Obama, don�t bail American Auto Maker�s out any more! Instead hire the Japanese to show GM, Ford and Chrysler how to make a car. Or just fold the US auto industry leaving it to manufacture only trucks. It is their only real hope.

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@confessions
02 Aug 2012 4:55PM
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I am going to use my secret weapon.

It will turn the entire world and everything in it computer files.

I will then delete everything I deem unworthy.

Cleansing this horrible planet.

Allowing for a brighter future.

And a society run by intellectuals.

Such as myself.

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@confessions
15 Mar 2009 12:20AM
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During my totally twisted and immoral days in college, after consuming lots of PGA punch, I slipped my date up to my room, got both of us naked, found out she was having her period, pulled the tampon out by its string with my teeth, and ate pussy and fucked for hours. The next morning we both looked like extras on the set of "The Night of the Living Dead".

It took years for me to stop thinking that menstrual blood causes horrible hangovers (LOL) And yeah, it really did happen.

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@hookups
08 May 2025 1:35AM
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I need help beating my record of taking seven big dick in one day! 10 loads in my pussy 5 in my asshole and 2 guy came in my throat and I swallow cum horrible. I bet it’s great to watch!

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@random
19 Mar 2021 12:38PM
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Be horrible

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@chicks
04 Jan 2015 9:47PM
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what horrible things would you do to these otherwise innocent girls

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@confessions
24 Nov 2015 1:58AM
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so over the weekend i went to a friends party. my friends sister was there and she had some friends over. we all were drinking and my friends sister and i were flirting all night. so as everyone and we are talking in the kitchen and she sits on my lap. at this point people are leaving or sleeping. i start getting handsy and start kissing her. we end up going outside to my car and fuck.

she is like 5'2, guatemalan, small tits cute ass shaved everywhere.

all of this wouldnt be a problem except for two things: 1) its my friends sister (not really concerned about that, kind of funny actually) 2) i just celebrated my 4 year anniversary with my gf. we are long distance so thats why she wasnt around.

basically after, i had no regrets really, just want to fuck her again. i feel horrible for this though because im not feeling super guilty about it all.

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@random
13 Apr 2012 9:28AM
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I just ate white caste last night.. now today I've had horrible gas. i mean my stomach cramps up and I let out hot dense gas. its wreaks of white castle burgers and now im hungry again.. why cant anyway eat WC without having the horrid after affects....???? oh god here comes more gass......wqfoehfoffjasjfdkbasdjkbasdn

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@chicks
21 May 2014 4:49AM
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this is my cumpig sister slut. I stole this pic off her computer. Tell me how you would abuse my dirty cunt sister and what horrible things you would do to the slut.

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@requests
25 Dec 2012 8:40PM
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Is there anybody here with a fake facebook account who is good at getting sluts to give up nude pics? I have a few girls (yes they are hot)who I want to ruin because of the horrible shit these cunts do. Anybody out there who think they can pull off such a task? I can't because I wouldnt be able to make a convincing facebook page. Adding friends and having updates to make it look official etc...Id be willing to return the favor.

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@random
05 May 2014 2:07PM
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Un texte parmi ceux publiés sur : http://cafeaphrodite.blogspot.fr/

16 heures pile ; Élodie entra dans le vieil immeuble, le cœur serré. Il ne fallait pas qu’elle se rate ; ces saletés d’intraveineuses lui portaient peine, et justement ce nouveau patient en attendait une. Elle en tremblait presque ; elle finissait ses études d’infirmière et, à presque 21 ans, espérait décrocher son diplôme.

Depuis trois jours, elle était en stage dans un centre de soins, son dernier stage, primordial, de fin d’études. Les jours précédents s’étaient mal passés ; elle avait travaillé en doublon dans le centre avec une vieille infirmière hargneuse, elle était trop anxieuse, l’ambiance était mauvaise, en plus. Alors elle rentrait chez elle et pleurait sur l’épaule de son mari. Éric n’avait pas de travail ; il déprimait car il ne trouvait rien (serveur en restaurant), sauf de petits boulots au noir ; et il devait consoler sa jeune femme quand elle craquait.

Étant stagiaire, elle n’avait pas le droit de pratiquer seule, pas encore. L’infirmière qu’elle devait seconder s’était blessée ce matin, et sa responsable – une pète-sec qui l’avait dans le collimateur depuis son arrivée – lui avait dit de faire la visite seule et de ne pas faire de vagues. C’était la première fois qu’elle sortait du centre et travaillait seule, alors c’était l’angoisse.

Pas facile, quand on est en stage de probation, de rester calme, polie, de réussir tous les actes médicaux prescrits. Elle tremblait un peu en sonnant à la porte, sa sacoche à la main. Un homme a ouvert, l’air revêche. Elle a reculé en le voyant : un visage patibulaire sur un corps imposant qui emplissait tout le cadre de la porte.

— Bonjour, je suis l’infirmière, je viens pour la première injection.

— Ouais ! Putain, ils envoient des gamines maintenant ! Enfin, entre, petite.

— Merci, Monsieur.

L’appartement sentait le renfermé alors qu’on était fin mai et qu’il faisait un temps superbe. Il l’a conduite dans un séjour miteux, encombré de linge sale, d’assiettes, verres, cartons à pizza, cannettes et bouteilles de bière. Un taudis, ou pas loin. Il s’est assis en soupirant dans un vieux fauteuil, le seul à n’être pas encombré. Elodie a fait un peu de place sur la table pour préparer la seringue puis s’est tournée vers lui. Il avait autour de 50 ans sûrement, sale, négligé ; il portait un marcel blanc à trous d’une propreté douteuse sur un bermuda à fleurs, d’où dépassaient ses membres épais et couverts d’une épaisse forêt de poils noirs. Un gorille.

Fébrilement, elle a désinfecté, posé un garrot en caoutchouc, et cherché une veine. Pas évident, même après avoir allumé le lustre. La fébrilité la gagnait ; il ne fallait pas qu’elle se loupe : la pète-sec n’attendait que ça pour la virer et soigner son rapport, ce qui serait désastreux pour l’obtention du diplôme. En désespoir de cause, elle examina le poignet et le dos de la main : trop velu ! Elle se résigna à piquer au pli du coude, et évidemment traversa la veine, provoquant un hématome. De plus en plus gros quand elle retira l’aiguille et enleva le garrot.

— Pardon, Monsieur, je l’ai ratée ; je vais la faire au bras droit.

— Et voilà, on envoie des gamines faire les piqûres, elles sont pas foutues de faire leur boulot ! Je vais appeler ton service et me plaindre.

— Je vous en prie, ne faites pas ça, ils vont me saquer. C’était pas facile à faire, avec tous ces poils…

— Dis que c’est ma faute, en plus ! Te gêne pas surtout ! Tu vas comprendre, je vais t’assaisonner !

Élodie pleurnichait, sa seringue à la main. La cata ! C’était un stage qui avait mal commencé, et maintenant…

— S’il vous plaît, laissez-moi vous faire la piqûre, je ferai attention, je vous promets.

— Moi, je vais faire des photos de mon bras et obtenir une incapacité de travail ; ensuite, je l’enverrai à ton patron.

En pleurnichant, elle a tant bien que mal réussi l’injection, puis a remballé son matériel, décomposée, prête à craquer. En plus, elle sentait que le regard de l’homme avait changé : il la reluquait d’un œil obscène. Quand elle s’est tournée vers lui pour lui dire au revoir, elle a vu que ses yeux quittaient ses fesses pour se fixer sur sa poitrine qui gonflait son chemisier blanc. Malgré tout, elle a tendu sa main, pour l’amadouer, en tentant un pauvre sourire. Il l’a saisie dans sa grande patte velue, les yeux rivés sur sa poitrine, ne paraissant pas vouloir la lâcher.

— Tu reviens demain à la même heure ; je veux que ce soit toi qui me suives à partir de maintenant. Et arrange-toi pour réussir tes piqûres. Mon dossier de plainte sera prêt à être envoyé, je te le montrerai. Après, je veux que tu fasses le ménage chez moi, sinon il part. Fous le camp.

Elle est partie en pleurant ; le quart d’heure de trajet en voiture jusque chez elle ne l’a pas calmée. Éric, son mari, l’a reçue dans ses bras où elle a sangloté de plus belle. D’une voix cassée, elle lui a raconté ses déboires et la proposition de son patient.

— Il veut que tu fasses son ménage ? C’est tout ? Ce n’est pas cher payé s’il abandonne son idée, tu sais. Je peux aller lui parler pour qu’il comprenne qu’on est déjà dans la panade. Il te paiera, en plus, si tu travailles chez lui.

— Tu verrais comment il est, Éric, il est sale, répugnant, et il est vieux !

— Ma chérie, calme-toi, il ne va pas te violer, quand même.

— C’est pas ça, mais il me regardait d’un œil si vicieux, j’ai eu honte. J’étais en jupe et chemisier, il me déshabillait du regard, le gros porc.

— Il a quel âge, cet homme ?

— Je ne sais pas, ce n’est pas sur mon dossier ici, mais 50 ans, à peu près…

— Ma chérie, toi qui m’as dit que tu fantasmais sur les vieux…

— Ce n’est pas le moment de plaisanter avec ça, tu sais !

— Tu as une petite culotte ? Montre ça…

— Non ! Fiche-moi la paix, bon sang ! Je suis complètement sur les rotules à cause de notre situation, et toi, tout ce que tu trouves à faire…

— Oui, en effet ! Tu as l’occasion de réaliser ton fantasme de faire l’amour avec un homme plus âgé, en même temps que tu l’empêches de te nuire, alors réfléchis un peu.

— Tu crois ce que tu dis ? C’est du chantage, et tu veux faire de moi une pute !

— C’est ce que je dis en effet, tes fantasmes de prostitution et de l’homme âgé, tu les as depuis longtemps, on en a parlé souvent. Et puis tu exagères, tu n’as pas à te prostituer, seulement à faire le ménage, en petite tenue sûrement.

— Je ne sais plus, tu crois qu’on est coincés ? J’ai complètement raté l’intraveineuse, je vais être virée.

— Non, chérie, on peut pas se le permettre… Tu es mouillée, dis donc !

— Arrête, Éric, c’est tes histoires. Je t’ai juré fidélité, on est mariés depuis un an. Et puis tu verrais ce type, il est répugnant, velu comme un singe… Oh ! Arrête !

Il avait soulevé la jupe et, les deux mains dans sa petite culotte, il pétrissait ses jolies fesses ; son corps réagissait, elle réalisait qu’elle mouillait abondamment. Dans la chambre, il lui enleva juste sa culotte à l’entrejambe poisseuse et la pénétra dès qu’il eut sorti sa verge de son pantalon baissé sur ses cuisses. Il était si excité qu’il s’est vidé très vite, trop vite, laissant Élodie sur sa faim. La nuit, elle eut du mal à trouver le sommeil, repensant à sa journée pourrie, à ce qu’avait dit son mari. C’était horrible : il acceptait qu’elle se donne à un inconnu ; en plus il était répugnant, cet homme.

Vieux, velu, sale. Tout du gros dégueulasse ! Elle avait glissé une main sous sa chemise de nuit, et posé la main sur son pubis, caressant les fins poils soyeux qui le recouvraient, constatant avec surprise qu’elle était toute mouillée. Elle pensa à cet homme ; il était énorme, un gorille, elle si menue, blondinette, à côté de lui, dans ses bras, sous lui qui la pénétrait… Elle secoua la tête. « Rêver de ça, faut que tu sois en manque, ma pauvre fille. »

Il faut dire que son mariage avec Éric n’avait pas tenu toutes ses promesses. Déjà elle s’était plus ou moins fâchée avec ses parents qui ne l’aimaient pas, Éric avait perdu son travail depuis trois mois et ne trouvait pas, mais Élodie avait bien vu qu’il avait refusé des postes ; il lui faisait l’amour moins souvent, fantasmant plus qu’il n’agissait.

Éric était plutôt fluet, pas très grand ni très gros, 1,69 m et 62 kg, brun aux yeux marrons, le corps lisse quasiment sans poil, un peu efféminé. Ce qui avait plu à Élodie, c’était sa douceur, son calme. Avant de se rendre compte que c’était en fait de la mollesse, un manque de caractère. Alors qu’elle avait été attirée, dans son adolescence, par les hommes mûrs et virils.

Élodie était une belle jeune femme blonde, élégante, d’une taille de 1,66 m pour 50 kg, fine et sportive, avec une jolie poitrine bien pleine qui attirait les regards masculins. Quand elle faisait son footing, presque tous les matins, en petit short et brassière assortie, les hommes la suivaient des yeux avec convoitise.

Et voilà où elle en était, frustrée, insatisfaite dans sa vie amoureuse, stressée et malmenée dans sa vie professionnelle. Comment allait-elle pouvoir se sortir de ce mauvais pas avec son patient ? La politique de l’autruche semblait la pire des solutions. Elle s’endormit enfin pour une courte nuit de sommeil.

Sa journée se passa comme dans le brouillard, elle était insensible aux piques des collègues comme aux remarques désobligeantes de la responsable. Juste avant de partir chez le patient, à 15 h 30, elle alla se rafraîchir le visage dans les toilettes, et s’examina dans le grand miroir sur la porte.

Ce matin, elle avait mis une petite jupe brun sombre de coupe droite qui laissait voir ses genoux, un chemisier crème, portés sur un tanga blanc à dentelle et un soutien-gorge assorti, et elle avait choisi des escarpins à talons hauts de 7 cm, à peine confortables mais d’une couleur crème assortie au chemisier.

C’est le visage empourpré qu’elle sonna à la porte, qui s’ouvrit immédiatement ; il devait l’avoir vue arriver.

— C’est bien, tu es à l’heure. Sinon j’aurais dû te punir. Entre.

— Bonjour, Monsieur. Pour le courrier, vous avez réfléchi ? Je vous en prie.

— J’ai même un certificat médical : mon médecin m’a affirmé que tu seras radiée de l’ordre des infirmières ; en tout cas, ta carrière sera finie avant de commencer.

— Ne faites pas ça, s’il vous plaît, je ferai tout ce que vous voudrez, je vous le promets…

— Tu as dit « tout » ? Tu m’intéresses, là. Et tu me fais la promesse ?

— Oui, je vous promets de faire tout ce que vous voulez. Je ne peux pas finir mes études comme ça, ce n’est pas possible !

— Et tu feras tout pendant combien de temps ?

— Euh… Ce soir ?

— Non, ce n’est pas suffisant. J’ai des soins sur 10 jours, donc jusqu’à leur fin ; c’est à prendre ou à laisser.

— Bon, d’accord, je n’ai pas le choix.

— Bon ; pour commencer, tu vas me faire la piqûre en sous-vêtements.

Élodie a baissé la tête sans répondre, sachant qu’elle était coincée. Elle déboutonna lentement son chemisier et le posa sur un dossier de chaise, dégrafa le côté de sa jupe qu’elle enjamba et plaça sur le chemisier. Les joues rouges, elle s’affaira pour préparer l’injection, évitant le regard goguenard de l’homme. Dans cette situation éprouvante pour ses nerfs, elle réussit la piqûre à la perfection. Pour la féliciter, il lui empoigna les fesses à deux mains en baissant sa culotte, et la tira contre lui, lui léchant le torse d’une langue baveuse.

— Tu préfèrerais pas l’avoir dans ta chatte, ma grosse langue ? Viens avec moi, ma petite salope.

Il la fit entrer dans une chambre où régnait un désordre indescriptible : lit défait, vêtements entassés, sales ou non, verres, cannettes, bouteilles.

— Allez, enlève ta culotte, puis sur le lit ; et écarte les cuisses pour bibi… Putain, une vraie blonde avec une petite touffe ! Demain, je veux que tu sois épilée ; plus un seul poil sur la motte, tu entends ?

— Mais, je ne… Et mon mari, comment je vais lui expliquer ?

— Je m’en fous : t’auras qu’à lui dire que c’est pour lui que tu l’as fait. Putain, tu es mouillée, grosse salope, t’as envie que je te lèche la chatte ! J’y crois pas.

Il avait plongé en avant et sa langue épaisse a commencé à glisser sur la fente rose et humide ; Élodie a soupiré, son corps en manque tremblait et se tendait, et ce fut pire quand il aspira dans sa bouche les lèvres intimes dans un bruit obscène. Elle poussa un cri en jouissant, surprise par le trop-plein d’émotions dû à son état de manque. Il se releva, satisfait, et exhiba une verge épaisse, noueuse et sentant mauvais, un mélange de sperme, sueur et urine ; il la guida entre les lèvres intimes trempées et poussa, s’enfonçant facilement malgré son diamètre.

Élodie ne songea même pas à s’y opposer. Submergée par ses émotions, elle noua ses jambes fines autour du torse de son amant, réalisant qu’elle ne se rappelait même plus de son nom ni de son prénom. Elle serra les dents quand l’homme commença à se retirer pour plonger dans son vagin peu habitué à un pareil engin. Le gros ventre l’écrasait sur le lit défait ; il devait peser le double de son mari, et sa verge, ma foi, était bien raide, épaisse et longue.

Il souleva son soutien-gorge pour empoigner ses seins, les tordant et faisant saillir les mamelons turgescents, tout en la prenant de plus en plus fort ; elle entendit un gémissement continu avant de réaliser qu’il sortait de sa gorge, et lorsqu’il se planta profondément pour éjaculer, elle jouit à nouveau.

Quand elle reprit ses esprits, quelques secondes plus tard, il pesait sur elle, sa verge toujours aussi raide profondément plantée dans son vagin. Elle plissa le nez une nouvelle fois à cause de son odeur et tenta de le repousser sur le côté.

— Alors, petite puce, le gros Franck t’a fait grimper aux rideaux ? Tu as aimé, ma salope : tu couinais comme une truie quand je te ramonais. Allez, je te laisse ; on remettra le couvert dans un moment. Va travailler un peu !

Élodie put enfin se lever ; elle constata que son vagin dégorgeait son trop-plein de sperme sur le drap sale. C’est toute nue qu’elle fit le ménage ; en premier, elle remplit trois grands sacs poubelle avec tous les déchets qui jonchaient le séjour et la cuisine. Elle dut les sortir sur le palier avant de lancer une lessive de vêtements et sous-vêtements souillés, puis vaisselle. Elle travailla trois heures sans relâche sous le regard concupiscent de Franck, assis nu dans un fauteuil, qui lui mettait la main aux fesses, voire plongeait des doigts dans son vagin.

À sa honte, elle n’était pas insensible à ses attouchements ; ses mamelons étaient durs et tendus, et quand il se leva, la verge gonflée, violacée, couverte de semence séchée, elle s’approcha de lui, tête baissée. Il la toisa en ricanant, se masturba en caressant ses grosses couilles velues.

— Alors, petite chienne, tu as envie de te faire baiser ? On dirait que tu n’attends que ça. Avec ta gueule de sainte-nitouche, tu trompes bien ton monde. Si tu veux ma bite, tu n’as que le demander.

— S’il vous plaît…

— Quoi ? Tu la veux, ma grosse bite ? Dis-le, merde !

— Oui, prenez-moi, je vous en prie…

— Caresse ta moule, fourre des doigts dans ta chatte, salope, écarte bien… Voilà, c’est bien, tu n’es qu’une chienne en chaleur.

Il la poussa contre le fauteuil et la pénétra aussitôt jusqu’à la garde ; elle était trempée et brûlante. Franck la besognait méthodiquement ; sa grosse bite trapue remplissait bien le vagin serré d’Élodie qui haletait, les mains crispées sur les accoudoirs, projetée en avant à chaque poussée. Elle jouit alors qu’il grognait et accélérait la cadence ; elle le sentit se vider en elle, remplissant sa matrice de semence épaisse.

— Allez, à genoux, nettoie ma bite, salope, vite !

— Pas ça, s’il vous plaît, c’est sale.

— Tu veux ma main dans la gueule ? C’est ta mouille et mon sperme, tu va tout bien nettoyer avec ta langue ! À genoux ! Bien, tu vois, tu t’y mets…

Surmontant son dégoût, Élodie a commencé à passer sa langue sur la verge gluante, songeant qu’elle avait toujours refusé ça à son mari. Malgré l’odeur d’urine et de négligé, elle finit par gober le gland et aspirer le sexe flasque et le nettoyer soigneusement. Gauche, elle se releva et regarda Franck, incertaine sur la conduite à tenir.

— Je voudrais me doucher, maintenant.

— Tu feras ça chez toi. Il est quelle heure ? 20 heures 10 ? Allez, fous le camp ; pas la peine de mettre de culotte demain, ni de soutif d’ailleurs.

— D’accord.

Il lui donna une petite gifle sèche. Pas très douloureuse, mais humiliante.

— Tu m’appelleras « Monsieur ». Compris ?

— Oui, Monsieur.

— Fous le camp. Et demain, sois à l’heure.

Élodie est rentrée chez elle au radar ; son mari lui a ouvert la porte et l’a examinée de la tête aux pieds. Consciente d’être sale, couverte de sueur, les cuisses poisseuses de semence, elle le poussa pour se précipiter dans la salle d’eau où elle s’enferma. La douche lui remit les idées en place en même temps qu’elle nettoya son corps. Quand elle sortit, enveloppée dans une grande serviette de bain, Éric l’attendait ; elle refusa d’aller se blottir dans ses bras et ils restèrent debout l’un en face de l’autre, comme des étrangers.

— Élodie, ça va ? J’étais inquiet ; ça s’est bien passé ?

— À ton avis ?

— Il t’a violée ? C’est ça ? Il faut porter plainte…

— Tais-toi ! Non, il ne m’a pas violée. Il m’a baisée, deux fois, et je l’ai laissé faire.

Éric la regardait d’un air apitoyé, et en même temps il bandait, de penser que sa jolie femme s’était fait prendre par un étranger. Il s’approcha d’elle tendrement et elle le laissa poser ses mains sur ses épaules et les masser.

— Tu as faim ? J’ai fait une quiche lorraine, avec de la salade…

— D’accord.

— Après, je te ferai un massage pour te déstresser, tes muscles sont tendus.

— Et puis il faut que je sois épilée entièrement.

— Entièrement ? Bon.

Élodie alla manger, songeuse. Elle savait que sa vie de couple avait pris un tournant irréversible. Éric n’était plus son partenaire sexuel unique ; il ne la satisfaisait pas, alors que Franck, cet homme grossier et sale, l’avait fait jouir plusieurs fois. Elle ne comprenait toujours pas pourquoi, d’ailleurs ; il l’avait menacée, giflée, et malgré tout elle avait réagi à ses attouchements, s’était offerte sans pudeur ; il l’avait pénétrée avec son gros sexe, l’écrasant de sa masse, l’avait besognée rudement. En y repensant, Élodie était troublée, son ventre était tout chose.

Après le repas, Éric l’a conduite sur la table de massage qu’ils avaient achetée d’occasion un an plus tôt. Sans rien dire, Élodie dénoua sa serviette et l’étendit sur la table avant de s’allonger sur le ventre, les bras le long du corps. Éric commença à verser un peu d’huile camphrée sur son dos ; il aimait la masser, mais cela arrivait trop rarement à son goût. Il commença par le haut et les épaules pour finir par les mollets et la plante des pieds, puis demanda à Élodie de passer sur le dos. Il vit tout de suite que ses bouts de seins roses étaient gonflés et durs.

Il attaqua cette fois par le bas, et s’arrêta à hauteur du pubis, couvert d’une fine toison blonde et bouclée.

— Je vais chercher l’épilateur électrique ? C’est le plus pratique pour ce que tu veux.

— D’accord, mais va doucement : c’est un peu douloureux.

Éric acquiesça, tout excité ; il épila donc soigneusement la vulve, jusqu’au périnée et entre les fesses, avant de faire les aisselles. Quand Élodie se souleva, elle examina son pubis bombé et complètement lisse, un peu rouge. Éric massa ensuite le pubis irrité, mais Élodie le repoussa quand il tenta des caresses trop poussées.

— Arrête, je suis fatiguée. Je vais me coucher.

— D’accord, ma chérie, je comprends, ne t’inquiète pas.

Élodie, épuisée, s’endormit très vite alors qu’Éric tournait dans le lit, obsédé par des images de sa femme faisant l’amour avec un autre homme, jouissant sous ses assauts. Il se masturba dans le noir sans parvenir à éjaculer. Le lendemain matin, Élodie partit sans faire de bruit car son mari dormait encore. A 16 heures, elle était chez Franck, qui lui ouvrit, pas rasé, sale et empestant la bière, vêtu en tout et pour tout d’un caleçon froissé.

— Bonjour, Monsieur.

— Entre, petite salope. Et enlève ta robe. Bien, tu m’as obéi, tu n’a rien dessous, comme une bonne petite pute. Et tu es épilée. Tu fais encore plus pute comme ça.

— Vous n’aimez pas ?

— Si, tu auras ton jus de couilles, ne t’en fais pas.

Élodie réussit à peu près sa piqûre, puis Franck la fit agenouiller devant lui. Il extirpa sa verge noueuse et se fit sucer ; comme Élodie n’était pas habituée à cette pratique, il lui donna des indications en l’insultant.

— Pauvre connasse, pas foutue de sucer ! Allez, avale, et pompe vraiment, nom de Dieu ! Je sens rien, remue ta langue ; une pute de chantier est plus douée que toi ! Allez, encore, force un peu, ça va passer. Et dégueule pas sinon je te le fais lécher. Lève-toi maintenant, je vais te baiser la chatte, ma salope ; tu as intérêt à remuer le cul.

Il la prit contre le fauteuil, elle était trempée ; voyant ça, il claqua ses fesses jusqu’à les voir rougir, puis il la tira contre lui et la souleva, bien plantée sur son mandrin, et se laissa retomber sur le fauteuil. Et il la fit monter et descendre ; Élodie gémissait, les yeux clos. La verge épaisse remplissait son vagin alors que Franck avait empoigné ses deux seins et les pétrissait, pinçant les bouts jusqu’à la faire pousser un petit cri. Ce fut cela qui la fit jouir soudain, tremblant de tous ses membres, et s’écroulant sur Franck.

Lequel se leva, la tenant toujours empalée à fond, pour aller à pas lourds dans la chambre et la poser à genoux devant le lit. La tête sur une couverture sale, elle ne bougea pas, se cambrant même pour qu’il puisse s’enfoncer mieux ; il la pilonna plusieurs minutes, ruisselant de sueur sur elle, avant de se vider en épaisses saccades qui la firent jouir à nouveau. Lorsqu’il la libéra, elle s’agenouilla d’elle-même et nettoya la verge gluante d’une langue agile.

— Je peux faire le ménage, Monsieur ?

— Oui, mais demain je te mettrai un collier de chienne, pour que tu te rappelles ce que tu es. Et ce soir, tu bosses ici jusqu’à 9 heures.

Élodie se nettoya l’entrejambe avec une grosse éponge avant d’attaquer par la cuisine, qu’elle nettoya à fond, rangeant toute la vaisselle propre avant de s’occuper de la chambre de Franck, où elle remplit deux sacs poubelle de déchets, faisant une lessive des draps, puis de vêtements. Elle nettoya entrée, couloir et séjour à un rythme soutenu, s’habituant à travailler nue sous les yeux de son employeur.

Mais elle avait à peine refait le lit qu’il la culbuta dessus et la prit sauvagement en levrette, se retirant régulièrement pour se faire sucer avant de revenir la pilonner de toutes ses forces. Quand il a senti qu’il allait éjaculer, il a fait mettre Élodie à genoux devant lui et a joui dans sa bouche ouverte, l’obligeant à avaler avant de lécher sa hampe dressée. Il la tira alors derrière lui pour la pousser sur le palier, nue et le visage maculé de sperme. Avant de lui jeter sa robe et sa mallette de soins.

— Demain, tu te mets à poil ici avant de sonner.

— D’accord ; à demain, Monsieur.

— Et demain, je t’enculerai ; tu es pucelle du cul, je parie.

— Oh non, pas ça, s’il vous plaît !

— Ta gueule ! À demain ; t’auras qu’à te lubrifier avant de venir !

Élodie rentra chez elle, fourbue et sale ; elle bouscula presque Éric pour se ruer sous la douche ; la soirée passa dans le brouillard, elle refusa de discuter avec son mari, refusa qu’il la touche et se tourna dans son coin pour dormir. Elle pensa longtemps à ce qui l’attendait le lendemain, en rêva aussi car elle se réveilla avec le minou tout humide. Elle passa sa journée en mode automatique, consciente de sa non-implication, d’exécuter les tâches confiées sans y mettre de cœur.

Arrivée sur le palier de l’appartement, elle se déshabilla rapidement et sonna, tête baissée. Il n’ouvrit pas tout de suite, la faisant patienter plusieurs minutes, angoissée à l’idée de voir passer un voisin. Il ouvrit enfin, toujours aussi sale ; il était torse nu, velu comme un singe, portant juste un slip autrefois blanc. Il la fit entrer sans un mot, lui laissa faire sa piqûre avant de lui donner une bonne gifle. Elle recula, les larmes aux yeux, ne comprenant pas.

— Pardon, Monsieur. Je vous ai fait mal ? Je suis désolée.

— Ta gueule. Tu as le cul propre ? Tu es lubrifiée ?

— Oui, un peu…

— Alors je vais t’enculer pour t’apprendre à réussir tes piqûres ; va sur le lit, à genoux, le cul vers la porte, écarte tes fesses que je puisse viser, penche-toi, la tête sur le lit…

Mortifiée, Élodie obéissait, consciente que son corps la trahissait encore une fois ; sauf que cette fois, Frank en avait après son anus, vierge encore car elle s’était toujours refusée à la sodomie. Alors elle était anxieuse, d’autant que Franck était pourvu d’un engin épais qui risquait de la déchirer. Il commença par enfoncer un doigt ; elle se crispa et il donna une bonne claque avec son autre main.

— Tu es serrée, tellement tu as la trouille ! C’est que mon doigt, alors tu te laisses faire !

Il fit lentement jouer le doigt, entrant et sortant, avant de forcer le passage avec un deuxième, arrachant un gémissement à Élodie, consciente de la posture obscène qu’elle avait. Un froid dans ses reins : il versait du lubrifiant dans la raie des fesses, le faisant pénétrer avec ses doigts dans l’orifice convoité. Il travailla patiemment l’anus, jusqu’à glisser trois gros doigts joints jusqu’à la jointure avant de présenter sa queue raide.

— Ne te crispe pas, ma salope, tu auras mal sinon. Je vais te défoncer le fion de toute manière… Là !

— Oh ! Mon Dieu, non, c’est trop gros… Oh !

— C’est rentré, alors ta gueule !

Élodie serrait les dents ; les larmes sillonnaient ses joues alors que l’épais mandrin s’enfonçait en elle, dévastant son anus distendu, la bonne lubrification permettant de coulisser parfaitement. Franck était aux anges, bien serré dans les entrailles chaudes et accueillantes ; il donna de violents coups de boutoir qui arrachèrent de nouvelles larmes à Élodie, qui tomba en avant mais resta bien cambrée, écrasée sous la masse de Franck. Ses 50 kilos avaient disparu sous les 115 kilos de Franck qui la besognait avec rudesse, lui faisant sentir chaque centimètre de son engin.

À sa surprise, elle sentait son bassin qui se tendait pour aller au devant de la queue bien raide ; elle commença à geindre, accompagnant chaque ruée d’un cri de gorge. Elle sentit monter la jouissance alors qu’il accélérait en poussant des grognements bestiaux, l’insultant et lui bavant dans le cou ; quand il se planta en elle, tétanisé, et se vida dans ses reins, elle cria et jouit à son tour. Il resta vautré sur elle un long moment, soufflant comme un phoque et inondant Élodie de sueur.

— Alors, ma petite salope, tu aimes ça, te faire défoncer la rondelle ; je me sors que tu puisses travailler un peu. Tout à l’heure, je t’en remettrai une dose dans le cul. Mais d’abord, ton collier de chienne, j’allais oublier…

Élodie travailla en continu jusqu’à 19 heures avec un large collier de cuir noir pour tout vêtement. Elle nettoya à nouveau cuisine et séjour, et cette fois s’aventura dans deux chambres qu’elle n’avait pas encore ouvertes ; Franck lui expliqua que c’étaient les chambres de ses deux fils qui revenaient le lendemain.

— Tu as intérêt à faire ça bien ; ils sont pas marrants, mes deux salopards : ils te dresseront, c’est moi qui te le dis ! Et avec une petite pute comme toi, je crois que ça va leur plaire. Je pense qu’ils partiront moins souvent faire des conneries.

— Mais… Je ne sais pas… Ce n’étais pas prévu, avec vos fils, je ne savais pas…

— Eh bien maintenant, c’est prévu ! Tu leur serviras de vide-couilles comme pour moi. Ça te pose un problème ? J’ai toujours le dossier sous le coude.

Élodie baissa la tête, matée. Plus que huit jours à obéir. Il lui fallait tenir, échapper à cet homme répugnant et réussir à décrocher son diplôme. Après, tout s’arrangerait, son couple repartirait du bon pied… Elle y croyait de moins en moins ; elle se voyait comme une balle lancée dans une pente de plus en plus forte, incapable de remonter, appelée à chuter toujours plus. Elle rentra chez elle et n’adressa pas la parole à son mari ; elle se doucha, mangea et se coucha, épuisée, pour sombrer dans un sommeil sans rêves.

Le lendemain après-midi, avant de partir chez Franck, elle prit un laxatif et se fit un lavement, puis une fois bien nettoyée injecta du lubrifiant dans son anus. Arrivée devant la porte, elle trouva le collier posé par terre ; elle se déshabilla vite et se fixa le collier avant de sonner. Quand la porte s’ouvrit, elle poussa un petit cri car ce n’était pas Franck, mais un homme nu. Un des fils, bien sûr, se rappela Élodie. La vingtaine, plus grand que son père et moins gros. Nu comme un ver ; Élodie eut son regard attiré malgré elle sur sa virilité ; à moitié bandée, c’était une colonne de chair violacée qui pendait sur des testicules velus.

Elle eut le temps de se dire qu’il était aussi velu que son père quand il la tira contre lui et l’embrassa sur la bouche, les mains empoignant ses fesses et les pétrissant. Elle réalisa qu’elle était trempée quand il la souleva un peu pour planter son dard épais dans sa chatte, la laissant s’empaler d’elle-même. Elle défaillit sous l’assaut soudain. Elle se faisait prendre sur le palier par un homme qu’elle n’avait jamais vu, dont elle ne connaissait même pas le nom ! Et ce fut pire encore quand elle sentit contre ses fesses ce qui ne pouvait qu’être une autre verge bandée.

— Non, pas comme ça, s’il vous plaît ! Pas ici, pas sur le palier… Ah ! Non, j’ai mal, c’est trop gros ! Vous allez me déchirer, par pitié…

Évidemment, les deux hommes restaient sourds à ses supplications et la pauvre Élodie subissait sa première double pénétration. Ils la soulevaient par les hanches et la laissaient retomber, s’empalant jusqu’à la garde sur les deux gros mandrins ; elle poussait un cri de gorge à chaque fois mais ne protestait plus ; elle avait croisé ses mains sur la nuque de l’homme qui emplissait son vagin. Qui la força à le lâcher en se reculant et en s’extrayant du vagin ; avant qu’elle comprenne, il lui allongea deux gifles violentes en aller-retour.

Craintive, les larmes ruisselant sur ses joues marquées, Élodie commença à sangloter, douloureusement consciente de sa position. Ils étaient toujours sur le palier, nus, elle était empalée sur un épieu de chair qui lui distendait le fondement, ses pieds ne touchant pas le sol, le dos collé à son pourfendeur ; et elle venait de prendre deux fortes gifles. Elle leva les mains pour se protéger, mais le regard méchant de l’homme l’en dissuada. Elle lui adressa un regard implorant et il rit cruellement.

— Alors, petite salope, tu es bien le garage à bites dont avait parlé mon père ! Tu aimes ça ? Réponds !

— Oui, j’aime ça…

— Tu as envie que je revienne ?

— Oui…

— Alors, demande, petite pute, demande-moi !

— Oui, revenez, s’il vous plaît ! Prenez-moi, je vous en prie.

Il l’embrocha d’une poussée ; son vagin était trempé et brûlant, et elle jouit aussitôt en criant sans retenue. Une porte s’entrouvrit et se referma aussitôt. Toute honte bue, Élodie se donnait sans pudeur en gémissant, éperonnée dans son ventre et dans ses reins, les seins rudement empoignés et tordus. Le premier qui éjacula dans ses reins entraîna la jouissance du second, puis ils reposèrent Élodie qui avait du mal à tenir sur ses jambes tremblantes. Elle put enfin entrer et refermer la porte sur elle en soupirant. Ils étaient déjà partis dans leurs chambres, et Franck, assis dans son fauteuil, regardait Élodie d’un air goguenard.

— Alors, comment tu as trouvé mes fils ?

— J’ai été surprise, Monsieur. Ils sont… vigoureux.

Elle put enfin faire son injection à Franck, sans trembler, mais troublée de sentir ses orifices se vider peu à peu de semence sur l’intérieur de ses cuisses. Elle put enfin se nettoyer, mais Franck l’appela aussitôt.

— Viens, salope ; suce-moi bien avant que je t’encule ; Tu dois avoir le trou bien préparé avec ce que mes fils t’ont mis !

— Oui Monsieur.

Élodie, à genoux entre les cuisses épaisses, commença à administrer une fellation ; bien sûr, il râla et l’insulta sans arrêt car elle n’arrivait pas à prendre le gland aussi profondément qu’il le voulait ; mais il était satisfait dans la mesure où elle mettait du cœur à l’ouvrage, le pompant et le cajolant du mieux qu’elle pouvait. Quand il la repoussa pour ensuite la disposer à sa guise, elle se cambra impudiquement et il la sodomisa sans effort, lui arrachant tout de même un cri étranglé. Il la pilonna brutalement, la ployant en arrière en tirant ses cheveux à deux mains, mais il fut satisfait en la sentant jouir sous ses assauts pourtant féroces.

Et ensuite, elle le nettoya soigneusement de sa langue, le regardant avec un air soumis qui lui arracha un rictus satisfait. En parfaite fée du logis, elle lava la vaisselle, rangea, repassa même du linge, ce jusqu’au moment où les deux fils surgirent de leurs chambres et l’entraînèrent avec eux pour reprendre leurs activités sexuelles. Elle cria quand ils la jetèrent sur le lit, mais elle resta allongée, offerte, comprenant qu’elle allait passer à la casserole et qu’elle n’y gagnerait rien à se rebeller. Elle tourna la tête vers eux et n’en crut pas ses yeux : ils étaient nus, leurs virilités dressées, lourdes et menaçantes ; mais ce qui la choqua, c’était les ceintures de cuir qu’ils tenaient bien serrées dans leur main droite.

— S’il vous plaît, je ferai ce que vous voulez ; ne me battez pas, je vous en prie…

— On va attendrir ton petit cul, c’est ça qu’on veut. Alors tu mords le drap et tu la fermes ; va pas rameuter les voisins !

— Sinon, on te prend dans un bois, et là on te cogne jusqu’à ce que tu sois complètement pelée du cul. C’est ça que tu veux ?

— Non, s’il vous plaît, pas ça… Je vais essayer…

Domptée, Élodie baissa la tête et mordit dans le drap qu’elle saisit et serra à deux mains, offrant ses fesses aux deux brutes. Au premier coup, elle gémit ; au dixième, elle sanglota ; au vingtième, elle était dans un état second, au-delà de la souffrance. Ses fesses étaient durement marquées, couvertes de stries entre le rouge et le brun. Le sang ne coulait pas, mais les marques allaient rester plusieurs jours. Puis ils la sodomisèrent à tour de rôle, se relayant dans son anus dilacéré ; ils se délectaient de ses gémissements, de ses râles, guettant la montée du plaisir chez Élodie.

À un moment, ses sanglots et sa souffrance s’étaient changés en plaintes puis en gémissements de plaisir qu’elle essayait de ravaler pour masquer sa honte de jouir dans ces conditions. Mais rien n’y faisait : son corps la trahissait, elle aimait être traitée comme la dernière des traînées, avilie et prise de force. Ils jouèrent longtemps avec elle, la faisant jouir quand ils le décidaient, rien qu’en la sodomisant sans finesse. Quand ils sortaient de son anus béant, elle les suppliait de revenir, de la prendre encore plus fort.

Plus tard, épuisée, repue, elle alla voir Frank qui regardait la télé en buvant une bière. Elle s’agenouilla devant lui, nue et souillée.

— Monsieur, j’ai compris ce que je suis. Je vous supplie de m’accepter chez vous et de me garder ; je serai votre soumise, je ferai ce que vous voudrez.

— Tu seras ma vide-couilles et celle de mes fils ?

— Oui.

— Et celle de qui je voudrai ?

— Oui.

— Je savais que tu n’étais qu’une petite pute ! Bien ! Tu vas rentrer chez toi, prendre tes habits les plus sexys ; le reste, tu laisses. Et tu reviens ici ; tu as une heure. Je vois que mes fils ont bien marqué ton cul. À ton retour, je m’occuperai de tes gros seins : tu vas déguster.

Auteure : Petite Julie

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Anonymous
@soapbox
04 Jun 2014 10:24PM
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I believe internet feminazis (i.e. tumblr) are horrible trolls that are as shitty for the image of liberals, and the same way, that Fox News, Ann Coulter, Rush, Michael Savage, Alex Jones are terrible for the image of real reasonable conservatives...shit is toxic

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Anonymous
@chicks
18 May 2025 12:12PM
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I wanna hear the horrible sounds that come from this when I’m humping its ugly face 

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DirkDiggler09
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@confessions
18 Sep 2022 11:17PM
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I jumped in my friends fantasy football league. Today was horrible between Derek Carr not throwing to Adam’s and mariota not throwing pitts. Anyway I ended up losing. I’m pissed. Then I thought, it’s not so bad, since the guy that beat me doesn’t know I’m fucking his girl. He got the win but I cum in his girls face. So I guess we’re even. I’m gonna use her fat ass even more now.

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DarlaTheDyke
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@hookups
20 Oct 2025 10:28PM
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29 dyke in the Austin, TX area looking to invite 2-3 guys over to join me for porn + mutual masturbation. At first acting like it's a totally platonic situation as y'all casually openly stroke ur cocks right next to me, offer me some party favors n as soon as I start partying y'all start asking me really inappropriate sexual questions, casually groping my tits n trying to very nonchalantly convince me to pull my panties off n give y'all a quick lil live pussy show since u were nice enough to share w me...once y'all realize I'm dumb enough to strip naked, get facedown ass up in front of a group of total strangers completely surrounding u w their dicks already pulled out+ rock hard standing over ur dyke pussy and asshole ordering u to spread ur holes + fingerfuck urself for them, asking nonstop sexually humiliating questions and demanding I answer, requesting i do more n more completely degrading humiliating things for them, laughing as y'all start playfully but effectively pinning me facedown, taking turns slapping ur hard dicks against my tight sloppy wet freshly shaved dyke pussy asking me why that dyke pussy is so fucking wet for a group of total strangers who are holding me down while they verbally degrade n humiliate me, freely helping themselves to my tight lesbian pussy+asshole, fingering n rubbing/slapping hard cock all over both holes, telling me don't worry there's gonna be a bunch more guys lined up to empty their balls into that pretty pink dyke pussy u were so eager to show off for any random cock. Filming as I'm held facedown ass up, choked, slapped, and horrible things written all over my body as my pussy n asshole are being used by anon dick after dick non-stop for a full 2hrs then walk out without saying anything. Leave me facedown w cum gushing out of my sore bruised dyke pussy+gaped asshole, send me text shortly after w a pic of me facedown ass up surrounded by multiple anonymous cocks after I'm ordered to spread my swollen cum filled freshly violated hairless dyke pussy n hold it open for y'all. Ask if my wife knows how wet my pussy gets for anonymous cock when I'm being passed around n used as a late night community cumdump on the DL while she's at work... make sure I dont have any problem agreeing to make myself available for running weekly plans w my new buddies.
I'm ONLY interested in meeting face to face, and fucking in real life, and making this happen very soon. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING EXCEPT ACTUAL FACE TO FACE INTERACTION + WILL NOT ENGAGE WITH ANYONE WHO IS NOT LOCAL

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@confessions
04 Aug 2012 3:20AM
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I confess I find this funny www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5IZ4CUUi9M I am a horrible person.

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12 May 2012 4:37AM
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Could a combination of horribly sleep and malnutrition/malnourishment cause hallucinations? I've seen and felt some really weird things lately, so-called external stimuli that has never been substantiated beyond a glance or two.

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@requests
31 May 2015 10:16PM
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i have tons of pics of my wife taken between the ages of 18 and 35. tell me the horrible dirty degrading things you would do to her or have her do to you. for every sick fuck that gives me a story i will add more pics. the more horrable you are the better. and in the 10 years we were together there wasn't much we didn't try so get creative

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@hookups
20 Feb 2023 12:31PM
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Atx needs a volunteer pussy to cure me of a horrible oral fixation 

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@chicks
07 Nov 2016 9:38PM
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If youre into horribly fat ugly chicks, go see the movie nocturnal animals. you'll love the opening sequence.

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@random
03 Dec 2024 3:03PM
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I’m f46 looking for an older woman to explore kinks with. I’m into anything nothing is off limits. Start with just chatting maybe more. And darn it I’m horrible at pics!

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@confessions
22 Nov 2011 9:21PM
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I feel horrible. I allowed a whole set of eggs go bad in my fridge. I can't just throw them out. So, I've devised a plan. My neighbor is always smoking. It bugs the crap out of me. Late tonight, I'm going to sneak over to his yard and plant the eggs all over his front yard, making it look like the fucking Easter bunny came overnight and dumped all over his yard. I'll even put a few in his bushes on the top where he can find them - then I'm going to dump a ton of carrot seeds throughout his lawn so in a few weeks after the rains carrots will start forming in his nicely manicured lawn.

That fucker. I hope he blows the smoke out his ass when he goes out to get his fucking paper.

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@confessions
08 Feb 2012 4:36PM
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I confess this is the first time I even used this area of the Boards. But this really gorgeous girl that lives in my city sent me this today, And made me feel like complete and utter shit due to me actually liking her and having her tell me she had mutual feelings and wanted to date me. Women are sent from the depths of hell I believe.

i'm with my boyfriend for a reason, because i think he's wonderful and amazing. the thought of ever leaving him for you just made me feel horrible. and if i had really truly liked you..i wouldn't have had a problem, right?
i hope that doesn't make me sound like a bitch or anything

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@soapbox
13 Sep 2017 10:34PM
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Why all the anonymous posts? Make an account. Tell our little fucked up corner of the world what's up.
I'm a horrible person so I created an account to show off my fetishes, not all your info needs to be true. Just tell the admins the crap they need and go nuts. If it comes out in the end?! So what, yes I'll be the guy that jacks off to weird shit. Illl never tell and I hope you won't either.
I travel a lot for my job,I'm bi-sexual. I just enjoyed an hour of self abused anal torture, and now I want to cum.
Off I go into the wonderland of MOTHERLESS.COM
My stepdaughter is a whore,my son is a douch bag and I'm a freak. My wife acts like Martha fuckin Stewart with out the cash and jail time. 😂
That was funny and you know it!
FUCK IM OUT OF BEER!
Time to enjoy some motherless time.
Have fun people, our world is a stress filled shit box!
Jackoff, masterbate, fuck yourselves, fuck your neighbors, fuck each other.
Just tell us more, cause we are fucked up too!

Wow that's the longest post I've ever put up!
Fuck now I have to decide which category to post to!
I need a beer!

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@confessions
20 Jan 2014 7:24AM
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I am a Woman trapped in a man's body

stuck with a man's body its shit its horrible it's depressing

guys with their cock jokes their 'man ups!' the masculine culture it's horrible.

I don't know what to do with myself i feel lost i feel like i am always looking for progression in my life never happy with anything .

but the problems is I'm not a woman...i couldn't ever be one...not ever.

MTF lesbian ...

what do you do when you could never look like or be accepted as a woman ?

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12 Jul 2012 5:07PM
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Gay Marriage:

Let me start out by saying I'm not gay. I am in a very happy, devoted relationship to my fiance. I am a 23 year old guy, she is a 22 year old girl. We are a very heterosexual couple, neither have ever been with someone of the same sex nor do we have the desire to.
I know this is going to draw some attention from those of who you are just going to want to comment about how "fags are bad" and other vulgar, inappropriate, unnecessary outcries. Please keep those to yourselves. If you have something intelegent to say, I implore you to comment.
If you don't believe I'm straight, I don't give a fuck. Simple as that, I'm here to discuss a topic I find very interesting.

I went onto Omegle and used the "ask a question" option. I asked:
"Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?"
I would like to say that I'm not a religious person, I believe there is a higher power. Whoever/whatever that may be, I have no idea. I do believe that we were put on this earth to love eachother and to accept one another's differences. I don't have the right to tell you how to live and who to love, and you shouldn't judge people either.

The following text is 20 of the responses. I got a few responses that had nothing to do with the question, the majority of people didn't comment but simply disconnected. I just want to point out that the (majority) of the people that were against gay marriage weren't well spoken(typed) and were fairly rude and vulgar, while the people not necessarily for gay marriage, but just support people's happiness, took notice were well spoken, and used correct grammar and spelling.

(1) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 1: i'm with him on that, what does religion have to do with who you can love?
Stranger 2: I got nothing wrong with it either
Stranger 2: Gayness is not a hoice
Stranger 2: Choice
Stranger 2 has disconnected
***********************************
(2) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 1: I just can't be fucked to discuss this at the moment.
Stranger 1: But I agree.
Stranger 1: Homomarriage ftw.
Stranger 1: gosh, I'm tired.
Stranger 2: lol if people had equal rights in the first place there wouldnt be a discussion...
Stranger 1 has disconnected
*********************************
~Next conversation was disconnected before either stranger commented.
*********************************
~This one is kinda long and doesn't discuss the topic much.
(3) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 2: ...
Stranger 1: I have the right
Stranger 2: um, Gay marriage is legal here
Stranger 1: Homosexuals are dumb
Stranger 2: my church accepts/blesses gay marriage
Stranger 1: That wrong
Stranger 2: so, IDK what the issue is really
Stranger 1: That's discusting
Stranger 2: I'm not gay
Stranger 2: and I'm not getting married
Stranger 1: They make me wanna puke
Stranger 2: how come?
Stranger 2: have they come onto you?
Stranger 2: maybe you give out gay vibes.
Stranger 1: There not normal
Stranger 2: *they're
Stranger 2: we know that
Stranger 2: so, what's your point?
Stranger 1: They should pretend not to be gay
Stranger 2: some do
Stranger 1: Thats my point
Stranger 1: Good for them
Stranger 2: sooo
Stranger 1: They're awsome
Stranger 2: no, they suck..
Stranger 2: buddumm TSS
Stranger 1: But for those who show there gay
Stranger 1: There discusting
Stranger 2: *their
Stranger 1: Sick
Stranger 2: they're
Stranger 1: Horrible
Stranger 2: becuase?
Stranger 2: because*
Stranger 1: Y don't u call the grammer police?
Stranger 2: Because I'm correcting your spelling, not grammar.
Stranger 2: problem?
Stranger 2: getting back to the point
Stranger 1: If I used good grammer/spelling it would take longer to type
Stranger 1: I only use it correctly on school work
Stranger 2: So, it would take longer to type an A in grammar than an E?
Stranger 2: So, you have no desire to present yourself as an intelligent person to the world?
Stranger 2: By choice.
Stranger 1: Yes when I get a job I will
Stranger 1: But I'm in high school
Stranger 1: I don't need to
Stranger 2: You don't have a job now?
Stranger 1: No
Stranger 2: ...
Stranger 1: Im working towards becoming a nuclear engineer though
Stranger 2: in high school
Stranger 2: ..
Stranger 1: Watch when I get my job you'll be ashamed you ever said that
Stranger 1: Nuclear engineers make GOOD money
Stranger 2: I don't know how it is where you live, but here you have to be in the 90th percentile to be accepted to the faculty of engineering.
Stranger 2: and you can't use grammar.
Stranger 2: so, I'm thinking you have a lot of work ahead of you.
Stranger 1: Uhhh ya I can
Stranger 2: Clearly.
Stranger 1: I decide not to
Stranger 2: Good luck in life son, you'll need it. Also, your dad is probably a fag.
Stranger 2 has disconnected
*************************************
(4) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 1: I never argued the point. I'm not God, I let Him/Her decide these things.
Stranger 1 has disconnected
*************************************
~Another one disconnected before commenting.
*************************************
(5) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 2: homosexuals are bad
Stranger 1: It's the right of the AMERICAN PEOPLE!
Stranger 2: even satan doesn't approve
Stranger 1: IT WILL RUIN THIS GREAT SOCIETY!
Stranger 2 has disconnected
~"Great Society"???? Full of rapists, murderers, crime and general fear of anything unknown. Yep, Gays are definitely our biggest concern!!!
***********************************
(6) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? What if he said you can't marry?
Stranger 1: i never said anything
Stranger 2: Yep.
Stranger 1: who asked god?
Stranger 1: dont they have thier own righ
Stranger 1: what if god did say no gay marriages
Stranger 1: why would that mean they couldnt
Stranger 1: people have the right to do what the fuck they want and not live in religon
Stranger 1: so befor you try and be pro gay rethink the way you word it
Stranger 1: good day
Stranger 2 has disconnected
~Please note, I'm not saying God has anything to do with the topic. Just pointing out that it's the most argument against it.
***********************************
~Starting with this question, I decided to ask where the Strangers were from. Unfortunately, most decided not to acknowledge the question.
(7) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: true
Stranger 2: i honestly dont care what people are as long as you are a nice person
Stranger 1 has disconnected
**********************************
(8) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: Amen
Stranger 1 has disconnected
*******************************
~Another disconnected without commenting.
*********************************
~And another.
*********************************
~And another.
********************************
(9) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: gays go to hell
Stranger 1: let them get married there
Stranger 2: Your ignorance is dripping on my carpet sir
Stranger 1: liberal fag
Stranger 1 has disconnected
******************************
~Another disconnected without comment.
******************************
~And another.
******************************
~And another.
******************************
(10) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: no one, none, never, Norway
Stranger 1: No ones I guess, little, never, England
Stranger 2 has disconnected
********************************
~Another disconnected without comment.
********************************
~And another.
********************************
(11) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: They can share marraige
Stranger 2: They deserve it
Stranger 2: :/
Stranger 2: I'm straight, myself
Stranger 2: But EXCLUDING certain innocent people from their rights
Stranger 2: is WRONG.
Stranger 2: RIGHTS are RIGHTS.
Stranger 2: >.<
Stranger 2: Get over it.
Stranger 1: People are idiots. Gays should have the same rights as us... Fuck... More
Stranger 2: Your book is 3000 years old
Stranger 2: Agreed
Stranger 2: This person is an ignorant, overly religious person
Stranger 1: Theyve been trying so hard to be accepted
Stranger 2: worshipping a 3000 year old book written by middle eastern goat herders.
Stranger 1: Yea
Stranger 2: Homosexuals/Bisexuals have the same rights as us
Stranger 2: :/
Stranger 1: But they can't get married
Stranger 2: They deserve to be for sure
Stranger 1: Theyve been trying so hard for acceptance
Stranger 1: Ik
Stranger 2: Ugh
Stranger 2: Bye :)
Stranger 2 has disconnected
~Please note, obviously I support Gay Marriage. I'm not sure where they got the idea that I was against it, I thought the way
I presented my questions made that obvious...
***************************************
(12) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: im gay.
Stranger 1: :3
Stranger 1: ..
Stranger 2: faggot
Stranger 2 has disconnected
***************************************
~Another disconnected without commenting
**************************************
~And another.
****************************************
~And another.
****************************************
(13) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: marriage is with
Stranger 1: Whoa, someone's having a hissy fit
Stranger 2: a man and a woman
Stranger 1: Amen
Stranger 1: Gay marriage is a disgrace
Stranger 2: no, it's not really a disgrace, it's just not right
Stranger 1: An insult to human life
Stranger 1: It is a disgrace
Stranger 2: yea ok it's a disgrace
Stranger 1: Gay's are nice people, but what they're doing is wrong
Stranger 1: Soo wrong
Stranger 2: what are they doing wrong..?
Stranger 1: Loving someone of the same sex as them
Stranger 1: Making love to them
Stranger 1: The penis was not made for the ass
Stranger 1: It was made for the vagina
Stranger 1: For procreation
Stranger 1: So we can multiply
Stranger 1: Can you make babies from fucking a man up the ass? No
Stranger 2: yea, it's perverted
Stranger 1: No
Stranger 2: well, it'
Stranger 2: s
Stranger 2: gay sex only focus on pleasure
Stranger 2: not procreation or real lve
Stranger 1: How can you get pleasure from being fucked in the asshole?
Stranger 2: but that's happens
Stranger 1: The same place faeces comes out of?
Stranger 2: in all cases now with comdom
Stranger 1: Still disgusting
Stranger 2: they can be sex partners, ok. but not marriage
Stranger 2: gays want to be respected, respect the religion of other ppl too ~When don't they?
Stranger 1: Gay's should go to hell
Stranger 1: end of
Stranger 1 has disconnected
************************************
~The next response consisted of one person who supports it and another who didn't say his view. They quickly transitioned into a long discussion about religions. It was entirely too long to post here, if you would like to read it, feel free to e-mail me.
***************************************
~Another disconnected without comment.
***************************************
~And another
************************************
(14) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: god
Stranger 2: God never said he hated gay you faggot..
Stranger 2 has disconnected
~Not sure if Stranger 2 was responding to my question, or Stranger 1. Again, I'm not saying what God believes because I don't/didn't know Him/Her and He/She never told me what they want.
***************************************
~Another disconnected without comment.
***************************************
~And another.
***************************************
~And another.
***************************************
~The next stranger commented that he lived in NY, it's legal there, and to get over it, then disconnected.
***************************************
(15) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: I believe gays should be able to marry
Stranger 1: simple as
Stranger 2: same
Stranger 1: im english
Stranger 2: Do not go attacking us question-asker
Stranger 2 has disconnected
*************************************
~Another disconnected without comment
*************************************
(16) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 2: by what right does the government have at all to issue marriage licenses to anyone?
Stranger 1: True
Stranger 2: where does a "right" come from?
Stranger 1: Good question
Stranger 1: Love is love
Stranger 2: the government does not exist to validate individuals' personal relationships, it exists to provide particular services which would be otherwise unavailable, to keep the peace and enforce the law
Stranger 1: Agreed
Stranger 1: And well put
Stranger 1: World woul be so much better if politics stayed out of people's homes
Stranger 2 has disconnected
************************************
(17) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: swedish
Stranger 1: atheist
Stranger 2: America
Stranger 2: Christian
Stranger 2: But before we start all this, can you not judge me for being a christian?
Stranger 1: I'll try not to.
Stranger 2: Wonderful
Stranger 1: I just can't believe people actively waste their own time trying to prevent OTHER people from being happy. They have nothing to do with you. They want to be with each other, not with you. So what the hell is wrong with that? Love is love, no matter what gender or colour or whatever.
Stranger 2: I understand, Christians can be super judgemental about stuff like this
Stranger 2: Honestly, i don't think Marriage is a government issue, it's a religious thing (for the most part) and the government shouldn't give benefits to a married couple. If a church or other institution wants to marry people, they should be free too. If a church wants to not marry people, they should be able too.
Stranger 1: To be perfectly honest I don't really care. What is so important about getting married in a church anyway. If I ever get married I wouldn't care where it happens, just the fact that it happens and that it's with a person I love will be enough.
Stranger 2: For different people, marriage can be different things. To me, Marriage is a gift from God, and should be between a man and woman. That's based off of my religious beliefs, but i don't care what others do. To them it may be different, and that's ok with me.
Stranger 1: Personally I've never been religious so for me marriage is basically just having the same lastname and a ring on your finger to signal you're off the market so to speak.
Stranger 2: Totally cool. That's the beauty of freedom, it's your choice.
Stranger 1: Indeed.
Stranger 1: And I mean... I've heard of people marrying buildings for fuck's sake... BUILDINGS!
Stranger 2: Yeah, it's a little ridiculous. I'm sorry that so many christian's are so ignorant and judgemental, just thought i'd throw that out there
Stranger 1: The fact that they have to force their crap on other people is what pisses me off. Fine, believe what you want, just don't try and force me to do so as well. I've made my choice not to.
Stranger 1: And that argument they have "think of the children" yeah, please do! What kind of message is "no you can't love who you want because if you do you'll burn in hell"... That's not a good message.
Stranger 2: I mean i'm not disagreeing. A lot Christians claim Christ, but don't love like He loved.
Stranger 1: Seems like they just pick the parts best suited to themselves.
Stranger 1: Which sort of destroys the real message.
Stranger 2: Yep, The Church is corrupt, and there are a lot of problems. But, even though i am pretty messed up, I can still say that Jesus has radically changed my life, and given me hope. Good talking to you, but i have to go. Hope your next experience is good!
Stranger 1: Have a nice day.
Stranger 1 has disconnected
**********************************
~Another disconnected without comment.
**********************************
(18) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: Nobody, that's who!
Stranger 1: No difference at all!
Stranger 1: He didn't xP
Stranger 2: I don't believe in any deity, people ought to be able to marry whoever they please who are of the age of consent, Sweden.
Stranger 1: California ^_^
Stranger 1: For once, a nice stranger
Stranger 1: :D
Stranger 2: :) see, OP, we're a socially liberal bunch over here.
Stranger 2: take care, toodles!
Stranger 2 has disconnected
*******************************
(19) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: ummm...
Stranger 2: good question..
Stranger 1: God loves everyone
Stranger 1: and he made us to love one another
Stranger 1: wether were black asian females males mexicans whites transgenders gays
Stranger 1: we have to accept each other
Stranger 1: k bai
Stranger 1 has disconnected
********************************
(20) You're now watching two strangers discuss your question!
Question to discuss:
Whose right is it to tell homosexuals they can't share the bliss of marriage? What difference does it make to your life? When did God give you the right to judge? Where are you both from?
Stranger 1: I don't judge. :D
Stranger 1: i'm from the state of delusion.
Stranger 1: btw
Stranger 2: No one has the right to judge.
Stranger 2: But it will be done by people anyway.
Stranger 1: yeah, no escaping it.
Stranger 1: But as I like to say, homosexuals should have the right to be UNHAPPY in marriages..haaaaaa.
Stranger 1 has disconnected


That's the end off the 20. I did keep it going but didn't want to make this much longer. If you want to discuss this topic further without the fear of getting trampled by trolls feel free to PM me.
Thanks for reading, have a great day!

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@chicks
10 Jul 2025 11:44PM
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[ − ] thread [ 3 replies ]

i would do horrible shit to this girl 

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@confessions
29 Dec 2012 4:19AM
• 94 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 2 replies ]

I know its bad but I randomly will go online and find girls to fuck with emotionally, i wish i didnt do it cause i know i scar them. Fuck im a horrible person, but idk shit

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@confessions
30 Dec 2023 11:41AM
• 365 views • 1 attachment
[ − ] thread [ 2 replies ]

I confess... I want someone to take my mom and do horrible things to her so she's never seen again. Then anonymously send me the video so I can watch it forever 

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@confessions
20 Jan 2013 9:55AM
• 995 views • 0 attachments
[ − ] thread [ 5 replies ]

i wonder what it feels like to kill a guy. like if you had the chance to kill a bad person, some horrible corporate cunt or something would you take it? and how would you do it if you were gonna? all hypothetical of course, but id like to know what beating some guy to death would be like, if it was the head of foxcon or monsanto or something. just grab a pipe and take out your aggression on them...

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@confessions
14 Sep 2012 12:33AM
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My confession: Just to entertain you freaks. The big one.... I'm a guy, late 30's now. Since we were little kids, me and my cousin (a guy, very similar age) grew up really closely. More like brothers than cousins. Around seventh grade, I'm sure I was 18 then (lol), we were both sleeping over at our grandparents, which we did almost every weekend in the summer (at the lake). We were in bed (separately, about 10 feet away from one another in the only upstairs bedroom in a cape cod house) and he started asking if I ever "rubbed it". I hadn't, and had no fucking idea what he was talking about, and was like wtf??? He started telling me about it and I was like, you can do that?? I had seen some porn mags, and knew all about vaginas, and girls shoving stuff in there to masterbate, but didn't think it was possible to make a circle with my hand and try it on my weiner. Anyway, he starts telling me about it, and suddenly I realize I'm hard as a rock, didn't take much in those days. Lol. Man do I wish it still worked like that. So anyway, I was covered up in bed, so I thought, well, fuck it, might as well try. Nothin'. I made about 2 strokes before friction, heat and pain won that battle. So, he's covered up too, still talkin about it, and I notice his face is red as fuck, and he's breathing funny. I asked him, what the fuck are you doing? He sorta laughed, and said I'm doing it.... I was like doing what???? Then.... like he'd been waiting forever to share this with someone.... pulled back his blanket. His shorts were around his ankles, and his hand was around his hard cock. Which I was totally surprised to see was the same size as mine. I was already fearful that I was small, because the guys I saw with the girls in hustler were hung down to their knees, so I assumed my 6" was medically deformed-level tiny. I was so relieved to see that size, that it took away the weirdness of seeing my cousin / best friend / brother stroking his hard cock. But then I realized, he was doing it dry. I admitted to him I just tried it dry and it HURT. He said "I know, we need lotion". So... fast forward probably a half hour of thinking we were james bond quality sneaky, we managed to get downstairs, get a bottle of lotion from the bathroom, and get back upstairs. In hindsight and reality, all one of had to do was go take a piss, then take the bottle back up with us. But what if we got caught?? Lol... anyway.... so we get upstairs, go to our separate beds. He took a handful of lotion, then threw me the bottle. I was like, uh... I dunno.... he was like, omg... just do it pussy. Pussy?? Oh yeah? I'll show you. LOL. So, I grabbed a handful of lotion too. I've got one of those dicks that curves to the left, so it took a minute to figure out to use my left hand upside down. Actually, it probably took 10 minutes, but for fuck sake it was a LONG time ago... anyway, a few looks back and forth, a few times throwing the bottle back and forth, and then I noticed he was making the most God-awful face.... then was totally relaxed and calm. I remember asking him- what happened?? What did you do? He said "I finished". I was like, you're quitting? He said no, when you're done, shit squirts out of it. I said "WHAT???? What the hell is that?? What do I do with it???" He laughed and said something along the lines of "Oh, Jesus Christ, I guess you weren't lying about not doing it before..." He explained the whole process, including using a dirty t shirt.... so.... I kept going.... After a few minutes he asked me how I like it. I lied, of course, and said, eh... it's ok, I guess. The truth was that I'd just found heaven, and was PISSED that I hadn't figured it out years ago. Then he really threw me for a loop. "Lemme see." He said. We went back and forth for a few minutes. I was like "No fuckin' way". Again, fast forwarding.... he won. I pulled off the blanket. He saw my hand upside down and said "wtf??" I told him mine's bent and this is how it works the best. He was like wtf?? Lemme try. I told him he must be OUT of his fucking mind!! It's bad enough I'm doing this. Now he's watching. I'm NOT letting him touch my cock. So anyway... a few more minutes of stroking goes by... and all of a sudden it feels different.... stronger, better, faster, harder, better, better, better- BAM!!!! ALL OVER the fucking place shoots this mystery white, sticky fucking mess from hell. I'm not lyin.... every fucking where.... sheets, blanket, walls, legs, stomach, hands, floor. And then it happened: The ungodly, insanely, unforseeable, unimaginable wave of guilt. I couldn't have felt more guilty if I'd killed a person. OMG. They need to teach about this in elementary school. I quickly grabbed a dirty shirt, cleaned what I could clean while my cousin laughed about the amount, the velocity and the mess. Then the embarrassment set in. You know how you always think about dirty horrible shit while you're jerkin off, then as soon as you cum, you're like holy hell, wtf was I thinking??? It was sorta like that, but he was there to see it. Anyway... I got cleaned up, prayed for God to forgive me for doing that to myself, swore to my cousin if he EVER told ANY one that I would kill him, and went to sleep. That... my fellow depraved friends, was the first time that this guy, rubbed one out. And was helped by my cousin, a dude. And that.. led to alot, a LOT more helping over the rest of the summer, but that's plenty for now. That took a fucking half hour to type. Sorry for the no paragraphs, it was kinda spur of the moment because the last couple days on here have been boring, so I decided to tell the beginning to my story. And, obviously no pics, so fuck off. And every word is true, so if you don't believe it, again, fuck off. And no way will this ever be anything but anon. But I know someone will get a hard on reading it, whether ya comment or not, so this was for you, you sick, twisted fuck. :) Goodnight!

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15 Mar 2012 4:12PM
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One time, a few of my friends were staying over at my house. We had plenty of wine and talking about usual girl stuff at age 18 and listening to music. One of the topics came up was our usual crushes. One friend admitted that she had a major crush on her own brother. Somehow, I let it slip that I had a small one on my own brother. He was a pretty fit guy, handsome looking, and had a girlfriend of his own.

One of my friends was an only child. She dared us to give our own brother's a blow job. It was a shock to hear such a dare. We were not experienced in it. One friend was very excited about the blow job . We told her and was grossed out about it. After a while, we continued talking, and I've already had a few large glasses of wine in me and was pretty drunk. I stood up and told the one friend that it's on, I was going to give my own brother one.

We waited until it was really late at night and everyone was asleep. My brother had been asleep for a few hours. I snuck into his room quietly. I slowly pulled over the covers and noticed his hard cock coming through the front of his boxers. I always knew he did sleep like that. With my friends watching, I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around and down his cock.

I held it there for a while. The friend who didn't know what a blow job was couldn't watch and went back into my room. Then, I started sucking on my brother's big cock. It wasn't very long. If anything, it had to be about 5 inches. However, it was big as far as girth. As such, I was able to take it all in and continued to slip it in and out of my mouth while I was sucking on it.

Every once in a while, I would take it completely out and start licking it with my tongue, including around the head of his cock. I started to look at his face when I did this, and he was making the weirdest faces. Sometimes he would let out a little moan.

I took it completely back into my mouth again and kept sucking on it. After about 5 minutes, he came inside my mouth. He let out of big cumload. I took his cock out of my mouth and shut my mouth. Then covered him back up.

We went back to my room, then closed the door. I opened my mouth again to show my friends all the cum in my mouth. They were surprised by the amount. The friend who took off earlier took off again to the bathroom and threw up. Then I swallowed it all. I thought it tasted horrible, but I did it never-the-less.

My friends were surprised. They'd never thought I would go through with it. We then drank some more, and went to sleep.

The next morning, when we were all up, my brother came down to the breakfast table. My brother asked my friends why they were staring at him with strange faces. They giggled and told him nothing.

Now, the other friend who had a crush on her brother went through the the dare also about two weeks later when we stayed at her place. However, she threw up after doing it. He didn't come in her mouth, but on her face. Apparently, she was so disgusted by it. After that, she couldn't look at her brother the same way again. I had a hard time looking at my brother too, but not like her. She sometimes couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. He was wondering what got into her and why she started acting that way.

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13 Oct 2023 3:35PM
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Jamilla’s crucifixion


Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

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